“You’re assuming it was Emma Wade?”
“We think so, yes, in hindsight. Especially since she showed up with the gun. We didn’t know it was her at the time.”
“And how exactly do you lose a handgun in the woods, sir?”
Carter and Leonard exchanged looks.
“Gentleman,” the officer continued, “I’m trying to help you.”
“Mr. Lowery’s weapon accidently discharged after we lost the subject—we had been pursuing her when we saw someone lurking around the house from inside. Carter dropped the gun in the snow after it fired and, well, we forgot about it. When we remembered it and went back to the spot to retrieve it, the gun was gone.”
“I assume you have a permit for this weapon, Mr. Lowery?”
Carter said nothing.
“Mr. Lowery?”
“He does not,” Leonard said. “It’s vintage. It was his father’s weapon and he brought it here to Santa Fe from his home in New York City, on a private aircraft.”
The officer exhaled and shook his head. He continued to make notes. “Wonderful. I could arrest you, sir.”
“I’m sorry,” Carter said meekly. “I meant no harm.”
“We’re keeping the gun,” the police officer said. “Go be with your brother, but please don’t leave town. We still have some major shit to figure out. Merry Christmas to us all.”
Brenda couldn’t stop hugging her dogs. Mulder and Scully had been hiding under the bed in her suite when she found them, and quickly escorted them out the back door of the house. Her knees were soaking wet from kneeling down in the snow and mud.
“We’re leaving this place immediately,” she said to Skyler.
“If not sooner.”
“Is the fire out?”
“I think so,” Skyler said. She handed the dogs’ leashes to her friend. “They let me back in to get stuff, so I guess it’s under control. The real damage is to the front of the house. The suites are fine.”
“Let’s pack up our stuff and head to the airport,” Brenda said. “We still have time to save this monumentally cruel Christmas.”
“And what about Georgia? What about the hotel project?”
“Let’s bring Georgia with us. I am certain that the last place she wants to be is here in Santa Fe with Massimo still on the loose. And that hotel and the new restaurant are the least of my worries right now. The twins can figure it out. I’ve had just about all I can take for one year.”
“I hear ya,” Skyler said.
While Brenda went to pack, Skyler found Leonard in the front yard.
“Brenda wants us to high tail it to Las Vegas. She suggested we take Georgia with us.”
“I think that’s a very good idea,” Leonard said as he rubbed his hands together to warm himself. “How long is the drive?”
Skyler crinkled her face. “Drive? Honey, no.”
“I’ve told the local authorities everything I know. They want to talk to Georgia next.”
Georgia appeared with coats. “I found these inside,” she said. “Put them on.”
“Who is this Emma person?” Skyler asked as the lead police officer joined them.
“Her name is Emma Wade. Or so she said. She is a local interior design student who helped me put the house together. She did the Christmas tree, too. She did a lot for me and she had unfettered access to my house, now that I think about it. And she’s the one person I forgot to tell the F.B.I. about after the bombing. She totally slipped my mind.”
“Why would she terrorize you like this?” Leonard asked. “What could possibly be her motive?”
Skyler placed a hand lightly on Georgia’s back. “Could she be some kind of deranged opera fan?”
Leonard had to suppress a chuckle.
“That crossed my mind,” Georgia said. “But I really don’t know. She was odd, but rather sweet…up until today.”
“What exactly did she say to you this morning?” the officer asked.
Georgia squinted her eyes. “She was rambling. Screaming about a car.” She turned to Skyler. “Didn’t she mention a car? I don’t even have a car since I don’t drive anymore.”
“She started screaming about a car accident,” Skyler said. “But that’s when Leonard shot her. Could she have been talking about the accident you had last December in New York? No. That can’t be it.”
“Oh my God,” Georgia said, her eyes widening. “I can’t imagine how she’d know about that or why she’d even care. It must be something else.”
“What accident did you have last year?” the officer asked.
Georgia reluctantly retold the story about how she fell asleep at the wheel and a man died because of her negligence. When she was done, she lowered her head and closed her eyes. “It crushes me every time I think about it.”
The stone-faced officer was taking notes. “What was the man’s name?”
“Michael Dawes. D.A.W.E.S. It was mid-December, last year, on Long Island, New York.”
“Alright, that’s enough for now,” he said.
“Officer,” Leonard said, “Brenda, Skyler, Georgia, and I are planning to leave Santa Fe this afternoon. For Ms. Reece’s safety…”
“…and our sanity,” Brenda interrupted.
The officer shook his head. “A little recap, people. An allegedly mentally unstable young woman broke into this house on Christmas morning with a stolen gun and threatened the ladies. She shot Darby Lowery and shot at Sheriff Little. Sheriff Little shot her. The entire house almost burned to the ground and we still don’t know why any of this happened. And you want to leave town?”
“Yes sir,” Leonard said. “You know that Ms. Reece was abducted last week and found in Arizona. Her kidnapper is still on the loose. Perhaps Emma Wade knows something about that, perhaps not. But we’re not sticking around to find out. I don’t hink you have grounds to hold us. You have all of our cell numbers; you can reach out to us any time you wish.”
Skyler was proudly beaming. Brenda couldn’t mask a grin.
“Fine,” the officer said after a few long seconds. “Where are you going?”
“We’ll tell you when we get there.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
In a partially draped recovery area of Santa Fe General Hospital’s emergency room, Darby Lowery had his eyes closed, but he wasn’t asleep. His brother Sullivan sat next to him scrolling through his social media feed on his smart phone.
“This is both the crappiest and the best Christmas ever,” Darby said quietly.
“I wouldn’t put anything that’s happened today in the best column. What are you talking about? Are these the drugs talking?”
“They didn’t give me any drugs, Sully,” Darby said. “I turned everything down. I can’t risk it. I’ve been addicted to enough crap to know I’d fall right back down that rabbit hole. I was talking about the business.”
“Oh.”
“You guys really shouldn’t have kept it from me.”
“We know that now.”
“But I understand why you did.”
“Thank goodness.”
“Were you afraid I was going to sue my own brothers?”
“It happens,” Sullivan said softly. “And maybe. Alright, yes, we were afraid you might possibly do just that.”
“Well, I’m not going to. Onward and upward. But I want to be involved, Sully.”
“Okay.”
“I want a say so, Sullivan.”
“I said, okay, Darby!”
“I mean it.”
“I believe you. I hear you,” Sullivan said, growing frustrated. “I. Hear. You. Darby.”
Darby opened his eyes and slightly turned his head to look at his brother. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. When can we leave this place? I hate hospitals.”
Darby closed his eyes again. “No one likes hospitals. And I don’t know yet. The bullet didn’t hit anything major, they say. I’m going to recover quickly. I can feel it. They said if it was a fraction of an in
ch higher or to the left, I could have been killed instantly.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I’m not sure if he had anything to do with it, but today is his birthday. I guess someone up there must be looking out for me.”
“That’s something, I guess.”
“You aren’t happy about my Christmas morning miracle?”
“Carter and I would be a lot better off financially if you hadn’t made it,” Sullivan joked.
Darby didn’t react. He kept his eyes closed. “You’re a shit. You shouldn’t talk that way on such a holy day.”
Carter appeared from behind a curtain. “How is our patient doing?”
“I’m fine,” Darby said. “You guys sound exactly the same, ya know that? It’s still so weird to me.”
Carter and Sullivan exchanged eye rolls.
“He must be drugged,” Carter said as he took a seat next to his twin.
“He’s not. He’s just delirious from the pain in his neck.”
“A pain in our collective necks, I’m sure,” Carter said. “When can we leave here? I called and booked us a two-bedroom suite at the Four Seasons. All of our stuff from the house is in the back of my car.” He paused for a few long seconds and then said, “I don’t think we’re going to be getting the security deposit back on that house.”
“I want my own suite,” Darby said, eyes still closed. “And a cheeseburger.”
* * *
Georgia was busily packing suitcases in her massive master bedroom closet while Skyler, Brenda, and Leonard sipped coffee in the kitchen. Mulder and Scully were curled up within a band of sun that was heating the tiled floor.
They’d all returned to Georgia’s house one final time because the opera star insisted that she needed a whole new wardrobe for the Las Vegas New Year’s Eve trip. Leonard agreed on the pitstop, but only after he searched every square inch of the mansion while the girls and dogs waiting in the locked car.
“I called in some pretty big favors to get this jet for us today,” Brenda said. “It’s Christmas, you know. I basically had to agree to cater the owner’s damned birthday party next summer. In Myrtle Beach, of all places.”
“We are well aware of your sacrifices for us,” Skyler said. “And we thank you from the bottom of our hearts. And I will go with you to Myrtle Beach to help. I promise. If I’m not too busy.”
“I don’t thank you from the bottom of my heart,” Leonard said, “but I guess I’m getting a little better at stomaching the idea of flying.”
“You are very strange,” the chef said. “And I’m afraid that you are going to be just a tad more inconvenienced today, Lenny. We need to make one more stop before we go to the airport. If I’m leaving Santa Fe for a while, I need to shore up a few details regarding the restaurant project. The boys are going to meet us at the hotel site. They’re leaving the hospital now.”
“How’s Darby?” Skyler asked.
“He’s going to recover and could be out of the hospital fairly quickly,” Brenda said. “He’s a very lucky young man.”
Leonard got up to refill his coffee cup. “I’d say so. Isn’t modern medicine amazing? Released from the hospital within a dozen hours of being shot in the neck.”
“The bullet apparently missed all the important stuff,” Brenda said as she cringed. “Imagine.”
“We don’t have to,” Skyler said. “We saw it with our own eyes. I believe I’ve seen enough people shot this year, thank you very much.” She looked at her hands. They were still slightly blood stained.
Brenda hoisted her coffee mug. “I’ll toast to that.”
“Why are we drinking coffee?” Skyler asked. “We should be drinking champagne.”
Brenda smiled. “On the plane, dear. On the plane.”
* * *
A few miles away, Massimo sat on the floor of Emma’s living room with a pair of headphones on. While he was mildly concerned about his hostess’s whereabouts—she’d been gone all night—he was consumed with plotting out his next move. At the same time, he was obsessed with listening to the live audio feed. After hours and hours of nothing but the hum of a refrigerator and the heating system fans, he finally heard voices and his heart began to race.
The small microphone was positioned out of sight above and behind the lip of the molding of the highest of Georgia’s kitchen cabinets. It was broadcasting via her wi-fi signal to a relay device that he’d plugged in to the back of her high-speed internet modem, the very modem that he installed for her when she moved in. Massimo knew that Georgia would never touch the box, for she had absolutely no understanding of, or interest in, such things. And because of the modifications, he could tune in to the audio feed from virtually anywhere in the world with a password. He marveled at how easy the components were to obtain online and how simple it was to set up. He did curse himself for not installing a similar system in his Italian home when he suspected his wife was having an affair, but quickly brushed that aside. He had more pressing matters: the people in Georgia’s kitchen were talking about leaving Santa Fe. But first, they were all headed to the hotel.
The deserted, under-construction hotel.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
After Darby was taken away for a few final tests to determine whether he was well enough to be released, the twins escaped from the hospital and made their way downtown to the hotel. Being that it was Christmas Day afternoon, traffic was nonexistent, and they made the trek across town in record time. The snow and ice had almost completely melted away due to the intense desert sunshine and the temperature had soared to a very comfortable 55º. Carter found a parking spot directly in front of the main entrance and the brothers made their way inside.
“It’s colder in here than it is outside,” Sullivan said as he zipped up his jacket.
“I’ll get one of those space heaters,” Carter said as he disappeared into the office behind the front desk. “I’m just happy that we have reliable power now.”
Sullivan ran his hand over the newly installed reception desk. It was impossibly smooth from being polished and sanded dozens of time. He was thrilled with the woodworkers’ finished product and it was absolutely the perfect complement to their vision for the lobby. He looked up at the antler chandeliers hanging above his head and made a mental note that they needed a good dusting before the light bulbs were installed. Sullivan turned around and leaned back against the desk marveling at what they’d created. The space was nearly complete and he expected they’d open the hotel on-time, if not early. Early would be tremendous, he thought to himself, because we can work out all the kinks before the official public launch.
“We have never opened early,” Carter said as he reappeared. It was as if he was reading his brother’s mind, which was actually not uncommon. “Looks like we might have a first on our hands.”
“We’ve had a whole slew of firsts on our hands this month,” Sullivan said. “I think I’d be quite content with a whole lotta normal, every-day kind of stuff on our hands.” He looked at his own hands and noticed that they were still bloodstained despite three good scrubbings. He held his palms out for his brother’s inspection. “Look.”
“I know. Mine, too.” He had to fight a sudden urge to tear up again. “This is not how I expected to spend today.”
“No one could have expected any of this.”
There were a few moments of silence as they each inspected various items in the lobby. Then Sullivan walked over to his brother’s side. “We might not see Georgia for some time after today.”
“And?”
“And we haven’t really determined where these relationships are going.”
Carter’s eyes narrowed. “Do you and I get to decide that? Or does she?”
“Well she doesn’t call all the shots. I mean, what do you want?”
“I’m indifferent, Sully. I like her a lot, but I’m also pretty damned busy, she’s got a lot of baggage, and I seriously doubt she is going to come right back to Santa Fe after Las Vegas anyway. We’
re never in New York long enough to have girlfriends and once she’s back to work, she’s going to be on the road all over the world. What kind of future could we have?”
“That seems defeatist.”
“And if she was your girlfriend, would it be any different? After Santa Fe is up and running, we’re off to Palm Springs. There are no opera companies in Palm Springs that I know about.”
Sullivan sighed.
“You know I’m right.”
“I liked having sex with her.”
“Gross.”
“Really?”
“No,” Carter said. “So did I. But can we table this discussion for the time being, please? She’s leaving on a jet plane today.”
“Alright.” Sullivan shuffled away and busied himself with inspecting a bank of light switches on the north side of the lobby until the front doors opened and Skyler, Brenda, and Georgia entered the hotel.
“Leonard is parking the car,” Skyler said as she peeked Sullivan on the cheek. “How’s Darby?”
“He’s being released this evening.”
Skyler shucked her heavy coat. “It’s simply unbelievable. Shot in the neck in the morning and home in his own bed that same night. Incredible.”
“I guess so,” Sullivan said absently, trying to erase the image in his head of the blood gushing from his younger brother’s neck. “When are you taking off?”
“Presently,” Brenda interjected. “We’re getting the hell out of Dodge.”
“Well, Brenda Braxton,” Carter said as he approached, “you have a new restaurant here in Dodge that needs your attention.”
“I am well aware of that fact, Mr. Lowery,” Brenda said, “and I fully intend to keep my commitments to Franklin-Lowery. But given the circumstances, I’m making an executive decision to skip town for a little while. But rest assured, I’m replacing myself with reinforcements.”
“What exactly does that mean?” Sullivan asked.
“My number two will be here in three days.” That’s when Leonard walked in. His eyes widened.
“What the heck are you talking about?” he asked. “Why are you talking about your number twos?”
The New Mexico Scoundrel Page 27
