A Wrongful Death (28 page)

They both knew that it mattered little if Darren knew Swarthmore, because he most certainly would know who Darren was. He was one of the most respected physical therapists in the country. The interns he trained were guaranteed the best jobs, and the rehabilitation clinic he headed was considered the best on the west coast. Frank placed the call on the kitchen phone. Barbara stopped playing with her wine.

After he had explained what was wanted, Frank answered a question or two, listened, then shook his head. "No, don't call me, call her. I'm done being middleman as of now. Thanks, Darren."

He frowned at Barbara. "He'll get in touch with Swarthmore. He does know him, and he'll call you back after they talk."

She murmured her thanks and returned to wine gazing. "I plan to get into that house and make a deal with Sarah Kurtz, and I need Swarthmore to know ahead of time. Still working on the minor details."

"No, you won't," he said flatly. "They might shoot you on Sight."

She shook her head. "No, /they/ won't. You see, I have something Sarah wants. I have the research papers. Just a few details to think through first. You know what they say about where you can find the devil — in the details." She stood. "I need to think about this. Is Bailey going to check in tonight?"

"He'll call. He said if you plan to stay here overnight and not be out wandering about, with the three stooges locked up for the time being, it should be safe enough. He'll stay home."

"When he calls, tell him I want him first thing in the morning, will you? Make it over here. And how about if I make up the bed in the guest room for Elizabeth? What she's doing is going to take a long time, I'm afraid."

He nodded, and she walked out. He knew she would pace the upstairs hallway until dinner, and he knew she was not likely to say a bit more about what her intentions were until she was good and ready.

Elizabeth praised the casserole highly, then asked, "How did you keep the green beans so crisp? When I add them to a casserole they get overcooked and limp."

"Blanch them first, and add them toward the end," Frank said. "Works every time."

Barbara had a fleeting image of shouting "Boo!" at beans on the counter and watching them blanch. She felt confident that it was not what Frank meant.

"How far along are you with your report?" she asked Elizabeth.

"On my way to the shelter, with the woman driving my car. It shouldn't take much longer. I find it much harder and slower to write the material than to edit it. I had no idea how long it would take."

"No problem," Barbara said. "Why don't you go bring it up to the next stopping point and I'll shove dishes into the dishwasher. We might both be done at the same time and go on to phase two. Oh, would you mind staying over tonight? I have nightshirts, gowns, a robe, new toothbrush, everything you'd need. It could be late before we finish."

Elizabeth hesitated, then nodded. "If you want me to."

Barbara was in the living room making notes when Elizabeth came out the next time. She looked very tired.

"Take a break and let's just talk a minute," Barbara said.

"Coffee? You look as if you could use some."

"Good old lifesaving caffeine," Elizabeth said, sinking down into a chair. "Yes, please."

The carafe and cups were on the low table. Barbara poured, and passed the cup across the table, then refilled her own cup. "The next part gets a little tricky," she said. "I don't want to get your mother involved, for openers."

"God, no!" Elizabeth said. "I was going to tell you I wouldn't add a word about her."

"We're still on the same page," Barbara said, smiling. "Okay, try this. You called your mother and told her what happened. She put you in touch with a relative who lives in Canada, and the relative agreed to come collect Jason and let him visit her awhile. Leave out all names and locations in Canada and references to Spain. Does that work for you?"

Elizabeth considered it a moment, then nodded. "It's not quite right, but pretty much how it happened. That's okay."

"Then on to what you were planning, what you were deciding to do. Like come back to Eugene, rent an apartment, call Leonora to bring the passports, get in touch with me, things like that. Not a thing yet about taking out the stitches or the perm. Just what you were thinking when you knew Jason was going to be safe."

She reached across the table and patted Elizabeth's hand. "See, I warned you it would be a late night. Think you can finish it?"

"As long as the coffee holds out. It's like an editorial deadline, or even more like grad school with a paper due at the crack of dawn. You're a demanding teacher."

"And you're passing with flying colors," Barbara said. "I'll make sure the carafe is kept full at all times until we're both ready to tuck it in. Can you keep drinking it right up to bedtime? I can. It's a true addiction, I guess."

"Me, too," Elizabeth said. "Maybe that's one of the things we all learned in grad school, how to develop a caffeine tolerance, whether we learned anything else or not."

Elizabeth didn't linger long, but returned to the study and the second half of her story. Frank came from it carrying two of the recent books he had been reading. He was eager to finish the book he was writing on case law, and get on to what he had come to see as the most exciting of the three he intended to have published. The first one had been published, the second was nearly complete and the third was clamoring to get out of his head. It would be the most fun of them all, he had decided — closing statements, and how each side presented and interpreted the same evidence according to the needs of either the defense or the prosecution.

He put his books down on an end table and regarded Barbara. "The coast is clear for now. So what are you up to?"

"We agree that next Tuesday the boys in blue will come around with an arrest warrant for Elizabeth. Right?" She didn't wait for his affirmative response. "I don't intend to let that happen. And we agree that Elizabeth has to stop this charade of being Leonora Carnero. Right? I do intend to let that happen. In fact, I intend to orchestrate it myself." Her phone buzzed and she held it up, not quite apologetically. "Excuse me.

When she heard Darren's low, musical voice, she felt the same kind of frozen-in-motion sensation she had felt both times before when first seeing him. She walked from the living room.

"Hi, Darren," she said. "Did you call him?"

"It's all set. He said it would be best for you to call tonight because he's hard to reach during working hours. He's a busy man. He'll cooperate, if he can without harming Dr. Diedricks. Got a pencil? I have his cell phone number for you.

"One second," she said, going to the notepad by the kitchen phone. "Okay." She jotted it down, then said, "Thanks, Darren. I really appreciate that."

"One other thing," he said quickly. "Don't hang up yet. I asked you a question a while ago. Forget it, scrub it, consider it unasked. Too much, too soon. A different question. I don't expect an answer now, just whenever you're ready. I'll be waiting. Barbara, will you give us a trial run? Move in with me? Give us a try at making a go of it? If it doesn't work, leave. I love you very much." He hung up before she could think of a thing to say.

She became aware that she had not moved for a long time only when her hand began to ache, and she realized how hard she was gripping her cell phone. Carefully she put it down on the table and flexed her fingers. She crossed the kitchen and got a glass of water, then returned and sat down. Gary Swarthmore, she thought, remembering she was to call him that night. She shook her head impatiently, picked up her phone and dialed the number Darren had provided.

When she reentered the living room minutes later, Frank put down the book he had been reading, tented his fingers and said, "Well?"

"Gary Swarthmore says there's nothing wrong with Dr. Diedricks's head, his memory, his heart or his nerves. It's the rest of him that's wearing out. He's eighty-nine. I asked him to find out if Diedricks brought a Luger home from Germany and if it's still where it should be. He'll do that and call me tomorrow. We'll go on from there. One of the details I'm working with. Then I need for Hoggarth to tell us if my eavesdroppers called someone at the Kurtz house in Eugene the day I got the call from Elizabeth. If that's a yes, and if Gary's answer fits, I'm ready to go. I'm pretty sure I already know the answer to both questions."

"Pretty sure isn't good enough to £0 off half-cocked "he said darkly. "A suspicion won't make it, and you know that."

"But if I'm right, I have to be ready because time's running out fast, Dad. And you know that."

"So tell me the rest of it, and I'll tell you why it's a rotten idea."

"Probably you will," she murmured. She was telling him minutes later when Elizabeth came in. She helped herself to coffee this time.

"Break," she said tiredly. "I'm almost done, but I keep thinking of things I should have included earlier. I can't imagine how people did it before computers."

Frank laughed. "I don't know. You get used to a quill pen and think it's pretty super, compared to the chisel and slab of stone your grandparents used."

"I rather liked the rice paper and paintbrush method, myself," Barbara said.

Elizabeth grinned. "How about alphabet soup letters on a paper plate. Now that's a real challenge."

"One you tried, I bet," Barbara said, laughing.

"You win."

"You know, I don't expect a literary masterpiece," Barbara said after a moment.

"I can assure you that you won't be disappointed. I can meet low expectations every time."

Elizabeth finished her coffee, stood and stretched and went back to work.

"She'll do," Frank said approvingly.

"I know. Well, back to my game plan..."

They were still talking when Elizabeth finished. "I saved it in the file name Elizabeth," she said.

"Great. I'll burn it onto a CD and make a printout. But now, you're off to bed. I'll show you where," Barbara said.

Frank stood. "Let's sleep on it all and talk in the morning. I'm going to bed, too."

Upstairs, Barbara showed Elizabeth to the guest room, pointed out the bathroom and a drawer of toothbrushes, clean towels, and then led the way to her own room.

"This is great," Elizabeth said, gazing about. "He keeps it for you?

"Ready year round," Barbara admitted. "Nightshirt or gown? Robes in the closet. You pick. Mine's here on the bed."

She chose a loose nightshirt, the kind Barbara preferred, and a robe, then paused at the door. "You're so lucky. So many people love you, it must make you feel very special."

Barbara looked at her in surprise. "You mean Dad? Isn't that pretty normal for a lot of us?"

"Not just him. Obviously you're the center of his life, but Shelley and Alex both worship you, and Dr. Minnick looks at you in that special way. Darren adores you. Even Bailey, for all his dour looks, is really focused on you. I watched them all at dinner the other night, and I thought how lucky you are to have so much love in your life. I don't think that's normal at all. Most of us have very few, mostly family, we can claim truly love us. Good night, Barbara." She left, closing the door behind her.

Chapter 26

The picture of Jason Kurtz was on the front page of the newspaper again the next morning. The reward for information had been raised to fifty thousand dollars. Another statement from Sarah Kurtz was prominently displayed, complete with pleas for the ones holding her beloved grandchild to release him, and for the authorities to serve Barbara Holloway with notice of arrest if she didn't reveal what she knew about the abduction.

Barbara scanned the article and tossed it aside without comment. Elizabeth was watching her curiously.

"After breakfast, we'll go into the study and look at that printout," Barbara said. "There are two places where I think you should elaborate on what you were thinking and feeling. Just a line or two. Then on to part two, taking out the stitches, the perm, what happened after you came to Eugene up to the present."

Elizabeth moistened her lips. "Why do I have the feeling that this is in preparation for a time when I might not be around to tell it in person?"

Taken aback, Barbara realized that Elizabeth had summed it up perfectly. It sounded exactly like that. "Not my intention," she said. "I promise you that is not in the game plan. Think of this as bait, no more than that. Remember when I asked you why Sarah Kurtz was coming on like a worried grandmother thinking only of her missing grandchild? You said she was playing her role, but I think it goes beyond that. She has prepared the ground for if and when the police determine that whoever had a tap on my phone called someone in the old Kurtz house the evening of the murder. I believe she will claim that, of course, she hired detectives to locate you and her grandchild. I don't want to underestimate her."

Elizabeth put down her fork. "You really think it was one of them? Sarah, Terry or Lon Clampton? You really believe that?"

Barbara nodded. "That's what I believe. And I'm preparing my own ground with your statement as bait."

Elizabeth pushed her plate back, to Frank's regret. At least, she had eaten part of the omelette he had prepared. The doorbell sounded. "That's probably Bailey. I'll get it." He left the table.

"Tell him I'll be out in a minute or two," Barbara said, getting up, with most of her breakfast still on her plate. "Come on," she said to Elizabeth. "If you're done, let's get at it again. Back to the salt mines for you, my girl."

She showed Elizabeth the two places where she thought it needed another line or two, and then said, "Label the next section Part Two, new page, and finish it. So far you have four pages. When you're done, we'll paginate it and make a new printout. At the very end, I'd like for you to include today's date, and copy a few headlines from today's newspapers, to prove the point. A couple from page one, then skip to an inside page and copy a couple more headlines along with that page number. Okay?"

"Are you going to tell me what you intend to do with all this? I mean specifically."