by Cassie Miles
“We had a chance. I thought, maybe, with therapy and understanding, you could get over your delusions. I thought we could have a life together. And now? Oh, Dash, what are we going to do?”
“We’ll find a way,” he said. “Never give up hope.”
She spotted the address Carlito’s uncle had given them, and turned into the parking lot of a small, nondescript motel. She parked in front of number eight.
Sitting beside her in the car, Dash took her hand, and she again experienced the trembling fever that came whenever they were close. How could she live without him?
She fought back tears. “This isn’t fair. I finally find the love of my life, and you’re going to be taken away from me. I may never find you again.”
“No matter what happens,” he said, “we’ll be together. Elizabeth, we’re from different worlds. But we were made for each other.”
She wanted to embrace him. “What would happen if I kissed you?”
“There’s a good possibility the beeper in my pocket would go off, and I’d be called back to the office.”
She reached her finger toward his lips, but she did not touch him. “My darling, I can’t take that risk. If keeping you near me means I can never touch you again, that’s what I will do.”
“No, Liz. That won’t work. I can’t let you give up the pleasures of physical life. You’re mortal. You need—”
“I need you. Only you, my dearest love.” She blinked away the moisture behind her eyelids. “First we’ll solve the case.”
Stepping out of the car, followed almost immediately by Carlito and Jimmy, they stood on the sidewalk outside room number eight. Dash nodded toward the door. “Go ahead, Carlito. He’s your father.”
The young man raised his fist and knocked hard.
When Hector opened the door, his guarded expression turned to the purest joy. Slowly, he raised his hand and stroked his son’s cheek. “Carlito,” he whispered hoarsely, “I thought I’d lost you forever.”
“My father, I-”
“I have missed you with all my heart.”
When they embraced, Liz felt warm and cozy inside. No matter how much she disliked Hector, she recognized the depth of his love for his son.
Though it might have been appropriate to fade away and leave them to their reunion, there were questions to be pursued.
“Hector,” she said, “may we come in? Only for a moment.”
“Yes, please.”
They settled around the nondescript room on chairs and on the side of the bed. Hector faced his son. It seemed that the father could hardly bear to take his eyes off his prodigal boy.
“Start at the beginning,” Dash said. “Two years ago, Carlito took off and joined up with some bad people.”
“That was when my search began,” Hector said. “I was fortunate enough to be able to travel to Colombia frequently on business, and I used much of my time to search.”
He reached behind his neck and unfastened the large gold necklace he always wore. He opened the locket and handed it to Liz.
Inside, on both sides of the locket, were small photographs of Carlito as a much younger boy.
“I showed the pictures to everyone I met,” Hector said. “I tried to follow every lead. But nothing. I had no luck at all. I would have given up if his mother had not received occasional communication.”
Hector frowned at the floor, then looked at Liz. “I wasn’t doing a good job for OrbenCorp. I tried. But much of my time was occupied with my search. I told Agatha. Before she was sick, I told her of my problem and offered to quit so that she might hire another buyer. But she refused.”
Liz nodded. That was very like Agatha. She’d been so understanding. “And that’s why you sometimes paid too much for the coffee beans.”
“No,” he said. “I might have slipped once or twice, taking the highest price instead of negotiating. But I know coffee. And I know what is proper to be paid. My prices, a few percents higher, were for quality product.”
“Hector, I did the figures myself. Consistently, you were eight to ten percent higher.”
“Then your figures are wrong.”
Dash pursued another line of questioning. “When was the last time you saw Jack?”
“We argued. On the day after the party.” His gaze rested fondly on his son. “Then I received word that I must find another place, a secret place, to meet with Carlito. I left the address with the receptionist, and I have been here ever since.”
When Dash spoke to Carlito’s uncle, the man jumped nervously. “What?” he asked.
“Why were you outside Liz’s house?”
“When we couldn’t find this motel, I went back to the secretary and asked for the address of Elizabeth Carradine. It was a name Carlito remembered.”
“And she gave it to you?” Liz said, aghast. “Just like that?”
“This girl at the desk,” he said, “she maybe drinks too much of your fine coffee. She’s a very nervous young woman.”
If Liz had anything to say about it, she would also have been a very fired young woman. But Liz didn’t have a say. She’d been fired herself.
Dash asked Hector, “Did you kill Jack?”
“No. I was sorry to hear reports on the television of his death. Jack was not a good businessman, but he had charm and humor. I enjoyed his company.” As an afterthought, he added, “I will miss him.”
Dash looked back and forth between Carlito and his uncle. “And you two? What do you know about the murder of Jack Orben?”
“Nothing,” said the uncle.
Carlito shook his head. He looked so much younger than when Liz had first seen him. The attitude of rage had dissipated. There was still a rebellious spark behind his large, liquid brown eyes, but he had somehow regained an innocence. She supposed that a life-and-death encounter with an angel might have that effect on a person.
She nodded toward Dash. “We should go now.”
He stood, tipped the brim of his fedora and smiled at the three men. His gaze focused on Carlito and he said, “Here’s looking at you, kid.”
“Thank you,” Carlito whispered. He waved goodbye with the hand that had been tattooed, marked forever with an angelic reminder. The flaming sword of Dash Divine.
Chapter Fourteen
On the sidewalk outside the motel room, Liz savored the moment. Though she and Dash were still pursuing a murder investigation and still had the problem of how to create a lasting relationship when she was human and he was not, the newfound warmth between father and son gave her a sense that, at least for this moment, something was right in the world. Their happiness, no matter how elusive, brought pleasure to her soul.
Dash struck a match, lit a cigarette and brought her back to hard, tense reality. “I guess we know who our murderer is.”
“Hush,”’ she whispered. “Can you hear it?”
“Hear what?”
“There’s a tiny click, the sound of something falling into place.” Without pausing for breath, she continued, “Can you see it?”
“See what?”
“A flicker of light against the darkness. Hector and Carlito getting together, after so much struggle and pain, is a wonderful moment.”
“Now who’s the philosopher?” he asked.
She shrugged her shoulders. “The murderer is Gary Gregory. It has to be, since we’ve eliminated everybody else.”
“Bingo,” he said. “The little lady wins the prize.”
“But I’m still not quite sure why. I mean, if Sarah dumps him, he’ll be out of luck on the inheritance.”
“Hector had the answer,” Dash said. “The figures were wrong.”
“But they couldn’t be. I checked those figures myself for accuracy, and they came from…” Realization dawned upon her. “My figures came from Gary’s computer records. Dash, that’s the answer. He’s been doctoring the figures all along.”
“That’s right, sweetheart. I think you’ve got it now.”
“Gary is the head acco
untant at OrbenCorp. Nobody puts anything into the computer unless he okays the information. It would be simple for him to adjust the purchase prices that Hector gave him, adding a percent here and there. Then he would cut the checks for the amount Hector had given him. And Gary would pocket the difference.”
“It’s called embezzlement,” Dash said. “And I’ll bet if we can crack Gary’s computer trail, we’ll find that he has similar criminal charges in his background.”
“It was almost too simple,” she said. “All Gary needed to do was keep two sets of books. And Jack never verified the checks or invoices he signed. As long as his salary was paid, the figures bored him, and he’d sign whatever was placed in front of him. His signature was a rubber stamp.”
“Agatha was about to put an end to it,” Dash said. “She didn’t know exactly what was wrong, but she was a sharp enough businesswoman to know OrbenCorp should have been more profitable.”
“So she advised me to compare the figures.” Liz felt the weight of the solution falling on her shoulders. “Gary would have gotten away with this forever if I hadn’t done those comparisons, which meant Hector would see the numbers, and he would object to them and produce his originals.”
“Unless Gary got the numbers corrected first.”
“That’s why he’s at the office, working like a dog. He’s covering his tracks.”
“And that’s why he came to your apartment and searched. That’s why he went through your briefcase, even after you told him that you didn’t have the comparison. He had to make sure he had every copy of the incorrect figures.”
She and Dash were on exactly the same wavelength. She was feeding off his deductions and completing his thoughts. “And Jack. He must have gone to OrbenCorp after hours and found Gary in my office with the comparison figures in his hand. Gary couldn’t give the computer printout to Jack.”
Dash nodded and blew smoke into the air. “If Jack had the computer pages, Gary was caught. He couldn’t let Jack know. He had to kill him.”
“So,” she said, “I guess the case is closed.” Liz wasn’t sure if she felt positive or negative about the ending of their investigation. Of course, she wanted Gary to be caught and convicted for the heinous crimes he’d perpetrated. But she didn’t want her time with Dash to end. “What happens now?”
“We let the cops know what we’ve come up with. There are still a couple of loose ends, but—”
“I meant,” she said, “what happens with us? Do you have to leave me?”
“I said it before, sweetheart, and I’ll say it again.” His gaze melted with hers in tender communication. “I won’t leave you. I’ll find a way to stay with you.”
“How? Dash, I need to know. I don’t want to lose you.”
“We’ve still got a couple of loose ends to tie up on this case. First, I want to find out if Sarah was involved in Gary’s scheme or if she’s an innocent dupe he was using for his own ends.”
“A visit to Sister Muriel?” she suggested.
“I think so.” He liked that idea, and he sensed that the good sister might be able to offer a perspective he hadn’t seen before. “Also, though I’m sure the cops can come up with enough to convict Gary on the murder of Jack, I want to see him punished for killing Agatha. We still need to find the falcon.”
“Bluebird,” she automatically corrected.
“Whatever. And another thing,” Dash said. “It might be handy to have the originals on Gary’s computer printouts for evidence. You wouldn’t happen to have kept a copy somewhere?”
She shook her head.
“Think, Liz. Did you work on the figures at home?”
“Yes.” She snapped her fingers. “Yes! I can’t guarantee it, but I might have the rough draft that I threw away before I came up with the final copy. It’s all scribbled on, but we ought to be able to read the figures.”
“A trip to your apartment,” he concluded.
They had a plan, Dash thought, and he wished that he could make it last for days instead of a couple of hours. After the case was closed, his beeper would summon him to the office. That was the usual procedure. If he ignored the call, the consequences would be grim. There were always the rules, the everlasting regulations, to be obeyed.
Despite his assurances to Liz, he had no idea what would happen next. They were in uncharted waters, turbulent seas that might overwhelm them..
There had to be a way to sail around the obstacles that confronted them. He couldn’t leave her, couldn’t forget the love that sang within him. There had to be a way.
When they pulled up at the shelter, Sister Muriel was outside on the veranda. It was almost as if she was waiting for them.
She beamed at Dash. “I was expecting a delivery of groceries, but I’m delighted to see you. Both of you.”
As she glanced between them, her happy greeting faded. “Oh, dear me. You two are in love, aren’t you?”
Liz nodded. “We are.”
Sagely, the nun said, “That could be difficult.”
“Got any ideas?” Dash asked. It didn’t take a mind probe for him to know that Sister Muriel was not only a very good woman, but a smart one, to boot. She might see an answer where he failed.
Though his instincts for crime-solving were still sharp, his feelings for Liz had blinded him to the more philosophical side of life. He wanted to be with her. He needed her. In a celestial existence where physical needs had no relevance, he had never felt so out of control, so desperate.
He would risk anything for her. Even the dread condition of mortality. Quietly, he said, “I would give it up for her. All of it.”
Liz protested, “Dash, I can’t let that happen. You have important work to do. I won’t stand in your way.”
“If I can’t be with you,” he said simply, “I cannot go on.”
Sister Muriel cleared her throat. “I do believe there might be an obvious answer, one that is directly under your noses.”
They both looked at her, waiting and hoping.
“Love is not a sacrament,” Sister Muriel said. “Love, though exalted, is only an emotion. But marriage? That’s a blessed event.”
“You think we should get married?” Liz questioned.
“If you’re in love, that does seem to be the next logical step.”
“But marriage,” Liz said. “It’s kind of sudden. I mean, there are invitations and flowers and cakes. And my dress. I don’t even own a white dress.”
“Those are the trappings,” Sister Muriel said. “More important are the vows. Remember what they say. What God has joined together, let no one put asunder.”
“No one,” Dash repeated. Not man. Not angel. In his mind, he reviewed the myriad rules and regulations. There were definite cautions against sinning. No swearing. No lying. No lust. But he didn’t recall a single footnote that forbade marriage. It was, as the sister had pointed out, a sacrament.
He dropped to one knee before Liz.
Sister Muriel cleared her throat. “Take off your hat, Dash. It doesn’t look proper.”
He clenched his fedora in his hand and gazed into Liz’s beautiful azure eyes. “Marry me, Elizabeth.”
“Just like that?” A gush of panic flooded her mind. She felt woozy. Was he really asking? Would she, could she, be married to an angel? Amid the turbulent confusion and doubt and hesitation, she knew what her answer must be. “I’ll marry you, Dash. I’ll always love you.”
He stayed there, motionless, as if he was waiting. Then he stood and slapped his hat on his head. “This is a good sign. My beeper didn’t go off.”
“I’d be happy to arrange it,” Sister Muriel offered. “I can contact one of the priests at the church nearby, and we can have the ceremony scheduled for later today. Shall we say in two hours? At six?”
“Six it is.” A hot flush climbed Liz’s throat. She was breathless, tense. “Could I get a drink of water?”
“Certainly, dear.” Sister Muriel started toward the door of the shelter.
�
�Before you go inside,” Dash said. “We had a question for you. About Sarah.”
“Poor thing. It does seem she’s made another mistake in judgment, doesn’t it.” She clucked her tongue against her teeth, making a disapproving noise. “I never did care for that Gary Gregory. It doesn’t surprise me, not one little bit, to find that he’s abusive.”
“How deeply do you think Sarah cares for him?” Dash probed. “Does she love him enough to do anything for him?”
“I think not. She had done a great deal of therapy, you know. It was all at Agatha’s instigation, but Sarah has been helped. And, from what she told me earlier today, she plans to end their relationship as soon as possible.”
Weakly, Liz said, “Water?”
Sister Muriel took her arm and ushered her inside.
Liz was in such a frantic internal state that she hardly noticed the clean, attractive surroundings. She had a vague impression of polished woodwork and white walls and brightly colored but inexpensive paintings on the walls.
In the kitchen, which was gleaming clean, Sister Muriel introduced her to two women who sat at the kitchen table, sharing coffee and a quiet conversation. Then she asked, “Will tap water be all right?”
“Perfect,” Liz said.
As soon as she tasted the cool, soothing water, Liz felt her temperature begin to ebb. The liquid washed down her throat, and she forced herself to swallow, to function normally. The dizzy sensation of vertigo faded, and she felt slightly more grounded.
Married? After all these years, she was going to be married. She’d found love, she’d found a companion for eternity. And she prayed nothing would interfere.
“Much better,” she said.
“Quite a whirlwind courtship,” Sister Muriel said.
“Quite.”
Liz gazed through the window behind the sink at the blue skies, which would soon thin to sunset. Soon, very soon, it would be six o’clock. And she would be a bride.
Or else Dash might be snatched away from her. He might be forced to fulfill his angelic duties.
A sigh trembled on her lips. “I hope this works.”
“Have faith,” Sister Muriel encouraged. “In these difficult times, that is all we can do. But sometimes, that faith can change the world or move a mountain.”
