Room for Doubt
Page 21
So much for conversation. I grabbed an empty desk, picked up the phone and placed another call to Andrea Reddings. In the back of mind, I continued to think of her as a safe second. If something happened to DJ, I didn’t want to be left wondering what to do with Sally.
The housekeeper answered exactly as she had before and with the same response. Ms. Reddings was not available. Again?
“May I leave a message?”
“You may, but it could be several days before Ms. Reddings is able to return your call. She’s away on business, checking on some properties.”
Something about the way she said, “away on business” bothered me. I asked, “Is she expected to return anytime soon?”
“I’m sorry. I’m afraid I can’t answer that. Ms. Reddings doesn’t discuss her schedule with me. She may be back tomorrow or next month. I never know. But as I said, if you’d like for me to take a message, I’d be happy to.”
“No. That’s fine. I’ll catch her when she’s in town again. Thank you.”
Was it a coincidence or was Misty rubbing off on me? Something about Andrea’s travel schedule seemed off. With her husband dead, his accused killer in jail, and a trial pending, it seemed an odd time for a business trip. What properties might she be checking where she felt compelled to stay for an extended period of time? And why now? My mind flashed on a painting I’d seen above the mantel in Reddings’ estate. A serene beach scene with a beautiful native girl reclining on the sand in front of a pink stucco villa, surrounded by swaying palms and orchids. She called it one of Marcus’ expensive apologies. Something he had purchased along with an island retreat. Could she be there? And if she were, might it also have been DJ’s safe house? DJ had described the house as a Hawaiian villa. Was it a coincidence or a connection?
The door to Tyler’s office opened, and he walked out with Silva at his side. From behind them, the station’s attorney, Mr. King, appeared. It didn’t take being a reporter to know that whatever had transpired inside the room wasn’t good. Chase was right. Silva was out. There was no doubt about it. Silva was ashen. His normally ramrod straight posture now round-shouldered, like a drill sergeant who had just been stripped of his rank. I watched as Silva brushed his bony fingers through his thinning hair and mumbled something to Tyler. Then, with one final handshake, said goodbye. King patted Tyler on the back, then turned to Silva and escorted him out of the newsroom. I assumed King was taking him downtown where Silva would turn himself in, but the scene played out more like a prisoner being walked from his jail cell to his execution.
Tyler spotted me sitting at the desk. He waved me over, like a traffic cop. “Carol, my office. Now.”
I followed him into his office.
“Silva’s out. We’re going to need to get something on the air for the next newscast. He’s about to be charged with vehicular homicide. He came by here on his way to turn himself in this morning. Wanted to consult with the station’s attorney.”
“He have any comment? Anything official you’d like to have us put out?”
“Only that he’s very sorry for the pain and suffering he’s caused. The usual. You know what to do. Get something on the air right away and keep it simple. Meanwhile, I’ve got a show to fill Saturday night.”
I stood up. I didn’t want Tyler to think of me as a possible fill-in for Silva. Not now. And certainly not this Saturday night. I beat it down the hall and into the news booth just in time to deliver the eight a.m. top of the hour news. I led with news of Ben Silva’s impending arrest.
CHAPTER 39
By Friday morning I was getting anxious. I hadn’t heard from DJ since we’d discussed our plans for Saturday, and her car wasn’t in her usual space in the parking lot. When I asked her assistant where she was, Molly told me DJ had been delayed in New York due to the weather. Blizzard conditions had dumped nearly twenty-six inches of snow on the city, and all flights in and out of the area had been grounded. Travelers were advised to stay home. Only a miracle would get her home by Saturday afternoon.
“Where’s she now?” I asked.
“Stuck in the airport. Been there for the last twelve hours. She said she’s not leaving ’til she’s got a seat. She thinks there’s a chance she might be able to get a flight out late tonight or first thing tomorrow morning.”
I didn’t want to sound overly concerned, so I told her I was hoping DJ might have a chance to listen to my show Sunday night.
Molly shook her head. “I doubt it. Before she left, she asked me to clear her schedule. She said she wanted some personal time and would be out of earshot. She’s not due back in the station for another week.”
I left Molly in the hallway and hurried back to my office where I called DJ’s cell. The line went immediately to voicemail. I left a carefully coded message, making certain I didn’t make any reference to our plan.
“DJ. It’s Carol Childs. I wanted you to know how much I appreciate your support and talking to me last week. Everything’s set for my show this weekend. I was hoping you might be able to tune in, but Molly tells me you’re stuck at JFK. Call me if you get a chance. I’d love to chat before I go on air. Sure could use some moral support. Talk soon.”
I hung up and stared at my phone. If DJ was stuck in the airport, why hadn’t she picked up? What if she didn’t make it back to LA in time? Now that I had set the plan in motion, what was I going to do with Sally? And an even bigger worry, what was I going to do with Chase?
I hadn’t a clue how I would handle him. And right now, while DJ wasn’t calling me back, Chase was. His latest request was for us to drive to Fermin Park together. He thought it might be nice and suggested we have dinner before our staged rendezvous with Sally. I definitely wasn’t up for dinner. Nor was I about to sit alone in a car with Chase for an hour’s drive to the park. The memory of his cologne alone had caused my mind to wander, and I didn’t trust I might accidentally let something slip about DJ or Sally. Spending any more time with him than necessary was out of the question.
As for my backup plan to contact Andrea Reddings and ask for her help, that wasn’t working either. She hadn’t returned any of my calls, and nobody on her staff was talking. She had simply disappeared.
In the middle of the night, I got a text from DJ. I had left my cell phone on my nightstand, just in case, and when I heard it buzz, I sat up in bed like someone had fired off a gunshot. I reached for the bedside table and fumbled for my cell phone.
DJ’s coded text read: Sorry for the delay getting back to you. Looking forward to your show. Don’t worry, I’ll be there for you. You’ve got this.
I’ve got this?
I stared at the text. If DJ only knew the whole of it. All the moving pieces I was still trying to finagle into place. Chase and me. Sally and me sans Chase. DJ and Sally. I lay awake the rest of the night, tying the sheets in knots. How had I’d gotten myself into such a mess? If this whole kidnapping idea didn’t go down as well as DJ predicted, would the station’s attorney be advising me about my rights? Would I go to jail as an accessory to a crime? Murder? Kidnapping? And what about DJ, would she walk away from me, deny she had anything to do with it? Finally, exhausted with the possibilities, I fell asleep and dreamt about Chase. He was tugging at my arm, pulling me away from the cliff’s edge. I could see the rocky shore below me, the waves crashing on the rocks, the white water churning in the dark. And then in the next scene, Chase with his sucker in his mouth was turning me over to LAPD for interfering in a criminal investigation. I woke up in a sweat. From the kitchen, I could hear the sound of water running and the clanking of pots and pans. I grabbed my robe, headed downstairs, and found Misty, buzzing around like a short order cook
“Misty?” I noticed she had on a new apron and beneath it a long vintage paisley skirt I hadn’t seen before. Was it my imagination or were her cheeks rosier and her eyes a little brighter? “You look nice today. Anything special going on?”
I looked around the room. Where was Charlie?
Misty answered like she had read my mind. “Your son’s out checking on my van. I suggested he drive us to the park. We’re going to meet Sheri and Clint down at the USS Iowa. Have you ever seen it? I thought the boys would enjoy the outing, and it’s a good excuse to get everyone down to Long Beach. From there it’s just a short drive to Point Fermin, where you and Sheri can split off and do your thing.” She winked. “You want coffee?”
“Are you okay?” I stood at the foot of the stairs and scanned the kitchen. It was spotless. If I didn’t know better, I would swear someone, other than my sixteen-year-son who couldn’t pick up a bag of potato chips without being asked twice, had been assisting her in the kitchen “You sure you’re not overdoing it?”
“I’m fine. In fact, I’m better than fine.” Misty stood in front of the stove and turned to me. In her hand, she waved a spatula above her head. “I’ve seen Dr. Sam.”
“Dr. Sam? I thought we were going to do tea together sometime. Maybe next week?”
“That might’ve been fine for you, but evidently not for him. He called the house, and when I answered the phone, he wanted to set something up. We both agreed, why wait?”
“I see. So you meet with him?”
“At my age, Carol, waiting is for those who have time. Besides, he wanted to know more about my herbs, and I invited him over to see my garden.”
I took the spatula from Misty’s hand. “Are you taking something?”
“Why?” She snatched the spatula back from me like a child and smiled.
“You seem different this morning. Did Dr. Sam give you something?”
Misty turned back to the stove. “If you must know, yes. He gave me some pills to help me sleep. He thought it might help with my memory. I take one of his magic pills along with my sleeping beauty tea, and it’s like somebody switched off the lights. He assured me they’re nothing more than a few natural herbs like what I grow. And, for what it’s worth, I think I look better too. Don’t you?”
Misty angled her body towards me and, taking the side of her skirt in her hand, did a small curtsy.
“New skirt?” I asked.
“No. Not new. I just remembered where I’d put it. Amazing how a good night’s sleep perks one up. I feel ten years younger. Which reminds me. I thought you might like to try one too.” Misty reached into the apron’s pocket, pulled out a small oval-shaped purple pill, and placed it in my hand.
“Me?” I stared at the pill. Were the walls that thin she’d heard me tossing and turning? “You think I need it?”
Misty drew her lips together and shook her head. “Not you, Carol, but someone close to you.” Then tapping her index finger against my heart, she smiled and waited for me to catch on.
“For Chase then?” I folded my fingers over the palm of my hand and squeezed it tight. “Misty, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Carol.” Misty turned back to the stove, then muttered, “Unless, you’re reading my mind. Which could only mean you’re finally beginning to understand the principles of psychic thought. The transference of an idea from one mind to another.”
“You know I don’t believe in that stuff, Misty. If anything, I think maybe it’s more intuition.” I opened my hand and stared back down at the pill. Intuition or otherwise, I had my answer. It would be easy enough to crush the capsule up and disguise it any way I wanted. “But for what’s it worth, thank you. I could use a sleeping pill and some of your special tea too.”
CHAPTER 40
By the time we left for Long Beach, it had started to rain again. Misty insisted Charlie drive the van, that the experience would be good for him. I wasn’t so sure that was a good idea, what with traffic and slick roads and all, but Misty assured me her hippie van had gone hundreds of thousands of miles and was immune to road hazards, man-made or otherwise. Plus, she couldn’t drive, not with the pills she had been taking, and I had never driven a stick shift and taking my car was out of the question. I needed to keep a low profile, and my ten-year-old red Jeep with its KNST bumper stickers and window decals stuck out like an overripe tomato. Charlie was our only option.
Misty volunteered to ride gunshot. She and Charlie had developed a routine on their afternoon drives, and she thought I would only make him nervous sitting up front. I agreed and buried myself behind the van’s small kitchen table in the back with my portable computer. I wanted to monitor the Butterflies chat room for any activity, while I referred to my notes concerning tonight’s operation. I pulled up a map of the park on my computer screen and was about to review my plan when Jennifer’s cell phone buzzed from within my pocket.
The sound of it so startled me that as I reached into my pocket for the phone, I nearly knocked my computer off my lap. Misty’s eyes flashed back at me. Was it Sally? I put my finger to my lips, shook my head, and answered.
“Carol, it’s Jennifer Lamb.”
I had forgotten she had the number. “Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry to call on this line. I know you wanted to keep it clear for Sally, but you weren’t answering your cell, and, well, it’s kind of an emergency.”
I exhaled while I fished inside my bag with my free hand for my own cell phone. I had turned it off to avoid any further calls from Chase. He had continued to pester me about driving to the park with him, and by now I was running out of excuses. Earlier, I had told him Sheri, Misty, and I were taking the boys to Long Beach for a family outing. That it was part of my plan to keep Charlie busy and unaware of my clandestine activities. I explained I would catch up with him in the parking lot in plenty of time for what I was now calling Operation Butterfly. But Chase was having trouble taking no for an answer. My phone registered two missed calls and a text, ending with a smiley face and the words, See you at the park. 7:30 p.m.
I placed my cell on the table in front of me and asked Jennifer what was wrong.
“It’s Jason.” she said.
“Jason?” I glanced at Misty and shrugged. “What’s happened?”
“He’s back.”
“Back? I thought after I left your apartment you told me you were going home, back to San Francisco.”
“I couldn’t go. He showed up before I had a chance to leave. We talked, and one thing led to another, and…well, he said he loves me, Carol. He wants to get back together. And, I’m confused. I don’t know what to do. I was hoping I could talk to Misty.”
“Misty?”
“Yes. I heard her on the show with you last week. She made a lot of sense. I was hoping you could put me in touch with her.”
“I can do better than that. She’s here with me right now.” I rolled my eyes and handed the phone to Misty.
“It’s for you, Misty. You have a fan.”
CHAPTER 41
Over dinner, I apologized to Charlie and Clint for having to break up the family outing. Our day-long adventure aboard the USS Iowa offered everything two teenage boys could have wanted. They rang the ship’s bell, manned the anti-aircraft guns, stood behind the sixty-six-foot-long turrets, and climbed the impossibly steep steel stairs between decks like seamen recruits. Then, just as we were about to order dessert, Tyler called. Or at least I feigned his call. I explained to the boys I was needed to cover a breaking story, but I’d be back soon. Sheri took that as her cue to volunteer to drive me since I didn’t have a car. Her car would serve as my portable dressing room. Allowing me to change into my Jennifer costume, complete with wig and makeup, while driving to the park. In our absence, Misty agreed she and the boys would wander over to Shoreline Village, where they could hang out until I was free to join them again.
Score one for the first part of my plan. The boys were taken care of, and Charlie, thank goodness, didn’t
have a clue what I was about to do, and hopefully never would.
Part two was going to be more difficult.
I knew instantly when Sheri and I arrived at the park my plan wasn’t going to work. A huge event was going on in Area Two where I was to meet Sally. Hundreds of people were milling around. That in itself might not have been a problem. Sally had told me she liked to hide in plain sight, and I was counting on a crowd myself. But tonight was different. Not only was there a crowd, but it had been raining. And while the rain had stopped, in place of an open-air reception beneath the stars, which would have been perfect, the caterers had set up a big tent. And the area outside the tent was lit up like a moon launch. My idea that in the dark of night I’d be able to maneuver between Sally, a crowd of partygoers, and Chase, was fading quickly.
“This is never going to work.”
“Hold on.” Sheri walked ahead of me, scanning the park for a possible alternative. “How about over there? It’s still part of the party area.”
I followed her gaze beyond the tent and closer to the lighthouse where in the shadows a huge fig tree hugged the cliff.
Without answering, I struck out ahead of her, the cool night air in combination with the sea wind chilling my cheeks. The giant fig’s branches spread several hundred feet, offering a natural shelter. I turned and looked back at the park’s entrance. It was perfect. In fact, better than perfect, beneath the tree was a small picnic table. The type of place a couple who wanted to be alone might sit and gaze out at the water. The type of place I felt certain Sally would come looking for me. But best of all, from beneath the tree, I could see anyone who approached.
I bit my bottom lip and surveyed the area. Holding my hands up in front of my face, I crossed my fingers and stared up at the stars. “This just might work.”