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The Magician's Daughter

Page 11

by Judith Janeway


  “I met Kroy, you know.”

  Phil grabbed me by the arm and turned me toward her. “You what? When?”

  “In Las Vegas. It’s how I found out where Elizabeth was. He saw me perform. You know how much I look like her. So he wanted to know who I was.”

  “What did you think? Or what did you notice?”

  I thought for a moment. “He has a manner, a style that makes people want to be around him. Like it gives them some special cachet to be part of his entourage. He likes that. He likes that it gives him power over people.”

  “Anything else?”

  “He’s bad news—just like so many guys Elizabeth got involved with, except he has big money and social standing.”

  “What do you mean ‘bad news?’”

  I thought for a few seconds. “Criminal by nature.”

  “Do you think she never intended to help us with our investigation?”

  “I think she used you to get access to Kroy.”

  “What’s your best guess—has she told Kroy that we’re investigating him?”

  “Probably not. That’s her edge. Unless telling him would give her a better edge.” I lifted the binoculars and gazed at Kroy’s house again. Light reflected against the broad expanse of glass. I couldn’t see any part of the interior. “What’s it like inside? All modern steel and glass?”

  “Want to go in and see?”

  I lowered the glasses and turned to look at her. “You mean we just walk up and ring the doorbell? Is that a good idea?”

  Phil looked out at the ocean. “Not we, you.”

  I stared at her. “Why would I do that?”

  “Because we need someone on the inside, someone with your particular experience and talents.”

  “You mean take Elizabeth’s place? Cozy up to Kroy?”

  “No. You’d just be looking for your mom.”

  “Elizabeth,” I corrected her. “And when he says ‘she’s not here,’ and closes the door in my face, then what?”

  “It sounds better to call her mom. Ask him to help you find her. If that doesn’t work, you’ll think of something to get yourself in the door.”

  “You mean lie.”

  “You’d be playing a role. It’s different.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Look, you’re a magician, right? How’s that not like what I’m asking you to do?”

  “Magic is not real life. It’s for fun. And no one gets hurt.” How could Phil think for even one minute that I’d follow in Elizabeth’s footsteps?

  “You wouldn’t have to do anything dangerous. Just notice things. You’re good at that. When does he go out? Where does he go? He might talk about it, want to brag. He’s the type. Who comes to see him? He uses social occasions as a cover to do his deals. We’d put in lots of backups and fail-safes for you. You’d be completely protected, I promise.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t deliver on.”

  Phil winced and lowered her gaze.

  I bit my lip. That had been a low blow. “I know you’d do your best,” I said, “but I’m not the person for this job.”

  “Don’t you care that an FBI agent was killed trying to help you? Don’t you want to see Dwayne brought to justice?”

  “If you think Kroy had a hand in it, then what makes it so safe for me to go marching in there?”

  “Actually, from the information we have, we think someone else hired Dwayne as a way of getting to Kroy. But we won’t know who until we find out who he’s dealing with. And who he’s cutting out of deals.” She looked away for a moment and turned back to face me. “Kroy is into some really bad stuff that I can’t tell you about, and it’s better anyway that you don’t know. You have to take my word for it that lives are at stake, innocent lives. I’m just asking you to use your eyes and ears, that’s all.”

  It seemed like an unanswerable argument. But I couldn’t be the only person who could do this for them. They had to have lots of trained agents who worked undercover who’d be much better at it than I’d be. Besides, if I did this, it meant Elizabeth’s trail would be completely cold by the time I was free to try to find her again.

  “I can’t help you.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “They’re the same in this case. I don’t run cons anymore.”

  “Don’t be so naïve. It’s not a con. It’s a way of tracking down Dwayne.”

  There was no way I could do it, but what else could I say to convince her?

  Phil must have taken my silence as partial agreement. “Look, I’ll set it up that when the job’s done the agency will secure a Social Security card for you, all up-and-up and legal. That’s what you want isn’t it?”

  “No, it isn’t. I want to know who I am, where I was born, what day, what year. My father’s name. That’s what I want. The truth about me. Can you give me that? No, you can’t. And your Social Security card would be a complete lie. Maybe in your world I am naïve, but do you know that I didn’t even know what a lie was until I went to live with Aunt June? In Elizabeth’s world you just say whatever you want to be true for the moment, whatever serves your own interest best. I promised Aunt June that I wouldn’t lie, ever. If I break that promise, I’ll be just like Elizabeth. I’m sorry, I can’t do it.”

  Phil gazed at me for a long minute, then shrugged her shoulders. “Okay.” She turned and headed back toward the car. I followed her slowly. We drove back downtown in silence. I felt rotten. I liked Phil, and I was sorry that her boyfriend had been killed, but it was completely unfair of her to expect me to act against everything I believed in. I tried saying this to myself over and over again, but it didn’t help. I still felt horrible. We drove back downtown in silence. I tried to apologize again, but she just brushed it off.

  I had her drop me off near the loft, but not right at the front door. Probably better if she and the rest of the FBI didn’t know exactly where I was staying. When I rang the bell below the small brass plate that said “i-systems,” a scratchy voice came out of the intercom asking what I wanted.

  “Nancy?” I said. “It’s Valentine.”

  The door buzzed and I pushed it open. I paused by the doorway to the i-systems’ office and a woman who wasn’t Nancy popped her head over the top of a cubicle. “Hi, I’m Becky. Nancy told me you’d be coming in.”

  “Great. Thanks,” I said and headed for the elevator. I could hear the screech and buzz of Mike’s woodworking equipment. Good, I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. I really needed to be by myself and think. I pushed the folding metal gate open, stepped inside, closed the gate hard, the way I learned to do that morning, and pushed the button for the second floor.

  The elevator began its slow progression upwards, but only briefly before it jerked to a sudden halt and the light went out. I froze and felt the dark close in on me like a living thing intent on smothering me. Dizzy and gasping for breath, I leaned on the paneled wall for support, but had to slide to the floor because my legs couldn’t hold me up. Then the pain hit—a sharp and crushing pain in my chest, and I knew I was going to die.

  Chapter Nine

  I must have passed out. When I came to, nothing had changed. Total darkness still pressed on me with a suffocating weight. I was on the floor, slumped against the back wall of the elevator. The pain in my chest had lessened to just barely tolerable pressure. I pulled my knees tight against my chest and buried my face against them, eyes squeezed shut so I couldn’t see the darkness. If I yelled and banged on the wall, would anyone hear me? No point in even thinking about it. I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs to whimper, forget yelling. As soon as the thought of calling for help popped into my head, the pressure in my chest ratcheted up several notches. Don’t think. Don’t think about yelling. Don’t think about the dark. About being stuck here forever. Don’t think about anything—I told myself over and over and squeezed
my eyes even more tightly shut.

  A loud thump reverberated around me. The entire elevator car shuddered. My breath turned off altogether, and blood roared in my ears. The cable was breaking, and the car would fall any second. With me in it.

  “Valentine?” Rico’s voice, but faint and far away. “You okay? Valentine, answer me.”

  Another thump and the same vibration in the floor and wall of the car. One more minute and I’d plummet to my death.

  “Valentine, it’s all right.” Rico, right next to me now. How had he gotten in? “Hey, come on, look at me.” He tried to lift my face from my knees, but I held rigid and didn’t move.

  “Just look at me, please?”

  I gasped for a bit of air. “Can’t,” I whispered. “Dark.”

  “No, it’s not. The light’s on again, and I have a flashlight. Look.”

  I kept my eyes squeezed shut. Didn’t he know he was risking his life? “Get. Out.” The pressure in my chest made it impossible to talk in anything but gasps.

  “That’s why I’m here—to get you out.”

  “You. Stupid. Cable. Break.”

  “The cable’s fine. Dirty, but solid. A circuit blew. That’s why the car stalled. I just have to reset the call button now and get us out of here.”

  I felt him move from my side. The elevator jolted. I hunched into a tighter ball and a sound like a whimper came out of my throat.

  “Everything’s going to be okay,” Rico said. He sat down and wrapped his arms around me. The car jerked, but instead of plunging into freefall, it rose.

  Without lifting my head, I opened my eyes a fraction. He’d told the truth. The light was on. Relief swept over me. I sagged against him, and he pulled me closer as the elevator made its sluggish progress upward. When the elevator lurched to a halt, Rico stood up and helped me to my feet. My legs felt as if they could barely hold my weight. He opened the folding gate, and I staggered past him. “Thanks. I can make it from here.”

  I kept my eyes averted as I headed into the loft.

  “That’s it? Thanks and see you?” He followed me in.

  “Yes, that’s it.” The tremors began, as they always did, in my head and shoulders. I clenched my teeth against them. Why couldn’t he just go away? I’d made enough of a spectacle of myself already.

  “That’s gratitude for you. I risk my life climbing up a rickety fire escape so I could get on the roof and climb down the elevator shaft. Look, I even ruined my favorite shirt.”

  I crossed to the sofa and sat. My legs weren’t going to hold me up any longer. I wrapped my arms around my middle to force my body to keep still and gazed up at him. His face and hands were streaked with dirt. His hideous monkey and coconuts shirt was filthy and ripped along one side. “You’re a m-m-mess.”

  “I think it’s a toss-up which one of us is the bigger mess.” He turned and headed toward the bedroom end of the loft. He came back with a blanket, knelt in front of me and wrapped it around my shoulders. “You’ve got the shakes. Better get you warm. Don’t want you going into shock.”

  “I’ll b-be okay. It g-goes away.”

  He gazed at me for a second, then glanced at his hands. “I’m going to wash up.” He got to his feet. “Be right back.” He disappeared into the bathroom.

  I pulled the blanket closer. The warmth helped slow the shaking. Rico reappeared in a few minutes, face and hands scrubbed, wearing a clean shirt—purple hibiscus on a red background. He sat down next to me on the sofa.

  “Good thing I keep extra shirts here. Since you showed up, I’ve gone through them pretty fast.”

  “I’m really s-s-sorry. I am g-grateful….” I wanted to say more, but couldn’t get the words past my chattering teeth. I felt the pressure of tears behind my eyes. I gritted my teeth and covered my face with my hands. I wouldn’t descend into self-pity now.

  “Hey,” Rico said softly. “I wasn’t being serious.” He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me toward him. I let my head rest against the warm comfort of his chest. “There, that’s better. I’m the one who should be sorry that I didn’t permanently shut down that freaking machinery a long time ago. Mike just gets into his own little world back there.”

  “Mike? What does he have to do with the elevator?”

  “The building’s not wired for the machines in the back. When they’re on, they suck up so much juice that running the elevator trips the circuit breakers.”

  “Then the computers went down too. That’s not good. Are Nancy and Mike mad at me?”

  “Nothing happened to the computers. They’re on a separate circuit. And nobody’s mad. We were just worried as hell because you didn’t answer us.”

  “I didn’t hear you.”

  “You didn’t hear us? We were yelling our heads off.”

  I straightened and lifted my head. It was nice to lean on his shoulder. Too nice.

  “Valentine?” He lifted a hand and stroked my cheek. “What happened in there?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I mumbled, but couldn’t stop myself from tilting my face against his hand.

  “Okay. You don’t have to.” He cradled my chin in the palm of his hand and leaned toward me.

  I could have pulled away. I didn’t want Rico to kiss me. Really I didn’t. But right then in that breath of a moment when he paused, his lips an inch from mine, all I wanted, all I could ever want was for him to kiss me. I waited, nearly holding my breath, as his lips touched mine. Soft, caressing, giving. The prelude, the overture to something longer, deeper and fulfilling.

  “What the hell is going on?” Mike demanded.

  I jerked away and Rico took his hands from my face.

  Mike stood in the doorway. “Becky and I have been waiting downstairs to hear if you survived being trapped in the elevator, but do you come down and tell us you’re okay? No, you’re up here getting ready to dive into the sack. Thanks a lot.”

  Rico stood up. “Watch it, Mike. It’s your fault she got trapped in the first place.”

  “My fault?” Mike said nearly yelling. “She’s the moron who got in the elevator while I was running the lathe.”

  “She didn’t know about the circuit problem, because you didn’t tell her. So who’s the moron now?” Rico said, raising his voice and taking two steps closer to Mike.

  “Stop yelling. Please,” I said. “It was all my fault, and I’m sorry. I caused you both a lot of trouble.”

  Mike had drawn in a breath to continue his tirade. He let it out and gazed at me. “It’s okay. I should have told you about the tricky circuits.”

  “You assumed I knew, that’s all.”

  “Sorry, man, didn’t mean to get into it with you,” Mike said.

  Rico shrugged. “No problem, we were both pretty quick to lay blame. So, hey, what do you have there?” He pointed to a Styrofoam box Mike held in one hand.

  Mike looked at the box as if he’d forgotten he was carrying it. “This? It’s just some takeout for Valentine. In case you’re hungry?” He held it out to me.

  “Thanks, I am,” I lied. “Could you leave it on the counter for me?” I wasn’t ready to get up from the sofa. Everything was out of balance.

  “Sure, sure,” Mike said and put the box on the counter that divided the kitchen from the living room. “Glad you’re okay. I’m going home now before my wife forgets what I look like.” He crossed to the door, turned, and said, “You coming, Rico?”

  Rico gazed at me for a long moment. “You going to be all right?”

  “Yes, of course. I’m perfectly fine now. Thanks again for all your help.” The words came out stilted and formal, but how else could I reestablish the necessary distance between us? That kiss had to be a one-off thing, not to be repeated.

  “It was my pleasure, I assure you.” His words matching mine in formality, but said with a smile that gave the word �
�pleasure” a special emphasis.

  “Rico?” Mike prompted from the doorway.

  Rico didn’t move. “One of us will come and get you tomorrow morning, so you don’t have to ride down by yourself. Or you can call me. You have my number on speed-dial, remember?”

  “Oh, right. Thanks, but I’ll be fine now. Honest.”

  “Good,” he said with a brief nod, turned and headed out the door, Mike on his heels. No sooner had the door closed than it opened again and Rico, minus Mike, strode across the room and sat down next to me. “One more thing. I don’t regret kissing you. I’m not going to apologize for it, but it’s not going to happen again.” His eyes lingered on my mouth for a beat, then he was on his feet and out the door again.

  The loft echoed emptily with the sound of the door closing behind them. I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders. “Good,” I whispered. The last thing I needed was an entanglement with someone like Rico. Even if he took the trouble to climb down an elevator shaft to rescue me. Even if he did have incredibly soft lips and was an amazing kisser. He was trouble. Handsome, sexy-smiling, good-kissing trouble.

  I spent some time sitting on the sofa lecturing myself about Rico. I finally put my head down, too tired to find my way into the bedroom. I might have dozed, or maybe just floated in twilight sleep, but my phone rang and pulled me back to full awake. What did Rico want now?

  I sat up, dug the phone out of my back pocket and answered it before I could give myself the lecture about Rico being trouble. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Valentine?” Not Rico. A woman. “This is Inspector O’Hara. Sorry to be calling so late, but we got a tip on your mother.”­

  I sat upright. “You found her?”

  “We think she’s still in the city, staying in a motel. We’re on our way now. Inspector Lopez would like you to come down here to make the identification. We don’t want to pull in the wrong person.”

  “Sure, of course. Where is it?”

  “It’s the Sand Dune Motel out on the Great Highway, room sixteen. We’d send a squad car for you, but everyone’s busy right now. It’s one of those nights.”

 

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