Bonefire of the Vanities

by Carolyn Haines

  “Don’t hold your breath.” Feeding third-world countries was not on Marjorie’s agenda. Her entire focus had shifted to patching the rift with Chasley, and she was throwing every penny she had at it.

  Through the long listing of goods, Chasley was propped against a wall of the suite. He showed no emotion, and I wondered if he’d known what all his mother had accrued in her lifetime.

  Lacey printed the document in Brandy’s office and presented it for signatures. Marjorie signed with a flourish. Tinkie and I had no choice but to serve as witnesses, and lo and behold, Brandy appeared with her notary seal. The talents of the Westins went on and on.

  Marjorie was adamant that not another minute should pass without the new will created, signed, and prepared. Spoiled and used to having her own way, Marjorie let us all know that instant gratification was not fast enough for her.

  Luckily Marjorie had no life-threatening illnesses. Given enough time, she might change her mind about the dispossession of her wealth. Or perhaps she would come to terms with Chasley and they would undo the past and become a loving family.

  I’d seen glimmers of a hurt and unhappy man behind Chasley’s perpetual sneer. Being excluded can make a person mean and spiteful. This rapprochement might lead to a kinder, gentler Chasley. Hell, if I stood to gain billions, I could work hard to be loving and tender.

  Five minutes after Lacey left, my cell phone rang. Coleman’s warm baritone, filled with concern, asked if I was okay.

  “We’re all fine,” I assured him, then told him our covers were blown, Amaryllis was missing, Roger was hiding out from his irate wife and a pissed-off me, and Yumi Kato might be a hit woman.

  “I’ll be heading your way as soon as I wrap up this murder. Peckerhead-on-peckerhead crime spree. One man is dead and two gut-shot. They argued over the best battery for an ATV.”

  “Say that again?” Surely I’d heard him wrong.

  “Baxter Ray shot his cousin Earl Ray and killed him, and then shot two other drinking buddies in the gut because they disagreed with Baxter that Polaris was a better battery than Yuasa.”

  “He killed a man over which battery is best?”

  “Like I said, peckerhead-on-peckerhead crime.”

  I bit back a remark about Darwin and evolution. Coleman took all crime seriously, and I respected that. “When do you think you’ll get here?”

  “Couple of hours. Let me round up Baxter Ray. He took off through the woods vowing to kill Earl Ray’s wife and kids. I don’t think he’d really do it, but he was pretty drunk.”

  “Make it as quick as you can.”

  “I’ll put out an APB for Ms. Dill. If we find her, that’s one less worry. We still have to find Amanda’s and Lola’s killer. Watch your back, Sarah Booth.” Coleman’s words mimicked my thoughts and I was aware once again of the bond we shared.

  “Will do.”

  Marjorie, will in hand, wanted to hit the road. Dwarfed by all her possessions, she tossed orders left and right. “Call Palk to move the remainder of my things downstairs. You, pack my shoes.” She gave the order as if Tinkie and I really were hired servants. The path of least resistance dictated I do what she asked.

  I got Palk and two of the guards to haul the rest of the bags to the hired car that waited in front of the house. Marjorie had not wasted a moment. When everything was loaded, Marjorie kissed both Tinkie and me on the cheek. The driver handed her into the backseat. She let the window down. “I’ll put a check in the mail to you. Thank you for all you’ve done.”

  “No rush,” Tinkie said, and this time I kicked her on the back of her calf. She might not need the money, but I did.

  “You’ve both been wonderful to an old woman.” She took a deep breath. “I believe Chasley and I will work this out. We have to.”

  “We didn’t really resolve the issue of Mariam,” I reminded her. I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. I was ready to tell her about the ghostly presence I’d seen, the young girl asking me to protect her mother. I worried for Marjorie and consoled myself that now she looked better than I’d seen her. Strong and determined. Hopeful, even. Perhaps it was time to put Mariam to rest and focus on the living.

  Marjorie grasped my fingers lightly. “You made me understand resolution isn’t important. What matters is Chasley, my living child. Because of you and Tinkie, we have time to repair those years of damage.”

  Chasley exited the house, his bags in hand. He continued past me and Tinkie and kissed Marjorie tenderly on the cheek. “I’ll be right behind you, Mother.” Her car began to pull away.

  “Wait a minute!” Tinkie ran alongside the window. “You forgot Pluto!”

  Holy bejesus, in all the excitement, the cat had been overlooked. If Pluto realized how severely he’d been snubbed, he would definitely make someone pay for the oversight. Marjorie had a lot of shredded furniture in her future. “I’ll get him.”

  “Wait!” Marjorie’s voice was strong. She motioned both me and Tinkie to the car window. “Would you find Pluto a new home? I can’t take him.”

  I couldn’t believe this. Pluto was once the heir apparent of her fortune. Now he was dumped? “You aren’t going to abandon Pluto, are you?” I couldn’t understand how someone could simply walk away from a living creature that was part of a family.

  “I have to, Sarah Booth.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Chasley needs for me to do this. For once in his life, he has to come first. Pluto attacked him. Justified or not, Chasley has not forgiven the cat. He’s asked me to get rid of him. In this instance, I have to make my son believe I choose him over anyone or anything else.”

  I started to say something harsh, but Tinkie grabbed my arm and squeezed. “It isn’t fair of Chasley to ask you to pick him between two things you love,” she said softly.

  “Perhaps it isn’t, but what I’ve done to Chasley isn’t right, either. As much as it distresses me, I need to find Pluto a new home.”

  “If you leave him here, the Westins will take him to the pound.” What in the hell was she thinking—just to walk off like he was an unwanted shoe?

  “You and Tinkie won’t leave him here. I know you that well.” Her smile was sad. “I have no choice.”

  “You have a huge home. Surely you could put Pluto in a part of the house where he wouldn’t interfere with Chasley.” I couldn’t accept this. “The cat is attached to you. Think how he’ll feel when he realizes he’s been thrown away.”

  “Maybe, after some time, I can reclaim him. Right now, though, I have to make it clear to Chasley that nothing stands between us. Not even a cat. I’ll include a handsome amount in my check to cover his future vet bills and food.” She reached out the window and caught hold of my wrist. “I know you’ll find someone to take good care of him. Thank you.”

  She disengaged and leaned back into the seat. “I’m ready to go.”

  The limo pulled away, followed by Chasley’s car. Marjorie had taken a huge step in her life. I hoped it would bring her happiness and peace, but it was my personal opinion such things couldn’t be bought by shirking responsibility.

  “I can’t believe she just left Pluto,” Tinkie said. “Maybe she never really cared for him. Maybe she left everything to him to piss off Chasley.”

  “Maybe.” Tinkie was angry, but my anger had given way to confusion. I didn’t understand her action. I’d worry about that another day, though. I was bone weary. Every muscle I had throbbed from my tumble down the stairs, but the night was far from done.

  * * *

  Graf, Tinkie, and I gathered in the drawing room. Palk had been sent by the Westins to give the perimeter guards their orders, but I was growing concerned. He should have been back, and I wondered if he’d tricked me. Were he and Yumi working together?

  Oscar joined us. He’d been called to the Westins’ inner sanctum. “Brandy has informed me we’re not wanted here,” Oscar said. “She’s ordered us all to leave. Immediately.”

  “There may be a killer on the loose,” I protested. Brandy’s
actions made no sense. “We can’t leave. At least not until Coleman gets here. The other guests could be in danger.”

  “Brandy and Sherry are locked on the third floor with all sorts of electronic security.” Oscar ticked off the reasons. “The other guests are supposed to be locked in their rooms. The help has been ordered to their rooms in the bunkhouse, with the exception of the guards, who are all on alert. She claims they’re perfectly safe and we are the only danger.”

  “Yumi could be anywhere on the premises. If she is the killer, what’s to stop her from striking again?”

  “Motive,” Tinkie said. “She killed Amanda because Amanda found out what Yumi was. Remember the video on Amanda’s phone. She had evidence of Yumi talking to Lucas Faver, only we didn’t put it together at the time. Yumi had been paid to kill Amaryllis. And she killed Lola, thinking she was her designated target, Amaryllis. If Amaryllis has skipped out, there’s no reason for Yumi to stay. She’s probably on the dance teacher’s tail. Yumi didn’t strike me as someone who gave up easily.”

  Justice had not been served in my book. Two women were dead and the killer was still in the wind.

  “We have no authority to stay here,” Oscar said. “I hate to leave like this, but we don’t have a choice. Your work with Marjorie is finished. She’s safely gone and reuniting with her son.”

  Oscar’s sensible approach left me uneasy. “We’ll leave when Coleman gets here. Shouldn’t we warn Gretchen and Shimmer? We can’t just waltz out of here.”

  “Graf and Oscar alerted them both and offered to take them with us. They refused. Let’s pack our things,” Tinkie said. “It won’t take long. Maybe Coleman will arrive before we’re loaded.”

  Graf’s warm embrace took away some of the sting, but I’d never left a case half solved. Sure, finding a killer wasn’t what I’d been hired to do, but we were in the middle of it. It felt wrong not to finish.

  “I’ll get our clothes from the bunkhouse,” Tinkie offered. “Oscar will go with me to protect me.” She batted her lashes while her hands circled his arm. “He’ll make sure no one bothers me.”

  Clever girl. I wished I could emulate her, but it wasn’t who I was. “I’ll check upstairs. Graf, would you bring the cars around front so we can load?”

  “Anything for my fiancée.” He kissed my forehead.

  So it was done. We dispersed and went about our separate chores. Except I couldn’t give up that easily. Before I left, I had to search the rooms where Palk and Yumi stayed. I didn’t expect to find the Korean chef, but I might find evidence. It wasn’t in me to quit without trying.

  While padding softly down the carpeted hallway, I heard steps behind me. I caught the scent of rain, even though I was indoors and the weather outside was hot, humid, and rain-free. I turned to see a shapely silhouette in a trench coat. Beautiful waves of light brown hair fell below the brim of a hat that shadowed her face.

  I was on to Jitty now. I knew exactly who she was. She’d abducted the character created by Sara Paretsky, V. I. Warshawski. “Sometimes the shit comes down so hard, you have to wear a hat,” I said wittily, quoting a line from one of her movies.

  “Don’t ever go on Jeopardy!, Sarah Booth. Right actress, wrong movie. That was Body Heat.” Jitty glided forward, her hands tucked in the pockets of her coat. “A dame has to be careful in these halls. Chicago’s a tough town, but Heart’s Desire has more murders per capita,” she said. “No telling who, or what, you might run up against in this dump.”

  Despite Jitty’s penchant for provoking, she worked on me like quinine on malaria. One mention of the possibility of danger, and I spun in all directions, positive I would come face-to-face with a killer.

  The hallway was empty.

  “What are you doing creeping around the staff’s quarters?” she asked. “This place smells like sex.”

  The remark threw me completely off my investigative stride. I took a deep breath and several short sniffs. “What do you mean, it smells like sex?”

  She gave me a glare from under the brim of the hat. “You know, funky, sweaty sex. Somebody’s been having a marathon down here.”

  “How can you tell? I can’t smell anything except carpet cleaner and wood wax.”

  “You’ve been working as a maid too long. Snatch the dust mop out of your nostrils and take a whiff. Or better yet, climb those stairs to Hollywood Handsome’s bedroom and practice exchanging bodily fluids with that man before your eggs rot and crack open.”

  “That image really makes me want to get carnal with Graf.” Just when I thought she’d given up on haranguing me about my ticking biological clock, she body-slammed me again. “I still don’t smell anything.”

  She waved aside my objections. “I asked you what you’re doing down here.”

  “Investigating.”

  “I would have said snooping.”

  “Have it your way. I’m snooping. I want to search Palk’s and Yumi’s digs. Palk’s marshaling the guards, but he’s been gone a long time. I consider him MIA. Yumi may have eaten him, or he may have hooked up with her. What are you doing here?”

  “The same.”

  My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You’ve come to help?”

  “Don’t act so shocked. I’m worried about the home-wrecker. And where the heck is Roger Addleson?”

  That couldn’t be good. Did Jitty have inside info? “Is Amaryllis alive?”

  Jitty shrugged. “I don’t always get the full details.”

  Great. A half-informed ghost who was wasting my time sniffing in empty corridors. “I have to get busy.” I continued down the hall to Palk’s door. His cracked door. Curiosity got the better of me, and I pushed it wider with my toe. What would Palk’s lair contain? Leather masks, chains, manacles?

  “Don’t leave any fingerprints, Sarah Booth. If it’s a crime scene, you don’t want to implicate yourself.”

  “Palk’s perversions may be creepy, but they aren’t a crime.” I inched inside. “But I might find evidence that is.”

  “Listen.”

  Jitty’s whisper brushed like a spiderweb against my face. An erratic thumping came to me. “What’s that?”

  I turned for her response, but Jitty was gone. Damn it. She wasn’t any kind of crime-solving partner. One minute she was helping; the next she’d flown the coop. I was on my own in Palk’s apartment. His dark apartment. His apartment that did smell of sex.

  “Eeeewwww.” I pushed those images out of my brain and got busy.

  The thumping came again from an interior room. I had two options. I could use the flashlight, which might give away my position, or I could turn on some lights. That, too, would reveal my presence, but it would also allow me to see the landscape.

  I found a light switch, pushed it up, and dived against the wall. Light flooded the tastefully decorated apartment. Antiques, leather-bound books, a stereo system that was on but silent, several well-tended plants, lovely ceramics on the mantel, and Victorian prints hanging on the walls. The décor spoke of an established home and a person who selected his possessions with great care.

  Not a single trace of a hockey mask–wearing cross-dresser who liked stockings and women with whips.

  The thumping resumed, this time with more urgency. It was almost like a code. Was it an SOS? Was it Amaryllis?

  I turned down a narrow hallway and silently made my way to a closed door. I wasn’t an idiot—it crossed my mind I’d stumbled into a setup. I hesitated. The bumping thudded again, combined with someone trying to yell. Someone gagged.

  I kicked the door and rolled into the room, gaining my feet with the flashlight swinging. The narrow beam captured Palk, trussed like Tom Turkey awaiting the axe and chopping block. “Saint Sebastian jumping hurdles!”

  Palk’s face was so red, I thought his head might pop like a zit. He thudded his feet and tried to scream at me, but a ball gag stifled him. His hands and legs were bound with bungee cords.

  I removed the gag and gave him a minute to catch his breath. I d
idn’t doubt that Yumi had once again hornswoggled the butler, and she could still be in his apartment. I remained alert, but I couldn’t resist tormenting him. “Another case of sex gone bad? Forgot your safe word, did you?”

  “That bitch! She knocked me out. I decided to search her rooms. I thought she’d taken a runner, escaped. I didn’t hear her. She’s only been gone ten minutes. Untie me, quick.”

  Palk’s words galvanized me to action. I managed to unhook the bungee cords, and he scrambled to his feet. “Let’s find Yumi before she harms anyone else.” My fiancé and friends could be her next victims.

  “She’s like some martial arts expert. She kicked me in the back of the knees and then clobbered me with a statue. I’ve never seen anything like her except in a movie. She’s been skillfully trained.” He picked up a bronze statue from the floor.

  A rendering of Venus, goddess of love. A bit of irony.

  Palk grasped my arm. “She’s going to dice Amaryllis like an onion if we don’t find her fast.”

  Palk and I tore out of his apartment and searched the remaining rooms. Yumi’s bedroom was enough to make anyone suspicious. Her closet contained only generic black slacks and black tops. In four shoeboxes we found an arsenal of handguns and knives. A crossbow was propped against the back wall of her closet.

  “What? She thinks she’s Robin Hood?”

  “She thinks she’s going to kill Amaryllis and then flee the country. She already has a passport in another name and citizenship papers for Argentina. I found them, too.”

  Palk yanked empty drawers from her dresser. It was evident she viewed her stay at Heart’s Desire as temporary.

  “She took the keys to my car. I suspect she’s managed to get out of Heart’s Desire, but I’ll question the guards at the gate to be sure. Yumi destroyed the radio transmitter we used to speak with the main gate, and the telephone line. I’ll have to walk there. Working here, spending time with me, she learned how everything functions at Heart’s Desire. I betrayed the Westins, and she betrayed me.”

  I couldn’t believe it, but I felt sorry for Palk. Even ogres suffered when betrayed.