Betting on Grace

by Salonen, Debra

  And there was still the question of who was blackmailing Charles? Usually the motive was money, but from the employment records, MaryAnn appeared to be making a decent salary. Why mess with the golden goose?

  He decided to ask her husband. An hour later, he was seated across from Gregor in a small but functional interrogation room. “So, Greg, what’s the deal with MaryAnn and Charles? Anything going on between them you want to get off your chest?”

  Gregor turned a sickly shade of gray. He shook his head and looked up from his hands, which were clasped in front of him as if in prayer. “You mean sexual? No way, man,” he said with feeling. “She hates him. Calls him a pig. A…a…what’s the word for a guy who diddles little kids?”

  “Pedophile?”

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  Nick wasn’t buying it. “We’ve got two women downstairs who have been servicing Chuck for the past month or so. They’re definitely not children.”

  Gregor shrugged. “Maybe he’s changed. That was when he was younger.”

  “Did he do something to MaryAnn?”

  That gave Gregor pause. “No. God, no. It was with his sister.” He had to think a minute to come up with a name. “Amy. She and MaryAnn were friends. In high school.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “She was a crackhead. One night she showed up when MaryAnn was out. I was a little drunk. We…uh…hung out. Talked. She told me what Charlie-boy did to her. It was sick. She wasn’t much older than Gemilla when it happened. He was a grown man.”

  “And you decided to use that information to blackmail Charles,” Nick said.

  Gregor looked confused. “Huh?”

  Nick’s gut told him Gregor wasn’t his man. “Did you and MaryAnn discuss this?”

  Gregor’s expressive face looked utterly appalled. “Are you nuts? She’d have killed me. To tell the truth, I was kind of relieved when Amy died. I know that’s a terrible thing to say, but you can’t trust addicts to keep anything secret.”

  “So, even though MaryAnn knew the truth about Charles and what he did to her friend, she still went to work for him.”

  “We needed the money. And Amy was dead.”

  And being close to Charles could provide a golden opportunity to hurt him when he was the most vulnerable.

  But there was one other suspect to consider. “Did Liz know about Amy’s history?”

  Gregor shrugged. “I don’t think so. She wasn’t around much after Amy got bad. If Amy called anybody, it was MaryAnn.”

  “You gave her money?”

  “Yeah. When we could.” He looked down. “’Cept the last time. We were broke. She was dead a week later.” He shook his head sadly. “MaryAnn was really bummed. Like it was her fault, you know? I tried to tell her it wasn’t. If anybody was to blame, it was Charles.”

  Bingo.

  “So, Greg, how could you work for a guy like that? Knowing what you know about him?”

  He shrugged. “I needed work, man. Gotta feed my kids.” And support your gambling habit? “Grace is the one who told me Charles was setting up a new office. When I went to apply for a job, Chuck said he could use both me and my dad.”

  Poor Grace, Nick thought. Instead of helping her family, she’d set them up to fail. No good deed goes unpunished.

  “So where’s your wife now?”

  Gregor looked up sharply. “I don’t know, man. I’m worried. She wouldn’t just leave the kids at day care without calling me. What if Charles did something to her? She knows a lot about his business.”

  Nick had a hunch that wasn’t the case. Someone knew where his prime suspect was, and he was betting that someone was Grace.

  “IT WAS CRAZY,” Liz said, pacing from one end of the room to the other. “The guy who was breaking down the computer was sort of friendly. He told me the hospital was part of a pretty widespread scam involving cops and everything.”

  “Cops?” Grace choked. “How?”

  “I guess these people called ‘runners’ would give a list of staged or bogus accidents to these cops. The cops would file reports, then the runners would pick up the police report and file a claim. They had people called ‘jump-ins’ who would provide personal information. This is where DesertWay Med. came in. The jump-ins would pretend to be injured and someone in the hospital would order tests, treatments, medicine, follow-up doctor visits—all stuff that never happened.”

  “You weren’t affected? They didn’t ask you to fake a treatment?” Grace asked, her heart in her throat.

  Liz gave her a dark look. “Of course not. I handle mostly geriatric patients and home visits.”

  Grace let out a sigh. “Thank God. One less Rom to worry about.”

  She told her sister everything—except for Charles’s claim that he’d killed their father. That was something she had to talk over with all her sisters before sharing with Yetta.

  “So Nikolai is out there arresting people even as we speak?” she asked. “I didn’t see him at DesertWay.”

  “I assume he was confronting Charles, but who knows?”

  The phone rang. Grace bounced to her feet but stopped short of answering it. Her mother picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

  She listened for several very long seconds then said, “I understand. Thank you for calling.” She hung up.

  “That was Zeke. The man I was supposed to meet for lunch,” she added for Liz’s benefit. “He’s Nikolai’s superior.”

  “You’re dating a cop?”

  “Don’t be silly. It wasn’t a date. We were meeting to discuss what was happening between his officer and my daughter.”

  Liz looked at Grace, who felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “What did he say?” she asked.

  “Gregor and Claude have been arrested.”

  “Arrested?” Grace sputtered. “On what charges?”

  “I didn’t ask. After listening to Elizabeth, I have to assume they were both involved to some degree with this jumping runners thing.”

  Grace studied her mother closely. Yetta was sharp, despite being upset. Even finding out her brother-in-law and nephew were in police custody, didn’t seem to faze her. “What do you want us to do?” Liz asked.

  “Grace, find me the number of the lawyer Katherine went to see the other day. She seemed quite taken with him. I’m sure he’ll be able to help us.” She stood up. “Elizabeth, I’d like you to drive me downtown.”

  “You bet,” Liz said. “I want to see if I can find out if the hospital is closing or what. No work, no income, right?”

  Grace called Romantique. She filled Kate in and got the number her mother wanted. She also asked her sister to call in their backup hostess to cover lunch. Grace was in no condition to play the role of gracious business owner.

  What she really needed was someone to talk to, so she changed clothes and packed a few things in the car, then drove to the cemetery. She hadn’t visited her father’s grave since the first day Nikolai arrived in town. Considering all that had happened, it was time to bring Ernst up-to-date.

  She spread a blanket on the ground in front of his headstone and piled three squishy couch pillows on top of each other. With legs crossed under her, she sat down and closed her eyes.

  “I’m meditating, Dad. Liz said it helps quiet the mind. My head is ready to pop off my neck and roll into the desert.”

  A faint puff of wind made her wish she’d added a sweater atop her sleeveless blouse. Her feet and shins were bare, too, but they were protected by the blanket.

  She tried to quiet the voices in her head, but thoughts from the morning slipped past her defenses. MaryAnn’s inexplicable antipathy toward Charles. Yetta’s amazing confession that she’d asked the police for help. Nikolai’s identity as a gaujo policeman. Then Liz’s news.

  The slow, meditative breathing she’d been trying to achieve turned choppy and shallow. Other questions flooded her mind. What would happen to Charles? What would Charles do when he learned Nikolai was an undercover cop? Would he hold Grac
e and her family responsible? Reveal her father’s secret as payback?

  She opened her eyes and stared at the headstone, her gaze drawn to the bright silver dollar winking in the dappled sunlight. Why, Daddy? Why’d you do it? Was it just about the money?

  No answer came to her. She listened hard, but the only sound came from a blackbird pecking at the ground a few feet away. Its iridescent, blue-black feathers reminded her of her father’s hair when he was younger. He’d tame the thick dark waves with a grooming product that came in a tube. She could picture him combing his hair with a small comb he kept in his hip pocket with his wallet. A wallet that always bulged with dollar bills: tens, twenties, hundreds.

  Money had been important to her father, but surely not more important than family. “You take care of your family and your family will take care of you,” he’d always said.

  She’d never doubted that maxim until she started dating Shawn, who’d grown resentful when she’d tried to pull him into the Radonovic fold.

  “That’s your life, Grace, not mine. I have a family. Why would anybody want more than one?” he’d told her.

  And she’d done the same with Nikolai, hadn’t she? Only with him, she’d assumed that since he was part Romani he’d jump at the chance to immerse himself in her world. Her crazy, mixed-up world.

  “Who in their right mind would take on this kind of mess?” she muttered, shaking her head, frustrated that her thoughts had focused on Nikolai when they should be on the more practical concerns facing her family.

  Instead of throwing herself into the fray, trying to help, she was hiding out fretting over Nikolai—the mostly gaujo cop who wouldn’t think twice about arresting the Romani he’d recently befriended.

  Is that what he’s doing right now? she wondered.

  She closed her eyes and tried to picture him. No image came to mind. Unnerved, she tried again, focusing intently. Suddenly, the sound of the wind disappeared. A chilly mist crept across the blank screen in her head. A moment later chaos erupted, as if someone had suddenly turned on a radio. She couldn’t make out the muffled voices, but instinct told her people were arguing. Suddenly, the sound of turbulence was clipped by a thundering crack that made Grace cover her ears. A gunshot? she wondered.

  Grace squinted at the foggy haze in her mind, picking out shapes that moved and swelled. MaryAnn came into focus. Her arm was outstretched as if she were pointing her finger accusingly. No, not a finger. A gun. She was aiming a gun at Nikolai.

  “Stop,” Grace cried. “He’s not to blame for this. I am.”

  They both looked at her. MaryAnn’s eyes were glassy and blank. Nick’s were filled with concern.

  He cares, she thought. But a moment later, the gun sounded a second time. The gray mist turned red. The color of blood.

  She opened her eyes, surprised to find her cheeks wet with tears. Her whole body was shaking. A vision or her imagination? Which was it?

  Her mother would know. Grace started to get up, but the loud thump of a car door startled her. Off balance, she fell onto her elbow and let out a small whimper. Enough to catch the attention of the man storming her way.

  Nikolai. Grace barely registered the fierce look on his face. Her only thought as she jumped to her feet was, You’re alive.

  She must have cried those words aloud because he stopped abruptly and gave her a questioning look. She raced to him and hugged him fiercely. “Thank God you’re okay.”

  Nick pushed her back then yanked off his sunglasses. The piercing intensity she read in his eyes made her flinch. “What the hell are you talking about?” he growled.

  “I had a vision. MaryAnn shot you. I saw blood.”

  He made a disparaging sound. “MaryAnn has disappeared, Grace. Your mother said you were the last person to talk to her. Where is she? What did you tell her?”

  Grace couldn’t feel her fingers. “N…nothing. I don’t know. Why are you being so hostile? My God, if anyone should be mad, it’s me. You lied to me about who you are, and you have the audacity to give me grief about my cousin’s wife’s whereabouts? What’s the big deal? She’s only a secretary.”

  He snorted. “Nice try, princess. But she’s much more than that. She’s the key to keeping Charles in jail. We also suspect that she was blackmailing Charles.”

  “MaryAnn? Don’t be ridiculous. She’s—”

  “Romani?” His tone dripped of contempt. “In this case, that defense won’t fly. She’s in this up to her eyeballs, just like her husband and father-in-law. And if I find out you aided and abetted in any way…”

  Grace looked away. She didn’t need to hear the rest of his threat. The worst he could do to her had already been done. He’d chosen sides. Nikolai Sarna was gone. He’d never really existed. The person gripping her arms as if she might attack him was Nick Lightner. Gaujo cop. Not a man she could ever love.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  NICK KNEW what she was going to say. He could read it in her face. She’d done something to warn MaryAnn. He didn’t know what—Yetta had insisted she hadn’t told Grace about his real purpose for being here until after Grace had talked to her cousin’s wife. But Grace looked guilty. And resigned. As if she knew their relationship was over.

  Which it had to be, right? She’d made it clear how she felt about cops.

  “I told MaryAnn that Charles was pressuring me into giving him the money in my trust. That he’d made threats against my family. I didn’t think she’d want to work for that kind of person.”

  “What did she say?”

  “That she knew he was a bad man, but she needed the job. She said she was a glorified paper pusher. That’s all.”

  “She lied. I have handwritten notes incriminating her. Plus, the statements of her own husband and father-in-law.”

  “Claude and Gregor turned against her?”

  The how-could-you? look in her eyes made him want to punch something. Or someone. Preferably Charles. “They’re trying to help us find her because they’re worried that Charles will get to her first. Chuck has always been the big fish, but he’s clever. He knows that the only way we can make these charges stick is if we have MaryAnn to tell us where the bodies are buried, so to speak.”

  She swayed slightly as if her knees might give out. He softened his tone as he added, “Things are under control at the moment. Alex is going to keep Gregor’s kids until your mother can arrange bail. Kate’s lawyer showed up. He’ll represent Claude and Gregor, and MaryAnn when we find her. Liz is helping Zeke process the foreign prostitutes.”

  “The women I met in Charles’s apartment?”

  He nodded.

  “So there’s nothing for me to do?” she asked in a little-girl voice.

  “You can tell me where MaryAnn is.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then give me the names of her friends. Family. Anyone she’d turn to for help.”

  “Did you check at the ranch?”

  “Yes. She’s not there,” Nick said, looking around. He’d been so caught up in finding Grace that he hadn’t noticed the headstone bracketed by two rosebushes. So this was where the patriarch of the Romani was buried.

  The grass was just starting to turn green. Trees were budding. A sanctuary of several acres squeezed between some warehouses and the highway. Except for a smattering of shrubs, some neatly trimmed, some overgrown, the only ornamentation Nick could see was a number of artificially bright plastic flower arrangements.

  “Listen, Nikolai…I mean, Nick. I’m sorry. I can’t tell you where she is because I don’t know, but even if I did, she’s family. And—” Her shoulders rose and fell in a gesture he’d seen many times.

  “And family trumps everything, right? The law comes second. Personal responsibility is a distant third. You can overlook breaking the law because she’s married to your cousin.”

  Her dark eyes flashed with emotion. “I don’t know where she is.”

  “Oh, come on, Grace. I overheard your sisters talking before I came looking for y
ou. You’re heir apparent to your mother’s powers. Didn’t you just say you’d had a vision? Something about me getting shot?”

  “I saw MaryAnn. With a gun.”

  “Well, there were no guns drawn during the raid, so maybe what you saw is something that’s going to take place in the future.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her to sit down beside him on one of the pillows. “Try again. Give me some kind of clue. Is it MaryAnn in the conservatory with a lead pipe?”

  Her cheeks turned as red as the silk binding on the blanket. “Why are you being so mean?”

  “Because I’m pissed off. I can’t leave town until this case is wrapped up. Now, I’ve got a fugitive. An armed fugitive according to your vision.”

  Her eyes went wide with distress. “You’re making her sound dangerous. This is MaryAnn we’re talking about.”

  “You’re the one who said you saw a gun.”

  “I thought I did. I heard a sound and I…I…” She blinked back tears. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Nick flopped to his side and stretched out. “Grace, she’s your cousin’s wife. If I post an APB, someone else might find her first. Charles’s goons are looking for her, too, you know. If he hired one hit man, you can be sure he’ll hire another if it serves his purpose. If you want to keep her safe, go into another trance and find out where she’s hiding.”

  She threw out her hands. “It doesn’t work that way.”

  “Selective sight?”

  “I…I don’t know. It comes and goes. I don’t have any control over it.”

  “How do you know if you don’t try?”

  She swallowed and looked down. “You don’t believe in visions so why are you baiting me?”

  He sat up sharply. “This isn’t about what I believe. MaryAnn is a fugitive. People on the run make impulsive decisions. They get hurt. If you really care about your cousin and his family, you’ll help me find her before something bad happens.”

  Grace knew she was being played. This wasn’t the man she’d fallen in love with. This was the stranger who’d stepped off the plane with the squint of a hit man.