All Roads Lead To Murder

by Lynn Bohart

  “My God…she winked at me,” Blair blurted in alarm. “What the heck did that mean?”

  “I don’t know, and I don’t think I want to. Hey, Rudy,” I said. “Since you guys have it covered in here, I think Blair and I should take a stroll out to the entrance again and check the hallways.”

  “Good idea,” Rudy responded.

  Blair and I weaved through the crowd toward two sets of double doors and pushed out into a wide, carpeted hallway. We took a look around and then headed back towards the main entrance.

  We had just passed the men’s restroom when a deep voice stopped us.

  “Blond becomes you, Julia.”

  We turned to find Graham flanked by two of his body men. His eyes twinkled as he eyed my blond wig.

  “How come you waited until now to show this sassy side of yourself?” he asked with a sly grin.

  “I just wondered what it would be like to be irresistible. Speaking of…where’s Kitty?”

  The smile on his face fell. “She went ahead to the table. She doesn’t really like these affairs. My guess is that she’ll be on her phone most of the night. She’s in a bidding war on eBay for an heirloom piece of jewelry she wants.” He gave a slight shrug as if it was something he would have to endure.

  “I may have liked these types of events more than Kitty does, but I was never very good at keeping my mouth shut. There’s always a tradeoff,” I replied.

  He laughed. “That’s true.” He leaned in, coming close enough to overwhelm my senses with the seductiveness of his cologne. “You may have run a bit at the mouth, Julia, but I’ve never known a more articulate woman. I miss that.”

  When my eyebrows lifted, he stepped back. Graham’s dark hair had turned mostly gray, and his tanned skin had deep lines from years on the ski slopes. But, like fine wine, he had weathered well; he was still one of the handsomest men I knew. He gave me a rueful smile and then turned to Blair.

  “Nice to see you, Mrs. Wentworth. I hope you ladies find what you’re looking for tonight. Stay safe.”

  He stepped away from us and continued back down the hall, his body men following.

  “Well, well, well, Miss Julia,” Blair said, watching him go. “If I didn’t know better, I’d have to say that right now you have not one, not two, but three men on a string.”

  I turned to her. “Huh? Who’s the third guy?”

  “Jake?”

  “What about Jake?” Rudy asked through the earpiece.

  “Nothing,” I snapped. “Forget Graham. Forget Jake.” I started to walk away. “C’mon, we have work to do.”

  Blair and I made our way back to the entrance where people were still streaming in. We decided to hang back a few minutes to watch the newcomers. I glanced to my right and saw José leaning against the wall. He looked casual enough, but kept glancing in my direction.

  “Our bodyguard,” I said, nodding toward him.

  “I noticed,” Blair said. “He ought to join the CIA. I never see him following us, yet he always seems to be wherever we are.”

  Someone touched my elbow. I turned to find David. “Anything yet?”

  “No. But the others are in the banquet room, including Aria and Goldie. We thought we’d check around out here. Any news on who you think Yoda is?”

  He shook his head as his eyes scanned the room. “No. The CPD has been checking into Senator Owens’ background and can’t find anyone with a nickname like that.”

  “Could it be someone who looks like Yoda?” Blair asked.

  David shrugged. “The reference doesn’t seem to ring any bells with anyone. It could be a real name, a nickname, or a call name picked just for this job.”

  “What about Amy’s stepfather? Anything on him?” I asked.

  “No. Detective Mankiewicz said they’re checking into his business, though. We’ll see.”

  “Well, you’d better be ready to rock ‘n roll,” Blair said, nodding toward the entrance. “Here comes the man of the hour.”

  We followed her gaze to a large press of media who had surrounded someone entering the building. It was Senator Owens, and he was answering their questions on the fly. As he came through the doors and moved into the broad foyer, dozens of press, security guards, and staff followed. It was like watching a hoard of locusts.

  “Clearly, he isn’t taking this threat seriously,” I said.

  “Whether he does or not, he doesn’t seem to care,” David said.

  “And he doesn’t know yet about Amy?” Blair asked.

  “No,” David replied. “Which I’m sure we’ll get ripped about later. But we thought if we told him, he would become even more careless.” David put his fingers to one ear. “Hold on.” He listened a moment. He had an earpiece in, too. It was probably linked to Detective Mankiewicz. “Okay,” he said. He turned to me. “I’ll be back.” He gestured to José, who moved over to stand between me and Blair. “Stay close.”

  He left us and disappeared into the crowd. I turned to Blair.

  “Let’s get closer to Senator Owens. I’m curious how he’s handling this.”

  The three of us followed the locusts to the check point at the entrance to the banquet hall. That’s where security stopped the press. Senator Owens paused, and a female reporter threw out, “Senator Owens, what are you doing to help find your missing daughter?”

  The crowd grew quiet, as a look of irritation swept across his dark features.

  “I love my daughter and have every confidence the FBI will find her and keep her safe. But I have a responsibility to keep working on behalf of this country and my constituents. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

  And with that, he turned and disappeared into the banquet hall.

  “What he really meant to say was that he has a responsibility to elevate his image so he can run for President,” a woman next to me mumbled.

  I turned in her direction, but she had moved into the crowd with her companion, laughing. I watched them a moment, until a tall, slender man cut in front of me.

  “Dr. Ford,” Blair said. “What are you doing here?”

  The man turned in surprise, his blue bow tie matching the blue of his eyes.

  “Mrs. Wentworth…hello. How are you?” A faltering smile spread across his face. He glanced at me, but turned his attention back to Blair. “I thought it was only your husband who followed politics.”

  “It is. I’m here with Julia,” she said, referring to me. “This is Julia Applegate. In fact, I just recommended she come see you about a broken tooth.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear about your tooth. I saw your husband a few minutes ago.”

  “Ex-husband,” I corrected him.

  “Of course,” he said. “Are you a fan of Senator Owens? I understand he’ll be the keynote speaker tonight.”

  “No. Not really. We’re just…” I paused, realizing I didn’t know what to say. He filled in the blank.

  “You’re just good Republicans,” he said, finishing my sentence.

  I nearly choked. “Well, uh, actually…”

  “That’s right,” Blair said, linking arms with me. “Where’s Ruth?”

  “Uh…I’m in town for a meeting and was invited by a friend. Ruth is at home with her caregiver,” he said with a warm smile. He shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Well, it’s nice to see you again, Mrs. Wentworth,” he said with a nod. “I hope you enjoy the dinner.”

  “You, too,” Blair replied.

  Dr. Ford left us and moved into the crowd. I turned to Blair. “That’s your dentist?”

  “Yes. He’s a great guy,” she said. “He and his wife, Ruth, bought Dorrie Watts’ old house.”

  “Why were you surprised his wife wasn’t with him?”

  “She has MS and he rarely leaves her side. Except to work, of course.”

  We pushed our way back into the banquet room and moved off to one side for a moment. My eyes were scanning the room.

  “By the way, how is your tooth?” Blair asked.

  I automatically s
wept my tongue across the inside of my mouth. “Okay. I’ll probably need a crown, though. By the way, he seemed nice.”

  Blair snatched a stuffed mushroom off a tray of hors d’oeuvres as a waiter passed. “He is. He adores his wife and is really good with kids, although they don’t have any.”

  “And he’s in Mercer Island?”

  “No. Downtown Seattle,” she replied, swallowing the remainder of the mushroom. “Damn, that was good. I’m hungry.”

  We began moving back into the crowd and Blair found another waiter.

  “I’ll give him a call,” I said. “We should have asked him when he’d be back in town.”

  “Well, trust me, you’ll love him,” she said, swallowing a small chicken bite. “He has a great sense of humor and is a collector like you.”

  We pushed through a dense group of people.

  “What does he collect?” I shouted after her.

  “Mostly science fiction memorabilia. His favorite is Star Wars.” Blair stepped sideways past a circle of men deep in conversation. “He has posters, action figures, lunch boxes—you name it. I think he met Harrison Ford at one point, and their last names made him feel simpatico.”

  “I wonder why I don’t have that connection with the Wizard of Oz.”

  “Oh, you do. I think of you as Glinda.”

  “At least not the Wicked Witch of the West.”

  We found an empty space next to a wall and stopped, still scanning the room. She grabbed another mushroom off a passing hors d’oeuvres plate.

  “Well, Dr. Ford likes to tease me. He knows I’ve been divorced three times, so he always says goodbye by saying, ‘May divorce be with you.’” She chuckled. “It’s pretty funny. And then I respond with, ‘Funny, you are.’”

  She laughed until I grabbed her elbow, nearly knocking the mushroom out of her hand.

  “What are you doing?” she snapped.

  “Blair, why were you so surprised to see Dr. Ford here tonight?”

  “Because he’s not a Republican,” she replied with an innocent shrug.

  “Damn!” Rudy said into the earpiece.

  “Why?” Blair asked me.

  “Star Wars?” I said, giving her a ‘don’t you get it?’ look. “Funny, you are?”

  Count to three.

  Blair’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Oh my God! You don’t think Dr. Ford is…”

  “Yes, I do.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “God, I can’t believe our bad guy is my dentist,” Blair murmured. “After all, he’s had his hands in my mouth.”

  “Forget that,” I snapped. “We need to find him again.”

  “Where are you guys?” Rudy said into the earpiece.

  “Banquet room. We’re heading back to the entrance where we saw him.”

  Blair and I spun around to go against the incoming traffic. Once we were in the foyer, we stopped and looked around.

  “Do you see him?” I asked.

  “No,” she said, craning her neck.

  “Damn! Why don’t you go down that hallway? And check the vendor hall. We’ll go this way. Text me if you see him.”

  Blair nodded, and we split up. José still shadowed me, so I stopped to explain.

  “Did you see that guy who stopped to talk to us a few minutes ago?”

  “A tall skinny guy?” he said. “Blue bow tie.”

  “Yes.”

  “Right,” he said, already beginning to swivel his head to survey the crowd. “You think he’s the Yoda guy?”

  “Yes. While you look for him, I’m going to alert David.”

  I wore my purse strap across my body; I pulled out my phone to text David with the information. He didn’t answer. I tried again. No response. A nervous flutter took up residence in my chest.

  “He’s not answering. Let’s go.”

  We moved down the long hallway, weaving our way through people near the bathrooms. Finally, we were alone in the hallway and stopped by a group of stanchions that blocked off the side of the building under construction. There was no Dr. Ford anywhere in sight.

  With a sigh, I turned around.

  “Not here,” I said so the others could hear. “Rudy, he might have gone into the banquet room by one of the other doors. Keep a look out. He’s tall and thin, balding, with a blue bow tie.”

  “Will do,” she replied.

  “You, too, Aria.”

  “I’m looking,” Aria said. “I’ll let Goldie know.”

  “Let’s go back,” I said to José.

  We retraced our steps to the main foyer, where I texted Blair. She appeared a few minutes later from the other direction.

  “Any luck?”

  “No,” she replied, still scanning the crowd. “But the vendor hall is closed.”

  “I’ve got the others looking for him in the banquet hall.” I turned to José. “Why don’t you check the men’s restroom? We’ll wait here.”

  “I’ll check both of them,” he said, heading towards the vendor hall first.

  My phone pinged with a text from David.

  “Where are you?”

  “Main entrance,” I texted back.

  “I’ll be there right away.”

  While we waited, Blair and I searched faces in the crowd. People continued to stream in through the main entrance, past security and up to the registration tables to get their seat assignments. Since the main set of elevators sat near the front doors, many people were coming up from the underground garage.

  “We have to find him,” I murmured.

  A moment later a familiar voice called out and David emerged from the crowd.

  I rushed over to him. “Did you get my text?”

  “Which one?” he said, a little out of breath.

  “We think we know who Yoda is,” I said in a lowered voice.

  His brown eyes popped open. “No. Sorry. The group of protestors outside has grown, and a couple of fights broke out between the competing sides. It’s getting ugly out there.”

  “Can they keep it under control?” Blair asked, coming up behind me.

  “I think so. But it’s just one more thing for us to deal with. Anyway, what do you know?”

  I explained the encounter with Dr. Ford and why we believed he was the man we sought.

  “That’s a stretch,” he said.

  “No, it’s not. Besides, what else do we have?”

  “And Ford shouldn’t be here,” Blair said. “He’s not a conservative, but a big liberal.”

  David pulled out his cell phone. “Okay, do you know what direction he went?”

  I pointed down the hallway. “That way. But he’s not down there. José and I just checked. He could have gone into the banquet room by the side door. We were just about to go in and look for him.”

  “Do you think he suspects anything?”

  I shrugged. “Not from us. He and Blair just greeted each other, and then he left.”

  “What does he look like?”

  I described him. Meanwhile, José returned from checking the men’s rooms.

  “He’s not in either one,” he reported. “I saw a couple of guys with blue bow ties. Just not your guy.”

  David nodded. “Okay, I’m going to report in to Detective Mankiewicz and the FBI. We’ll see what we can find out about him. What’s his first name?”

  “Mark,” Blair replied. “His office is in Seattle.”

  “Will you shut down the dinner?” I asked.

  “Not until there’s a clear and present danger. It looks like you may be the only chance we have of finding this Yoda character, though. But that’s as far as you go. I mean it. Find him and report in to me immediately. Don’t go near him.”

  “Okay. I promise. And we’ll stay together.”

  David left to find Detective Mankiewicz, while we headed for the banquet room. The second time we entered, Rudy and Doe met us. The room was full now, and the band blared out some Barry Manilow tune.

  Most people were seated and the wait staff had beg
un to serve dinner. Yet, there were still long lines at the bars and people continued to mill about. After all, the room was filled with people with money, and the politicians were working them.

  “Julia!” Goldie interrupted us. Her voice came through garbled on the ear wig. “I think I see…um, I think it’s…very, very hot in here.”

  I had to think a minute. Hot…temperature…Monty! I reached out and grabbed Blair’s arm. “Goldie thinks she sees Monty.”

  “Where are you, Goldie?” Rudy asked.

  “Near the front bar…on the side…room with…band.”

  I scanned the other side of the room and found Goldie two-thirds of the way down the room, holding a tray.

  “Where’s Aria?”

  “She…um, had a bit…digestive problem. She gave me…ear thing, but I dropped…in a glass of wine, so…not working…good.” She tapped her ear, sending claps of thunder through the coms.

  “Goldie, stop that!” Rudy snapped, as we both cupped our ears in pain.

  “Sorry. Anyway… over there,” Goldie said, nodding to her left.

  My gaze shifted toward the bar where a man in a tuxedo stood next to a heavy-set woman wearing a long-sleeved gold dress. The man was partially blocked.

  “C’mon,” I said to my group. “We need to get closer.”

  The five of us circled the room, coming up alongside the bar. The man Goldie ID’d was facing the room, staring at a spot in front of the podium. Senator Owens was seated at the table directly in front of the stage.

  “I’m not sure that’s him,” Blair said in a whisper. “No beard. And he looks, I don’t know, taller.”

  As if he’d heard her, the man turned and vanished into the bar crowd.

  “Shoot!” I turned to my cohorts. “C’mon. We need to get up higher.”

  We weaved in and out among the throng of drinkers and hustled up the stairs behind the bar. We came out onto the second floor landing near the middle of the room.

  Only a few people stood on the walkway watching the festivities below. We ignored them and spread out along the railing, scanning the room.

  “Anyone see him?” I asked.

  “No,” Doe answered. “The room is just too damned big.”