It was much quieter where we stood, far from the ride and the crowds. I couldn’t even hear music anymore. But the silence did not last long. The sound of hurried footsteps came our way. Whoever was coming made no effort at stealth.
Ralph motioned for two of his guys to take up positions opposite us on either side of that hallway. They did as he asked and disappeared into the darkness, concealing themselves in the shadows. I suddenly felt exposed and looked for shelter. The female security person motioned for me to follow as she crouched behind an enormous oblong metal box with slats. I guessed that it housed fans or a hydraulic pump or an oversized piece of equipment.
Jack slipped in beside me.
Ralph, Dan, and the security guys vanished as they sought cover.
Trampling feet kept coming. Peering between slats, I could see a flashlight’s beam bouncing along the corridor. My heart thumped. Another beam joined the first. Suddenly, half a dozen men burst from the tunnel into the open area. All were dressed in the same Tom-Trooper uniforms, so it was nearly impossible to tell the hostages from the hostage-takers. The entire group froze when Ralph called out, “Stop right there. Drop your weapons and the flashlights.”
A gunshot rang out in response to Ralph’s demand.
“Make a move and we start killing hostages,” an angry voice shouted. “We’re all walking together to that exit door. If you stay put, nobody gets hurt. We’ll go out that side door, and then we’ll let our hostages go.”
“You’ll never make it,” Jack hollered. "We’ve got you surrounded inside and out. In about two minutes, thanks to that gunshot, a small army is going to storm this place. They’re likely to shoot anything that moves. Your best bet is to throw down your weapons, ditch the flashlights, and hit the floor.” My jaw clinched at the prospect of hostages being shot if those fool thieves decided to shoot it out with the S.W.A.T. team. I felt sure that gunshot just overrode Jack’s warning to wait for word from him.
The second Jack finished speaking, the enormous doors began to creak. As they began to ascend, I heard what must have been the sound of guns or flashlights dropping to the ground. Once the door rose half a foot from the floor, the room was flooded with beams of red laser light, seeking out targets. All six men dove for the floor as bright lights sprang to life overhead.
“Hands behind your head,” Jack called out, as he, Ralph, and the security team moved to surround the men on the floor. As armed men came through the open door, Jack hollered, “Beardsley, we’ve got this.”
“Stand down,” a deep voice shouted. The men who had just stampeded into the room shouldered their weapons. Jack gawked at Tom-Troopers sprawled on the ground.
“Let’s get this over with. Georgie, can you come here, please?”
“Yes.” I joined the group standing in the middle of the brightly lit room.
“Which ones are the bad guys?” Jack asked.
I scanned the bodies sprawled on the ground. They all wore corporate Tom-Trooper outfits, but it was evident to me which two were fakes.
“That one with the scabbard on the wrong side. His blade’s missing. He’s not even wearing the Cat’s-Eye Warrior insignia ring. Neither is that one with the boot laces all twisted, his outfit is way too big, and…”
Jack reached out and clasped the hand I was using to point out violations of the Tom-Trooper Cat's-eye Warrior dress code. He winked at me and gave my hand a squeeze before letting it go.
“Cuff them,” Jack said.
Beardsley’s men went into action and grabbed the two men I had pointed out.
“Let’s help these guys get off the floor.” Jack leaned over and offered a hand to one of the remaining prone figures. Ralph and his men helped the rest of the Cat's-Eye Warriors get on their feet.
“Take their statements will you? And then send these hostages home unless you all need something more from them.”
Two uniformed police officers stepped forward to help.
“Who’s minding the store?” Dan asked one of the hostages.
“The rest of the crew is still on duty. We take shift breaks in a rec area near the Control Room. That's what we were doing when those two creeps came into the room waving guns at us. At first, we laughed, thinking it was a prank or a drill. Then one of them punched me in the gut. It stunned me, but it hardly hurt. After that, we did as they told us.”
“Are you sure all of you are okay? Did you bring EMTs with you?” Jack asked Beardsley.
“Yes, sir.” The big man used a mic and his message brought EMTs running into the room. Beardsley pointed them toward the young man who’d been punched.
“The others must be wondering where we are by now,” another of the Cat’s-Eye Warriors added.
“I can take care of that,” Ralph said. “I'll get hold of Yvette Mendoza. We'll see what she can do about closing a bit early—as soon as those already waiting in line get their turn on the Conquest. She can get instructions to the rest of your crew and make sure they know you're all okay.”
With that, I finally allowed myself to relax for the first time since this all began. Then it dawned on me. “Jack, where’s the loot?”
Before he could say a word, my phone rang.
10 Matt Damon
It was after ten o’clock when my phone buzzed, and Carol’s face slid into view once again on the screen. Guilt washed over me. The poor woman had been working like a dog to track down Damon.
“I should have called you,” I said. “We’ve caught the culprits in Arcadia Park.”
“That’s a huge relief. Maybe it doesn’t matter now, but I found Damon.”
“Are you kidding? Does he work for us, after all?”
“No, but he did for a while. I thought I recognized him, even in that icky photo you sent me. The name sounded vaguely familiar too. I tried searching our databases using different spellings of Damon as a first and last name with no luck. Then I started wondering how a cute, young guy who works for us in the park could get into so much trouble around here. A light bulb went on, and I went back to my Cruella de Vil file. Sure enough, that’s where I had seen him before. He was one of Mallory’s ‘boy toys,’ Georgie.”
“No way,” I gasped. “Maybe that explains it.” I told her how the thieves had tried to get into Catmmando Mountain using Mallory’s keycard first, and then succeeded with a counterfeit copy of mine.
“Not smart to use a dead woman’s keycard when they could have used yours in the first place.”
"Yeah, well if they hadn't killed him, Damon probably would have told them to use another card instead. Without him, maybe they weren't certain which card to use. We’ll know more once the police have interviewed them.”
“If they don’t clam up on you. Anyway, I found Damon in a tabloid article titled, ‘Marley World Heiress Dating Matt Damon? It’s Not What You Think.’ That story included pictures of Mallory with not one, but two young and handsome hunks at some party in the park. Damon only worked in the park for six months before Mallory had him transferred to communications as an office assistant. They looked chummy in that photo, but the thing that made him so memorable was the watch he’s wearing. It’s an expensive Swiss bauble by Baume and Mercier. Nice to be an errand boy for the princess. Or at least it was when she was still alive. Damon was terminated shortly after Mallory’s death. Something about unexcused absences in the termination notice.”
“I bet things weren’t as cushy for him after Mallory died,” I said. “As a member of her royal court she would have protected him, at least until she lost interest. He might also have had access to information above his pay grade, stuff like executive keycard codes.”
“He may have been a member of her court,” Carol agreed, “but he doesn’t strike me as the chivalrous type. In another picture at the same party, the handsome knight appears to be checking out Arielle’s sweet little smile.”
A charge passed through my body. Arielle—as in Julie Kennedy? Could she be mixed up in this? If that were true, why on earth would she hav
e squealed on their plans to make their getaway from Catmmando Mountain?
“Is there any way to know which of our Arielles is in that photo?”
“If I could pinpoint when and where they took that picture I might be able to figure it out. All of our Arielles look so much alike, though. The only thing different about this one is a little gap in her two front teeth.”
Julie Kennedy had a tiny gap like that.
“The little wench,” I muttered with my brain still in the knights-and-ladies’ mode.
“What?” Carol asked.
“Nothing, other than a huge thank you, Carol. You might have just kept us from making a big mistake. Matt Damon may not be the only one in that photo who’s tangled up in this mess.”
“Oh no, his name isn’t Matt Damon—the ‘not what you think part of the story’ is the fact that it’s both Matt and Damon basking in the beneficent gaze of Princess Mallory. The article clarified that it’s not a date but one of the many opportunities Marvelous Marley World provides for associates to get up close and personal with upper management.”
I felt a pit open up in my stomach. “Is the other associate named Matthew Seton?”
“Why, yes. How’d you know that? Damon Saunders and Matthew Seton are in that picture together. I was going to suggest that you speak to Seton about his friend, Damon. Matt is still employed here at Marley World, but it sounds like you already know that, don’t you?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. Another chat with Matthew is an excellent idea. Jack’s more likely to do that sooner rather than later, once he gets this information. Great job. You deserve a spa day or something.”
“Ooh, a spa day. That’s the cat’s meow. A purr-fect gift from my boss at the Cat Factory. I’m thrilled at the paw-ssibility.”
Uh oh, cat puns. A sure sign that Carol was worked up and exhausted.
“We’re done here, Carol. Time for you to call it quits and get a good night’s sleep, my friend.”
“I could use a cat nap. Give it no fur-ther thought. Go spring a trap to catch those rats, Georgie.” With that, she hung up.
I relayed the new information to Jack.
That inspired us to return to Backstage Area 3 West on our way home. Could Julie have heard the conversation going on outside the women’s locker room? I remembered how muffled her voice had been when she called out to me from where she was trapped. That quick stop confirmed events could not have occurred as she described them. A confrontation with the facts ought to push Julie to open up. As we walked out Catmmando Mountain for the second time tonight, I still found it hard to believe.
“How could Julie be such a convincing liar? Matthew Seton, too. What is this world coming to?” I asked Jack.
“Fear is a powerful motivator. Julie was scared. That was no act. Matthew's cry of alarm when he got that call from her seemed genuine, too. Before we jump to conclusions, let’s see what Julie has to say. Somehow, I don’t see her as the bloodthirsty killer type, do you? Or Matthew Seton, either.”
“I don’t know,” I said with a sigh. “You have more experience dealing with this kind of deception than I do.”
“I do. Still, I’m a little surprised too, Georgie. My guess is that these two got tangled up in a bigger mess than the one you rescued Julie from earlier tonight. Young people can do some dumb things. Remember that awful situation on the beach when you were Julie’s age?”
“I certainly never saw that coming. Let’s hope you’re right, and this is more about them being young and scared rather than vicious and deceitful.”
“I’ll be direct with Julie when I ask her to give us a formal statement tomorrow,” Jack said. “We need to have another chat with her boyfriend, Matthew, too. Let’s get you home.”
“What if Julie makes a run for it tonight?”
“She and Matthew are both under surveillance. If either one of them takes off, we’ll be on it, I promise. I don’t know about you, but I could use some sleep. I’m getting too old for these late capers. You younger women have to take it easy on us old guys.”
“Oh, please, what a line. I’m not even five years younger than you.”
“You know what I mean. Besides, Miles is probably worried and upset. I’ll bet he’s staring out the window, waiting for my car to pull into the driveway. You know who he’s going to blame for keeping you out late, don't you? Not to mention, I still haven’t had my dessert.”
“I thought you said you were tired.”
“Never too tired for dessert. Come on, sweetheart. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.” Jack said, in his hokey PI voice as he pulled me close. His kiss lit a fire, but also put out the one that had driven me to keep searching for missing pieces of the puzzle despite the late hour.
Fatigue hit me like a ton of bricks. I leaned my head against his chest for a moment, and then gave him a good thump.
“Okay, let’s go face the music. Miles is going to have a few trumpet blasts for both of us. I’ll do my best to explain it was all my fault.”
“He’ll never believe it, but thanks for trying,” Jack said as we walked out, arm in arm.
“I need that chocolate fix more than ever,” I said.
11 Ella Sings
The following evening, Jack sat with me on the veranda in a state of near-bliss. The man loves chocolate as much as I do, which was only one of the reasons we might be soul mates. He had just finished a hot fudge brownie sundae. I had made everything from scratch: brownies; hot fudge sauce; and vanilla ice cream. A culinary event that wasn’t likely to happen again soon. The avalanche of sugar and caffeine was fabulous, but I didn’t want to kill the new man in my life by assaulting his triglycerides too often. I told him that.
“We’ve all got to go sometime. Death by chocolate is about as good a way to go as any. Eat dessert first and die a happy man.”
We had skipped our meal and settled for eating dessert because he had been held up by some last minute mix-up at work. There was a lot going on as they sifted through the information collected at multiple crime scenes and interviewed all the parties involved.
“I have to agree with you about death by chocolate,” I said. “Not right away, I hope. I’m looking forward to years of adventure with Jack Wheeler. I could do with a little less murder and mayhem, but I guess it goes with the territory when you date a homicide detective.”
“Several of my homicide investigations this year involved you, one way or another. I’m beginning to suspect you’re a dangerous woman, Georgie, and that's more than your knife skills or your capacity to deliver death by chocolate. Despite its reputation, Marvelous Marley World is no haven.”
“That has a lot to do with the legacy of our very own Cruella de Vil. Who knew she could reach out from the grave with one of those bony fingers of hers and wreak such havoc?” I bristled at the thought of the destruction one woman had wrought.
“Poor Max,” Jack said, “I’m sure the last thing he needed was to find out that his dead daughter had planned yet another surprise for her dear old dad before she died.”
“He’s taking it pretty well, Jack. In fact, it’s been a big relief to find out that Mallory didn’t succeed in selling his artwork and collectibles as she intended to do. Max and Clara were beside themselves that night, because they both knew many of the items on display were fakes. Clara had only recently made that discovery when Max asked for the space to feature the artist renderings and a scale model of New Arcadia. When Clara inventoried the items on display, she got a shock.”
“So much for museum-quality security, huh?”
“The high level of security is the main reason Clara suspected Mallory had to be behind the fraud. Whoever did it had ongoing access to the archive and knowledge about the contents, as well as time and money to replace the real items with fakes. None of the items had shown up at auction or on the Internet so she held out hope that she’d find them. Which she did after going through Mallory’s personal records. Clara found payments from Mallory to a high-end facility wher
e she stored her furs."
"Would you expect anything else from Cruella de Vil?” I asked in response to Jack’s raised eyebrows. “Clara contacted them and found they not only stored the furs for her, but also a wine collection and art—including the items she had stolen from her father.”
“It's a shame they didn't tell us all of this that night. I’m not sure what difference it would have made, but I would have preferred to know that Mallory might be in the mix, somehow,” Jack said as he set his spoon down next to his empty bowl.
“That’s what Clara and Max were arguing about. Once Clara had located Mallory’s stash there wasn’t any crime to report, and until she went through everything in that vault, she couldn’t vouch for the status of the collection.”
“I suppose Max didn’t want that information to get around.”
“Yes, Jack. In its entirety, Max's collection is valued at tens of millions of dollars. Piecemeal or picked over it’s worth a lot less. Max couldn’t afford for that to get out because he’d put the archive up as collateral for a loan to ‘seed’ the New Arcadia venture. He had already started talking about putting a chunk of his personal assets into ‘making the real world an even more marvelous place.’ Stacy had the PR machine cranking, creating the buzz needed to attract investors.”
“Since there’s been no news about it, I presume that means Max’s precious collection is intact.”
“For the most part. Clara’s still going through everything, but Max’s most prized possessions are there and in good shape.”
“A heist to cover a heist—who could have imagined that? Those goons who thought they had scored big were dupes, too. A heist in which the thieves get suckered is a new one for me. I’ve dealt with all sorts of fraud over the years, but this one takes the cake.”
I turned things over in my head. “Hmm. Mallory’s reliance on boy toys from Marley World and the bad boys she had met in rehab might have worked if she’d been around to play mistress of the dark. But without her calling the shots, it all went off the rails, fast. She hadn’t told any of them the whole story, so they had no idea they were stealing fakes to cover up her theft and fraud.”
All Hallows' Eve Heist, Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery #2 (Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery Series Book 3) Page 7
