by Rick Blechta
Maxine’s eyes narrowed. “That is very encouraging news indeed. It would be wonderful to be able to welcome her back home – if what you say is actually the case.” It was abundantly obvious from her gestures and tiny changes in her expression and voice that the last thing this woman wanted was to welcome her stepdaughter home.
It was at that point that Shannon’s thoughts on where this case was leading took a dramatic turn. “Does the name Margaret Springfield ring any bells?”
Maxine’s look of puzzlement was nearly convincing, but a slight change in her eyes gave her away. “I can’t say that it does.”
“She was also at Sunnyvale. Margaret was the woman who helped Olivia escape.”
Bingo! Shannon thought. That was a bit of information you didn’t know I had.
Shannon had to hand it to her. This woman was darned slick, but that last volley of information had definitely caught her off guard.
Maxine got to her feet. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I have several appointments this afternoon. Based on what you’ve told me, I will certainly be following up with Sunnyvale.”
Shannon rudely stayed put. “I’d like to know when you were aware that Olivia had checked out of Sunnyvale.”
“Well, frankly, this is a bone of contention. Naturally, they don’t want it widely known that a patient had, ah, left. They neglected to inform me for nearly two weeks. I’ve taken the situation up with their directors, and we have yet to reach a settlement.”
Her parting salvo fired, Shannon also rose. “Thank you so much for a lovely meal – and the information.”
As they walked down the main hall, Maxine said,“We are a quiet family, Shannon – may I call you Shannon? – and we value our privacy. I will certainly act on what you’ve told me. Please let us handle things from here. I appreciate your concern for poor Olivia, but it’s really best that way.”
The butler helped Shannon on with her jacket and handed back her bag and the laptop case. With one on each shoulder, she ventured out onto the street.
“The least they could have done was call me a cab,” she grumbled.
Walking towards Park Avenue where she had her best chance of flagging one, she looked up at the trees, already showing quite a bit of leaf compared with Toronto.
At Lexington, she was about to cross when someone pushed her very hard in the centre of her back, causing her to crash painfully forward onto her knees. Her addled wits registered that the strap of her shoulder bag was being sliced by a knife, then the thief was off.
Gathering her wits, Shannon managed to yell out, “Stop! Thief!”
Not very original, but it did get action. A man partway up the block had seen the whole thing, and as the thief ran by, he calmly stuck out his foot and sent the bastard sprawling. Shannon’s bag spilled open from the force of the impact, spewing its contents all over the sidewalk. By this time, she was struggling to her feet and registered that the thief had grabbed something. He was off like a flash, disappearing around the next corner.
Shannon made her way stiffly to the man who was bent over, picking up her belongings.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Don’t mention it. I was mugged about a month ago, and I sure wish someone had bothered to do what I did. You wouldn’t believe what I had to go through getting all my ID changed.”
Fortunately her wallet was intact, not that she wasn’t experienced enough to stow the really important things in different places, but the wallet had all her money in it, except for the one hundred dollar bill folded inside her passport in the money belt around her waist.
“I’m afraid the guy took your agenda.”
“My agenda?” Shannon asked, puzzled, then realized he was talking about Olivia’s journal. “Well, that’s a piss-off.”
“You should do like me,” he answered, tapping the side of his head. “I keep it all up here. Can’t steal that, now, can they?”
The knees of her suit pants were ruined, and there was also some blood. Her Sir Galahad insisted on flagging a taxi for her, leaving her sitting on a nearby doorstep.
So Mrs. Blonde and Beautiful wants to play rough? she smiled grimly. This time she may find she’s bitten off more than she can chew!
If she’d had someone to wager with, Shannon would have put her hundred down on what she’d find when she got to the rental car parked near the railroad station in Mamaroneck.
One of the rear windows had been smashed in, and the package of photocopies she’d placed on the seat was gone. Her reaction might have astounded an onlooker; she merely shrugged, got in the car and drove off. First stop was the photocopying place she’d visited that morning.
“Do you have those other copies I left with you?”
“Sure thing, ma’am,” the kid behind the counter said, “although why you didn’t take them is beyond me.”
“Just call it a little insurance policy that paid off big,” Shannon said over her shoulder as she went out the door.
Back in the car, she rang her office. “I may return tomorrow morning, or I may take a run down to Florida. Could you check on flights? I’d prefer to fly out of the same airport, if possible.”
“Sure thing,” Janet replied.
“Has Jackie checked in?”
“Only the call when she landed in Reno.”
“When she does bother to call, tell her I want to talk with her right away. She’s got to keep in touch better. Tell her that, too.”
“How are you doing down in the Big Apple?”
“Let’s just say I’ve had a very interesting day.”
Shannon next called Ellen Stein, leaving a message. “Hi. It’s Shannon O’Brien. You mentioned to me the other day that you knew of a former colleague of Maxine St. James who might be willing to speak to me about her. Could you set something up?”
She decided to find a different hotel that night, something nearer the airport in White Plains so she could get out easily in the morning. Also, it was now obvious that someone was around keeping pretty close tabs on her movements. She’d feel better if they didn’t know where she was, considering the strangled woman back in Toronto. She also took the time to pick up some replacement slacks for the ones that had been ruined. White Plains had some nice shopping.
Maxine St. James had played a pretty ballsy game with her that day, Shannon reflected, as she cleaned up the scrapes on her knees. She knew the investigator wouldn’t go to the police. People get mugged all the time in New York. Cars get broken into in parking lots with the same frequency. Nothing could be proven against old Max, even if the perps were caught. There was also a message being sent: don’t mess with me; I play to win.
“Well, I do too,” Shannon said to the hotel bathroom mirror, “and now you’ve got me angry.”
Wanting to get started reading the photocopies of Olivia’s journal, she ordered a burger and fries from room service. Her health-conscious daughter would have been appalled, but the meal tasted damn good.
Janet called back near six o’clock to say that she’d found flights to Toronto and Tampa. “You have until nine tonight to confirm one or the other. I’ve emailed all the details.”
“Got it already, Janet. Thanks. Any word from California?”
“Not a peep. I’ve been trying her cell every fifteen minutes. Do you think she’s okay?”
“She’d better be, or she’s fired,” Shannon shot back with a bit of gallows humour.
Fifteen minutes later, Ellen Stein called.“I spoke to my guy. He’ll talk to you. Phone okay?”
“Sure. I got the side window of my rental smashed in today, and I really don’t feel like driving anywhere.”
“That sounds interesting. In regards to your little project?”
“Yes.”
“Care to tell me about it?”
“Not just yet, but soon. Okay?”
“I’m trusting you, Shannon O’Brien. Don’t shut me out of this story.”
“Oh, believe me, I’m positive you and I can work something
out. I owe a few people a bit of payback.”
Shannon got the phone number with instructions to call after nine.
Pulling over the sheaf of photocopies again, pen in her mouth, she began numbering, reading and sorting. One thing had become clear early on: the book was not chronological, but if there was a method to the sequencing of the entries, she couldn’t see it.
The spelling and punctuation were atrocious, proof that Olivia had not excelled in her schooling. The handwriting was big and loopy throughout, very much like a little girl. One early entry could be pegged to when Olivia was fifteen, and if one were to assume that there were entries up to when she was twenty-one, the handwriting would have changed, become more streamlined as the girl changed to a woman. If anything, it had become bigger and loopier.
Some of the entries describing her stepmother were quite interesting. The girl’s hatred leapt off the pages, visceral and raw but juvenile. Reading between the lines, Shannon could see that Olivia blamed Maxine for increasing the distance between father and daughter. She wrote several times about “not feeling like his little girl any more”. If what Shannon was now thinking turned out to be true, Maxine’s plans had been well-laid and executed.
Shortly after eight, her cell buzzed again, bouncing all over the night table next to her. Expecting a call from Michael, she grabbed it fast and flipped it open.
“Hello, lover. About time you called.”
The phone at the other end was silent for a moment. “You sound like you could use a cold shower.”
A blush crept from Shannon’s face right down her body when she realized the caller was Jackie.
“Uh, sorry. I thought you were someone else.”
“Obviously.”
“How come it’s taken you so long to check in?” Shannon demanded more forcefully than needed because of her embarrassment.
“There are extenuating circumstances. Things happened fast this afternoon, and once I got into the hills, I couldn’t get a decent signal on my cell.”
“You’ll have to do better than that, Jackie. You’re out there on your lonesome, and if I don’t know where you are and what you’re doing, I can’t send anyone to help if you get into trouble. You’ve got to make it your business to keep me in the loop.”
She had another reason for saying this. Shannon did not want her loose cannon doing any improvising – especially this far from home.
***
Jackie had been on a real high. Always one who liked to walk the edge, she felt energized and positive about what she’d accomplished that day.
Her boss’s admonition about keeping in touch brought her down in a big hurry. Shannon was right, of course, but Jackie couldn’t help feeling as if someone had sucked half the air out of her balloon.
She made up a quick excuse, but it didn’t make the situation any better. Shannon obviously sensed the lameness in it. “So what did you come up with?” she asked.
Jackie had made a few notes before calling and gave a concise report to her boss, hoping it would make up for her communication gaffe.
“So you might have seen Olivia?”
“They were doing exercises outdoors, like some freaking gym class. Even with binoculars it was hard to see people clearly from that distance. I’m fairly sure I saw Olivia, but I wouldn’t be prepared to swear to it in court.”
“I’ve looked thoroughly at their website. I find it disquieting she was sent to a place like Sunnyvale. I also wonder how many other people have been stuck there as long as she has,” Shannon commented.
“The people in town have a hands-off attitude towards the place. I couldn’t get many to talk about it. What I saw out in that valley today could certainly be mistaken for a jail.” Jackie took a swig of the cold beer she’d bought at the store down the road. It rolled down her throat quite nicely. “What’ve you found out?”
“I may have stirred up the hornet’s nest. I actually got invited to lunch at chez St. James today. The stepmother is a formidable woman.”
Jackie then got a pretty amazing story about Shannon’s luck in getting her hands on the journal and her bad luck in losing it.
“As evidence, it might not amount to much, since I haven’t read anything that directly incriminates Maxine, and it could always be fobbed off as the ravings of a lunatic. There’s enough evidence of that. Since Maxine moved so fast to get her hands on what she thinks are all the copies of the journal, it’s best to let her believe she’s beaten me. It may lead her to underestimate us in the future.”
“It sounds like you’ve come over to my way of thinking about this.”
“Let’s say more than halfway. She came right out and told me that she orchestrated Olivia’s commitment to Sunnyvale. Reading between the lines, she’s more than happy to have Olivia stay there. We need to find out why.”
“That could prove difficult.”
“I’m well aware of that. As I said, she’s a formidable woman.”
“Okay, I’ve scoped out the opposition. What do you want me to do next? Do I stay out here? Come home?”
Shannon thought for a moment. “I’m worried Maxine may try something out there. If she has pulled a fast one with her stepdaughter, she could try to solve her problem once and for all.”
“Why didn’t she try it sooner, then? Like in Toronto, for instance.”
“If they’d found her still panhandling, that might have been the case. Things got more complicated when she took up with Andy Curran and the trio. Maxine St. James is a lawyer, and a good one from what I gather. She’d know that taking Olivia out would have been very risky.”
“Well, she’ll expect us to move against her legally, probably through Andy. He would have cause to try to prove that Olivia isn’t as nuts as Maxine’s shrinks say.”
“That would take far too long – and remember, there’s a big border in the way.”
“Could one of the people you’ve interviewed down there help?”
“The only likely one for that would be Darcy Jeffries. The retired butler proved what side he’s on. We still have the problem of time – and expense. This would cost a bundle.” Jackie decided to go for broke. “So you’re worried about Olivia?”
“Concerned is a better word – until we have more facts.”
“You need to get someone on the inside.”
Shannon saw exactly what her new employee was suggesting. “I’m going to have to give this some thought, Jackie. It could be dangerous.”
“Dangerous? How? I go in posing as someone with a drug problem. You could pull me out anytime.”
“I’m going to have to think this over,” Shannon repeated.
“So what do I do tonight?”
Her boss’s reply had a smile in it. “Take the night off after a good day at work. I’ll call in the morning at eight o’clock your time. By the way, that was an example of how to communicate. Just thought I should point it out in case you weren’t noticing.”
Her boss clicked off, and Jackie flopped back on her bed. She hadn’t gotten an immediate no to her idea, and that was something.
She got dressed in her other pair of jeans but with a cropped T-shirt this time. She’d be damned if she was going to spend the evening with her feet on the bed watching lame-ass TV shows.
No, she was going out to do a little prospecting. In Reno.
Chapter 15
I realized my stomach would probably hate me in a few hours, but the cheeseburger was tasting awfully good, and by the way the two “ladies” with me were scarfing down their food, they felt the same. If you want a great burger after three in the morning in Toronto, go to Fran’s at College and Yonge.
Having decided that the Sal was not the place to talk about the subject they’d brought up, we’d driven around the downtown streets for the previous two hours. Taking a cue from Shannon O’Brien, I’d just let them talk. It had been very enlightening. They didn’t stay on topic very well, but even the digressions had been eye-opening. I now knew far more than I ever want
ed to about what it was like making your living on your back.
Shelley, the redhead, appeared to be the instigator of their little excursion and took the lead once we were in my car.
“Did you know Maggie well?” she asked.
“No. And quite frankly, I don’t think she liked me very much.”
The blonde, Donna, piped up from the backseat. “That’s what she said. Called you a dickhead for talking her mousey friend into singing with your group.”
“How do you two know Maggie?”
Shelley spoke. “Once you been in the business, it isn’t hard to find out where us working girls hang. It’s always a good idea when you’re new in town to find out the lay of the land before you put out your shingle. Take for instance the fact that prostitution ain’t illegal in this province. Streetwalkin’ is, though.”
“We hang in some of the better hotel bars,” Donna added.
“What did Maggie do?”
“She worked out of her place, mostly. Occasionally did some outcalls.”
I must have looked confused, because Donna said, “Don’t you know nothin’ about hooking?”
“Consider me an empty page.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Oh, I get it! That’s cute.”
Next to me, Shelley rolled her eyes. “Know those adult ads the free weekly papers in town run? They’re for girls who work like Maggie. Personally, I think she was spooked out of working in public. Probably had a bad experience.”
“Maybe she wanted to stay out of the way of the cops,” I said. “Did she ever say anything to you about being on the run?”
“Not in so many words. But then there was that oddball girl with her.”
Playing along, I said, “Yeah, I can’t figure out how she fits into all this.”
“Me neither,” chimed in Donna. “She was a strange one.”
“She didn’t turn tricks, too, did she?”
I couldn’t afford to look right at Shelley, but I could hear the sneer in her answer. “Nah. She was a goody two-shoes. I don’t think she’d ever even had sex. Maggie told me a couple of times when she had a john over and the girl was there, she actually hid in a closet! But I don’t think Maggie woulda been too happy if she’d started turning tricks. She was awfully protective of her.”
