Bookshots Thriller Omnibus

by James Patterson

  Maggie quashed an internal reprimand. She already felt guilty for disposing of the twins for this fool’s errand. It would all be better after this, she promised them silently.

  The limousine eased into motion. It made a looping turn in the lot outside the offices and headed away in the failing daylight, taillights flashing. Maggie let the SUV roll out, keeping a good distance and leaving her headlights off.

  She followed them all the way to the highway, and then onto the busy lanes. Once she was submerged in traffic, she turned her lights on. They moved faster.

  It was full night by the time they reached the city. Karl called again. A text came and then another. Where are you? Maggie didn’t have time to respond.

  Into the warren of tightly packed blocks and painful congestion. The limo was four car lengths ahead, farther than she would have liked. When she had a chance, she barged between a taxi and a bus, changed lanes sharply in a swirl of horns, and then rushed up to within two car lengths. She couldn’t see inside the limo, but Gibbs hadn’t gotten out.

  Maggie recognized the Ambassador from a block away. She was almost on top of Gibbs’s ride now, so close she thought he might recognize her if he happened to glance back. Her heart tripped as they made the last intersection a hair before the light turned red. They came closer. The limo slowed. A gap cleared between Maggie and the limousine and then she was on the rear bumper.

  The limousine stopped in front of the Ambassador, where lights dazzled off brass and the bright colors of the doorman’s uniform stood out starkly against blacks and grays. The driver got out and opened the door. Maggie was trapped behind the limo. She put on her signal and tried to merge into the next lane. She couldn’t stay here. Cars started flashing their highs at her, and there were new horns.

  Gibbs didn’t get out. Instead, a woman emerged from the hotel lobby. The woman was tall and athletic, with hair the color of pale straw. Maggie almost didn’t realize who she was looking at. In a red dress, makeup perfect and hair sculpted to fall to her shoulders, Carole Strickland looked like a different person altogether.

  Carole got in the limo. An opening in traffic appeared in the adjoining lane. Maggie swerved into it, pulling past the limousine and letting the flow of cars sweep her away. When she looked into the mirror, the limo was lost in a constellation of headlights.

  Her phone rang. Maggie glanced down and saw Karl’s face on the screen. She touched to answer.

  “Where are you?” he asked.

  “I’m running some errands.”

  “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for hours. How many errands do you have?”

  “Only a few more. Why don’t I call you after I pick up some dinner?”

  “What is going on?” Karl asked.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Are the girls okay?”

  “They’re fine, they’re with my mom. Look, I’ll be home soon. Chicken okay?”

  “Fine, but it’s getting late.”

  Maggie saw a sign pointing the way out of downtown. If she doubled back she could get on the highway well before the limo. She calculated the time she’d have to get where she needed to be, and what she would do when she got there. The decision was made.

  “Maggie? Hello?”

  When Maggie answered, she heard something in her own voice, and she realized it had been absent for a long time: the sound of steel. “I’ll be home soon. Take off your shoes and relax. I’ve got this.”

  She ended the call before he could say anything else.

  Chapter 9

  Once she reached Carole’s street and set up three houses down it took longer than she anticipated for the limo to arrive. Before it appeared, her confidence began to falter, but when she saw it, a new surge passed through her.

  The limo stopped on the curb. Gibbs got out. He offered a hand to help Carole onto the sidewalk. They walked to the house together. The lights were on in every window, and cast warm yellow light on the perfect lawn. The front door opened before they got there. Maggie saw Philip, Carole’s husband. He kissed Carole on the doorstep, and then they all went inside.

  Maggie started the SUV’s engine and crept up on the house. It had a picture window in front, framed by curtains on either side. When drawn it was impossible to see inside, but when they were open by night the living room was clearly visible.

  Three figures moved in the frame of the window. Maggie eased her vehicle to a stop directly opposite the house and hunkered down in her seat. She watched Philip laugh and put his hand on the small of Carole’s back. She saw Carole open the small purse she carried. An envelope came out. Carole handed it to Gibbs, who peeled it open. Maggie saw the cash come out. Gibbs counted it. Eight bills. He gave four to Carole’s husband, and put the rest inside his jacket.

  They were close together now. Maggie saw Philip move behind Carole and kiss her neck. He smiled while Gibbs talked, and Carole laughed silently, every sound absorbed by the glass. Gibbs moved toward her. Maggie realized Philip was unzipping Carole’s dress.

  None of them seemed to notice or care that they were showcased in the golden illumination of the living room. Maggie watched the first part of the spectacle unfold, and by the time they moved out of sight, likely to a bedroom on the second floor, she realized the view was simply part of the thrill.

  Chapter 10

  She felt for certain Karl would be full of angry questions when she returned home after meeting her mom to pick up the girls, but he was strangely subdued. He took the girls in to change them for sleep while she defrosted the chicken. Maggie hoped for something to break the stalemate, but she knew when he wasn’t ready to talk and she didn’t know what she’d tell him, anyway. It was very quiet as they sat opposite each other in the girls’ bedroom in twin rocking chairs with the lights turned off, and only the night-light glowing like soft star-shine. Karl murmured to Becky and Maggie cuddled Lana against her shoulder until both children were asleep. Maggie switched on the baby monitor and they moved to the table to eat, the bare minimum of small talk between them.

  An hour later, Maggie lay on her back looking at the ceiling, and she knew without looking Karl was doing the same. Neither one of them would sleep until the words were said.

  “I’m sorry,” Maggie told him.

  Karl was slow to respond. “I guess I don’t understand.”

  “It wasn’t a big deal. I was doing something for myself and I didn’t think. Before I knew it, the sun was down and…you know.”

  “I guess we should talk about it,” Karl said.

  “There’s nothing to talk about. I was running around too late. You’re right, I should be thinking about what has to happen at home.”

  Her husband turned toward her on the bed, his head resting on his pillow. They didn’t touch. “We went over it a thousand times, but sometimes I think we were wrong not to just hire a nanny. I know we didn’t want that for our children, but you don’t ask the chief of detectives to turn into a stay-at-home mom overnight while her husband stays on the job. It’s like putting a wild animal in a cage. They might get used to it after a while, but they’re always going to want to be out there. And I’m sorry about that. I really am.”

  He put his hand on her, resting his palm on her belly through the covers. After a while she put her hand on his. “I get a little crazy sometimes. It’s true.”

  “You need to get out. I understand.”

  “It’s not just that. I’m still thinking like a cop. I hear things and I see things and I can’t stop wondering what’s going on. It’s like this whole situation with Holly Gibbs.”

  She felt Karl’s hand twitch under hers, but when he spoke his voice was careful. “I thought we were going to steer clear of that.”

  “We are. We are. It’s just that the ladies around here all know one another and word gets around. When something like this happens, it’s all anyone wants to talk about and it gets me going. I want to know more.” She looked at him. “Do you understand I need to know more?”

&nbs
p; “You know I can’t talk about it. And Mike can’t, either, so don’t think about doing an end-run.”

  “Did you set him straight?”

  “We talked. He agreed.”

  Maggie nodded slowly, then turned toward the ceiling again. “Holly Gibbs and her husband definitely had an open marriage. It’s not just a rumor.”

  “Do I want to know how you know this?”

  “The first things I heard could have been speculation, but I have corroboration now. I don’t know how extensive it is, but he was just as much into it as she was.”

  “Who are you getting this from? Who exactly?”

  “I’m not ready to talk about that yet.”

  “Protecting your informant?”

  “Something like that. What did you get out of Gibbs about it?”

  “It didn’t come up during our interview, that’s for sure.”

  “I guess it wouldn’t. Because then he’d have to explain that she was out with other men and he was out with other women and then the pool of suspects gets bigger and more complicated. It’s probably not what he wants. He seems to like his privacy.”

  “All the more reason to give it to him. The man just lost his wife. And like I told you before, I can’t arrest the man on suspicion of being a sexual deviant. We don’t exactly have laws against that anymore. As long as he and his wife were consenting adults involved with other consenting adults, there’s nothing actionable.”

  “Let me ask you this, then: would you let me run around on you?”

  “What kind of question is that?”

  “I’m only wondering what husband lets his wife out to play like that. I mean, I can get it when one spouse cheats without the other one knowing, but they were totally up front about it. And they’re not the only ones out there doing it. Maybe not even in the neighborhood. So when you put yourself out that far, with so many people who might get jealous or crazy…it’s something worth looking into.”

  Karl slid his hand away. When he spoke again, Maggie heard a different note in his voice. “I don’t think we should talk about this anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re doing exactly what we decided you shouldn’t do, which is investigating this on your own. It’s one thing if you want to pass along little bits of gossip that I can use, but it’s something else if you’re out there looking for suspects and building cases. I shouldn’t have to explain this. You should know even better than I do that sort of thing causes headaches for everybody. Amateur detectives.”

  Now Maggie stiffened. “‘Amateur detectives’? I had my gold shield before you did. Mike, too. I busted my tail to make chief of detectives when I did. And I was—”

  “The youngest chief of detectives in the history of the department,” Karl cut in.

  “I was, Karl. I’m a professional, not an amateur.”

  “I’m not saying you don’t know the procedure. You know what I mean. I’m talking about people on the outside who want to get a piece of the investigation. They could contaminate evidence, or interfere with witnesses and make the whole case fall apart.”

  “You think I’d let that happen? You think I’d kill your case?”

  Karl rolled on his back. “I can’t believe we’re even having this discussion. You need to stay out of it, and I don’t care what you heard about Holly Gibbs or what you think of her husband. And whatever freaky sex stuff they were into might make for juicy chitchat at the gardening club, but it’s only relevant if I can make a better case out of it.”

  Maggie was quiet awhile. Karl said nothing. Finally she said, “But you’re going to look into it?”

  Karl sighed. “I have to now, don’t I? It’s information provided from the community. Yes, I’ll ask him about it. And if it’s relevant, we’ll open a line of inquiry and see who she was with and whether any of them had anything to do with her murder. I swear I’ll look into it.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.”

  “But you didn’t answer my question,” Maggie said.

  “What question?”

  “Would you let me run around on you? Is that the sort of thing that’d be okay with you?”

  Karl fell silent again, and this time Maggie thought he would avoid the question altogether. He turned so his back was to her. She listened for the soft sound of his sleeping breath, but he was still awake. “No,” he said. “That’s not something I would do. And I don’t think it’s something you would do.”

  “I wouldn’t,” Maggie said. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. Go to sleep now. We’ll pretend like today never happened. Good night.”

  “Good night,” Maggie said. She said nothing else, and eventually Karl did sleep, but she was still awake, the ceiling hovering above her, and the image through the picture window of Carole’s house.

  Chapter 11

  Maggie’s mother came the next day. She set up in the guest bedroom, and buzzed around the house tidying up and making meals and fussing over the twins for three days. Karl came and went, but Maggie stayed home. They didn’t talk about Holly Gibbs again. She thought several times about revealing what she’d seen at Carole’s house, but she didn’t want a repeat of the night she’d seen it all, so she kept it to herself. He said nothing to her about what he might have learned from Bryant Gibbs. Maybe he hadn’t asked the question at all.

  On the fourth day Maggie called Carole and caught her at home. “I was thinking about lunch at DiMaggio’s,” Maggie said. “Are you busy?”

  “Of course not! Are you kidding? I’ll be watching reruns of Dr. Oz all day if I don’t get out of the house. Meet you there around one?”

  “Sounds great,” Maggie said brightly.

  She found the twins and their grandmother in the backyard, crawling on the grass. Already they had grass stains on their outfits, but they didn’t care. Maggie’s mother looked up. “What’s wrong? Did you get some bad news?”

  Maggie pretended a smile and injected cheeriness into her voice. “Oh, no, it’s great. You know I love having you here. It makes things a lot easier.”

  “Happy to help. And look at these two! They’re natural explorers!”

  “Hey, listen,” Maggie said casually. “I was thinking about having lunch with a friend. Do you mind if I’m gone for a couple of hours?”

  “Not at all. We’ll eat our own lunch and have naptime and then we’ll play the afternoon away. Take all the time you want.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Don’t worry about a thing. Have some fun.”

  When noon arrived, Maggie’s mother was in the kitchen feeding the twins. Maggie dressed for the weather and the restaurant, kissed the girls on the head, and told her mother not to worry. She was on the road soon after, the radio playing light pop and everything seemed as normal as any other day. It might even have been boring, but she hadn’t reached that point yet.

  It was warm enough in the afternoon, and the sun bright enough, that the patio at the restaurant was open. Maggie saw Carole as she walked in from the parking lot, waving from a table beneath a gaily spreading yellow umbrella with a green stem like some giant, exotic flower. Maggie went straight to her. Carole hugged her loosely and they sat down together.

  “I ordered something already,” Carole said. “A Long Island iced tea. You want something? Not too much, I know, but it’s nice out.”

  The server came, a young woman with a ponytail and a crisp uniform. The restaurant wasn’t fancy, but threaded the line between upscale and casual well enough to attract the suburbanite crowd. People with money, but not true wealth. That described the Parish very well. Maggie ordered a lemonade and a bottle of sparkling water. “I want to look at the menu for a little bit,” she added.

  When they were alone, Carole sat picking idly at the edge of her menu. She looked strikingly normal in a pink golf shirt and white slacks. She had a yellow neckerchief tied around her throat, and its tail flicked in the light breeze. Her hair was up and her makeup conservative.
When Maggie looked at her, she could hardly square the image of this woman and the woman in the limo. The woman who’d take two men to bed, one who wasn’t her husband, and maybe more Maggie didn’t know about, all on the same night. And the neckerchief made her think. “You’re looking at me like I have two heads,” Carole remarked.

  Maggie flushed. “I’m sorry. I was spacing. So busy with the girls, and now my mother’s staying with us for a little while. It’s crazy.”

  “You have to get out sometimes,” Carole agreed. “Take some time for you. I know that’s how I am. Philip’s at work half the time, so you’d think I’d have all these opportunities to go crazy, but I stay cooped up in the house until I just have to go out, you know?”

  Maggie saw Carole kissing Bryant Gibbs. “I understand completely,” Maggie said. “It’s like prison sometimes.”

  “Exactly. What are you going to have? I’m going to have the lunch omelet. I should watch the calories, but you have to live a little.”

  When the server returned, they ordered, and then they were left alone again. Maggie stirred her lemonade with a straw, paying closer attention to the swirling ice than she might otherwise. She didn’t want to look directly at Carole, because she didn’t want anything to show. The need to know was stronger every minute they sat together, but it wouldn’t do to crash directly into it.

  “So…how is Karl?” Carole asked.

  “He’s good.”

  “Good good, or not-so-good good?”

  Maggie still averted her eyes, but she hoped Carole would misread it. “We have our ups and downs. He’s like Philip: always working. I used to be that way, too. When I was in my last job. When we saw each other outside work, it was kind of like a surprise.”

  “Surprise is good. Keeps things lively.”

  Something clicked for Maggie. She looked at Carole directly. “I think that’s the whole thing, you know? Keeping it lively. I mean, Karl and I have been married for four years, and we were together five years before that, and now we have the girls and it can be hard to hold on to the spontaneity.”