Xs, An Allie Armington Mystery

by Louise Gaylord

  I nod and meet his gaze. “I think that was very, very nice. Yes.” We linger for a moment at my door. It would be so easy to ask Jaime in and give my sagging ego a much-needed boost. Instead, I accept a friendly kiss on the cheek and watch him disappear into the elevator lobby.

  Jaime cares for me. And more than just a little. He’s bright, witty and a hunk. What’s not to like?

  So, what’s wrong with me? Why can’t I let go of Bill and get on with my life?

  Chapter 35

  I’M WELL INTO MY dark hotel room before I see the outline of a man standing against the dimly lit window. I jam my hand inside my purse, grab my Beretta and release the safety, then realize it’s Bill.

  For the briefest second I picture him standing much the same as he is now, wearing that great-looking sheriff ’s uniform, his pilot’s sunglasses reflecting the rolling Texas hills behind me. It’s then I yearn for the heady Kryptonite scent he wore in Uvalde, the aroma that once telegraphed his presence and made me go weak in the knees.

  I relax, latch the safety on my weapon and toss my purse on the lonely twin bed I’ve called mine since I moved back into the Wells.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He settles into the darkness. “I was beginning to ask myself that same question.”

  The silence hangs between us until he says, “I shared an early dinner with Aunt Georgina, then caught the ten o’clock. I was hoping to surprise you.”

  “I’m surprised. So leave.”

  He moves to stand only inches away. “That’s quite a change in your attitude from the last time we were together in this room.”

  “You mean when you made love to me and walked out?”

  Bill circles my waist. “You made the first move, remember? I believe you said, ‘Do you need to go?’ But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I was seriously considering the same idea.”

  I fight the temptation to stay put and step back. “I thought you might at least have tried to contact me after that rather strained meeting in Greenwich.”

  “I had every intention of following you into the city, but after you and Miss Cha left, Aunt Georgina had a bad afternoon. I was with her until she fell asleep.”

  He lets out a long breath. “Being the only source of comfort to an aunt I barely know has been hard duty. The good news is my parents are coming to stay with her for most of December.”

  “So, you do have parents. For all I know you could have arrived here in a spaceship.”

  His response is not what I expect. His voice is as harsh as his words. “Cut it out. After this evening, I’m the one who should be asking the questions.”

  “And why is that?”

  “I called your room from the Lobby. When there was no answer, I stopped by the bar for a drink.”

  I’m thankful I haven’t turned on the lights. My heart jumps and my cheeks go hot. I feel as guilty as a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

  I try to recall if there was someone else at the bar. When Jaime and I entered and ordered, it was well past eleven and we were the only two customers. Then. But as time passed, neither one of us was concentrating on much else but each other.

  A sigh signals Bill’s dejection, then I hear it in his voice. “I saw you there with Platón.”

  I snap on the overhead light. “So what? It’s a free country. I was having a drink with a friend.”

  “And does having a drink with a friend include letting him chew on your face?”

  He’s jealous and I’m enjoying every second of it. Why not take advantage of the chink in his armor?

  My words tumble forward. “The last time we were together, you said you loved me—only me. Then I hear nothing for weeks. Did you lose my telephone number? Forget my address? Have a lobotomy? And when I do turn up, obviously unexpectedly, I find not only that the person you told me you hardly knew is really your mother’s sister, but there’s a good-looking blonde glued to your side.”

  At that Bill gives me his wonderful, crooked smile. “So that’s what this is about? Dierdre Wainwright? Hey, I can explain that real easy. We met at Yale. I found out she lived next door to Aunt Georgina. We dated. But that ended when I graduated. I swear. There’s nothing going on between us.”

  Pin a gold star on Mindy Cha. Dierdre isn’t a new addition to Bill’s life; she’s an old flame, a stunning, well-bred, well-educated old flame. What can a woman born and raised in Lampasas, Texas, with a BS and a LLD from UT possibly have to offer against that stacked deck?

  Bill takes a few steps toward me. “I was hoping that after the other evening—that maybe someday—”

  I turn away and move to the window, keenly aware that if I let him touch me again, my thin shell of defense will dissolve.

  Across the airspace is another hotel room. The sheers are drawn, but inside I see a woman on a single twin bed similar to mine, watching television. Alone. If I look at her much longer, I’ll get depressed. I could so easily be her.

  I turn to face him. “So, why are you here?”

  “I needed to see you. To tell you what’s going on.”

  When he steps closer, I cross my arms in defense. “Is this another tall tale? Something else to cover up?”

  “I haven’t lied to you, Allie, at least not in the venial sense.”

  “Ahhh, the venial sense. I didn’t know you were Roman.”

  “I’m not.” He shakes his head. “For Pete’s sake, what difference does religion make? I’m trying to make a point here.”

  “Which is?”

  “Until I learned you were coming to scope out Aunt Georgina, I thought you were safe and sound a thousand miles away.”

  “Gee, that makes me feel so good. To know you thought I was safe and sound—and, from the looks of it—waaay out of sight.”

  I take a step back. “Was I mistaken? Didn’t we have something going between us—something more than the usual sexual attraction?”

  It’s Bill’s turn to sound exasperated. “Sex? Is that all you think I want from you?”

  He takes a deep breath. “Keeping space between us in Texas was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” Then he murmurs, “I love you, Allie. I don’t want to lose you.”

  When his eyes telegraph the same message, I can’t help but relent a little. “Okay. Okay. So maybe you didn’t know I never left town. Though I would have thought you just might have called to see if I arrived safely in Houston. What I don’t get is when you found out I was coming to Greenwich, you didn’t at least give me a heads up?”

  He stares at me a few seconds. “I didn’t want to miss the chance to see you again. Besides, if I had let you know, would you have made the trip?”

  I think about that for a few seconds. “I don’t know. Probably. But why didn’t you tell me Georgina Kingsley-Smythe was your aunt? You knew all along there was no way she could be Sigrid Hale.”

  “I told you Aunt Georgina was in a wheelchair. Remember? They discovered she had a benign but inoperable tumor on her spine shortly after she and Uncle Jason were married. Poor thing has enough on her plate without learning what I really do. She’s an old woman who’s grieving for more reasons than Uncle Jason’s death.”

  He opens his arms in invitation. “Allie, you have to believe me. I’ve just left a few things out—mainly to protect you. Can’t you forgive me for that?”

  When I back toward the door, his arms lower and he says, “You can’t, can you?”

  “What’s to forgive? You’re doing your job and I’m trying to do mine. I told you I was committed to finding Carolina’s murderer, and I intend to do just that.”

  He’s been edging my way ever since he started speaking, but I’m backed against the door and have no place to go.

  Before I can make a move I’m trapped in his arms, and when his mouth captures mine, every last shred of resolve disappears.

  When Bill murmurs, “I want you, Allie. I want you now,” I verify all the arousal responses: pulse racing, breathing shallow and quick, hea
t throbbing in all the right places. All systems are go with one minute to liftoff.

  Then I check the one site I’ve been ignoring my gut—where sadly, a voice-over is screaming, “Mayday. Mayday. Abort. Abort.”

  I break the kiss and rest my head on Bill’s shoulder. “This isn’t going to work.”

  He stiffens, then steps away. “Why not? Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t fall on that bed and spend the rest of the night there.”

  I can’t tell him about the sirens and the mayday. So I just stand there like a mute and shake my head.

  “Okay, you’re mad. I get that. You still think Dierdre and I are lovers, but we’re not. It’s over between us, damn it. It’s been over for years.”

  I find my voice. “Did I say that?”

  “No.” He puts his hands on my shoulders and leans his forehead against mine. “I need you, Allie. I need you to give me a sane place to go in all this mess. The DEA can’t get a decent handle on Hale. The pipeline the Colombians were trying to cut off at their end is still pumping like hell, and the drugs and prostitution are still going strong. Damn it, Allie, I’m up to my ass in alligators.”

  He gives an exasperated moan, then his body makes full contact.

  I’m pinned to the door by an aroused male. Worse still, the erogenous zones of my body have cranked back up to the danger zone: knees jelly, mouth greedily harvesting his kisses, arms dangling at my side as my body curves eagerly against his.

  But down deep in my gut: the siren is still screeching, and the mayday calls are louder than ever. There are too many unanswered questions about Bill. Or as he puts it: too many sins of omission.

  I slide out of his arms and lurch toward the window.

  When Bill turns, he looks like a small boy who’s just learned there’s no Santa Claus.

  He starts toward me and I hold up my hand. “Stop right where you are.”

  His disappointment turns to disgust. “I get your message. Loud and clear. It’s Jaime. Right?”

  I shake my head. “Wrong. I’m in love with the man you were in Uvalde. But he’s not here. Someone else is. A Yale Law graduate with a Yankee accent, whose aunt lives in a mansion in Greenwich just across the hedge from his classy ex-girlfriend, who’s very busy trying to reclaim her territory.”

  Bill slumps on the bed and leans forward to cover his face with both hands. “I told you weeks ago that what you see are the exterior traits I alter in order to do my job; just like I made changes when I was in Uvalde. Underneath, I’m the same person.”

  “Are you? I wonder.”

  He peers up at me. “Do you remember the cave? How I held you in my arms until you fell asleep?”

  I can feel my defenses fading. “Oh, yes, I remember that night very well. But as you so often say, that’s not the point. The point is that I desperately need to find that man again.”

  I rise and open the door, then turn to face him. “Keep in touch.”

  He joins me and brings my lips to his in a tender kiss. “You have to know I love you. Why can’t you accept that?”

  When I don’t answer, he steps into the hall, then turns to face me. “By the way, we found out who wore that Foo Dog mask. You know, the black one with Chinese red accents. It was assigned to Larry Templeton, the current Cardinal.”

  “Guess he couldn’t wait until his best friend died of natural causes.”

  He gives me a fleeting grin. “I hear Larry is in high cotton now that he’s Cardinal. That’s motive enough for murder, don’t you think?”

  Bill leaves me standing there open-mouthed.

  Chapter 36

  IT’S MONDAY. Time for the Christmas Bash at The Castle. To say the team’s enthusiasm is at fever pitch would be an understatement.

  Jaime is seated next to Greene, across from Mindy and me. Ever since our evening together he’s been conducting himself with the strictest decorum. Not once have our eyes connected to share a knowing glance. Not one sign that we spent a few hours together outside of work. On one hand, I’m relieved he’s not putting the moves on me, but on the other his behavior is very puzzling.

  Maybe I’m the one who’s not in step. Maybe I read more into that kiss than he meant.

  Greene has been lining up tonight’s operation for over a week. Hampered by having to keep a low profile, he’s limited the “invasion” force to Jaime, himself and the two men in the van in the schoolyard across the street from the townhouse. I understand his reluctance to include Mindy and me, but I’m itching to get in on the act.

  The four of us have been going over the tapes from the previous evening.

  Absolutely nothing happened. Hale stayed in her suite, and Danes watched television. No communication from Larry.

  Greene looks at Jaime. “Danes has to know the living room and his suite are bugged.”

  Jaime scrunches his shoulders. “I agree. But why hasn’t he gotten rid of them? He’s not a stupid man.”

  “Plain as day to me,” Mindy says. “He wants some sort of backup for protection. He’s scared. You can hear it in his voice.” Greene gives her a brief smile, shuffles through the tapes and slips one into the player. “These particular exchanges made last week really concern me. I don’t think it would be wise to send Allie back there.”

  He replays the conversation between Cliff and Hale. In the beginning Cliff seems in charge of the situation. But minutes later, in reaction to whatever Hale whispers, Cliff ’s voice goes shaky. Then he calls Larry. That conversation ends on an ominous note. “Please, Larry, we have to meet. You’re the only one who can control the situation.”

  Greene leans back in his chair and studies the ceiling. “I don’t like this at all.”

  “But,” I say, “I’m the only one who can get in there without arousing suspicion.”

  Jaime turns to me. “I have to agree with Greene. It seems like they’re making a plan that might possibly involve you.”

  Greene waves him off. “Let’s table this for now and see what happens tonight.”

  He motions to Mindy. “Don’t you have some kind of new spin on this, Detective Cha?”

  She lowers her eyes. “Yessir, I do, but it’s so far out—” She shakes her head. “I’d like a little more time on this before I present it to everyone.”

  “Fine. But don’t wait too long. Today just might be the big one.”

  Greene motions to Jaime. “Let’s get some coffee. I need some fresh air.”

  When he looks our way, eyebrows raised, we both shake our heads.

  I wait until the men’s footsteps fade, then turn to Mindy. “Just exactly what did you find?”

  Mindy lowers her eyes. “It’s so dumb, I hate to even put it into words.”

  “Try me.”

  “Seems that in the late twenties and early thirties Kingsley-Smythe’s father and Michael Templeton were sympathetic to the German plight. Though the stock market crash didn’t seem to affect either the Kingsley-Smythes or the Templetons, both families had relatives in Munich who were devastated by the European depression.”

  She pushes a paper toward me. “Look at this.”

  I scan a copy of an article from the Greenwich Time dated July 1930, which reported that both Melchior Kingsley-Smythe and Michael Templeton were returning from a three-month stay in Munich.

  She waits until I finish reading and says, “Maybe we’ve been barking up the wrong tree. Maybe this Sigrid is Kingsley-Smythe’s distant cousin.”

  “But there’s no mention of Melchior Kingsley-Smythe returning with a child. Aren’t you pushing the envelope just a bit?” Mindy flushes. “That’s why I didn’t want to say anything. But the name ‘Sigrid Hale’ bothers me. How about you?”

  “I’m bothered only because I don’t know who she is.”

  “No, no. I’m not talking about the woman. It’s the name. Doesn’t ‘Sigrid Hale’ sound a lot like ‘Sieg Heil’?”

  “I still don’t get your drift.”

  “Do you know what ‘Sieg Heil’ means?” “Someth
ing to do with Hitler?”

  She nods. “It means ‘Hail Victory.’ Don’t you remember the old black-and-white films when the Nazis would greet one another by sticking their right arm in the air, clicking their heels and shouting ‘Sieg Heil’?”

  Mindy waits for my response. When I shrug she says, “Don’t you see some kind of connection?”

  “I suppose.”

  “I know it’s a thready correlation but I have that funny feeling I always get when I’m on to something. But at this point, I sure don’t want to make a fool out of myself.”

  “In front of Greene?”

  She lowers her head so that her heavy black mane covers her face. Out of the depths comes a barely audible, “Yes.”

  The door flies open and Greene says, “We’ve got some action. Want to come along?”

  ————

  The four of us are crowded into the van in the schoolyard, where the men in earphones are hunched over their audio-visual control unit.

  One turns, a wide grin on his face. “Not only do we have sound, but a full frontal of the woman.” He pushes a button and the surveillance tape stutters forward.

  We look into the face of Sigrid Hale and give a collective moan.

  Then Greene says, “Big deal. Funny lookin’ dark glasses and a turban. It could be anybody.”

  “Hey. We didn’t dress her. We just got her on camera.”

  I inch my way past Greene to the console. “What about the sound?”

  “Danes, as usual, comes in loud and clear. Nothing from Hale.”

  “What about tonight? Can’t you use Mindy and me? Wouldn’t getting in and out of the townhouse go faster if there were four of us?”

  The detective shakes his head. “This surveillance doesn’t warrant four people.”

  “But, Greene, if I’m the one going in, I want to see what’s there.”

  Greene’s face is stone and his response is firm. “I understand why you want to go. But, not tonight.”

  Chapter 37

  MINDY GRABS MY ARM. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”