Gangster Walk

by Melissa Bowersock

  “Here you go.” Glenn opened a back door and motioned them inside.

  Lacey crawled in, tossing her pack and her laptop on the seat next to her. As she made room for Sam, Glenn took the backward-facing seat opposite them.

  Lacey looked around. Dark wine-colored leather seats, the same color carpet, all bounded by burled wood and brass accents. The dark privacy glass cut the sun’s glare, and the interior was cool and dim.

  “Would you like anything to drink?” Glenn asked. He opened the door on a small fridge set into the bench seat. “Water, soda, beer?”

  “Uh, not for me,” Lacey said. She was still looking for the seatbelt.

  “I’ll take a water,” Sam said. Glenn reached in and got a bottle, handed it to Sam across the cabin.

  Suddenly the limo began to move, sliding smoothly forward. Lacey was surprised; she heard no engine noise.

  “So,” Glenn said. He draped his arms across the seatback on either side of him, relaxing back into the plush seat. “You guys have seen it all: murders, suicides, witches and demons. Does anything surprise you anymore?”

  Lacey and Sam traded knowing looks.

  “Everything surprises us,” she laughed. “We never know from one case to the next what we’ll find. You’d think we’d run into similar situations, but they’re always different.”

  “The human condition, right?” Glenn smiled. He turned to Sam. “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but what’s it like for you on a case? I mean, how do you receive… whatever you receive? Do you see stuff? Hear stuff? Feel stuff?”

  “It’s hard to explain,” Sam said. “It’s primarily feelings, although they can translate into images or sounds. But mostly just feelings.”

  Glenn nodded, his rapt attention evidence he was hoping for more. “I won’t pretend I understand, but I think it’s very cool. I’ve never had a hint of a sixth sense. I think I’m basically a block of wood.” He rapped his knuckles playfully against the side of his head. “I’ll be absolutely fascinated to watch you work.”

  “Did you see our episode on The Restless Dead?” Lacey asked.

  “Yeah. Caught it on YouTube. Amazing stuff.” He leaned forward. “Personally, I think you guys are much more credible than those other two. They really hype it up.”

  “Actually,” Sam said, “they do good work. It’s the studio that wants the hype.”

  “Which is why we haven’t done any more shows,” Lacey added.

  “Oh.” Glenn sat back. “Oh, I get you.” He laughed. “Yeah, that figures, huh? It’s like the movies. Bigger, louder, more car explosions, right?”

  “Right,” Sam affirmed.

  “Yeah. Whatever brings in more box office, whether it’s good writing or acting or not. It all boils down to money.”

  “Which reminds me,” Lacey said. “What can you tell us about Cameron Gregory? Is he really as philanthropic as he seems?”

  Glenn smiled. “He’s a hoot. You’ll like him. And, yes. He is. I’ve never known anyone less interested in money than he is. I mean, he’s got plenty; he doesn’t need more. But you know how so many of those greedy old men have piles of money and they still want more?”

  Lacey and Sam both nodded.

  “He doesn’t. He actually does not know how much money he has, and doesn’t care. He just loves to tinker, to invent things, to do what no one else has ever done. And he loves to help people. He really wants to make a difference to the planet.”

  “That’s commendable,” Lacey said. “I wish we had more like him, with both the will and the means. Too often, people have the will but not the means, or the means but not the will.”

  “That’s for sure,” Glenn agreed. “No, he’s the real deal. He’s really just… amazing.” He spread the fingers of both hands. “The stuff he comes up with, the solutions to problems nobody else ever thought of. I think I’ve seen it all and he just keeps coming up with more ideas. It blows my mind.”

  “How long have you worked for him?”

  “Just over four years. I worked in the investment firm he was with, and we’d get to talking every time he’d come in. We just hit it off, you know? He liked my ideas for diversifying and he liked my organizational skills. Before I knew it, he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.” He shrugged. “You know how it goes; the rest is history.”

  “So you’re his business manager?”

  “Oh, no. I offloaded that a long time ago. Found him some real straight-up people for that. No, I’m his personal assistant, which means I do… whatever he needs. Or if I can’t, I find the people who can. Like you guys.” He grinned.

  Just then the limo tilted slightly, the distant front tires climbing a sloped driveway before the back end caught up.

  “Oh, good. We’re here,” Glenn said.

  “Already?” Lacey looked out the window. “But LAX is…” She was bewildered by what she saw—or didn’t see. There was no terminal, no tower. No scads of traffic clogging the road. She saw a runway, and hangars, a few small planes, but… that’s all.

  “This isn’t LAX, as you’ve probably figured out,” Glenn said. “It’s a private airstrip. Much easier to get in and out of.”

  The limo cruised into the shadow of a large hangar and stopped. Glenn opened the door and climbed out, waiting for Sam and Lacey to follow.

  “This way,” he said. While Ian retrieved the luggage, Glenn led them toward the front of the hangar.

  As soon as they came around the corner, Lacey’s steps slowed and her jaw dropped.

  A sleek private jet sat on the tarmac. It was bright white in the sun, with a gold swoosh from its nose back to the twin engines near the tail. On the broad side of the vertical tail, it said Global 8000. Lacey counted twelve windows along the side of the fuselage.

  “This?” Lacey managed.

  “Yeah. Mr. Gregory lets me take the small jet for things like this. It’s quick and it’s comfortable.”

  The small jet, Lacey repeated to herself as they walked to the waiting stairs. So there’s a bigger one somewhere?

  Glenn led the way up the stairs into the front of the cabin. He moved into the central aisle but stopped there, and Lacey was aware of two more men on the forward side of the doorway.

  “These are our pilots,” Glenn said. “Alex and Scott. They’ll give us a smooth ride.”

  Lacey nodded and murmured hellos to the uniformed men who seemed inordinately thrilled to be there. Their crisp-looking navy blue uniforms had a silver star embroidered on the left breast.

  “Come on back here,” Glenn said. He led the way to a plush configuration of four seats, two on each side of the aisle. The rotating chairs were butter-soft tan leather with cherry wood tables in between. A dark power panel was inset beneath a narrow cherry sideboard, affording access to every possible power source. Glenn held the first chair for Lacey, then took the one opposite as Sam sat beside her.

  “It’ll just be a few minutes until we take off,” he said. “Have you guys had lunch? I arranged a little something to munch on. Here comes Bev now.”

  A navy blue-suited flight attendant joined them and Glenn made the introductions. Bev was tall and slender with honey blonde hair swept back into a stylish chignon.

  “Welcome aboard,” she said with a wide smile. “This is what we have prepared for you today.” She handed Sam and Lacey each a single sheet of heavy coated paper with several entries on it. “You can take your time deciding and then once we’re up, I’ll start serving. Would either of you like anything to drink? We’ve got water, soft drinks, iced tea, wine…”

  “I’m good,” Sam said, showing off his half-full water bottle.

  “Iced tea, please,” Lacey said.

  “Unsweetened, lemon, peach or mango?”

  “Uh, mango. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure. I’ll be back shortly.”

  Lacey was still reeling from the royal treatment when Glenn leaned across the aisle and pointed to the menu. “The seared mahi mahi with basil butter sauce is excellent
, but so is the honey Teriyaki chicken,” he said. “The fruit and cheese platter is good for just nibbling. If you’d rather have breakfast, we can do that, too. Omelets, pancakes, whatever.”

  Lacey nodded mutely. She kept thinking she should pinch herself. Mahi mahi?

  Bev returned with her drink and took their lunch orders. Sam opted for the fruit and cheese while Lacey had to try the honey Teriyaki.

  “I’ll have that, too,” Glenn said. “Oh, looks like we’re ready to go.”

  The jet began to move forward slowly, smoothly. The empty tarmac outside the window slid by as they taxied to the end of the runway.

  Lacey grabbed for her seat belt.

  The little plane was surprisingly nimble, popping up off the runway like a cork and streaking upward. The LA basin shrank below them, the eight-lane freeways and innumerable red tile roofs diminishing into a faded patchwork.

  “I asked Alex to fly over the Grand Canyon,” Glenn said. “That’ll be coming up on your left in a few minutes if you want to get a picture.”

  Lacey did. She knew her phone’s camera would not do it justice—would any camera?—but she snapped a few photos anyway. She glanced over at Sam. This was a view of his Navajo homeland he seldom had. He turned to her and smiled briefly.

  As soon as the plane leveled off at cruising altitude, Bev served lunch. By now, Lacey had high expectations for the meal, and still she was surprised. The chicken was fork-tender, the brown rice and broccoli cooked to perfection. Sam’s platter of cheese and fruit was a dazzling display of colors and textures that fed the eye as well as the palate. What would it be like to have food like this all the time—and not have to cook it? she wondered.

  “I’m going to get an ETA from Alex,” Glenn said after he’d pushed his empty plate away. “By the way, if you feel like napping, there’s a couch in the cabin behind us here. You’re welcome to stretch out and sleep.”

  Sleep? Lacey thought. Who could sleep?

  But the truth was, she did. She ate more than was usual for her, just because the food was so unbelievably delicious, and then the subtle beauty of the mountains, plains and rivers sliding silently by below was too relaxing to resist. She rested her cheek against the silky soft leather seat and succumbed to sleep.

  ~~~

  FOUR

  Their arrival in Newburgh was a smooth reversal of the journey out of LA. Alex, Scott and Beverly all extended thanks and good wishes as Glenn led Sam and Lacey off the plane, and as soon as Ian had the luggage stowed in another stretch limo’s trunk, they were off to the estate. The drive along the Hudson River at twilight was serene but colorless, the black privacy glass dimming the fall color Lacey had looked forward to seeing. Tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow they’d be able to walk outside without the gilded—and shadowed—cage of a limo or a jet to filter the colors of the natural world.

  The ride up the long, straight driveway to the house was impressive. The mansion loomed over the front entry, so tall that Lacey had to scrunch down in her seat to see the top of it. In the gray twilight, warm yellow light spilled from several windows. It looked as welcoming as a two-hundred-year-old mansion could.

  Glenn preceded them to the front door and pushed open the heavy wooden slab, standing aside so Lacey and Sam could enter. Lacey took a few steps inside and stopped to stare.

  The entry hall was huge. It extended upward the full height of the mansion, layered at intervals by the overlooking balconies of the second and third floors. Veined marble tile abutted white walls with golden oak trim; royal blue drapes were swept aside from windows by silver holdbacks. Glancing through the arched doorway, Lacey could see plush royal blue chairs grouped around a huge silver-gray leather sofa.

  Glenn closed the door behind them and glanced at his watch. “We’ve got about forty-five minutes until dinner,” he said. “How about if I give you the quick ten-cent tour and then show you to your room? You have time to freshen up if you like.”

  “Uh, sure,” Lacey said. Ten-cent tour? That was rich.

  “The living room is here,” he said, motioning them toward the silver and blue sitting area. Oak tables gleamed and stylized ceramic lamps looked like works of art. Fresh flowers burst from several vases placed about the room, all different styles and colors. A huge fireplace dominated the side wall, its mantle a thick beam of beautiful burled wood. On the wall above the mantle was a large painting that looked eerily similar to the style of Monet. Lacey weighed the chances of it being an original, and had to side with the positive.

  “In here is the dining room.” Another huge room, long but also wide, was dominated by a table of intricate inlaid wood and chairs for twelve. A glass-doored buffet stood against one wall, displaying translucent china of soft white trimmed with navy blue and pink.

  “The kitchen is here, and you’re welcome to help yourself to anything any time. You can also call down any time and talk to Paloma here, and she’ll arrange to get you whatever you want.” He introduced the slender Hispanic woman in a royal blue dress with a white apron. She looked to be mid-forties with her dark hair coiled up on the crown of her head. She had a wide mouth, a friendly smile and sparkling black eyes.

  “Hello,” she said, shaking both their hands. “Anything you need, you call me. If I’m not here, Jennifer, Dante or Neva can help.” She motioned toward the three younger members of her staff and all three twenty-somethings nodded and smiled.

  “Thank you,” Lacey said. She nodded in return to each of them and barely had time to note the proliferation of stainless steel ovens, refrigerators and small appliances before Glenn was pulling her attention elsewhere.

  “The rumpus room is back here,” he said. Plush navy blue carpet spanned a huge room with windows all across the back wall. There were multiple couches and chairs of soft, tan leather, and a pool table dominated the far side of the room. Lacey counted at least three wide flat-screened TVs mounted on the walls at strategic intervals, and another fireplace was built into the far wall.

  “There’s also a theater and a bowling alley downstairs,” Glenn said, pointing to a stairwell that disappeared below the floor. “And of course the pool outside.”

  Lacey had missed that. It was almost full dark, but through the bank of tall windows, she could see the aqua glow from the pool, its surface rippling gently in a slight breeze.

  “Down this way,” Glenn said, but Lacey had reached her saturation point. She barely noticed the smaller rooms set up for offices and a business center for guests, the multiple bathrooms or the huge solarium that was half tall, arching windows. She found she simply couldn’t take in any more plush furnishings, expensive details and nearly priceless artwork.

  “So, want to see your room?”

  “Oh, yes, please,” she begged.

  Glenn laughed. “Sorry. It’s a bit overwhelming, at first, isn’t it? But I just wanted you to have a sense of it in case you want to wander around and not get lost. Come on upstairs.”

  He pointed out the elevator, and Lacey was tempted, but instead they trooped up the first flight of stairs to the second floor.

  “Third floor is all Mr. Gregory’s,” he noted. “Your room is right here.”

  He pushed open double golden oak doors and stepped aside.

  The by now familiar Gregory color scheme appointed the elegant suite. A large sitting room, larger bedroom, a bathroom with a heated floor, and a compact kitchen area made up the living space. Lacey glanced around and noticed the lack of their luggage. She hated to complain, but…

  “Will, uh, will our luggage be brought up soon?”

  “Oh, it’s already been unpacked and put away.” He pulled open the mirrored sliding glass door to the walk-in closet, and Lacey could see all their shirts and pants hung up in unwrinkled precision.

  “Oh.”

  “The suitcases are under the bed, if you need them,” Glenn continued, “and there’s a small safe in the closet for valuables. This isn’t a hotel, though. All our employees are fully vetted and answer to Mr.
Gregory. We’ve never had a theft.”

  “Nice to know,” Lacey nodded. She glanced at her watch. “So dinner is at…? I’m still on Pacific Time.”

  “Eight o’clock. You’ve got almost a half hour. Just come on down to the dining room when you’re ready. Or if you’d rather, I could come get you.”

  “No, that’s fine,” Lacey said. “We’ll come down. I’m pretty sure we can find it.”

  “Okay, then.” He moved to the door. “I’ll leave you to get settled. See you at eight.”

  As soon as the door’s latch clicked, Lacey fell backward on the bed with a sigh. “Holy cow. What a day. And it’s not over yet.”

  Sam prowled the room, looking out the windows, exploring the kitchen and bathroom.

  “This is like a small apartment,” he said. “You could live here.”

  “Only if the pillows and showerhead are any good.” She grabbed a pillow and jammed it under her head. “Oh, my God. This is heavenly. Firm but scrunchy. And this pillowcase…” She pulled back the corner of the brocade bedspread to feel the sheets underneath. “Ooh. This has to be Egyptian cotton. Obscene thread count.” She burrowed deeper into the pillow. “Can we just call Paloma and have her bring our dinner here?”

  “I have a feeling if we did that, Cameron Gregory would come with it.”

  She groaned. “Yeah, I think you’re probably right.” Without raising her head from the pillow, she glanced around the room. “I feel like a bird in a gilded cage. It’s lush, it’s beautiful, it’s seductive, but…”

  Sam sat on the bed beside her. “But what?”

  “It’s not home.”

  He nodded. “You’re more right than you know.”

  Something in his tone alerted her. She sat up and held the pillow in her lap. “What do you mean? Are you getting anything?”

  “Very little. And that’s exactly the point. I feel like, for most of its life, this place has been a vacation home, that it’s vacant more often than it’s occupied. I’d expect something this old to have several ghosts, but it actually feels pretty clean.”