Grace Cries Uncle (24 page)

I asked one of Terrence's officers to let Bennett know that I'd been called away and not to worry. McClowery left Wilson in charge and took off for the Emberstowne Police Department, where Rodriguez and Flynn were booking their prisoners.

By the time I arrived at my house, the place was quiet. No police cars. No nosy neighbors. The only thing out of the ordinary was Tooney waiting for me, just inside my front door. He had Bootsie in his arms.

He held the outer door open and showed me where the lock had been broken. “Sorry about this, Grace,” he said. “They jimmied the big door, too. You're going to have to get them fixed right away.”

“I will,” I said as he handed Bootsie to me. I nuzzled her neck.

“Except for the doors and the mess,” he said, “I think everything is all right. They didn't destroy anything. At least, not that I could tell.”

“What happened?”

Tooney gave me a quick rundown. Eric and Nina Buchman had successfully disarmed my burglar alarm but were unaware of the second alarm, which had sounded at Tooney's house when they broke in.

“I didn't know who they were, of course,” he said. “Not until Rodriguez and Flynn showed up. That's when it finally made sense.”

Tooney knew that Liza and I were at Marshfield this evening for Bennett's reception, so when the second alarm sounded, he wasted no time investigating. He'd first alerted the police, then trekked via the underground passage to my house to see what was going on.

“I could hear them upstairs,” he said. “They were searching through the bedrooms, making a racket opening and slamming drawers and doors.”

“Weren't you afraid the police would burst in and shoot you by mistake?”

He shook his big head. “I called Rodriguez directly and told him I'd be here,” he said. “I also told him the front door was open, and that I'd unlock the back if he wanted.” Tooney gave a self-conscious shrug. “I mean, you just had the whole house all fixed up. I didn't want them to ruin another of your brand-new doors.”

“You're amazing.”

“Anyway,” he continued, waving the air as though his thoughtfulness meant nothing, “I could hear the two of them shouting to each other from different rooms. I got the impression they were looking for something. Sounded like they were searching for pieces of a key, but I didn't understand what that meant.”

“They didn't realize you were here?”

“I know how to keep quiet.” Tooney pointed to Bootsie, who purred contentedly against my chest. “I picked her up straightaway so she'd stay safe. I think the little girl knew exactly what was going on. She didn't make a sound. I stayed on this floor, listening to everything they said. They were
mad at each other, that's for sure. I got the impression they expected Liza to be here.” He blinked, pointed to the closed front door, and asked, “Didn't she come back with you?”

“Long story,” I said.

“I wish I could stay until your roommates get back,” Tooney said, “but I told Rodriguez I'd meet them at the station as soon as you got home.”

“I totally understand. Do Bruce and Scott know what happened?”

“Once the cops arrived and made the arrest, I called them at the shop. They both wanted to close up and rush back here, but I told them the situation was under control.”

“Thank you, Tooney. You have no idea what a good thing you did tonight.”

“The pieces Eric and Nina were looking for, you know what they are?”

“Another long story,” I said.

“For another time.” He grabbed the doorknob and started out. “Oh, one more thing. Eric and Nina did a number on your primary alarm system; it's all torn up. I tried to get the company to send a repair team tonight, but the order has to come from you. Give them a call as soon as I leave. Tell them it's an emergency.”

“I'm sure I'm safe.”

“You never know, Grace. Promise me you'll call them right away.”

“I promise.”

The minute the door shut behind Tooney, I raced upstairs. I had to see what damage had been done. Now that we were alone, and the house was quiet again, Bootsie struggled to escape my arms. I let her down as I reached the top landing—the spacious square area where we'd positioned a wing chair, end table, and small stained-glass lamp. Bruce and Scott's door was to the left and Liza's to the right. My room was farther down the hallway, also on the right. We had two smaller rooms up there that sat empty.

All the doors were wide open, even Bruce and Scott's, which they usually kept closed. I peeked in. The overhead light was on, but otherwise nothing appeared to have been disturbed. I couldn't tell for sure, of course, but the bed was made, the dresser tops were tidy, and the door to their washroom was shut. I could imagine Eric having thrown the door open, realizing his efforts were better focused elsewhere, and moving on.

Liza's room was trashed. My sister could never be accused of being a neat freak, but this mess was far beyond anything she'd created before. Dresser drawers had been yanked out and upended on the bed and the floor. Liza didn't own a lot of clothing of her own, so the items strewn about were mostly the extra sheets and guest items I kept stored there. Her bed was unmade and stripped bare, the mattress and box spring tipped off the bed frame.

What made me saddest were the gouges on the newly painted walls where they'd pulled things down and tossed them aside. I picked up one piece of artwork, a landscape my mother had painted when she was very young. The gold metal frame was ruined. At least the painting had survived.

With a heavy heart, I made my way past the two vacant rooms, steeling myself against the disaster I might find in mine. Before I made it halfway down the hallway, however, I remembered my promise to Tooney. I pulled up my cell phone to dial the alarm company.

The woman on the other end of the line was brisk, professional, and efficient. When I explained the evening's events she assured me that a repair person would be dispatched immediately and that I would be hearing from him or her soon. I thanked her and hung up.

Deep breath, Grace
, I said to myself and then stepped into my room.

So devastating was the wreckage that it sucked my breath away. Maybe because I'd left it clean and uncluttered, this damage seemed far worse than what I'd found in Liza's
room. “No,” I said, closing my eyes and wishing that, like a bad dream, it would all go away in a blink.

It didn't.

Behind me, Bootsie yowled a protest, then wound herself between my ankles, offering whatever solace she could. I picked her up.

With my hand over my mouth, I took a tentative step forward, seeing every piece of clothing I owned scattered across the bed, my dressers, the floor, looking like rummage sale offerings. I didn't wear a lot of jewelry, but what I had had been dumped and strewn about as well. My bed hadn't been upended the way Liza's had. Perhaps the police arrived before they'd had the chance to toss it.

When my cell phone rang, I jumped. Swallowing my stinging anger in an attempt to sound calm, I answered. “Hello, Bennett,” I said. “How are things going over there?”

“Mr. Tooney called me, Gracie. Are you all right?”

“I'm fine. The excitement was over by the time I got home.” I struggled to keep things light. “Seems that Tooney saved the day again. The alarm you insisted on worked perfectly, and both Eric and his girlfriend have been arrested.” I forced a chuckle. “McClowery must be ecstatic at this turn of events.”

“Is Bootsie all right?” Bennett asked.

“She's fine. She's keeping me company while I clean up. There's a lot to put away, unfortunately. I may have to cut this conversation short.”

“I'm leaving Marshfield right now. I should be there in less than a half hour.”

“You don't have to come, Bennett. I'm fine. Really I am.”

“This is not up for discussion. You've been victimized. You shouldn't be alone.”

I wrinkled my nose as I took in the shambles that used to be my personal haven. “Maybe you're right,” I said. “Thanks.”

When we hung up, I returned to the hallway, left my
phone on the table out there, and lowered Bootsie into the wing chair. “I'm going to need two hands,” I said to her.

One by one, I slid my drawers back where they belonged. I began replacing the contents of the first one when the doorbell rang. I hurried down the stairs to answer, thinking that if this was the alarm company, they weren't lying about being tops in customer service. More likely, however, it was a neighbor being nosy.

Remembering to check before opening the door, I peered out the side window as I flicked on the outside light. It didn't work. I flipped the switch up and down several times as though that would make a difference. Nothing. Eric and Nina had apparently broken that, too.

I couldn't make out much beyond the fact that two people stood outside my door. By their shapes and sizes I guessed them to be the brother-sister team who lived across the street and whose names I couldn't keep straight.

Prepared to politely turn them away, I swung open the door.

“This really isn't a good t—”

Jim Tuen pulled open my outer door. “Good evening, Grace.”

Daisy brushed past to storm into my home. “Where's your sister?”

By the time I reacted, Jim Tuen had shut the front door and positioned himself in front of it. He wore a dark puffy parka, blue paper booties, and purple latex gloves.

“You were right, Grace,” Jim said to me. “Bennett Marshfield is a most genial man. I'm sorry I must cause him such sorrow.”

“Sorrow?” My mouth was so dry it was like swallowing sandpaper. “What do you mean?”

“Bennett regards you highly,” Jim said. “It's a shame to rob him of someone he holds so dear. But then again, I may be doing him a kindness. This way, he might never discover your subterfuge.”

Behind me, Daisy trooped through the empty rooms, calling Liza's name.

“She's not here,” I said. “She's—” I stopped myself.

Daisy returned to the front foyer. She, too, wore blue booties and purple latex gloves. The part of my brain that remained heedless of danger pointed out that these were just
like the ones our phlebotomists from Lucatorto Labs had worn. I swallowed. Bennett was on his way.

“She's where?” Daisy asked.

“Get out of my house.” I took a threatening step toward her. “Get out now.”

Neither of them reacted with anything that resembled fear. “We aren't leaving until your sister fulfills her promise.”

Jim reached under his coat. He drew out a weapon I recognized as an ancient Maori Mere club. Bennett had two in his collection, but I'd never personally handled either one. Resembling an elongated, flattened bowling pin but made of jade, it had rounded edges and a thick center head. Mere clubs were highly effective bludgeons. One well-aimed blow could easily crush an opponent's skull.

I took a step back, pointing to the control panel next to my front door. “I haven't disengaged the alarm. The police will be here in minutes.”

Jim's eyes tensed. He handed the club to his wife, who swung it with authority. “Do not test me,” she said.

“Your alarm is not operational,” Jim said. “Don't toy with us. Where is your sister?”

Daisy wielded the club with ease, slicing the air in a show of power. “More important, where are the pieces she and Soames stole from us?”

“Stole from
you
?” Realization clicked in. More than killer collectors, these two were the black market leaders responsible for stealing the treasure to begin with.

Daisy gave a dark laugh. “Your sister is a fool. She offered us our own property tonight. But then, like her boyfriend before her, she disappeared before completing the transaction. Had we known you were part of this charade . . .”

I didn't bother to correct her.

“No matter. Hand over the pieces. We know they're here.”

All I could think of were McClowery's warnings. Of the ruthlessness of Mr. X. He would be surprised, I thought, to
discover there was a Mrs. X involved, too. Daisy held the club, but the look in Jim's eyes made me fear him more.

“We are not without mercy,” Jim said. “Give us the three pieces and I will deliver a quick death. One blow. You will not suffer.”

“I don't have them here. Liza . . .” I tried to come up with a plausible enough lie to keep them talking until Bennett rang my front doorbell. That might be enough to distract them, enough for me to jump Daisy and wrestle the Mere club from her weathered hands. She was old, I was young. I could do it. I had to.

“Where are they?” Daisy was getting jumpy.

“Liza took them,” I said. “When we got back, I mean. She said something about finding a safe place. I didn't even know she had them until then. I wanted to stop her but she threatened me.”

“Who was she meeting?” Jim asked.

“No one. She wasn't meeting anyone.” The last thing I needed was for them to believe the jeweled pieces were lost to a buyer. Then they'd have no reason to keep me alive. “She said she would be right back.”

Daisy and Jim exchanged a look. “I saw her speaking with Malcolm Krol this evening,” Daisy said to her husband. “I told you we should have insisted she leave with us. For all we know, she's with him now.”

I heard a car door slam out front.

Daisy looked out the window. “It might be her sister returning home.” She returned to my side and grabbed my arm. “Away from the front door. We don't want her running out if she sees us.”

So much for the element of surprise I'd hoped for. “She won't.” I worried now that if Bennett pushed through my unlocked door, he'd become a target. I needed to stay between them and him.

“Don't fight me,” Daisy said. She clutched my upper arm
with her free hand. Though dulled by the purple latex covering them, her nails bit into my skin.

Jim pinched back of my neck, spinning me into the parlor. “Get in there.”

Almost on cue, the doorbell rang.

Daisy waved the club. “Not a word,” she said.

I held my breath, hoping it was the alarm company repairman. Hoping that, when no one answered the door, he would report my non-response and alert the authorities.

Bootsie twisted around the doorway into the room. She snaked sideways against the baseboard, her back arched, her pupils wide, watching us as she tiptoed along the room's perimeter.

The doorbell rang again. Moments later, pounding on the window. Though muffled, I heard my name. “Gracie?”

“Who is that?” Jim asked.

“I don't know. A neighbor, probably.”

Daisy's nails pinched tighter into the soft skin of my upper arm. “Bennett calls you Gracie.”

“Everybody calls me that.”

“She's lying,” Daisy said. “Bring him in here.”

By the time Jim started for the door, Bennett had pushed his way in. “Gracie.” His voice was like thunder, echoing in the foyer. “Where are you?”

Bootsie jumped and hissed, startling Daisy enough for her to loosen her grasp of my arm.

I lunged for the Mere club, fingers writhing along the smooth stone, fumbling for leverage. She took less than a moment to react but just as she tried to wrench it away from me, my hands clamped around the glossy club's narrow neck. Bare skin triumphed over smooth latex. I heaved hard, twisting it from her.

Daisy shouted for her husband. I heard Jim shout, too.

“Run, Bennett! Get out,” I roared as I shoved Daisy to the floor. I wobbled backward, off-balance from the skirmish. In the moment it took to regain my footing I registered
two things: Daisy, staring up at me with such hatred I could almost see waves of heat rising from her body, and sounds of a struggle coming from the foyer. I raced to the front door.

Furious, Bennett was on his hands and knees in the foyer. Jim had his back to the door, watching me with wary eyes.

I reached out a hand to help Bennett to his feet. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” He got up quickly and stood next to me. “What's going on?”

Daisy stepped into the foyer. The two faced us, eyes murderous. I hefted the Mere club and stared back. “Heavy,” I said. “Now I understand why these are such effective weapons.”

“You don't know how to use that,” Jim said. He took a tentative step forward.

“I swing at your head, you go down. What more do I need to know?”

“That is a spiritual weapon,” Daisy said. “You haven't yet learned its secrets.”

“Give it to me.” Hand out, Jim took another step forward. “I promise we will leave you in peace.”

I swung the club back and forth the way I'd seen Daisy do earlier. “I might not have a spiritual connection with Maori weaponry,” I said, “but I am a championship softball player. Oh, you didn't know?” I didn't give them a chance to respond. “Been playing since I was a kid.” I pantomimed swinging for the fences, feeling the weight of the club nearly wrench my arms from their sockets. “You don't want to mess with me.”

Jim spread his lips into a painful smile. “There are two of us. And only one club.”

Daisy moved closer.

Bennett placed a hand on my shoulder. “Grace has taken down assailants far younger than either of you,” he said. “If you want to go in peace, prove it. Leave now while you have the chance.”

As though operating on some silent signal, they rushed me. I swung the heavy club, smashing Jim's shoulder with such force I nearly lost my footing. He toppled sideways, catching himself with one arm before scrambling back to his feet.

When I swung at Daisy, she spun, dodging the blow and using the momentum to launch herself at me again. As I had done earlier struggling to get the club from her, she grappled for control now, her fingers inching toward the narrow handle.

Bennett had taken advantage of Jim's imbalance to grab the man's parka and twist it up and around his head. Grunting, he shoved the disoriented man into my front door and pulled his right leg out from under him. The blue bootie slipped smoothly against the hardwood, sending Jim facefirst to the floor.

I shot a foot into Daisy's leg, hitting her straight in the knee. She cried out, and crumpled to the floor.

For about five seconds all Bennett and I could do was breathe, our gasps coming hard and heavy. Daisy wrapped her hands around her knee and wailed.

Jim started to roll toward us, clawing his way out of the coat. I held the club like a baseball bat and whacked him in the side. He doubled over in pain. The heavy jacket had softened the blow, but it had been enough to keep him subdued. For now. I didn't want to crack his head with the weapon, but I couldn't allow the man to get up.

Shaking, I said, “Call the police, Bennett. Tell them to hurry.”