by Joanne Fluke
“Mrs. Charles Atchinson is wearing a George Stavropoulos classic evening gown, with side gathers and spaghetti straps, in a luxurious Crillon Blue satin.”
Mac smiled as Kay appeared by the potted palms for the second time. He was elated now that he had a plan of action. Perhaps it wasn’t right to bother a dying man, but Mac was sure Dr. Elias would understand.
“Her train is of matching chiffon. Diamond earrings and necklace by Van Cleef. This gown is an original, ladies, so hurry to the Oval Room after the show.”
Mac took a sip of coffee and held up his thumb and forefinger in an okay signal as Kay approached his table. She looked lovely.
“I’ll meet you outside the dressing room.” Mac pretended a great interest in the material of the gown. “We’ll leave early, before the rush.”
As soon as the next model appeared on the runway, Mac finished his coffee and hurried toward the exit. The prospect of seeing Dr. Elias again made him feel tremendously relieved. Even though Dr. Elias was dying, he was still a brilliant analyst. Mac was positive that he was the one who could make sense out of this nightmare.
CHAPTER 25
“Yes, I’m fine, dear.” Kay stood outside the dressing room with her right hand over her ear so she could block out the noise. Dayton’s PA system was announcing a giant pre-Christmas sale in the toy department.
Debra and Mac stood behind Kay, blocking her from the customers rushing to the elevators. It seemed everyone in Minneapolis was doing their shopping today. If the storm hit as hard as predicted, this might be the last chance to buy gifts.
Mac gave Debbie’s hand a squeeze. “Have you ever been in Dayton’s toy department at Christmas? They’ve got a wonderful little train ride. Maybe we can borrow somebody’s kid and get in.”
Debra shuddered. She had “borrowed” a baby once. For a second she almost pulled away from Mac, but he was smiling at her guilelessly. She took a deep breath and smiled back. Mac had forgotten all about the kidnapping. He’d never try to hurt her by reminding her of the past.
“I’m leaving here now.” Kay smiled at something Charles said. “I love you, too, honey.”
Mac and Debra watched as Kay ended the call. “Charles wants me to come straight to his office. He says we’ll leave my car in his spot and drive home together.”
“I’ll ride over with you, Kay,” Debra offered. “Mac can follow us with his car.”
“Oh, I’ll be fine once I’m in the car.” Kay smiled at her. “It’s only six blocks from here. I’ll lock the doors and drive straight there. Charles said he’d wait for me in the garage.”
Kay’s Datsun was parked in the VIP section on the sixth floor. Mac opened the door to the parking structure and motioned for them to follow. The fashion show was still in progress and the building was deserted. Cars gleamed in the fluorescent light from the overhead fixtures, but no one was backing in or out.
“Wait right here and I’ll start it for you.”
Mac took Kay’s keys and left them standing by a post several feet away.
Although he had never seen a car blow up in all his years on the force, he remembered what Charles Bronson had done to Jan-Michael Vincent’s car in the final scene from The Mechanic. The attendant in Dayton’s parking structure was in the kiosk on the ground floor. There were several security officers who covered the building, but the killer could have easily slipped past them to sabotage Kay’s car.
Kay’s little Datsun was sandwiched in between a black Mercedes and a new red Chevrolet. She had backed in the space so she could leave quickly. Mac unlocked the door and pulled the hood release. He peered at the engine carefully. Perhaps he was paranoid, but he wouldn’t feel secure until he checked it out. Everything looked normal under the hood.
Mac closed the hood and walked around to the back of the Datsun. He knelt down and checked under the car. Nothing was taped to the tailpipe or undercarriage.
Finally he got into the driver’s seat. He felt around under the dash for extra wires taped to the ignition. Nothing was there. There was no evidence of tampering of any kind.
Mac’s hand was shaking as he put the key in the ignition. He gave it a quick twist and hoped that he hadn’t missed anything.
The Datsun started smoothly. Mac breathed a sigh of relief as the motor turned over and purred. There was nothing wrong. Mac toed the accelerator and let it idle as he got out of the car and motioned to Kay.
“All right, Kay. Go straight to City Hall. And give me a call tonight when you get to your mother’s.”
“Thanks for everything, Mac.” Kay hugged him tightly. “You’ve been wonderful. You, too, Debra. I never could have made it through that fashion show without you.”
There were tears in Kay’s eyes as she kissed Debra on the cheek. She slid into the driver’s seat and buckled her seat belt. Her purse went next to her on the passenger’s seat. Kay patted it and grinned at Mac.
“Don’t worry, Mac. I’ll lock the doors, and if anyone comes near, I’ll shoot them with my purse.”
Kay waved as she put the car into gear and the Datsun moved forward. Mac and Debra watched Kay’s car go around the far corner of the garage, heading for the ramp. Mac looked down at the space where the Datsun had been. There was a puddle of something on the concrete.
He reached down, dipped his finger in the puddle, and sniffed at it. Oil? No. Brake fluid!
Mac whirled and ran. He had to catch Kay before she entered the corkscrew ramp that led down to the ground floor!
“Kay! KAY!”
Mac waved his arms and shouted at the top of his lungs. Kay’s car was almost at the entrance to the ramp. He saw Kay turn around to look at him. She gave him a smile and raised her hand in a wave. Then the Datsun turned sharply to the right and started the downhill spiral.
“Mac! What is it?”
Debra rushed up to his side. She clung to his arm as they stood at the top of the ramp and listened to the sound of the Datsun’s engine.
Kay’s knuckles turned white on the steering wheel as she pulled onto the ramp. She hated these things. The ramp was a silolike structure built on the outside of the building. It spiraled its way down, from the sixth floor to the ground. It was well designed and well built, but she never failed to get a little dizzy when she drove down it.
Charles said the ramp design was a good one. He had proved that it was possible to set the steering wheel in one position at the top of the ramp and not move it until he reached the bottom. Kay had tried, but she’d never managed to find exactly the right position. She always inched forward carefully, pumping her brakes, oversteering and overcorrecting all the way down.
Her tires hummed as she started to descend. Kay knew the grooves in the concrete were there to provide additional traction, but she hated the noise. It sounded like she was going much too fast, even though the speedometer read less than five miles an hour.
Kay jerked the wheel to the left. The curved concrete wall on the right side of the ramp was coming dangerously close to her right front fender. She passed the fifth floor level and touched the brakes.
Nothing happened! Kay pumped her foot on the pedal. It went all the way to the floorboard and nothing happened!
She couldn’t panic now. Kay reached for the emergency brake and pulled the handle back sharply. The car was picking up speed and her brakes were gone!
For a moment she froze in terror. The speedometer was climbing. Ten, twelve, fifteen miles an hour!
She had to hit the wall. It was the only way to slow down. Kay twisted the wheel frantically to the right. The Datsun shuddered as it responded. There was a horrid screech and a violent impact as the Datsun bounced off the curved wall. Then another crash as the car skidded over and bounced into the opposite side. Kay’s head snapped forward and hit the steering wheel hard. The Datsun straightened and picked up speed again. The ramp was too steep. She was going too fast. Nothing would stop her!
The ramp was a blur through her dazed eyes. Everything was growing dark. Kay
reached up and felt her forehead. Wet. Sticky. She was bleeding. The blood dripped down and she blinked to clear her eyes. She had to try again before it was too late.
She had to scrape the wall with the side of the car. A sudden impact would not work. Slowly. Kay forced her hands to twist the wheel slowly. The wall loomed closer, closer . . .
Sparks flew as the Datsun careened off the cement and skidded sideways. For a moment it seemed the car would wedge itself sideways against the walls, but it was too small. The ramp was built for large American cars. Kay’s little Datsun slammed into the opposite wall and bounced back to the center of the ramp.
Kay shut her eyes. There was a screaming noise in her ears. The car shuddered and squealed as it collided with the wall again. A hubcap flew off and clattered against the concrete. The side mirror was gone, sheared off with the force of the impact.
Suddenly Kay remembered Mac waving his arms at her. He had known something was wrong. Mac had been trying to stop her. The killer had struck after all. She was going to die!
How could Charles cope with all the details of running a household? His suit was at the new cleaners on LaSalle. Would Trish remember to tell him? What about James’s referral to accelerated classes? And the school prom. Would Charles let Trish choose a dress that was totally unsuitable? No!
The Datsun fishtailed and slammed into the wall. The force of the impact snapped the steering wheel off and Kay felt the column hammer into her chest. She couldn’t breathe. Her mouth was open. She was screaming. Blood was everywhere, on the windshield, spurting from the wound in her chest. The darkness was closing in and the horrible screech of metal faded to a dull whisper in her ears. It was too late. It was over.
CHAPTER 26
Mac and Debbie rushed through the street-level door from the stairwell to find that a crowd had already formed around the blazing wreck of the Datsun. Two security officers were trying to maintain order.
“Oh, Mac!” Debra took one look at the flames and hid her face against Mac’s chest. There was nothing to say. Kay was dead. They were the only two left.
Mac held Debbie tightly and blinked back his own tears. The Datsun sent up plumes of black smoke, and the security officers herded the crowd back to a safer position. Mac pulled Debbie into the store’s doorway, away from the crowd. Her slim body was shaking with grief.
The IDS Center was directly across the street. Mac stared at it and swallowed hard. Now it was even more important to try to find Dr. Elias. The killer had struck again, even though Mac had done his best to protect Kay.
He didn’t want to leave Debbie for a second, but he couldn’t take her with him to Dr. Elias’s penthouse. He couldn’t be sure of what he’d find. Dr. Elias might be lying dead in one of the rooms. It could be an awfully gruesome sight. Mac would have to find a safe place to stash her while he went to find the doctor.
A fire department truck pulled up outside the garage and men raced to the Datsun with chemical extinguishers. A black and white careened around the corner with its lights flashing and siren wailing. Suddenly Mac realized what it would mean if he were spotted here. Curt would put it all together. He was a top-notch detective. Mac had trained him. If Mac were found at the scene of another murder, Curt would have to pull him in for questioning. There wasn’t enough circumstantial evidence to hold him for long, but valuable time would be lost.
“Inside, Debbie! Quick!”
Mac pulled her into the store and fought his way past the frenzied shoppers to an alcove by the winter scarves and gloves. “Call the paper, honey. Get someone to take your assignment this afternoon.”
Debra blinked and nodded. She felt as if she were living in the middle of a nightmare. People in the store were laughing and Christmas music played over the loudspeakers. Didn’t they know Kay was lying dead less than a block away in Dayton’s garage?
“Go on, Debbie. Make the call.”
Debra knew that Mac was right. She couldn’t possibly cover her assignment at the new housing development.
Mac paced the floor behind her as Debra was connected to the right department. In a moment he heard her talking to someone.
“Oh, no. Well, I . . . I’m not sure. Hold on a second, Jackie. I’ll check.”
Debra turned from the phone and cupped her hand over the receiver. “Jackie’s the only one available and she’s got a babysitting problem.”
“Tell her you’ll babysit.” Mac was firm. “You can’t take that assignment. It’s too dangerous.”
Debra’s face turned white. “I . . . I can’t babysit! You know why. I just can’t!”
“You can do it, Debbie.” Mac folded his arms around her waist. “That’s all in the past. Come on now, honey. Tell Jackie you’ll take care of her baby.”
Debra’s voice shook as she arranged to pick up the baby. All her old fears were back. She had deliberately avoided babies since that night at the hospital. What if something terrible happened? Something that even Mac couldn’t prevent?
Curt unfolded the printout that had just come in from Ma Bell. Mac had made a lot of calls last month. The phone company had listed them by order of frequency as he had asked, along with the names and street addresses of the numbers called.
Dr. Jerry Feldman—dental office. One call on the sixteenth. Feldman had been shot on the night of the seventeenth.
Greg Davenport. The sixteenth and seventeenth. Curt checked his records. Davenport had died in that fire on the eighteenth.
St. Steven’s—rectory. Four calls from the sixteenth to the nineteenth. Father Marx was stabbed on the twentieth.
Nora Stanford. Six calls, the last call on the day she died, the twenty-first.
Mrs. Charles Atchinson—unlisted number. Curt stared at the paper in shock. Mac had called the mayor’s wife a total of seven times in the past week! Why would Mac be calling the mayor’s wife?
An affair? Curt frowned. That seemed highly improbable. Mrs. Atchinson was a really nice lady. He’d met her several times at fund-raisers. She certainly didn’t seem the type to cheat on the mayor. And Mac wouldn’t have an affair with someone else’s wife. There had to be another reason for those seven calls.
“The mayor’s wife is dead!” Bazookas rushed into his office.
“What?” Curt shuddered. “Jesus! What happened?”
“Her car went out of control on Dayton’s ramp. Captain Meyers got the call and hightailed it out of here!”
“Run out to the desk, Carol, and see if you can find out any more.” Curt waved at the door. “And tell Desk Sergeant Reinert that I want to see the captain the minute he gets back.”
Curt winced. He didn’t like the way this was stacking up. Mac was connected with all of them, and now the mayor’s wife was dead! It might be circumstantial, but there was no way he could ignore this. Just as soon as the captain got back, he’d ask for permission to pull Mac in for questioning.
“You can’t leave me all alone!” Debra stared up at Mac in terror.
“I won’t be gone very long, honey. And I can’t take you with me. Not with the baby. I may have to break and enter to get into the penthouse.”
Debra nodded slowly. She knew Mac had to find Dr. Elias. He was their only hope. She glanced down at the sleeping baby and shivered. Mac said she was safe here. He had checked out the entire apartment before he’d allowed her to come in from the hall. Nothing had been touched. The killer had not been there. Everyone expected her to be on assignment at Riverside Estates. Even the paper didn’t know that she’d switched places with Jackie. They were buying time, Mac had explained, sending the killer off in the wrong direction. By the time he discovered Debra was not there, Mac would be back from Dr. Elias’s penthouse.
“I . . . I’ll manage, Mac.” Debra took a deep breath and smiled at him. “I’ve got that number you gave me. I’ll call Curt Holt if you’re not back in an hour.”
Mac bent down and kissed her gently. She was dearer to him than anyone in the world and he had to protect her.
“D
ouble lock the door when I leave. And don’t let anyone in. I’ll call you the minute I get through talking to Dr. Elias.”
Debra kissed him back. She didn’t want him to go. The thought of being alone in her apartment was frightening. Her arms tightened around his neck and she had to force herself to let go so he could leave.
“Please be careful, Mac. I love you so much.”
Debra’s hands trembled as she locked the door behind Mac. She watched from the window as he came out the doorway at the front of the apartment building and walked to his car. What if the killer was waiting somewhere out on the street? Mac was all alone!
He fumbled with the lock on the car door and Debra breathed a sigh of relief as he got it open at last and climbed inside. The Toyota looked small and fragile from her fourth-floor window. It reminded her of a child’s Matchbox car as he pulled out of the parking spot and drove off.
She was alone. Debra stood at the window for a long time, staring at the bare branches of the trees surrounding the old apartment building. The wind whipped up snow and blew it against the pane. The storm was starting. Thank God Mac didn’t have far to go.
The baby made a soft gurgling sound in his sleep and Debra whirled from the window in fright. Then she grinned self-consciously as she walked over to the car bed and peeked inside.
He was still sleeping soundly. Debra’s smile widened as she stared down at him. The baby wiggled a little and one little bootie poked out of the bottom of his blanket. It was amazing that anything could be so small and still so perfect.
She tucked in his blanket again. He sighed, a soft tiny sound, and seemed to smile as he found his mouth with his thumb. He was a beautiful baby.
Debra picked up the car bed very carefully and moved it to the couch, where she could watch him. Something about his innocent, trusting sleep made her feel much less lonely.
At first she had been terrified. She had barely looked at the baby when Jackie had given her the diaper bag and the bottles of formula. She had hoped that he would sleep until Mac got back. Now she found herself wishing he’d wake. It would be fun to give him a bottle and rock him. Perhaps she had cheated herself by avoiding babies all those lonely years.
