Another Notch in the Beltway (19 page)

He turned her to him and pulled up her coat collar, tucking in the flap at her chest.

“Don't fuss.” She playfully batted his hands away. “I'm perfectly fine.”

He kissed her nose. “Your nose is even cold.”

“Stop,” she giggled, taking his hand and leading him through the dizzying array of items that encompassed the six-floor structure.

They passed everything from items used in early medicine to tinsmithing and dairying.

“Can't imagine being bled.” She shuddered, looking at the display of primitive equipment and basins designed to collect blood.

“I agree with you, love. Seems counter-intuitive. I noticed in several of your books, heroes or heroines extract promises from their significant others to make sure they're not bled when serious illness has be fallen them.”

“Yes…”

She stopped suddenly and looked behind her.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing, I guess, a feeling that someone is watching.”

He turned to look and saw no one. “Place is kind of creepy and cold. It might make a person feel like they're being watched.”

“Ghosts,” she said in a mock ominous tone.

“You never know, lass. Someone who was bled with one of these instruments of torture could still walk in the land of the undead.” He trickled his fingers down the back of her neck.

She squirmed away from him, laughing.

“MP, I'm sure I saw someone, a fleeting glimpse,” she said seriously.

He looked again. “Maybe one of the stray schoolchildren hiding from a parent chaperone.”

She shrugged and took one more furtive look around.

“Lunch,” he suggested.

“An offer I can't refuse.”

They walked to the parking lot. She smiled up at the sky, enjoying the sun on her face.

“Wait in the car,” MP said quietly.

“Wha—”

“Please,” he said softly but with insistence.

She reluctantly took the keys.

****

“What are you doing here, Mr. Irving?” MP asked in a less than friendly fashion.

“I… I was taking advantage of the nice day,” John Irving stammered nervously, eyes darting. He was sitting in a nondescript gray Ford Taurus with the driver's window rolled down.

Lenore's comment about him being gray seemed to fit.

MP eyed the camera around his neck.

“That's good. I hate to think you were following Lenore.”

“Wh… Why would you think that?”

“I think you know why,” MP said, reaching for the dangling camera.

John Irving hit the window up button but somehow the camera strap got caught, and the camera hung outside the window.

Michael Patrick grabbed it as Irving hit the gas to back up the car. The tension on the strap caused it to break free of Irving's neck, leaving the camera in MP's possession.

Irving slammed the car into drive and headed right for MP. It was clear his intention was to mow him down. MP skillfully avoided injury by launching himself over the three-foot retaining wall that ringed the parking lot.

Tires squealing, Irving sped off.

“My God,” Lenore breathed, running up to him. “Are you okay?” She wrapped her arms around him.

He was about to chastise her for not waiting in the car but stopped short when he felt her trembling. “I'm fine,
a chuisle
. I'm fine,” MP soothed and kissed the top of her head.

“I was so frightened—not at first, but when he backed up and then tried to run you over.” She was crying.

“Shh, love, I'm well, truly.” He guided her back to the car.

“Lenore,” he said, stopping and turning her to him. “Lenore, sweetheart, stop crying. I'm fine. Look at me.” He tilted her chin up to his face. It broke his heart. “See,” he said kindly.

She nodded mutely and inhaled a deep breath.

“Better?”

She nodded again.

When they got to the car, he opened the door for her and helped her in. Once inside, he said as lightly as he could, “You did see someone—not a ghost or an apparition, but a gray man. He's stalking you, Lenore.”

She laughed weakly. He could see tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

“Should we go home?”

“Yes,” she mustered a smile. “Let's go home.” She attempted to fasten her seatbelt, but her hands weren't steady, so he took the latch and did it for her.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” she said thickly.

He handed her the camera and began to back out of the parking spot.

“Oh my God,” she exclaimed, causing him to reflexively slam on the breaks.

He looked at her looking at the camera view screen and saw she was chalk white. He pulled back into the spot and took the device from her still shaking hands.

MP started going through a slide show of the pictures and quickly determined that Lenore was not the only stalkee. There were pictures of her son, of her and Nate, of Morris and Maxwell, and of him and Lenore. But Irving was clearly fixated on Lenore. There were easily a hundred pictures of her.

“
A chuisle
, where did you meet Irving?”

“Barnes and Noble Café. The place was busy. I had a table for two and was by myself with coffee and a brownie. He asked if he could join me. MP, he didn't seem weird or creepy or anything at all. Told me he worked in information technology, had his own company, JIT. Short for, you guessed it, John Irving Technologies.” She gave a bitter laugh. “I checked him on Google. He seemed legit and real. He lives in a rented condo a few miles from my house.”

“How long did you date him?”

“Eight weeks or so.”

“Does that include the time you were hoping he'd disappear?” he asked, putting a little levity in his voice.

“No. That was about another four weeks.”

“Determined to see you again. I'd have gotten the hint if a woman gave me the brush-off for four weeks.”

She gave him a wry smile.

Before he continued, he asked, “You okay to go?”

“Yes. Sorry for the histrionics, but something came over me when I thought he might hurt you. Even when I knew you were okay. I was swamped with relief and feelings I couldn't control.”

“It's alright. I'm flattered you were so worried about me.”

“Let's go home,” she said.

“Yes.” He reached over and took her still trembling hand and brought it to his lips.

“Do you want to contact the police?” he finally asked.

“Honestly, if I thought he was stalking me for me, I'd get a restraining order. But the cops would want the photos, and while there are a fair number of me, there are a significant number of Morris, Maxwell, and Nate, not to mention you as well. The photos of Nate, Morris, and Maxwell were taken in Philly.

“Morris told my attorney he thought they were being followed. Maybe I was followed and led Irving to them.”

“Smart girl.” He squeezed her hand and noted the color was coming back to her face.

“Question is: Is he a professional PI who was hired to get close to me to gather information, or did someone hire a PI who approached JI to obtain information on me or from me?”

“Good questions. Someone in Maxwell's camp?”

“Since they're taking photos of Morris and Maxwell, it's most likely not one of them. Could be Corrine Kennedy Maxwell, his long-suffering wife or raving lunatic bitch, depending on whose side you take.”

He could tell the initial shock and fear were wearing off. Her mind was engaged and her emotions in check. “No cops?” he asked.

“I'm going to call my attorney and see what he has to say. If we go to the cops, this will go public. If I go to Connor, he can get to Morris. Morris has resources to check these things out.”

“But Lenore, whether you think so or not, Irving is obsessed with you. There are easily a hundred pictures of you taken on different days. He's been watching you.”

She let out a big sigh. “I don't have time for this.”

“You need to think about it, love. I don't want anything happening to you any more than you want anything happening to me. Fair enough?”

“Yes. But if that's the case, then it's more likely someone approached him after the fact, and he, himself, is not a PI. I guess it's better for my ego, too. I'd hate to think the only reason a gray man would be interested in me was because he was paid to be.”

He started to laugh. “It might be he was paid to come on to you and then fell for you. The anger he exhibited at the house was real, Lenore.”

“Maybe he was only angry because my no longer dating him put a monkey wrench in his plans.”

He glanced at her sideways. “Maybe you should write romantic suspense. You seem to be able to see all the angles.”

“Best twist would be if I set up the entire thing.”

“Tell me you didn't.”

“No, I didn't,” she said, almost hostile.

“There now, the color is fully back in your pretty face,” MP said.

“You were baiting me?” She gave him a playful shot to the arm.

“Guilty as charged. It's not me either,” he added.

“Afraid I'd over think this and decide it was?”

“Even if you did, you'd ask this time, wouldn't you?”

“Fact is there's no reason to think it. Why are you setting out to make me angry?”

“I like you feisty.”

She laughed a real, honest-to-goodness laugh, and it warmed him. “I love you, Lenore.” He lifted their joined hands and brought hers to his lips.

“Jesus,” MP said as they turned onto Lenore's block.

There were an ambulance and three cop cars in front of her house. She didn't even think Yardley had three cop cars.

“What now?” she asked.

“There's your gray man's car.” MP pointed to the gray Ford.

“Oh God, MP, Maria was there alone.” She was moving toward both the door and hysteria with equal velocity.

“Hang on.” MP grabbed her arm before she could let herself out of the car. “You go charging in like that and you're likely to get yourself shot.”

“You have a point,” she said, taking a steadying breath to get herself under control. “But let's hurry. I need to make sure Maria is okay.”

“Let me come around your side before you get out.”

He could see the pulse point in her neck beating way too fast. The only time he wanted to see that was when she was aroused—by him—certainly not from fear and terror.

“Lenore, love, take a deep breath. If Maria needs you, you can't fall apart.”

“You're right. I'll keep it together.”

He shoved the camera under the seat. “Ready?”

“As I'll ever be.”

“If need be, tell them he was following you but nothing more. Someone may have seen the confrontation at the museum and put two and two together,” MP said.

“All right,” she took his hand as if it were a lifeline.

A cop met them at the door.

“I'm the owner,” she took out her wallet to show him her driver's license.

“Appears you've had a home invasion,” the officer said.

“Is Maria all right?” she asked as calmly as she could, but her voice trembled.

“Yeah, she's fine. Can't say the same for the perp. She said he was a former boyfriend of yours.”

“Is it John Irving? His car's outside.”

“Was John Irving. He's dead, ma'am.”

She felt MP's arm come around her waist.

“How?” she asked in barely a whisper.

“According to your housekeeper, he demanded to be let in. Said he left something of his in your office and wanted it. She told him to come back, and he pushed his way in, shoving her into the kitchen counter. She told him if he didn't leave, she'd call the police.

“He took exception to that and came after her. A scuffle ensued, and she got her hands on a knife from the butcher block on your counter and stabbed him. Her aim was good. Dead on to the heart,” the office said with admiration.

She started shaking ever so slightly. MP's arm tightened around her.

“Can we come in so the lady can sit down?” MP asked.

“Yeah sure, but stay out here. The kitchen is where the altercation took place. Body is still there. Waiting on the ME, and then he'll be taken to the morgue.”

“Please, she needs to sit down,” MP said again. The cop looked at her and quickly moved out of the way.

“Can I see Maria?”

“Once they're done questioning her.”

“Are you sure she's all right?”

“Physically yes. She's understandably upset.”

Lenore nodded.

“Do you know what he left here that he wanted so badly?” asked the officer.

“No, he never brought anything here. He was only in my office once.”

“Were you still seeing him?”

“No, I haven't dated him in several months.”

“Why did you stop dating him?”

“He wasn't my type. No particular reason other than I knew the relationship wasn't going anywhere.”

“He wasn't violent or anything? Didn't hit you or assault you in any way?”

“No, but he was following me, us, this morning.”

Lenore explained what happened in at the museum, leaving out the part about the camera.

“He tried to run you down?” the officer asked MP.

“Yes, but I jumped over a small retaining wall that surrounded the parking lot, and he took off.”

“Did you make a report in Doylestown?” he looked between MP and Lenore.

“No, I wanted to move on,” Lenore said. “I figured if he followed me again, I'd get a restraining order.”

“Attempted murder is serious.”

“I guess we didn't think about it that way,” MP said.

The cop looked thoughtful then asked, “How did he take the break-up?”

“I never told him it was over. He came to the house and let himself in. He found MP here and had angry words for me. Then stormed out slamming the door. That's when he was in my office, the one and only time.”