by Rick Blechta
Lastly, maybe it was time for a face-to-face talk with Olivia, but could she be counted on even to be coherent?
Sitting in the hotel lobby with her bags next to her, Shannon had a decision to make: which way to jump. She flipped open her cell phone to see if Marvell had gotten in touch. She wasn’t particularly worried about Jackie, but with everything that had been happening, she was getting good and spooked.
The last thing she needed was another screw-up.
***
Kate and I shared a really terrific day, the best one yet.
After we polished off a large pizza with pepperoni and green pepper (a vegetable first for my daughter), we sat talking about school and some of her classmates in Oakville. I’d noticed with some sadness over the past month or so that her local friends had begun fading into the past. This is what happens with kids as they move on with their lives, but I was sorry to see it happening to my own child.
Moving her straw along the bottom, Kate hoovered up the last of the Pepsi from her second can and got up from the table.
“Time to get to work.”
“No, time to clear the table. You know the rules.”
I could tell from her expression that she’d been testing me again. Soon she’d be rolling her eyes at these types of requests, then would come arguments. By seventeen or eighteen, she’d hopefully be normal again. It was something neither Sandra nor I had looked forward to, and now we’d have to face it separately. That thought filled me with trepidation.
After reading my current book for an hour with some Lennie Tristano in the background as accompaniment, I wandered upstairs to see what my offspring was up to.
Kate had moved a work light to the right side of the window on the one unfinished wall. Jars of paint surrounded her, along with old yogurt containers of water to clean her brushes, and in her hand was Olivia’s favourite palette. She had on an old dress shirt I’d given her that hung below her knees.
“How’s it going, pumpkin?”
She turned her paint-streaked face to me. “Hi, Daddy. Do you like what I’m doing?”
“As far as I can tell, it looks great. Olivia will be very pleased.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m doing what she wanted.” She looked down at the floor. “I think I’m going to need more of this ultramarine blue. We should get it before the art supply store closes.”
“You’re a painty mess, Katy. By the time we get you cleaned up, we might not even make it. Why don’t we run the errand tomorrow?”
As she turned back to the wall, I walked over to look at the lines that had been pencilled on the white base coat. Unlike the earlier walls, these sketches were done with smooth confidence. Olivia had become increasingly sure of herself as her project had expanded. Since there wasn’t much room to stand where Kate was painting, I moved to the other side of the window. The rest of the room was so overwhelming that I’d never looked at the sketches on this blank wall. Three minutes later, my hands were shaking as I realized what Olivia had intended. Turning around, I looked at the three finished walls. All the eyes in the room were subtly turned towards this side of the window, seeming to stare at the scene which had yet to be painted.
Though they were only preliminary drawings and would certainly have been more clearly defined as a finished painting, what Olivia had sketched there was completely devastating.
“Kate, I think we should go and get that paint now. The stores might not be open tomorrow.”
She had one brush crossway in her mouth and another in her hand as she turned to me with an exasperated expression.
“Dad...”
“Come on, Kate. Hop in the shower and get cleaned off.”
“Okay, but you’ll have to close up the paints and at least get my brushes into some water.”
She scooted out of the room, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I did not want her to see what was sketched on the left hand side of that wall, but Shannon needed to know about it right away.
***
As her cab sat in a line of traffic on the Grand Central Parkway just short of LaGuardia, Shannon decided to call Roy and give his cage a rattle. He was late getting her the information he’d promised.
“What’s up?” she asked when she got him on the phone.
“It took a little longer than I would have thought to pry the info out of the flyboys in San Diego. I actually had to fly down here. The old telephone intimidation thing didn’t work. I only just walked into the office five minutes ago.”
“I’m sorry this has been such a pain.”
“It’s what I get for shooting my damn mouth off. Never yank the tails of the gods. Anyway, I have the name of your two boys who showed up in Toronto.”
“So give.”
“Dave Haggerty and Rich Colville, and guess what? They aren’t bounty hunters – at least they aren’t registered with anybody as bounty hunters. I’m willing to check around more for you, but it will take time.”
“That would be really helpful, Roy. Thanks. Have you heard from Marvell? I’ve tried him twice so far today and haven’t been able to raise him. It may be that he’s out at Sunnyvale and can’t call. The reception is lousy up in those hills.”
“That’s not good.” Her friend suddenly sounded concerned. “I told Marvell to take our satellite phone with him. He can call from practically anywhere on the planet.”
“Shit. Look, I’m practically at La Guardia. I was going to hop a plane for Florida, but I don’t like this. Something’s happened; I can feel it. I’ll be on the next plane to Reno. I’ll call as soon as I’m booked. Can you meet me there?”
“If Marvell’s in some kind of trouble, you can bet your girl is, too – and that other girl you’re so interested in. Do you want me to call the Plumas County Sheriff?”
“Let’s not panic. Marvell may just be having equipment problems. I wouldn’t want to blow this whole thing for no reason. Call if you hear anything.”
The cab arrived at the airport.
“What airline did you say, lady?” the cabby asked.
“Just drop me here.”
She jumped out of the cab, threw too much money at the cabby and raced inside the building. It took almost two minutes to find a pay phone. The next call was trickier and needed to be made from a New York exchange. Getting out her notebook, Shannon found the number she needed and dialed.
A woman’s voice answered. “St. James residence.”
“Yes, this is Mr. Menotti’s law office. He used to work with Mrs. St. James and would like to have a word with her.”
“I’m very sorry, but she’s not taking calls at the moment.”
“This is a matter of some urgency.”
“I am most happy to take a message.”
“Mr. Menotti will be dropping by this evening with those photos they’d been talking about a few days ago. Is nine o’clock suitable?”
“I’m sorry, but Madam will not be at home this evening.”
“Just a moment, please.” Shannon covered the phone with her hand for a moment. “Mr. Menotti informs me that he is expected this evening.”
“I am sorry, but Madam does not have Mr. Menotti’s visit entered in her agenda.”
“It was probably just an oversight. Would this afternoon be more suitable? This is a rather delicate situation that needs to be resolved with alacrity.”
“Madam was called out of town unexpectedly. She is on her way to the private plane now, and should be returning tomorrow if you’d like to call then.”
“I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
Shannon hung up, wondering what sort of trouble had been stirred up.
***
Even travelling at supersonic speed, the flight to Salt Lake City would have been too slow for Shannon’s liking. When she landed, she had Roy on the phone before she’d even disembarked for the sprint to the connecting flight.
“Talk to me, Roy.”
“Still no word from Marvell. I’m maybe an hour from Portola, two from Reno.”
“I should be landing in Reno right around then.”
“What do you want me to do?”
Should she play it fast and loose, or conservatively?
“There’s a little airport just outside of Portola. Can you think of any way you can find out if Maxine St. James landed there or is scheduled to land there? I’d be willing to bet the ranch she’s headed for Sunnyvale.” Shannon wiped her hand across her face. “If she’s not there yet, you pick me up at Reno. I’m certain they won’t do anything until she gets there.”
“And if she’s already there?”
“Get the Plumas County Sheriff on the line. They’d be our only hope.”
“You got it.”
“The connecting flight for Reno doesn’t take off for forty-five minutes. Call me if you get a chance.”
Roy’s call came at the last possible moment. Shannon was literally taking her seat on the plane.
“I’ll be waiting for you in Reno. Look for me right outside arrivals. I’m driving the Hummer today. It’s black.”
“So is the owner,” she laughed. “I’m sure I won’t be able to miss either of you.”
“Very funny. You may be happy for a dark vehicle before the night is over.”
“I’m happy I’ve got you on my side. Be on time. I’m not going to bother picking up my bag. It’ll be faster.”
***
“So how’d you know this Maxine St. James person was on her way out here and would land in Portola?” Roy asked.
Shannon opened her eyes. The way Roy was driving, dodging trucks and slower vehicles, she really didn’t want to see what was happening.
“It was only a lucky guess. When I phoned her home and the person who answered said she’d been called out of town unexpectedly, I figured she had to be coming here. I couldn’t take the chance it might have been something else. From what I’ve found out the last few days, she could have—”
Muffled as it was by her shoulder bag, Shannon barely heard the ring of her cell phone.
“Talk to me,” she barked as soon as she’d flipped it open.
“Shannon? This is Andy Curran.”
“What is it? I’m kind of pressed for time right now.”
“I discovered something about two hours ago. You know the room upstairs that Olivia was painting?”
“Andy, I’m in California again. We think that Jackie’s cover may have been blown at Sunnyvale. I’m on my way there now to make sure she’s okay. This really isn’t a good time.”
“Just listen to me for a moment, okay?” Curran sounded angry and frustrated.
“Make it quick.”
“Did you look at the pencil sketches on that one blank wall in Olivia’s room?”
“I didn’t realize there was even anything on it.”
“They’re not very noticeable unless you’re right in front of it. I hadn’t looked at that wall, either. The rest of the room is so overwhelming, why look at anything else? Well, I looked at it today. On the left side of the window are three figures. One is crouched down, hiding her face. I’m pretty sure that one is supposed to be Olivia.”
Shannon’s pulse quickened. “And the other two figures?”
“A man and a woman. The woman is standing behind the man, and she’s got what looks like a rock in her hand. She’s bashing the poor guy’s skull in. It’s really gruesome.”
“Jesus!” Shannon said, and Roy looked over at her sharply. “Do you remember any of the photos from the information Jackie culled off the Internet? Does the woman look like anyone whose photo you’ve seen?”
“I don’t think so.”
“How is she dressed?”
“She appears to have pants on. It’s hard to tell because it’s only a rough sketch.”
“Long hair or short?”
“Longish hair. About the length of Sandra’s.”
A thought occurred to Shannon. “It couldn’t be you and your wife in the drawing, could it? I mean that would sort of make sense, given what happened between you.”
Curran was definite. “No. It’s not me. I’m certain of that. Olivia sketched me a few times. Mostly playing drums, but the male figure on the wall is not me. The woman isn’t Sandra, either. Olivia never laid eyes on her.”
“You’ve got Internet access, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Get online and search for photos of Maxine St. James. They shouldn’t be hard to find. She’s involved in a lot of charity work and the like. Just search using her name. Call me back when you’ve compared her with the image on the wall. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“And make it snappy. Once we get up into the hills, the phone reception gets pretty dodgy.”
Shannon quickly sketched out for Roy what Curran had just told her. She also mentioned what she’d uncovered about Taggart apparently sleeping with his student’s stepmom.
“She sounds like some piece of work,” Roy said.
“She’s dangerous. Swiping that journal from me proves she’s willing to play a high-stakes game. Maxine probably never saw it before it was given to me but couldn’t take the chance it didn’t contain something explosive. Some comments about Taggart in the journal are making a lot more sense based on what I just found out in New York. For one, I believe Taggart was also screwing Olivia. I saw a hell of a nude he did of her, and if she doesn’t look post-coital in it, then I don’t know anything about the subject.”
Roy looked at his watch. “St. James should have just landed at Portola, if the info I got was correct.”
“How far are we?”
“We’re going to be about fifteen minutes behind her – if we decide to go in by the front door.”
“That’s the big question, isn’t it?”
Shannon’s cell phone rang. It was Curran, but the reception wasn’t good.
“I’ve looked at...pictures and it...her.”
“You’re fading in and out, Andy. Say that again.”
There was no answer.
“Crap!” she said. “I lost him. Goddamn cell phones!”
“Reach into the back seat. I brought another satellite phone with me,” Roy said.
“Thank the Lord,” she answered as she got up on her knees and turned around.
“You honestly think you’re going to bring this woman to justice with just her half-nuts stepdaughter testifying against her?”
“It’s a wedge, Roy, it’s a wedge. Using it, who knows what else can be pried loose?” She found the phone and resumed her seat, switching it on. “Keep your foot on that accelerator, Roy. We don’t want to get to Sunnyvale too late.”
Chapter 23
Jackie had been trussed up with duct tape and stuffed in one of the big laundry bags housekeeping used at Sunnyvale, but she’d gone down fighting. She’d neutralized the small man with a boot to the groin, and Smith was going to have a nice shiner after two quick jabs to the eye. The big guy, not standing on ceremony, had decked her from behind with a chair, and it was soon over. They hadn’t been gentle after that, but she’d given as good as she’d got.
When they’d eventually dumped her unceremoniously out of the bag, Jackie had still been confident she’d get out of this mess. They’d taken her to the acupuncture treatment room, which was at the very end of the administration building and farthest away from the rest of the camp.
The weasely-looking guy bent over Jackie and grabbed a corner of the duct tape covering her mouth. He ripped it off so violently, she yelped without being able to stop it, and lay there glaring at him, halfexpecting to see her lips clinging to the tape.
He smiled. “Not so tough now, huh?”
“Fuck you.”
Turning her head, she saw a skinny black guy lying on his side in the corner.
She forced her face to remain blank as she realized it must be Marvell. His shaved head had a big, bloody knot on it where somebody had slugged him.. Observing his shallow breathing, she knew he was still part of this world but definitely out of the battl
e. They’d tied Marvell’s hands and feet with his shoelaces. The big man bent over him with the roll of duct tape and proceeded to wrap his arms and legs more securely.
“Who’s he?” she asked belligerently.
The smaller guy laughed at her. “Come off it! We already know you two were working together.”
“I’ve never seen him in my life.”
The little guy shrugged. “Suit yourself. He told us a lot before he ‘fell asleep’. Thought he was tough like you. And now you’re going to tell us everything you know.”
Doc Smith came into the room with an ice bag held against his face. She saw with satisfaction when he adjusted it that his right eye was swollen shut.
“Did you speak to her?” Little Guy asked. “She’s at the airport now, waiting for the pilots to show up, and she is not happy,” Smith answered.
“What about the girl?” “Locked in her room. I gave her another injection, so she’ll be out of it for quite awhile.”
“Do you think that’s wise?”
“Relax. She’ll be fine when the time comes.”
“What should I do with this one?” Big Guy asked as he tossed the tape onto one of the tables.
“Leave him there, Dave,” Little Guy said.“We can deal with him later. Go search this one’s room.”
Smith gave Jackie a not-too-gentle poke in the ribs with his foot. “And her?”
“She’s a real problem. We need to find out how much she knows. This is a lot more serious than when the girl got away the first time.”
Smith took the ice pack off his eye and looked down at Jackie with a sigh. “I don’t suppose it would do any good to ask you to just tell us.”
Jackie decided to give it one last try. “I don’t know what the hell you wackos are talking about. When my friend Kit finds out what—”
A resounding slap across the face from Little Guy shut her down in mid-sentence. “Don’t waste our time,” he snarled. “We already know you’re a plant. We listened to your pleas for help on the radio after we clobbered your friend over there.” Then he smiled, but it wasn’t the kind that warms a person’s heart. “Are you going to answer our questions the nice way – or the not nice way?”
