They said their goodbyes and left to check on her mother. Gennie was happy to learn she’d had lunch and was now, once again, sleeping comfortably. Gwen had gone home and been replaced with a nurse named Jessica.
“When she wakes, we’ll try to get some dinner into her and then give her something to help her sleep through the night,” Jessica said.
“Should we stay?” Gennie asked.
“I think it would make your mom feel better if you two were to go back to your hotel, have a nice meal, and get some rest. She told me how little sleep either of you’ve gotten the past few nights.”
“Only my mom would be worried about us when she’s stuck in a hospital bed,” Gennie said.
“She’s a special lady,” said Jessica.
“I think so too,” Gennie said.
It was already dark when the car dropped them at the entrance of the hotel. A crowd of paparazzi lingered on either side of the hotel. Gennie’s breath caught as the crowd surged toward them. Two security guards, employees of the hotel, rushed over to them, shuffling them inside while shouting verbal threats to the pariahs. Once the doors shut, one of the guards, looking like a linebacker in a black suit, apologized. “Frederick has us all on high alert, Mr. Spencer. We’ll make sure none of these idiots get into the hotel. Unfortunately, we can’t do much about them snapping pictures between your car and the lobby.” He ushered them away from the windows and into the middle of the lobby.
“You did well getting us in here like you did.” Stefan thrust cash into each of the guards’ hands.
“Not necessary, sir,” said the other guard. If possible, he was bigger than his partner. His shoulder span was twice that of Stefan’s. His bald head shone with perspiration under the lobby lights.
“I insist,” Stefan said. “It’s a cold night, and we appreciate you looking after us.”
“Thank you, sir. Goodnight, then.” The guards left them, disappearing into the dark night.
“Who’s Frederick?” she whispered.
“My buddy who manages the hotel. I told you about him. We go way back. School chums in Canada. We played hockey together for years.”
“Right. I forgot.”
Stefan pointed to the entryway of the hotel’s bar. “I always meet him for a drink in the bar. It’s very old school in there, like something out of the 1950s.”
Gennie, having been distraught since they arrived, hadn’t taken the time to look at the lobby until now. A boutique hotel, it had the ambiance of an exclusive European inn: dim lights, vintage furniture, a white marble floor, and a large fireplace as the centerpiece. It soothed Gennie’s frayed nerves. The hotel was surprisingly quiet, other than a clerk checking in a new arrival and a young couple sitting in front of the fireplace sipping champagne. The woman was blond and pretty, wearing a pink sweater and skinny jeans. The man was muscular and clean-cut, with a military haircut. They looked over and grew silent as Gennie and Stefan walked by. Gennie averted her gaze and put her head down. Please do not stop us. Just leave us be.
A bellboy, seemingly coming out of nowhere, appeared before them. “May I get anything for you?” he asked.
“No, thank you,” Stefan said. “We’re on our way up to our room.”
“Of course, sir.” The bellboy escorted them to the elevator, punching the button before stepping aside with a nod of his cap.
The young man from the fireplace sidled up next to them, holding a small notepad. “Excuse me. I’m sorry to bother you. I’m Don.” He pointed to the girl by the fireplace. “And that’s my bride. We’re on our honeymoon. We could only afford one night in this place, but it’s so worth it to see you two here. We’re from Kansas, and my wife is your biggest fan, Ms. Banks.” He held out the notepad. “Would you be so kind as to give us an autograph?”
“Certainly. What’s her name?”
“Star,” he said. “If you met her mother, you’d know why.”
Gennie smiled as she wrote on the napkin. Dear Star, Congratulations on your marriage. Wishing you many happy years together. Thanks for your support. Love, Genevieve Banks.
“Thanks so much, Ms. Banks. I can’t wait to tell my mama.” He turned to Stefan. “Love your movies, man. They’re my absolute favorite.”
“Do you want his autograph?” Gennie asked, smiling.
“Nah, men don’t ask for autographs from other bros,” Don said.
Stefan laughed and slapped his shoulder. “I think that’s a good rule of thumb. I’m going to buy you guys dinner tonight instead. There’s a restaurant down the block called Nico’s. Best Italian you’ll ever have. I’ll call ahead. Reservation around seven, sound good?”
“Dude, that’s too generous. It’s not necessary,” Don said.
“Let him,” Gennie said. “It makes him feel good.”
Stefan grinned. “She’s right. I’ll tell the maître d’ over at Nico’s to take good care of you guys. Happy honeymoon.”
* * *
After thanking them again, Don went back to his wife. From her delighted scream, Don must have told her the good news.
“I’m exhausted,” Gennie said. “But that was so sweet.”
Stefan put his arm around her shoulder. “We’ll get you into pajamas and order some dinner.”
While they waited for the elevator to arrive, a young man in a blue suit and purple tie approached. “Stefan Spencer, you old goat, is that you?”
“Hell, if it isn’t Frederick Shore.” Grinning, Stefan held out his arms, and the two men embraced.
“Your neck’s gotten bigger,” said Frederick.
“You’re as scrawny as ever.”
Frederick rolled his eyes and winked at Gennie. “Trim. We call it trim. And the ladies love it.”
“Gennie, this is Frederick. It’s surprising they’d give this old bum a job, but it turns out he runs this hotel.”
Frederick raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Don’t listen to a word he says. Especially any stories from our misspent youth. He’s known for exaggeration.”
“Is he now?” She laughed, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” Manicured nails and slim wrists. Not a callous or scar on his white hands. “Thank you for taking such good care of us. Your guards just managed to keep the paparazzi from mauling us.”
“It’s an honor, Ms. Banks.” Frederick was slim, with thick, black hair slicked back with gel and small, almost pretty features. “Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything.”
“There is something,” Stefan said. “You see that young couple over there? They’re on their honeymoon. For one night. That’s all they could afford. I want to pay for them to stay here a week, meals in the restaurant included. Can you arrange that?”
“You’re just as soft as ever, Spencer,” Frederick said. “He’s like a girl the way he thinks of these things.”
“I know. Isn’t he wonderful?” Gennie asked.
“You’ve got her snowed, Spencer,” Frederick said. “If you get sick of him, you know where to find me.”
They were all laughing when the elevator arrived. Several people stepped off, staring at Gennie and Stefan, but politely passing by without a comment. They bade farewell to Frederick and punched the top floor button. Gennie sighed with relief that no one else got on the elevator. They reached their floor without incident.
Once in the room, Gennie took off her coat and plopped onto the couch with her feet on the coffee table, too bushed to speak or take off her boots. Stefan tossed his coat onto the chair, handed the room service menu to Gennie, and flipped on the fireplace.
His cell phone buzzed from his pocket. “Hello. Oh sure, I didn’t think of it. It’s no problem What’s that, eh?” Stefan walked to the window, his phone held up to his ear. “Sure, yes, I’ll certainly ask her.” He shoved his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. “That was Frederick. I need to go down to his office to give him my card for our honeymooners. I usually have a drink and a cigar with him when I stay here. Would you mind if I went down for
an hour? We could have dinner when I get back.”
“Sure, that’s fine. I’ll take a bath and have a glass of wine.”
His eyes twinkled. “Now you’re making me want to stay.”
“I’ll be here when you return. You deserve to blow off a little steam.”
“I’ll smell terrible when I get back. Like cigar.”
“The shower will be here too,” she said, smiling.
“Will you order a steak for me off the menu? Medium rare.”
“Baked potato or fries?” she asked.
“Baked. With everything on it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Your diet is atrocious.”
“You’ll save me from myself one of these days.” He leaned over, pecking her on the mouth. “I won’t be long.”
“Have fun.” She looked up at him, wishing he wasn’t going, even for a short time. Was this what is was like to be madly in love? She didn’t want to be away from him even for a minute. It didn’t matter, though. She must let him go and have a little fun. The poor man deserved it. She tugged on his arm, planting a kiss in the middle of his palm. “I love you.”
He knelt by the couch and cradled her face in his hands. “I love you. So damn much.”
“I think we should get married,” she said.
He laughed. “Well, that is good news. But you need to wait until I can ask you properly. And it’s going to be a surprise. A grand gesture like in the movies.”
“If you insist.”
“And a ring so big it’s embarrassing.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not the size that counts.”
“Said no woman ever.” A shiver went down her spine as he kissed her on the mouth. “I’ll see you in a few.”
Seconds later, the door clicked shut behind him. She checked to make sure the door was locked. Using the phone in the bar, she ordered food next: grilled chicken for her, steak for him. She poured a glass of wine and snuggled onto the couch. Without much enthusiasm, she flipped through television channels with the remote. Nothing held her interest. Her eyes felt heavy. She yawned as she pulled a blanket over her and lay lengthwise on the couch.
She dozed. A knock on the door woke her. Room service already? She forced herself off the couch, padding across the suite. She would need a tip. Where did I put my purse? On the bar? Yes, there it was. She grabbed a five-dollar bill from her wallet and trudged to the door as she stifled a yawn. The second she opened the door, she knew she’d made a mistake. An enormous man with a barrel chest and no neck shoved a revolver into her sternum. She screamed, but he clapped his hand over her mouth and thrust her against the wall, the gun aimed at her throat. “Be quiet or you die.”
In two swift movements, he gagged her with a thick cloth and tied her hands behind her back. A muslin bag was thrust over her head. The gun poked into the middle of her back as he grabbed her wrists in his fat, hot hands and steered her forward.
The door squeaked, and she almost tripped as No-Neck pushed her into the hallway. Remain calm. She conjured an image of the elk. Be strong. Somehow, she would get out of this. I have to. I have so many reasons to live.
They walked no more than ten steps. “Stop here,” he said. She heard a keycard slipping into a slot, and then the swing of a door. We’re down the hall from our suite. No-Neck shoved her, and she stumbled forward.
He untied the string around her neck and yanked off the bag. She blinked, her eyes adjusting. The suite was similar to theirs but smaller. Rick Murphy sat in a chair by the window. He’d gained at least forty pounds since she’d last seen him in person. A comb-over had replaced his once thick hair. He glared at her with deep set, beady eyes. He held an amber drink in his hand—the only thing about him that hadn’t changed in twenty years.
“Leave us, Marvin,” he said.
“Yes sir.”
She struggled against the tie that bound her hands. It would not budge. Behind her, the door opened and closed.
Murphy set his drink aside and crossed the room with surprising, catlike stealth for a man his size. When he reached her, he pulled a switchblade from his pocket. He pushed a button; the blade sprung open. He rubbed his thumb along the sharp edge. “Dull. Dull knives always hurt the most. Did you know that?” He encased the knife in its cover and slipped it back in his pocket. “You’re probably not interested in knives.” He spoke in a pleasant tone like they were friends meeting for a drink. “It’s been too long. You’re lovely, as always. I’ve seen all your movies.”
She stared up at him, helpless. Bile rose to the back of her throat.
He dragged her by the arm over to the window and shoved her onto a hardback chair. Her hands were still tied together at the wrist, but he further immobilized her by tying them to the back of the chair.
“First things first. You’re wondering how I got here, what, with the entire world watching your interview tonight. It aired an hour ago, and you really outdid yourself. I snuck up here wearing jeans and a baseball cap. No one looked twice at me. The working man’s invisible, Gennie, which is who I’ve been fighting for my entire career. Health care. Working wages. Good schools. I’ve done so much good, but none of that will be remembered, thanks to you.” He sat in the other chair, picking up his drink and downing it. “I need another drink.” Keeping his eyes on her, he walked over to the bar and poured another three fingers into his glass. He studied her from there, with his head cocked to the side. “I don’t know what to do with you, Gennie. I tried to work with you all these years. What I asked of you was so simple, and yet, you couldn’t do it. And now, I have all kinds of problems. They’re stacking up one by one. By the time this is through, I’ll have nothing left.” He sat back in the chair, crossing his legs. His socks were a plaid—blue and red. “These women will not shut up. All my life, women just keep talking and talking. All day, every day. I just want you all to shut your mouths.” His words were starting to slur.
Good. Get nice and drunk.
“I’ve brought you here to see if we might work out an arrangement. One that involves your silence. I’ve been watching your interviews, and they’ve given me a lot of information. For one, I know who you love.” He waggled a finger at her, then sipped from his drink. “In my experience, Gennie, when I figure out what a person loves and what they’re willing to sacrifice to have it, I have them right where I want them. I can get what I want, by threatening to destroy what they love. It’s all so simple, really.”
He stood unsteadily, holding on to the back of his chair for support. “You’ve been clever; I have to admit that. I’ve always appreciated a clever adversary. Locking the girl and your mother away behind your millionaire friend’s gates was smart. It all went wrong when your mother felt the need to defend herself, which I knew she would. Nice Wisconsin girls take motherhood seriously. She couldn’t stand for the world to think she was a bad mother because you see, deep down, that’s her greatest fear. I knew when we got that idiot she worked with to make up stories, we’d get her out of that compound.” He returned to the bar, pouring more whiskey into his tumbler. “Your mother’s not dead on purpose. The driver angled it just right to ensure he didn’t kill them, just maim them, therefore pulling you out of your haven.
“The problem became what to do with you. How to best hurt you? Death? Burning your beautiful face? What would cause the most pain? I’ve debated, made a list of pros and cons. Death for Genevieve Banks or death for Stefan Spencer?”
She flinched. Straining against the gag in her mouth, she tried to speak; it was no use. Nothing came out but a muffled scream that proved how right he was. Not Stefan. Please, not Stefan.
“Ah, see there. That’s what you love. Stefan Spencer. However, now they’ll link it to me if he suddenly ends up dead in the Hudson. It certainly adds to my list of troubles if I have your boyfriend murdered. So, I’m in a conundrum.” He snapped his fingers as he returned to his chair. “Something occurred to me, though. Something important. You’re in love. You were reunited with this baby you gav
e up. You have a lot to live for. You probably want to live more than you ever have. Love does that to a person.
“You want to live. To punish you the most, I will take your life. But if I do that, it must be the end of the road for me too. There’s no escaping. I’m going to jail. Even after all my sacrifice for the good of the American people, they’ll hunt me down like an animal. And I unequivocally cannot go to jail. I’m as good as dead in jail. Hell, there’s more girls too. Tomorrow more will start to come forward, like fucking sheep.” He drank, smacking his lips as he swallowed. “Have you been out to the balcony in your suite? Probably not. The view from the twentieth floor is fantastic. It’s high. High enough to kill a person if they jumped. Have you ever contemplated that in any of the hotels you’ve stayed in? I hadn’t. But today, it came to me. A fall from this balcony would end in death for whomever fell or was pushed or jumped. This was my way out. Once a decision is made, there’s great a sense of relief, almost a state of euphoria. So, I decided to get good and drunk, and then toss you off this balcony—right before I jump myself.” His words slurred.
“Of all the girls, I’ve only had to kill one. I misjudged her. She wasn’t the type to be quiet, even after I threatened to hurt her loved ones. Feisty and trashy, as it turns out. Wouldn’t keep her trap shut, and I finally figured out why. She didn’t love anything or anyone. Nothing mattered to her except survival. I can’t work with a person like that. The little bitch threatened blackmail. Next day she was dead. They never found her body.”
He finished his drink, staring at her with bleary eyes. “I never thought it would be nice-girl Genevieve Banks who took me down. My mother used to say, ‘it’s that which you worry over that never happens.’ Your ultimate demise comes from the one thing that never occurred to you.”
Use your head. He’s drunk and unsteady. Tied to the chair, how could she move? If only she could wriggle free, she could lunge for him. Use your legs. Rise up with the chair on your back and lunge for him.
“Well, it’s best we get on with it.” He stood, swaying. “I don’t feel a thing. Everything’s numb.”
The River Valley Series Page 100
