by Lee Savino
Thirty-Three
After pausing a minute on Olympia’s doorstep, Cora finally rang the doorbell. With the sound still chiming throughout the large row house, she pounded on the door for good measure.
The heavy door opened and the mistress of the house herself opened the front door. Olympia wore a tight red leather top and black skirt. Barefoot, she still had enough height to look down her nose at Cora.
“Mrs. Ubeli. Do you need something? I’m getting ready and need to be on my way to court.”
“I need to speak with your guest. Andrea Doria.” Cora kept her backbone ramrod straight. At this point, she had everything and nothing to lose.
“What business do you have with her?” Olympia’s tone was borderline rude.
“Personal business. I mean her no harm. I just want to talk.” Then Cora tilted her head. “Although I do wonder what would happen to a lawyer if they found a fugitive hiding in her home…”
Olympia’s nostril’s flared at the threat but she opened the door.
Cora stalked past her into the house, straight down the hall and into the large living/dining room that had been the scene of an orgy the last time she’d been here.
“Darling, do you have anything besides dairy milk?” A voice called from the kitchen. A pleasant tenor voice that could be modified either up or down.
The voice of Philip Waters.
The person who appeared in the doorway had a bald head, but full makeup. Andrea Doria, halfway to her full persona.
The drag queen stopped when she saw Cora approaching.
“Hello, Ms. Doria. Or do you prefer Mr. Waters?”
Olympia had followed Cora into the room. “I told you not to shit where you eat,” Olympia said to the tall crossdresser, then glared again at Cora. “I need to get to court. Flax milk’s in the fridge.” She stalked away.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” Cora said to Philip Waters/Andrea Doria. “You paid me the same courtesy.”
Philip/Andrea asked, “How could you have known who I was?”
“Your ring. The one with the large onyx stone. You wore it the night of the party. There was a lot going on, but I never forget a statement accessory.”
Philip/Andrea raised one perfectly penciled eyebrow. “Are you mocking me?”
“Not at all. I don’t mock people, especially if I’m planning to ask them for makeup tips.” Cora smiled.
A small smile appeared on the fabulously contoured face. “So why are you here?”
“You said it yourself when you kidnapped me. I’m easy to talk to. I’m here to lay some things out in the open and see if we can come to an agreement.”
The smile disappeared. “Your husband sent you.”
“No, he didn’t. We are very much separated, and I am very much alone.” She held up a printout of the picture of Marcus and Lucinda and handed it over. “This was taken yesterday. I haven’t seen my husband in a couple of weeks.”
The queen studied the picture and flashed Cora a look of pity. “Very well. Let’s talk. Coffee?”
“Please.” Cora followed the cross-dresser into Olympia’s kitchen, and leaned on the beautiful quartz countertop of the large island as her former kidnapper went to the cabinet and took down two mugs.
“For the time being, I’d appreciate it if we kept to my disguise. I never thought my recreational activities would serve a serious purpose, but then I found myself hunted by my allies and wanted for double homicide.” Philip/Andrea poured the coffee and winked at Cora. “So call me Andrea.”
“Pleased to meet you, Andrea.”
“You’re rather brave to come here, after the last time.” Andrea placed a steaming mug on the island close enough for Cora to reach it.
Cora studied Andrea. “I don’t think you ever meant to hurt me. Although, FYI, kidnapping me didn’t give you any points with Marcus. He killed the last guy who did that.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
“So, you’re wanted by the police.” Cora took her mug and fixed it with flax milk and honey.
“You going to turn me in?”
Cora shook her head, tested her impromptu flax-milk latte, and then added more honey. “Turn you in, Ms. Doria? For what? They want Philip Waters.”
“So this is a game.” Andrea paced along the long island, keeping it between them.
“The more I thought about it…I don’t think you did it. Poisoning the mayor, threatening Marcus—any of it. I think someone’s setting you up.” Cora sipped her creation again and smiled. “Perfect.”
Andrea fixed her with an intense stare. “Who do you think did it?”
“Someone who stands to gain from Marcus and the mayor fighting with you.”
“That could be any number of players.”
“Who stands to gain the most from Marcus and Zeke cutting ties with you?”
“Who would you guess?” Andrea didn’t touch her drink, but folded her long arms across her chest.
“My mother.”
Andrea did a double take. “Fuck the Fates, how did I not see it? Apart from the blonde hair…” She shook her head. “I assumed she died along with Karl. They always send Ivan as their contact when they try to negotiate with me.”
“She didn’t die. She took me into hiding. When I came out, Marcus found me.”
Andrea’s sculpted eyebrows all but hit her hairline as she took a drink from her mug. “And you ended up married to him? I bet that’s some story.”
“For another day,” Cora said. “What’s important now is that my mother is back. She’s the brains behind the Titans, she hates Marcus, and she wants to regain control of the New Olympus rackets.”
“Well, young lady, you’ve figured it all out. You a gangster now?”
“Nope, just married to one.” Cora shrugged. “And the daughter of another. But I’m neutral ground. No one expects anything from me. That is my weakness, and my strength.” She watched Andrea ponder this. “Why didn’t you tell us you found the rest of the shipment?”
“I found it Thursday night, at Olympia’s party. She’d recovered it for me. By morning, I was a wanted fugitive.”
Andrea sighed. “And now Ubeli is pressing me on all sides, not to mention the mayor’s legal arm. Our only hope of holding New Olympus from the Titans is to align our interests. Yet I am stuck here. I can’t return to my ships.”
Her eyes glittered and Cora was reminded of how dangerous this person was. Andrea/Philip owned the seas and had for decades. “It’s been too long already. If things don’t break, I will give my men orders to extract me with whatever level of violence is necessary. Lives will be lost on both sides, and your husband and Sturm will hold me responsible. Then I will be forced to deal with the Titans.”
“Which is exactly what my mother wants.”
Andrea nodded. “At the same time, I’m prevented from extending an olive branch to Ubeli, because then the Titans will know I’ve chosen sides.”
Cora thought about this. “Is that why you’re snatching Shades and going through the motions of war? To look like you’re fighting with Marcus, when you’re really not hurting anyone, just keeping his men prisoner somewhere?”
Andrea’s face was scarily blank. “How do you know I didn’t kill them?”
“I don’t. Except that Slim’s body hasn’t been found anywhere. And if I were you and wanted to threaten Marcus, I’d leave a body. So…” Cora met Andrea’s stare head-on with one of her own. “Where is he?”
Andrea laughed. “You’re certainly giving new meaning to the phrase, ‘Out of the mouth of babes.’” She leaned forward on the island opposite Cora. “I suspect you only look like a babe, though.”
“My aura of innocence helps. And it’ll work to your favor. I can be a bridge between you and Marcus, and I’m here to tell you that’s what I’m willing to do.”
“Your husband has broken ties with you.”
“I still have his ear. And I have it on good authority that he prefers an alliance with you to all-out
war. He will listen to reason.” At least, she hoped he would. At this point, Cora thought more of dealing with Sharo than Marcus, the lying two-faced SOB.
“Very well.” Andrea drummed her fingers against the quartz countertop. “If you were me, how would you go about breaching the gap between you and Ubeli, as well as the mayor, when we can hardly be in the same room together without killing each other or our enemies finding out?”
Cora put down her mug and smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Thirty-Four
Cora and Andrea had just finished their conversation when Armand walked in.
Son of a— So this was where he’d been hiding out all this time? His hair was adorably tousled, adding to his sleepy dishevelment Bare-chested and barefoot, he stopped when he saw Cora standing in the kitchen with Andrea.
“Cora, what are you doing here?”
She didn’t think, she just threw her empty coffee mug straight at him. Fortunately for him, her aim was horrible.
Armand jerked out of the way as the mug hit the rug near his foot and bounced. Open mouthed, he gaped at her.
Smiling, Andrea left for the dining room. “I see you two have some things to talk through.”
Cora stood glaring at Armand.
“Did you just throw a mug at me? Who are you and what have you done with Cora?” Armand moved forward but she threw a hand up.
“Sleeping pills, Armand?”
He stopped dead in his tracks and turned white. “Oh, gods, I forgot I gave you some. I didn’t know they weren’t sleeping pills, I swear.”
“Well I trusted you and I took them. Once even when I was still at Olivia’s.” She could feel the blush coming over her face, but didn’t lose her grip on her pique. “And had…dreams. Crazy, crazy dreams. I thought I was going out of my mind. Another night I even sleepwalked!” Right to her estranged husband’s apartment.
“So…nothing happened? With Anna, or even Olivia?” he perked up, and Cora could see the lesbian fantasy start up in his mind’s eye. To stall it, she looked around for another mug to throw.
He came at her, and she tried to dodge him, then wrestled with him as he grappled with her. Even with his lean build, he still had enough strength to catch her questing hands, and force them down.
“Are you really very mad at me?” He gave her hurt, puppy dog eyes.
She tried to stomp on his foot and missed when he jumped away. “Yes!”
“Cora, I didn’t know. I swear. Olympia had them, and I raided them, thinking they were her sleeping pills. They looked the same. I’m sorry.”
“You’re lucky nothing happened when I took them.”
“Nothing? Not even with Marcus?” He looked hopeful.
She wriggled away and he let her, but watched her in case she lunged again for a mug. He didn’t deserve an answer. Especially one that was too painful to give right now. “Haven’t you seen the news? He left me for his old flame. That Lucinda bitch.”
“No way,” Armand gasped.
She pushed the photo of Marcus and the woman towards him.
“This has got to be photoshopped. There’s no way…damn. He’s wearing the tie you gave him for Christmas.” Armand rubbed his hand through his unruly hair, making it stand up even further.
“Marcus is looking for you,” she told him quietly. “After what happened that night at Olympia’s party, Marcus put it together… Remember when I told you I’d sleepwalked? Well I walked right to Marcus’s door and…wasn’t behaving like myself.”
Cora felt her cheeks blaze hot. “Anyway, Marcus made the connection after I told him I’d gotten the pills from you. He connected you to the shipment.”
“I know. I heard he was looking for me. That’s why I’m hiding out here with Andrea. Olympia’s being a good sport about all of it.”
“What Marcus doesn’t know is that Waters already has his missing shipment back. I’m going to tell Sharo today. So you’ll be off the hook.”
“The Mayor knows, too,” Armand said. “Waters allowed me to tell him.”
“Good. So you’ll help me with the next phase of the plan.”
“Operation Win Back Marcus?” Armand said, and lunged to grab Cora’s wrists again when she started to go for her ceramic weapon of choice. This time he whirled her around so her arms were crossed in front of her. For a moment she struggled but he just crushed her tighter with his wiry biceps on either side of her arms.
She sagged forward.
“I want to help you.” His voice was muffled in her hair. “That, and I bet Olivia a grand that you two would be back together within a month of the party.”
Cora couldn’t help it, she laughed. He let her go, crossing to the other side of the island, keeping it between them. His hair was wild, sticking up in every direction, but his brown eyes were wary.
“Will you forgive me?”
“Not a chance,” she said. “You invite me to a party, I get drunk and wake up to an orgy!”
He winced.
“Before that you accidentally drug me! And help my husband corner me at a party I helped you throw.” The more she spoke the more she was geared up to charge around the island and tackle him. “And you tip my husband off to my new address and he ends up buying the entire building…”
“Now, that, I’ll take credit for. Also, you’re welcome.”
“Just shut up,” she said. “I don’t know whether to hug you or put a hit out on you.”
“Definitely all for hugs here.”
“At this point, you’re too valuable to kill.”
“Good to know.” He leaned on the island across from her, back to his shit-eating-grin. “Seriously, I’m sorry. Tell me what I can do to make it up to you.”
“Well, other than never giving me medical help ever again, there’s one thing.”
“Name it.”
She sobered. “I need to pull off this fundraiser.”
“Done. My design team is working on it as we speak.”
“That’s not all I need help with.” She bit her lip, wondering how far to bring Armand in.
“There’s two sides to this fundraiser,” Andrea Doria said from the door. She stalked towards the coffee pot for a warm-up. “One is for the dogs. The other,” she motioned with the coffee pot, “is for the city.” She looked pointedly at Cora, who sighed and explained to her friend.
“Are you on board with the plan?” Armand asked Andrea when Cora was finished.
Andrea nodded. “It’s risky. And we only have two weeks to pull everything together, and to make sure it doesn’t fall apart. No easy feat.”
“Yes,” Cora said, “but it’s going to work.” It has to.
“For all our sakes,” Andrea said. “I hope you’re right.”
Thirty-Five
Cora paced her apartment while waiting for Sharo to answer his phone, then said, “Waters found the missing shipment two weeks ago. Zeke Sturm can confirm. Also, Waters is keeping the Shades alive. He can’t communicate with you because he’s stringing the Titans along until you can meet. You need to act like you’re at war with Waters to fool the Titans, but don’t escalate things further.” She took a deep breath to finish. “Don’t ask me how I know all this.”
A pause, then, “Why didn’t Sturm report this to us sooner?”
“Why do you think?” Cora retorted. Waters and Armand had discussed the Mayor at length with her. Apparently Zeke Sturm was a consummate politician, waiting to see which way the wind blew before doing anything or choosing sides.
Sharo’s sigh told her that he understood.
“Give me two weeks,” she said. “I’ll have more for you then.”
“Woman, what are you planning?”
“Two weeks,” she repeated and hung up.
The phone rang again and she let it go to voicemail, bustling around her apartment. When her door buzzer went off she shook her head and muttered to Brutus, “See? Can’t just sit and do as they’re told, but they expect me to…”
She chec
ked the peephole and froze when she recognized the spiky blond head.
“I know you’re in there,” Waters’ bodyguard breathed.
“Did Andrea send you?” she called through the door.
“Poor Cora. Husband left her all alone.” Spike Hair tilted his head and she saw his bloodshot eyes. Checking the locks, she leaned against the door, heart pounding. She jumped when he rapped on the door. “Open up, little girl. I’ll keep you company.”
“Please, please go away,” she whispered to herself. Her cell phone lay on the countertop, but she couldn’t bring herself to move and get it.
Sensing her tension, Brutus came to her side. She curled into him, but he stood at attention, vibrating with alertness. When Spike Hair spoke again, the dog barked, three times. A warning.
Shaking, Cora kept hold of her dog. Had Waters sent his thug to threaten her? Could he be trusted to follow through on the plan, or was he playing her? If so, why send Spike Hair to threaten her like this?
As she waited for him to leave, she ran through all her memories of Waters. In every instance he’d acted like a gentleman, a man of his word. But he’d said it himself—with the Titans closing in, he’d be forced to turn against Marcus. Did that include her? Damn it, she should never have volunteered the information about who her mother was. What if he’d contacted Demi and made a deal that included turning Cora over to her?
“You can’t hide forever,” the thug outside the door said finally, and when Brutus relaxed, Cora knew the threat was gone. She squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe Waters wasn’t backing out of their deal and his man was acting independently? Or was she just deluding herself like the naïve idiot she’d always been? Still, it was ages before she would feel safe enough to open the door.
“Two weeks.” She hugged Brutus, and hoped she would last that long without her husband’s protection.
Thirty-Six
“You ready, belle?” Armand called, and Cora straightened from the front of the rented stage where she was pinning up bunting.
