Pallor chuckled. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“It takes up half of the second bedroom, which is why there’s only enough room for a single bed. It has two doors, one from each bedroom, but you can’t have them both open at the same time. The sink is opposite the toilet, but it’s so close that if you sit on the toilet, your knees are under the sink. And the shower stall is so small that Karl’s elbows stay bruised. You really do need to be a contortionist to live there. And I don’t know where all of the hot water goes, but neither of us has had a hot shower since we came to Omaha.”
“Didn’t your agent say it was modern? I thought modern baths were roomy.”
Joan grinned. “Yeah, so did I. The kitchen’s just as modern as the bath. It has one of those little half refrigerators, like the ones college kids have in their dorm rooms. The stove is a hot plate that’s been bolted to the counter top. The sink is maybe half a foot deep and at full force, the water dribbles out of the faucet. There’s one small cabinet above the counter with just enough room for a few dishes and utensils. I have to keep any groceries I buy stored in boxes stacked against the wall, and we’re eating on TV trays because neither of my tables will fit in there.”
“I lived in an apartment once, but it was no where near as bad as that one. One of the things that bothered me was that every time my neighbors argued, I could hear every word. I felt like an eavesdropper.”
Joan nodded and said, “I know what you mean. Our walls are so thin that we don’t even bother to turn on our television. We just listen to the neighbor’s. And I’ll just let you imagine what else we hear.”
Pallor laughed. “I hope you didn’t sign a year’s lease.”
“No. The only good thing about this place is that we rent it by the week. As soon as I can find another place, we’re out of there, but in the meantime …” Joan shook her head. “Oh well, things will be better soon.” Then she stood up and took out her order pad. “Now, what else can I get you for breakfast?”
Joan waited on a few other customers while Pallor ate his breakfast. As he was finishing, she stopped by his table to fill up his coffee cup again.
“I’ve got an idea,” he said. “I own a rental house about five miles on the other side of Council Bluffs. It’s the last house on a dead-end road and it’s becoming vacant this weekend. It would probably add twenty or thirty minutes to your commute, but would you and your husband like to see it? I was going to run an ad in the newspaper this weekend, but if you want to see it, I’ll hold off on the ad.”
“When can we look at it?” Joan’s eyes lit up.
“Let me see what it looks like when they move out. I’ll drop by Monday and let you know when I can show it. Would that be okay?”
“Perfect!” Joan said as she pocketed his ticket. “You just made my day. Breakfast is on me!”
~ ~ ~ ~
When Pallor left the diner, he rushed over to the coffee house for his appointment with Theresa. She was sitting at a small table in the back. Pallor got a cup of coffee and joined her.
“I was beginning to think you’d stood me up,” Theresa said with a grin.
“No, just running a little late this morning. Still engaged?” Pallor asked.
Theresa frowned. “Unfortunately, yes. Mr. Lopez wants us to select an engagement ring this weekend. Did your seminar group come up with anything?”
“Well, there was one interesting idea. A couple of the guys said that they’d run for the hills if the girl started asking them to spend a lot of money on her, especially along the lines of jewelry or clothes, things that would be exclusively for her, things she would be able to keep if they broke up.”
Theresa frowned. “You mean ask him to buy me things before we’re married? I’m not sure I could do that. It seems so … I don’t know.”
Pallor laughed. “Theresa! Do you want to marry this man or not?”
“No!”
“Then you’re going to have to make him break it off, and you can’t do that by being nice. You need to come across as a conniving, money grabbing bitch.”
Theresa took a deep breath. “Okay. How do I do this?”
Pallor offered a few suggestions and then he said, “Treat this like a class assignment. Write a scene between a greedy, manipulating hussy and the older man who wants her. Use a jewelry store for your setting and buying an engagement ring as the focus. Have her pick out an extravagant ring, and then demand all kinds of accessories. You know, necklaces, bracelets, earrings, maybe a brooch. Get outrageous with it. Ask some of your friends for ideas. Then when the time comes, just step into the role and play the scene.”
“That’s a good idea,” Theresa said, her eyes sparkling. “I bet I could do that.”
“I’ve got a friend who owns a jewelry store. Let me talk to him and see what I can arrange. I’ll even play the role of the eager sales clerk who wants to sell you everything in the store. If we set this up for when the store is closed, like a private showing just for the two of you, there won’t be any chance that someone who knows you will walk in and ruin everything.”
“That would be great, but I hate to get you involved in this. You don’t even know me.”
“I hate to admit it, but I’m looking forward to it. I used to do a bit of community theater when I was younger, but I haven’t been on a stage in years. This is going to be loads of fun. Well, for everyone except Mr. Lopez,” Pallor said with a smile. “Do you think you can put him off about the ring until the first of next week?”
“I’m sure I can. I can always have a headache.”
“Okay. Let me talk to my friend over the weekend and see what I can set up. Meanwhile, get that scene written.” Pallor stood up to go. “Can you meet me here Monday?”
Theresa nodded. “10:00?”
Pallor nodded and said, “See you then.”
~ ~ ~ ~
Immediately after leaving the coffee house, Pallor dashed to the little restaurant where Steve Patterson ate lunch. Steve was already seated when Pallor arrived. He walked over towards Steve’s table and asked, “Mind if I join you, Mr. Patterson?”
Steve didn’t recognize the man, but he figured that he was either a former student or the parent of one of his students, so he smiled and nodded towards the empty chair.
“How are you enjoying your retirement?” Pallor asked.
“To be honest, it’s not as much fun as I’d hoped it would be. In fact, sometimes, it’s downright boring,” Steve admitted.
Pallor nodded. “I was sorry to hear about your wife. That was a rough blow, I’m sure.”
Steve nodded and felt the familiar lump form in his throat. “Yes, well …”
“My name’s Paul Stewart, Mr. Patterson. You don’t know me. I’m a writer. I did a piece on your retirement party for one of the local papers.”
“That was quite a while ago. I’m surprised you recognized me.”
“To be honest, I came here today looking for you,” Pallor said. Steve frowned, but he didn’t say anything, so Pallor continued. “I spotted you in here earlier this week, and an idea hit me. I thought I’d mention it to you and get your reaction.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“Like I said, I’m a writer. My area is primarily fantasy, but lately I’ve been thinking about trying a historical novel. Unfortunately, I’m under contract with my publisher, so I have to keep going with the fantasy series. If I’m ever going to get anywhere with the other book, I need someone to help me.”
Steve shook his head and said, “Mr. Stewart, I’m not a writer. I don’t think I could be much help to you.”
“I don’t need help with the writing. I need help with the research. I don’t have time to dig through libraries or search the Internet. That’s what I’d like to hire you to do.”
Steve looked thoughtful. After a few minutes, he nodded. “I might be interested, but I’d need to know more about the book before I could promise anything.”
“Understandable,” Pallor said with a smile and a slight
nod. “All of my notes are in my office at the house. Maybe we could get together for dinner sometime next week and go over the outline I’ve written and talk about the specifics a little. Would you be willing to meet with me?”
“Definitely,” Steve said with a little more enthusiasm.
“Great! I’ll call you and we’ll set it up,” Pallor said as he stood up to leave.
~ ~ ~ ~
After lunch, Pallor called Mr. Beasley, the senior partner of Beasley, Dixon, Matherson and Co. PA. Shortly after Kevin had accepted a job with them, Pallor had moved his considerable assets to their care.
When Mr. Beasley came on the line, Pallor said, “This is Paul Stewart. I’m going to need Kevin O’Reilly to handle a couple of things for me next week. I’m not sure when yet, but it may entail time outside of the standard office hours. Will that be a problem?”
“No, of course not. I assure you that he’ll be available whenever you need him, regardless of the hour. You have my word.”
“Thank you, Mr. Beasley. I’ll hold you to that. I’ll be back in touch next week with the details.”
“Very good, Mr. Stewart. We’re at your disposal.”
~ ~ ~ ~
Friday evening, Pallor collapsed in his recliner, shut his eyes, and mentally took stock. He felt pretty sure that he could maneuver Joan, her husband, Theresa, Steve, and Darrell into position. He hoped that by disabling Chris’s car, he could get him into position, too. Another phone call to Mr. Beasley would pretty much guarantee Kevin.
The best way to fake someone’s death without having to produce a body was a storm at sea, but considering Omaha’s location, that was not an option. However, between the Missouri River and the various local lakes and forests, a body sometimes turned up years after a person was reported missing, long after the authorities had given up looking.
The only way Pallor could come up with to explain the disappearance and presumed deaths of Kevin and his companions was to get them all in one place and hit them with a really big tornado, one that would carry the debris for miles. The tricky part was going to be keeping the storm from harming anyone else, and with those thoughts floating around in his head, Pallor fell asleep.
Chapter 9
Pallor’s Plan Comes Together
Saturday morning, Pallor went to a remote wasteland on Terah and spent the day creating tornadoes, controlling their direction, speed, and strength, and then calming them down. When he got back home that evening, he mapped out the city bus routes and selected one that ran out to Mall of the Bluffs in Council Bluffs.
Sunday afternoon he tracked down the man who drove that route during the week and conned the driver into letting him make the last run every night for a few days by pretending to be a private investigator in the middle of a sensitive case. Of course a valid commercial driving license and a fistful of dollars helped his case.
Sunday evening Pallor pored over weather maps to see when the atmospheric conditions would be the most favorable for what he had in mind. After several hours, he came to the conclusion that Tuesday evening was going to be his best shot.
Pallor’s first stop Monday morning was the diner. As soon as he sat down, Joan brought him a cup of coffee and a cheese danish, but she was too busy to stop and talk. He took his time eating and then lingered over several cups of coffee waiting for the crowd to thin out. When she brought his check, he said, “I went by the rental house last night. The people are gone, but their furniture and packing crates are still there. They left a note saying that the movers won’t be able to get to it until tomorrow morning. Unfortunately, I have to go out of town Wednesday morning and I won’t be back until after the weekend.”
Joan’s face fell, but she said, “That’s fine. No rush.”
“Well, I was wondering if you and your husband would like to see it tomorrow night. I know you won’t be able to see much of the yard, but at least you’d get a good look at the inside.”
“Tomorrow evening would be great!” A grin spread from ear to ear on Joan’s face. “What time do you want us to meet you? Where is it? How do we get there?”
“It’s sort of hard to find at night if you’re not familiar with the area. Why don’t you take the last bus out to Mall of the Bluffs tomorrow night and meet me at the main entrance? I’ll take you out to the house and then I’ll drop you off at your apartment on my way home.”
“Are you sure?” Joan asked. “I hate for you to go to all that trouble.”
“No trouble at all,” Pallor said as he stood up to go. “Besides, I’d like to get a look at that apartment you’re in. You never know, it might show up in one of my books one day.”
~ ~ ~ ~
His next stop was the coffee shop. Theresa was seated so that she could see the door. She was watching for him and her eyes lit up when he walked in.
Pallor got a cup of coffee and joined her. “So, did you get it written?”
Theresa nodded. “I called some of my friends Friday night and laid out the scene for them over the phone. By the time we got together Saturday morning, they had all kinds of ideas and lines, and we came up with even more once we started talking. It was actually a lot of fun. Then, when I got home, I told my mother that I had a bad headache and didn’t want to be disturbed. I spent the whole day in my room, writing and rewriting.”
“Have you got it with you?”
Theresa pulled a folder out of her bag. Pallor held his hand out, and after a moment’s hesitation, she handed it over. While he read, she played with her hair, bit her lips, and squirmed. Finally he laid the folder down on the table and grinned at her.
“That’s good work, Theresa. If you’re half as demanding as your female lead, he’ll run for the hills. Can you play the part?”
“I’ll be nervous, but I can do it.” Theresa had spent all day Sunday in her room, practicing her lines in front of her mirror, trying out different facial expressions and hand movements, working on it until it felt almost natural.
“As soon as you come into the store, concentrate on me. Play the scene for me. Don’t worry about Mr. Lopez. He has a minor role. We’re the actors.”
Theresa laughed and nodded.
“Now, here’s what I want you to do,” Pallor said. He told her to take the last bus out to Mall of the Bluffs Tuesday evening and have Mr. Lopez meet her at the jewelry store. “My friend and I went through everything he had in stock this weekend and picked out the most exquisite pieces for me to show you. Be sure you pick them up and try them on while you’re telling him that he has to buy them for you, and when he resists, really pour it on. If you play it like you wrote it, it’ll scare him off for sure.”
“I hope this works,” Theresa said. “Well, I’ve got to get to class.” She gathered up her papers and put them back in her book bag. “Thanks, Mr. Stewart. Keep your fingers crossed!”
Pallor nodded and gave her a thumbs-up.
~ ~ ~ ~
After lunch, Pallor called Darrell and told him that he had reserved a recording studio for late Tuesday evening, and asked him to take the last bus out to Mall of the Bluffs and meet him at the entrance. Then he said, “We’ll take my car out to the recording studio and when we finish up there, I thought we’d drop by a new sports bar that I want to check out.”
Darrell hesitated a second and then said, “Okay.”
“Don’t worry. The only thing I drink at a sports bar is coffee. It’s all business for me. Have you tried doing a play-by-play with one of your old games yet?”
Darrell chuckled.
Pallor said, “I’ll take that as a yes. Good. How did it go?”
“I got so tongue-tied the first time I tried to do it that I nearly gave up. I don’t know whether I’m any good or not, but at least I’m not choking on my own words anymore.”
Pallor laughed. “The first time’s always the worst, but that one’s behind you now. I’m sure you’ll do fine. See you tomorrow.”
After Darrell hung up, all the confidence he had built up by practicin
g over the weekend flew out the window. His hands began to sweat and his stomach began to churn. He felt just like he always did right before a big game.
~ ~ ~ ~
Steve had spent his weekend visiting computer stores, trying out different models, talking to salesmen, and collecting information sheets and prices. Monday morning, he had gone online at the library to check out different Internet service providers and software packets. By the time he got home Monday afternoon, he had decided that unless the subject matter of the book was objectionable, he was going to take the job.
He had just walked in the door when the phone rang.
“Mr. Patterson? This is Paul Stewart. Are you still willing to meet with me and discuss my outline?” Pallor asked.
“Yes I am,” Steve answered. “As a matter of fact, I’m looking forward to it.”
“Good! I’m glad to hear it. Would late tomorrow evening be all right with you?”
“Fine. Where should I meet you?”
“Why don’t you take the last bus out to Mall of the Bluffs? I’ve got a late appointment out there, but I’ll be done by 9:00. If you’ll meet me at the entrance, I’ll take you to a small restaurant I know that’s right outside of town for a late dinner. They stay open until 1:00, so we’ll have plenty of time to talk about the research topics. I can drop you off at your house on my way home.”
“Sounds good to me. See you tomorrow night,” Steve said as he disconnected.
~ ~ ~ ~
When Pallor showed up to drive the last bus route Monday evening, he was wearing glasses, a fake mustache, and a beard. His cap was pulled down over his hair and his jacket was zipped up to hide the padding he had used to add weight to his slim figure.
The regular bus driver stared at him for a few minutes and then grinned. “Almost didn’t recognize you. Look, I don’t mind helping you with your investigation, Mr. Carter, but I can’t let you take this bus without checking you out. I’ll ride along with you tonight and if all goes well, you’re on your own tomorrow. Okay?”
The Master's Chair (The Chronicles of Terah) Page 11
