Oops.
But science had beat her to the corpse.
Science sucked. Though it had helped her ease Harold out of her life. And now she’d use his money to take what should have been hers.
And she hadn’t completely given up on finding the ring. Someone was bound to flaunt it now that the old man was gone. If it had been easy to fool two wily old men, how much easier would it be to get to a green-around-the-gills wise boy.
She lifted the hat and long black veil off her head and set it on her dressing table, then headed down, confident that dear Sarah would have cleared the remains of the wake away by now. A tidy check against everything on her list, well, once she was through with the lawyer. Then her day would be complete. Not perfect, but better than expected.
At the first landing, her phone indicated a text had arrived. She almost ignored it. But the only person who would text her was her snitch. She extracted the phone and read the text.
Frank Baker requested the Zafiro file this morning.
Her hands tightened around the phone, and she had to breathe several times before she could respond.
Did he say why?
The morgue doctor asked for it.
She was about to send thanks, but the last text came:
Burning this phone.
She replaced her phone in her pocket. Was her informant getting uneasy? Well, she’d add that to her to-do list. She wasn’t done with them yet.
She frowned. Should she be worried? Even if that stupid doctor looked at the file, she couldn’t know, wouldn’t connect her to Zafiro. The only person who’d known was Leblanc and Afoniki and they were both dead. But just to be on the safe side, she’d look up the good doctors credentials.
Not because she was worried, exactly. But she did look like him. For the first time, she wasn’t that happy about it.
* * *
Hannah remembered this from her intern days, the peculiar non-silent silence of a hospital at night. The almost eerie hush. All the sounds were distant, and nothing to look at but Zach in the other chair, or the machine monitoring Ingrid’s vitals. And those were so good it was boring. It was finally quiet. Which should have been good for contemplation and mulling, but every time her sister’s heart rate did its little bump up, her thoughts did, too. She wanted to rub her face, but couldn’t. Not in front of Zach. He’d already ignored all suggestions that he go home, but he had the power to order her home.
“That chair extends into a bed. You should try to sleep.” Got a look. “You’ve had a tough few days, daddy.” The word slipped out, leaving her unsure if it was for her she’d used it or a manipulation of him. His expression softened some. “What’s the point of having thirteen kids if you don’t let them help you every now and again?”
Instead of responding to that, he said, “Been thinking about the day she was born.” He glanced around. “Spent a few hours in hospitals waiting for kids to be born.”
Not to mention waiting for two wives to pass, she realized. She had a few memories of her mother, but the images were fixed, like photos, so she wasn’t sure they were real memories or memories of photos. Love and loss ran through their family as sure as the river passed through New Orleans. And her dad had had more than his fair share of losing.
“I used to think I couldn’t miss what I don’t remember that well,” she said, leaning back and keeping her voice low, “and then I get surprised when it hits me.” Her gaze shifted to her sister. “Like now.”
“She’d be here, that’s for sure,” Zach said gruffly. “Twice I married women too good for me. Still surprises me that they fell for my line of bull.”
She supposed she should ask about the current lady in his life, but couldn’t quite manage it. Instead, she tried to imagine him as that young man talking her mom into taking on seven boys and him.
“She loved you,” Hannah said, surprised by the intensity of this sudden memory of her mom saying, “Your dad’s a good man. A real good man.” She hesitated, as her brain did a bounce, wondering how to segue to Charlie and Ellie.
“I—she was a good woman.”
Was it, she wondered, his fault she was almost inarticulate around Ferris? Logan. She needed to learn to call him Logan. She bit her lip, eyeing her dad uncertainly.
“Do you think it’s safe for…them…to…you know. Meet the family.”
He sighed and rubbed his face. “I wish I knew. Depends on the new Calvino, I suppose. The others have no reason to care.”
Hannah considered her brief encounters with Guido Calvino. “I don’t think he would care. It’s not like he’s the abandoned son. Or the stepson.” He was the guy with all the new goodies to play with.
Zach’s brows shot up. “You’ve met him?”
Hannah stared at him. “Well…yeah…it’s Alex’s fault.”
He half grinned, half scowled. “Those coffins. More trouble than they are worth.” He was quiet for a moment, then he surprised her by asking, “Why are you interested in Zafiro?” She must have showed surprise, because he added, “I was there when you asked Frank for his file?”
“Oh, right.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and considered the question. “There’s been a couple of weird things that happened.”
“Weird things?”
She almost told him about being with Guido when he got shot at, but managed to catch herself in time. “Well, some strange shootings, like someone was trying to start a mob war. And there was that brick? The one Charlie didn’t take?”
“The brick. I’d forgotten about that. I wonder if that’s—” He stopped, clamping his lips shut like he regretted the words.
“Wonder…what? If Charlie saw something that day, I need to know.”
“He said he saw a ghost.”
“A ghost.” Not what she expected.
“The ghost of Zafiro.”
Hannah sagged back. “The ghost of Zafiro. Like a ghost ghost?”
“Of course not. It was a woman who looked like him. Shook him up.”
“That would.” She agreed, her thoughts spinning slowly around the idea. In the circle was the name, but all around it were the bits and pieces and some of them drifted closer, as if they wanted to connect…. “X.”
It was Zach’s turn to look confused. “X?”
“We…I…”
“I was there in the morgue,” Zach pointed out. “So your equation wasn’t just to pull Alex’s chain?”
“No, it wasn’t. We wondered if there wasn’t an X,” she stared into the circle again, “an unknown person from the past, a player that no one knew about. But I couldn’t figure out how X could find out about being X until that lawyer died.”
“Lawyer?”
“You probably haven’t seen the news today.” They were all too busy being the news. “But someone killed Raymond Leblanc last night.”
“Really? Now that is interesting. And Aleksi today.” He looked at her. “X.”
“X.” And Hannah had a very strange idea about who X was. Very strange, and yet, who better than a middle-aged woman to move around, unnoticed, unobtrusive, seemingly harmless until she wasn’t harmless? She needed to talk to Ferris. Just in case. It was just possible that Dunstead wasn’t behind her car blowing up. “I’m going to go get a drink. Do you want anything?”
* * *
Gladys managed to keep it together, though she was sure didn’t know how. Even managed to sound grateful long enough to get the lawyer out the door.
Harold had left most of his money to charity. A foundation in his name. To help her aspirations.
Oh, he’d left her something to live on, and she might be able to keep the house.
A foundation for Harold. Administered by his personal assistant.
All done for his wife, for Gladys, because he knew how much it all meant to her.
And if she believed that…
She hadn’t expected him to get the last laugh and with such gentle irony. She remembered that about him now, his very odd sense of humor.
/>
How Belinda must be enjoying this. And he’d made sure it wasn’t worth Gladys’ while to kill her. She still wouldn’t get control of the Foundation.
She hadn’t expected Harold to be quite so…clever. She’d always been able to control him. Until Belinda.
How she wanted to kill her. She ached to kill her. She needed to kill her. She would kill her, but…
She’d have to wait. Be patient. In time, even if she didn’t get the money, she’d make sure Belinda couldn’t enjoy it for long.
She paced past his chess board. It was still set up from when Harold had straightened it the other day. The same day he’d given her that odd look.
She slammed her fist down on the edge, knocking it to the floor. The pieces flew in all directions.
The white queen lay on her side by her foot. The black queen gone under a chair.
The pawns were everywhere.
As they should be.
She lifted her foot and stepped on one, crushing it, then grinding it with her foot.
Oh, how she needed to do that to Belinda. And the lawyer. And—
Her thoughts paused. She went to the computer and looked up Dr. Hannah Baker on the morgue site. For someone so young, her credentials were quite impressive. She was almost as clever as Harold…what was this facial reconstruction on her CV? Was that like facial recognition? Did that mean she might be able to recognize her? It sounded the same.
It sounded like…
She looked down and then stepped on another pawn.
Yes, it sounded like that.
* * *
“Why didn’t you talk to me, ask me about—” Alex stopped, apparently unable to even say the words “dating my sister.”
“Would you have said yes?” Ferris didn’t take his eyes off the road ahead.
Long silence. “Probably not.”
Ferris shot him a look then. “Probably?”
A big sigh from Alex’s side of the car. “So, what—”
“I hope you’re not about to ask me my intentions. I’d only answer that question for Zach. Hannah’s father. I’m sure you’ve heard of him?”
Another long silence.
“Fair point. But if we’re going to keep working together—”
Ferris stopped out front of his place and put the car in park. Only then did he look at Alex. He felt sorry for him. He really did. He didn’t understand. He got that. He didn’t have a sister, but if anyone messed with Hannah’s heart—
“I won’t poke my nose in your…deal with Nell and you do the same for me. We should be good. Right?” If you wanted to deal out advice, shouldn’t be dating the wise guy’s granddaughter, he almost added, but didn’t.
Another big sigh. “Right.” Alex shoved open the door, but halfway out, he looked back. “Just don’t—”
“Not if I can help it.” He didn’t know if Hannah would give him the chance to not break her heart.
Alex clambered out and slammed the door. Stood and watched him drive away. Ferris allowed himself a sigh of relief. That had gone better than he’d expected. He sure wasn’t ready to explain something when he didn’t know what it was yet. Or what Hannah thought it was.
Dang. He rubbed his tired face. A relationship talk. But if he didn’t man up, he might lose her. Was that why guys talked the talk? Because the fear of losing someone got bigger than the other fear? The commitment thing? He knew he probably had some issues from growing up. Who didn’t? Even knew he’d have to face them at some point, if he wanted more. And he did. A guy didn’t have to spend too much time with the Bakers to see that families could be strong. Committed to each other. Better for it. That not trying to have a life with someone was fast track to nothing at all. Since getting to know them, yeah, he could see himself in one of those houses with kids toys out front. Maybe not quite so many. And when he went in that back door? His fists curled around the steering wheel as he waited in the fast food line for his turn to place an order.
Yeah, he could see Hannah there, looking up to greet him. He could see that. But could she?
He ordered enough stuff to feed half the Bakers, hoping there’d be something there that both Zach and Hannah would like, then pulled forward to pay. He was pretty sure that none of them had thought to eat or get them something to eat. He paid, stowed the bags and cup holder and headed back to the hospital. Maybe he should call and warn her?
At a stop light, he pulled out his phone. Dead. Out of battery. Crap. If he plugged it now, maybe he’d have enough charge to pop her a text by the time he’d parked.
* * *
Hannah could tell Ferris’s phone was dead by how fast it rolled over to voice mail. She went ahead and left him a message about Gladys White. Just in case. That clock was ticking so loud, it made her head hurt. She found a vending machine and got a couple of cans of something. Her arm throbbed a steady accompaniment to the clock, but she didn’t dare take anything other than some Tylenol. She needed her head as clear as possible to finish putting her puzzle together.
Even then, her brothers might not take her seriously. As far as Hannah could tell, from the little she actually knew, Miz Cookie’s only mistake to date was being at the crime scene today. She had a thought and stopped to flip through her text messages. Yeah, there was one from Sarah about catering a wake today. It had been a general “text me back if you can” so Hannah hadn’t responded. Even if she hadn’t been in sort of protective custody, she’d have been on duty at the NOCC. Based on the time of the wake, Miz Cookie had come close to missing the funeral.
She didn’t know enough about probable cause to know what it would take. Was pretty sure that “her skull is the same as Zafiro’s” wouldn’t do it. They’d want more.
She pushed open the door to Ingrid’s room. Zach was sitting where she’d left him, but the look in his eyes, the peculiar stillness that managed to be hyper alert, gave her a heads up.
“Please do come in, Dr. Baker. And be sure and shut that door nice and tight behind you.”
Maybe it was because she was so tired—whatever the reason, Hannah didn’t flinch. Just stepped in and carefully closed the door before turning to face Miz Cookie. Though she probably shouldn’t call her that. Took her a minute to pull up her real name.
“Mrs. White. I’ve been expecting you to drop by, but not here.”
She’d picked a good spot for her ambush. She stood on the far side of Ingrid’s hospital bed, so she could cover the door and Zach.
“It wasn’t my first choice,” Miz Cookie said, her voice still dripping sugar. “And you’ve been so hard to kill. I just couldn’t wait any more.”
It looked like her finger tightened on the trigger of the small, silenced automatic she held. The whites around her irises were disturbing. She was edging over into flat-out crazy, Hannah realized.
“But you want to talk about it first,” Hannah said, with sympathy, hoping her girl-to-girl would work well enough for them to catch a break. Zach might be retired, but he was a cop to his toenails and in great shape. “It must have been so hard to keep it all to yourself, to be so alone.”
The finger relaxed. So did her shoulders, just a bit. She nodded, using her free hand to brush her hair back. “You have no idea. When Leblanc told me who I was, everything suddenly made sense. I just…knew”
“Zafiro obviously meant you to have it. None of them can handle all that power. It’s so obvious, once you think about it,” Hannah agreed, her gaze flicking to her dad for just a second. He hadn’t moved. But had Ingrid’s lashes flickered? “But why did he make you wait so long?”
“I wish I knew,” Miz Cookie said, her lips tightening. The hand holding the gun shifted a bit, but not enough. “If I’d been younger…there’s just so much more I could have done.”
The light in her eyes was definitely heading deep into the crazy zone. Lady was barely holding it together. That could be good for them. Or very bad.
“Everything would be different.” Hannah nodded. “I mean, it’s so obvious. You
do everything so well. Your party—”
She smiled. “It was lovely, wasn’t it? So bad of Sarah to put you behind the prime rib. She’s lucky she’s so good at what she does.”
Hannah felt a chill run down her back. “Those boys sure let you down.”
Her eyes lit up. “They were my first, you know.”
“First?” Hannah asked, not sure she wanted to know.
“My first minions. The Red Queen needs minions.”
“Who wouldn’t want some minions?” Hannah managed it without a choke, but didn’t dare look at Zach. “I’m a little surprised about Leblanc, though.” Hannah tried to look eager to learn.
“He was very wicked. I had two of the rings, and he wouldn’t budge. Just because I hadn’t got Afoniki’s. He was hiding from me, you know. And then he told someone. I don’t know who yet. That stupid old man gave it away. Can you believe that?”
“I never met him, but I heard he is not nice,” Hannah said, seriously mainlining late night chats with her sisters. Apparently she’d learned more than she realized while mostly listening.
“Oh, he’s not.”
For just a minute, Hannah thought she’d sit down and chat, but she caught herself.
“Well, no one will be weeping for him,” Hannah said, mimicking her sister, Maddy for all she was worth. Must have been doing pretty good because she got a look from Zach and Ingrid’s lips twitched. “And Roger Dunstead. Well, none of us are fans, that’s for sure.”
“Roger was such a disappointment. It was his idea to blow you up, you know. If I hadn’t been so distracted by my personal loss…” She touched a finger to the corner of her eye. “Poor dear Harold.”
There was a note in her voice about him that was interesting, to say the least.
“He let you down, too, didn’t he?” Hannah picked Laura to mainline now. She was really good at getting them to share things they hadn’t planned.
“Bad enough him donating all his parts to science. Science,” she repeated with disgust, “but he…he created a foundation. Can you believe it? He didn’t even call it after me, though he claimed it was to help me with my aspirations. I don’t even get to manage it.”
Dead Spaces: The Big Uneasy 2.0 Page 20
