by Judi McCoy
Sam gritted his teeth. “Just doing a favor for a friend.”
Gruning’s smile was more of a leer. “Your ‘friend’ already called today. Left a message on my voice mail.”
“You spoke to Ms. Engleman?”
He propped a bulging hip on an empty desk. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. “I don’t return calls to civilians who stick their nose in police business.”
“I thought Ms. Engleman was a ‘person of interest’ in the case—unless you’ve dropped that misguided theory.”
“She’s still in the picture. But she isn’t entitled to private information.” He folded his arms, his expression smug. “I didn’t take you for the pussy-whipped type, Ryder. Guess I was wrong.”
Ignoring the rude comment, Sam said, “How about giving me a look at the tox results?”
Gruning’s face flushed. “Can’t. There’s nothing to see.”
“You mean the report came back clean?” Exactly like Ellie and I told you it would, fuckface. “No drugs were involved?”
“That’s right. Now if you’ll excuse me—”
He tried to barge past, but Sam raised a hand. “One more question.”
The detective narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“Have you heard anything more on Thompson Veridot?”
“Who?”
“The victim’s brother,” Sam bit out. “The man who killed Gary Veridot.”
“Not word one about the guy, and nothing on your lamebrained accusation, either. Now, if you’ll excuse me, your two minutes are up.” He pushed by without another word.
Sam swallowed a curse and made to go after him when his shoulder was grabbed from behind. “Easy, big guy. He’s not worth a couple of weeks’ suspension.”
Turning, he saw Vince Fugazzo grinning. “Maybe not, but it would feel damn good if somebody rearranged Gruning’s ugly face.”
“I’m not arguing the idea, just don’t want you to be that somebody. What would I do for a partner if you got suspended?”
“Find a new one.” Sam stuffed his hands in his pockets. Vince was right. Even though it would be a plus to hear that someone had knocked out a few of Gruning’s teeth, his doing it wasn’t worth the downtime. “Just so you know, I finished the mound of paperwork we’ve had kicking around for the past week. Unless we get a call, our weekend is free.”
“Great. Thanks. Just for that, you can come to our place for dinner tomorrow night. Natalie’s family is coming over, and we’re cooking out. She already told me to invite you.”
“Can I bring someone?” Sam asked before thinking.
Vince’s smile stretched from ear to ear. “You? Bring a friend? Besides me, I didn’t think you had any.”
“Har har. With jokes like that you’ll never make it doing stand-up.” Sam frowned. “Forget I asked.”
“Hey, you’re more than welcome to invite the lovely Ms. Engleman. Come to think of it, if you don’t, I’ll tell Nat about her, and maybe your moth—”
Flinching, Sam waved a hand. “All right, all right. We’ll be there.” If Ellie didn’t have a date with that lame lawyer. “What time?”
“Six is good, and come empty-handed. We got it covered.” He headed for their office, and Sam followed. “Ellie can even bring her dog, if it’s good with kids. There’ll be an entire herd at the house, ages six months and up.”
“How many’s a herd?” And what had Ellie said about her dog and kids?
Vince shrugged. “Six, maybe seven. I lost count.”
“Okay, I’ll tell her.” Sam glanced at their desks and pinned a mental medal to his chest. They hadn’t seen their blotter calendars in a month, maybe more. He slapped Vince’s back. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
He strode out of the building, itching to use his phone, then realized Vince had given him a perfect reason to stop by Ellie’s place. If she wasn’t home, he’d visit her pal Vivian. Hadn’t Ellie said they got together on nights when they didn’t have a date?
Either way, he’d find her—wherever she was.
Sam stood in the entryway of Ellie’s apartment complex, hoping the Feldmans or another of the tenants in her building would arrive so he could walk inside on their coattails. When ten minutes passed and no one showed, he accepted the fact that he’d have to do the deed himself, rang Ellie’s outside buzzer, and waited. He’d promised himself on the ride over that he wouldn’t lose his temper if she was sitting home eating her favorite ice cream instead of calling him. When she didn’t answer, he even gave serious thought to getting hold of the McCready woman and asking her to let him in.
He’d only met Vivian twice and hadn’t been impressed either time, but Ellie doted on her. It was possible he’d misjudged the woman, but since he prided himself on his ability to read personalities, he doubted it. Then again, maybe he should give Vivie, as Ellie sometimes called her, another chance.
Checking himself in the door window, he straightened his tie, took a breath, and pressed the button. A second passed; then he heard the scratchy rattle of the speaker.
“Yes?”
“Ms. McCready?”
“Yes.”
“It’s Sam Ryder . . . Ellie’s friend.”
“Detective Ryder?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You rang the wrong buzzer. Ellie’s in 3-A.”
“I know, but she’s not answering. I was hoping you might have some idea where she is.”
“That’s odd. She should be home by now. Did you two have a date?”
The personal question made him remember the reason Ms. McCready’s charms escaped him. Both times they’d met, she’d stuck her nose in Ellie’s business, especially where he was concerned. He still couldn’t figure out if she approved of him or thought he was a jerk.
“Not exactly. I was hoping she’d call me, and she hasn’t. So I came to . . . uh . . .”
“Check on her. She’ll be really happy to hear that.”
Sam nodded at a couple he didn’t recognize coming through the door. If this discussion ever got back to Ellie, she wouldn’t be happy about it, either. “Look, could I come up to talk about this?”
The buzzer sounded, and he pushed through, relieved Vivian let him in. If nothing else, he could hang out in the hall in front of Ellie’s apartment until she arrived. Once on Vivian’s floor, he found the door open and walked inside. When a dog growled, he glanced down and spotted one of the canines Ellie sometimes walked. What was the mutt’s name? Master Bee? Mister Vee? Iced Tea?
“T, quiet now,” said Vivian as she walked out from her kitchen. “Go watch Animal Planet, or I’m turning off the television.”
Good God, now what had he gotten himself into? Yes, Ellie spoke to her dog, but he’d never heard her offer to put on a favorite TV program. The little black, white, and tan pup gave him a last nasty look and left.
“Sorry about that,” said Vivian. “He can be a real stinker when he wants to be.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Can I get you a drink? Soda, beer, something harder?”
“Uh, no, thanks. I just want to go over something you said a few minutes ago. You acted as if Ellie should be home.”
“I thought she’d be back from wherever by now.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, about an hour ago I heard her going down the steps. Since we usually have a dog-walking date, I asked her where she was headed. She mumbled something about an errand, told me she’d see me in a little while, and that was it.”
“Did she have the dog with her?”
“Rudy? No, she didn’t. But she was carrying a huge red duffel bag, and it looked like it was full of bricks.”
Sam’s radar went off with a bang. “Oversized, with a yellow tag on the handle?”
“Yeah, that was it.”
“And no dog?”
“No, which I found odd. Rudy and she go everywhere together, if at all possible.”
“Was she dressed for a date or something special?”
&nbs
p; “Actually, she wore a ratty pair of shorts and a loose tee. And she looked frazzled. But she took off before I could ask any more questions.”
“Do you have a key to her apartment, by any chance?”
Vivian’s mouth opened and closed. “You think maybe something bad happened to her?”
“Won’t know until we investigate. First thing, let’s see if she left any clues, say a phone message or a note with directions, and we can check on the dog.”
“Hang on while I get my keys.”
A moment later, they climbed the stairs, and Viv opened the door. “I’ll go ahead and see if I can find Rudy while you do what you have to do.”
She took off shouting Rudy’s name at rock-concert volume while Sam checked out Ellie’s kitchen, found her tote bag, and searched inside.
“He’s not here,” Vivian said after half a minute. “And that’s really strange. If Ellie wanted him safe, she’d have left him with me instead of a doggie day care, but it wouldn’t matter. It’s past nine, so they’d be closed by now.” She saw the contents of Ellie’s tote, which Sam had spread across the table. “She left her handbag? No woman with a brain would forget theirs. Grabbing her purse is the first thing a woman does when she leaves her home.” She frowned. “And forgetting this tote is something Ellie would never do.”
“Can you tell what might be missing?”
Vivian sifted through the items. “Her cell phone, her keys, and her can of Mace, but that looks like it.”
“Where does she go at night, when she takes the dogs?”
“You’ve been with her. It’s just around the neighborhood. But we usually walk together if it’s a long trip like going to Carl Schurz, and she didn’t mention that tonight.“
Damn. Something was wrong. Seriously wrong. It made no sense for Ellie to be transporting such an enormous amount of cash at this hour of the night. And where was her dog?
Worst-case scenario, Thompson Veridot was involved. But how?
Sam dialed Ellie’s cell, which went directly to voice mail. “Ellie, it’s Sam. I’m here at your place, and Vivian and I are worried. Where are you?” He snapped the phone closed. “Tell you what. I’m going to start canvassing the neighborhood. How about you call her mother and anyone else who might know where she’d be? Call me”—he passed her a card—“if you find her. If I come up empty, I’ll expand the search, call in a missing person’s report, and contact the black-and-whites on patrol. She won’t be hard to spot carrying that huge duffel.”
Before Viv could answer, he was out the door and on the street, cell phone in hand. Scanning the sidewalk, he went to his car and began Ellie’s usual evening route, dialing while he drove. He figured Gruning would be useless, so he didn’t bother asking for the jerk and instead talked to a desk sergeant.
His explanation and serious worry got a positive reaction from the officer on duty. Ellie’s description and a description of the duffel would go out to all the patrol cars and foot soldiers on the Upper East Side. Other than that, there was nothing he could do, even though he knew something bad was taking place.
Something that had to do with Thompson Veridot.
Chapter 22
Ellie turned onto Second Avenue and headed toward Eighty-sixth, where she’d make a right and take a direct route to Carl Schurz Park. Though dusk had fallen, there was still enough light to see moving shadows, scary shapes, and small groups of people as they shuffled home or to Beth Israel North.
A feeling of being watched crept over her, but she refused to act the wimp. If Thompson Veridot was following her, there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. Her only concern was seeing to it that Rudy was ransomed safely. There was no room in her brain for getting creative and cornering Veridot or doing anything stupid to screw things up.
As she shifted the overloaded duffel to her opposite shoulder, she passed the hospital where, as usual, things were jumping. At least, if Veridot shot her, she might be able to make it back here for treatment. If not, she’d tell her fuzzy friend she’d see him in heaven, kiss him good-bye, and trust that Vivian would take good care of him for the rest of his time on earth.
Inhaling a fortifying breath, she stopped at the park entrance to get her bearings. A brisk breeze blew in off the East River and suddenly her mind cleared. What the heck was she doing, talking like things were hopeless? Thinking she’d already lost? The battle hadn’t even started, and she already sounded like a wussy . . . a fool.
A loser.
She was smarter than Thompson Veridot. She could be cagey . . . devious, even, if the need arose. She had no desire to capture him, but she did have a couple of self-defense lessons behind her. If Veridot came near her in any kind of threatening manner, she’d use the Mace, her keys, all the tricks she’d learned at Phil’s gym to her advantage. Forget the money and forget what would happen to Veridot. If he made his escape with the cash, fine. Gary would forgive her for letting it happen. If Veridot ended up in the East River, even better. It was the perfect place for the slimy shark to land.
She just had to keep her cool and stick to her main goal: saving her dog.
Setting her sights on the park’s dog run, she plowed ahead. Veridot’s note hadn’t said exactly where the meeting would take place, but the run made sense. If he’d been following her around town, he knew she came here often. Rudy could be penned in while Veridot grabbed his money, and she could walk inside to collect her boy.
Hoisting the bag higher onto her shoulder, she slapped at her right thigh and checked on her can of Mace and keys. She’d made sure the pockets of her shorts were spacious, with wide openings so she could reach what she needed with a mere slip of her fingers. Slowing to a measured pace, she scanned the area as she kept up her guard and her wits.
When she made it to the dog run entrance she set the bag at her feet and rotated her aching muscles. Then she slid her hand in her pocket and clasped the can of Mace. Prepared, she propped an arm on the fence and waited, still scrutinizing her surroundings.
At the sound of rustling leaves, she stilled, then locked onto a figure shuffling in from the opposite side of the run, carrying a sack in one hand. The man’s other hand appeared to be wrapped in white. As the guy neared, she saw that the odd-looking hand was bandaged from knuckles to wrist.
Raising her gaze, she tried to remain expressionless as she met the person who had called himself Benedict. When he stopped about fifteen feet away from her, his once-friendly face hardened into a frown.
“Ms. Engleman. Long time no see.”
That voice. She knew it was familiar when he’d called about the assistant’s job, but the connection hadn’t registered.
She raised a brow, hoping it would mask the terror twisting her into a knot. “So you’re Gary’s brother. Do I call you Benedict or Veridot from here on out?” she asked. “Or do you want a job as my assistant?”
“No need to get snotty, girly. It’s not my fault you wouldn’t meet me in a more businesslike manner. And my full name is Thompson Benedict Veridot. Grandmother on my mother’s side was Althea Benedict, bitch extraordinaire. The idiots thought they were doin’ me a favor, naming me after Granny.”
The bag jiggled, and he dropped it to the ground, then slammed a foot on the open end. “Oh, no, you don’t, you little bastard.”
“I want my dog,” said Ellie, relieved to see the bag wriggling. “There’ll be no exchange until Rudy is in my arms and I’m positive he’s all right.”
“Your mutt should be outlawed, better yet, put down,” Benedict said, sneering. “Wouldn’t take any of the sleeping pill concoction I offered him in food or the liquid I tried to pour down his gullet.” He raised his bandaged hand. “Did this to me before I could tie him up. This, too.”
He turned in profile, and Ellie saw a long scratch, almost a gash, running the length of his left cheek.
“Bastard almost bit my ear off before I dropped him, then he took a chunk out of my calf. I’m going to the ER for a tetanus shot and stitches first
chance I get.”
“Serves you right for taking him. What did he ever do to you?” Proud of Rudy’s fighting spirit, Ellie was unsure of how to proceed. Did she let Benedict continue talking or was she the one who should take control, demand Rudy be set free, and pass the money?
“He didn’t have to do nothin’ but cooperate. He’s a bargaining chip, is all. Him for the cash. I wasn’t gonna hurt him. Just wanted my dough.”
“About the money—”
“It’s there, ain’t it, in that bag?” He pointed to the duffel. “By my calculation, it should be a couple of million dollars, especially since my brother lived like a homeless bum. He couldn’t have spent it all.”
“Your brother was a bigger man than you will ever be. And for your information, he gave quite a bit of the money to food banks, homeless shelters, and other charities. Gary was kind, gentle, and considerate. He—”
Benedict lifted his good hand. “Stop, please. All this chitchat about the bleeding-heart traitor is killin’ me. Just pass the cash. I’ll take a look and be on my way.”
“I’m not moving until you free my dog and let him come to me. When he does, I’ll back away, and you can have the duffel.”
“What do I look like, the Easter Bunny? First, I check out the money. Then you get your mutt.”
Ellie didn’t like that idea one bit. “How about we meet in the middle? I’ll set the bag at your feet and pick up my dog. I won’t move until you’re satisfied.” That way, she’d have Rudy in her arms, safe and sound. “Then you go where you need to, and I go home.”
Benedict narrowed his eyes. “Sure, okay.” He patted his right pocket. “Just remember I’m packin’. That means you do anything funny and I blow your little pal there away. Then I take you out, too.”
Sam drove slowly, glancing up and down side streets as he zigzagged his way uptown. Ellie knew this area fairly well. It only made sense she’d stick to some place she felt comfortable as a meeting point with Veridot. It was the one small thing that might give her an edge.
His goal was Carl Schurz Park. He wasn’t sure why, but something in his gut told him it was a prime spot for the rendezvous. Ellie had mentioned that she and Vivian thought someone had spied on them in the dog run one night, and she’d probably talked to other people there, too. Though the place emptied out at dusk, there was plenty of ambient light from the traffic on FDR Drive. The park was just far enough off the beaten path to afford privacy and space at the same time.
