Left Behind: A Novel Of Earth's Last Days (26 page)

He didn’t want to lie. “Partly,” he said.

“That never bothered you before. You used to encourage me to request your flights and sometimes you checked with me to make sure I had done it.”

“I know.”

“So, what’s changed?”

“Hattie, please. I don’t want to discuss this by phone.”

“Then meet me somewhere.”

“I can’t do that. I can’t leave Chloe so soon after we’ve had a burglary.”

“Then I’ll come there.”

“It’s late.”

“Rayford! Are you brushing me off?”

“If I was brushing you off, I wouldn’t have invited you to dinner.”

“With your daughter at your home? I think I’m getting set up for the royal brush.”

“Hattie, what are you saying?”

“Only that you enjoyed running around with me in private, pretending like something was going on.”

“I’ll admit that.”

“And I do feel bad about your wife, Rayford, I really do. You’re probably feeling guilty, even though we never did anything to feel guilty about. But don’t cast me aside before you have a chance to get over your loss and start living again.”

“That’s not it. Hattie, what’s to cast aside? It’s not like we had a relationship. If we did, why are you so interested in this magazine guy and the Romanian?”

“Everybody’s interested in Carpathia,” she said. “And Buck is the only way I know of to get to him. You can’t think I have designs on him. Really! An international newsmaker? Come on, Rayford.”

“I don’t care if you do. I’m only saying, how does that jibe with whatever you thought we had going?”

“You want me to not go to New York and to forget about both of them?”

“Not at all. I’m hardly saying that.”

“Because I will. If I had ever thought there was really a chance with you, I’d have pursued it, believe me.”

Rayford was taken aback. His fears and assumptions were correct, but now he felt defensive. “You never thought there was a chance?”

“You hardly gave me any indication. For all I knew you thought I was a cute kid, way too young, fun to be with, but don’t touch.”

“There’s some truth to that.”

“But you never once wished it was something more, Rayford?”

“That’s something I would like to talk with you about, Hattie.”

“You can answer it right now.”

Rayford sighed. “Yes, there were times I wished it was something more.”

“Well, glory be. I missed my guess. I had given up, figured you were an untouchable.”

“I am.”

“Now, sure. I can understand that. You’re in pain and probably worse because you were considering someone besides your wife for a while. But does that mean I can’t even fly with you, talk to you, have a drink with you? We could go back to the way things used to be, and except for what’s in your mind there still wouldn’t be anything wrong with it.”

“It doesn’t mean you can’t talk with me or work with me when our schedules coincide. If I didn’t want to have anything to do with you, I wouldn’t have invited you over.”

“I can see what that’s all about, Rayford. You can’t tell me I wasn’t going to get the ‘let’s be friends’ routine.”

“Maybe that and a little more.”

“Like what?”

“Just something I want to tell you about.”

“What if I told you I’m not interested in that kind of socializing? I don’t expect you to run to me now that your wife is gone, but I didn’t expect to be ignored either.”

“How is having you over for dinner ignoring you?”

“Why did you never have me over before?”

Rayford was silent.

“Well?”

“It would have been inappropriate,” he muttered.

“And now it’s inappropriate to meet any other way?”

“Frankly, yes. But I do want to talk to you, and it isn’t about brushing you off.”

“Is my curiosity supposed to force me to come now, Rayford? Because, I’ll tell you what, I have to decline. I’m going to be busy. Accept my regrets. Something came up, unavoidable, you understand.”

“Please. Hattie. We really want you to come. I want you to.”

“Rayford, don’t bother. There are plenty of flights to New York. I won’t go through any gymnastics to get on yours. In fact, I’ll make sure I stay away from them.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Of course I do. No hard feelings. I would have liked to have met Chloe, but you probably would have felt obligated to tell her you once nearly fell for me.”

“Hattie, will you listen to me for a second? Please.”

“No.”

“I want you to come over Thursday night, and I really have something important to talk to you about.”

“Tell me what it is.”

“Not on the phone.”

“Then I’m not coming.”

“If I tell you generally, will you?”

“Depends.”

“Well, I know what the disappearances were all about, all right? I know what they meant, and I want to help you find the truth.”

Hattie was dead silent for a long moment. “You haven’t become some kind of a fanatic, have you?”

Rayford had to think about that one. The answer was yes, he most certainly had, but he wasn’t going to say that. “You know me better than that.”

“I thought I did.”

“Trust me, this is worth your time.”

“Give me the basics, and I’ll tell you if I want to hear it.”

“Absolutely not,” Rayford said, surprising himself with his resolve. “That I will not do, except in person.”

“Then I’m not coming.”

“Hattie!”

“Good-bye, Rayford.”

“Hat—”

She hung up.

“I wouldn’t do this for just anybody,” Steve Plank said after he and Buck had thanked Marge and headed to separate cabs. “I don’t know how long I can hold them off and convince them I’m you pretending to be someone else, so don’t be far behind.”

“Don’t worry.”

Steve took the first cab, Buck’s George Oreskovich press credentials on his chest. He was to go directly to the Plaza Hotel, where he would ask for his appointment with Carpathia. Buck’s hope was that Steve would be immediately intercepted, arrested as Buck, and clear the way for Buck to get in. If Buck was accosted by authorities, he would show his identity as Steve Plank. Both knew the plan was flimsy, but Buck was willing to try anything to keep from being extradited and framed for Alan Tompkins’s murder, and possibly even Dirk Burton’s.

Buck asked his cabbie to wait about a minute after Steve had left for the Plaza. He arrived at the hotel in the midst of flashing police lights, a paddy wagon, and several unmarked cars. As he threaded his way through onlookers, the police hustled Steve, hands cuffed behind his back, out the door and down the steps.

“I’m telling you,” Steve said. “The name’s Oreskovich!”

“We know who you are, Williams. Save your breath.”

“That’s not Cam Williams!” another reporter said, pointing and laughing. “You idiots! That’s Steve Plank.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Plank joined in. “I’m Williams’s boss from the Weekly!”

“Sure you are,” a plainclothesman said, stuffing him into an unmarked car.

Buck ducked the reporter who had recognized Plank, but when he got inside and picked up a courtesy phone to call Rosenzweig’s room, another press colleague, Eric Miller, whirled around and covered his own phone, whispering, “Williams, what’s going on? The cops just shuttled your boss out of here, claiming he was you!”

“Do me a favor,” Buck said. “Sit on this for at least half an hour. You owe me that.”

“I owe you nothing, Williams,” Miller said. “But you look scared enough. Give me your word you’ll tell me first what’s going on.”

“All right. You’ll be the first press guy I tell anyway. Can’t promise I won’t tell someone else.”

“Who?”

“Nice try.”

“If you’re trying to call Carpathia, Cameron, you can forget it. We’ve been trying all night. He’s not giving any more interviews tonight.”

“Is he back?”

“He’s back, but he’s incommunicado.”

Rosenzweig answered Buck’s call. “Chaim, it’s Cameron Williams. May I come up?”

Eric Miller slammed his phone down and moved close.

“Cameron!” Rosenzweig said. “I can’t keep up with you. First you’re dead, then you’re alive. We just got a call that you had been arrested in the lobby and would be questioned about a murder in London.”

Buck didn’t want Miller to detect anything. “Chaim, I have to move quickly. I’ll be using the name Plank, all right?”

“I’ll arrange it with Nicolae and get him to my room somehow. You come.” He told Buck the number.

Buck put a finger to his lips so Miller wouldn’t ask, but he couldn’t shake him. He jogged to the elevator, but Eric stepped on with him. A couple tried to join them. “I’m sorry, folks,” Buck said. “This car is malfunctioning.” The couple left but Miller stayed. Buck didn’t want him to see what floor he was going to, so he waited till the doors shut, then turned the car off. He grabbed Miller’s shirt at the neck and pressed him against the wall.

“Listen, Eric, I told you I’d call you first with what’s shakin’ here, but if you try to horn in on this or follow me, I’m gonna leave you dry.”

Miller shook loose and straightened his clothes. “All right, Williams! Geez! Lighten up!”

“Yeah, I lighten up and you come snooping around.”

“That’s my job, man. Don’t forget that.”

“Mine too, Eric, but I don’t follow other people’s leads. I make my own.”

“You interviewing Carpathia? Just tell me that.”

“No, I’m risking my life to see if a movie star’s in the house.”

“So it’s Carpathia then, really?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“C’mon, man, let me in on it! I’ll give you anything!”

“You said Carpathia wasn’t giving any more interviews tonight,” Buck said.

“And he’s not giving any more to anybody except the networks and national outlets, so I’ll never get to him.”

“That’s your problem.”

“Williams!”

Buck reached for Miller’s throat again. “I’m going!” Eric said.

When Buck emerged at the
VIP
floor, he was astounded to see that Miller had somehow beat him there and was hurriedly introducing himself to a uniformed guard as Steve Plank. “Mr. Rosenzweig is waiting for you, sir,” the guard said.

“Wait a minute!” Buck shouted, showing Steve’s press credentials. “I’m Plank. Run this impostor off.”

The guard put a hand on each man. “You’ll both have to wait here while I call the house detective.”

Buck said, “Just call Rosenzweig and have him come out here.”

The guard shrugged and punched in the room number on a portable phone. Miller leaned in, saw the number, and sprinted toward the room. Buck took off after him, the unarmed guard yelling and still trying to reach someone on the phone.

Buck, younger and in better shape, overtook Miller and tackled him in the hallway, causing doors up and down the corridor to open. “Take your brawl somewhere else,” a woman shouted.

Buck yanked Miller to his feet and put him in a headlock. “You are a clown, Eric. You really think Rosenzweig would let a stranger into his room?”

“I can sweet-talk my way into anywhere, Buck, and you know you would do the same thing.”

“Problem is, I already did. Now beat it.”

The guard caught up with them. “Dr. Rosenzweig will be out in a minute.”

“I have just one question for him,” Miller said.

“No, you don’t,” Buck said. He turned to the guard. “He doesn’t.”

“Let the old man decide,” the guard said, then just as suddenly stepped aside, pulling Buck and Miller with him to clear the hall. There, sweeping past them, were four men in dark suits, surrounding the unmistakable Nicolae Carpathia.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Carpathia said. “Pardon me.”

“Oh, Mr. Carpathia, sir. I mean President Carpathia,” Miller called out.

“Sir?” Carpathia said, turning to face him. The bodyguards glowered. “Oh, hello, Mr. Williams,” Carpathia said, noticing Buck. “Or should I say Mr. Oreskovich? Or should I say Mr. Plank?”

The interloper stepped forward. “Eric Miller from Seaboard Monthly.”

“I know it well, Mr. Miller,” Carpathia said, “but I am late for an appointment. If you will call me tomorrow, I will talk to you by phone. Fair enough?”

Miller looked overwhelmed. He nodded and backed away. “I thought you said your name was Plank!” the guard said, causing everyone but Miller to smile.

“Come on in, Buck,” Carpathia said, motioning him to follow. Buck was silent. “That is what they call you, is it not?”

“Yes, sir,” Buck said, certain that not even Rosenzweig knew that.

Rayford felt terrible about Hattie Durham. Things couldn’t have gone worse. Why hadn’t he just let her work his flight? She’d have been none the wiser and he could have eased into his real reason for inviting her to dinner Thursday night. Now he had spoiled everything.

How would he get to Chloe now? His real motive, even for talking with Hattie, was to communicate to Chloe. Hadn’t she seen enough yet? Shouldn’t he be more encouraged by her insistence on replacing the stolen videotape? He asked if she wanted to go to New York with him for the overnight trip. She said she’d rather stay home and start looking into taking classes locally. He wanted to push, but he didn’t dare.

After she had gone to bed, he called Bruce Barnes and told him his frustrations.

“You’re trying too hard, Rayford,” the younger man said. “I should think telling other people about our faith would be easier than ever now, but I’ve run into the same kind of resistance.”

“It’s really hard when it’s your own daughter.”

“I can imagine,” Bruce said.

“No, you can’t,” Rayford said. “But it’s all right.”

Chaim Rosenzweig was in a beautiful suite of rooms. The bodyguards were posted out front, while Carpathia invited Rosenzweig and Buck into a private parlor for a meeting of just the three of them. Carpathia shed his coat and laid it carefully across the back of a couch. “Make yourselves comfortable, gentlemen,” he said.

“I do not need to be here, Nicolae,” Rosenzweig whispered.

“Oh, nonsense, Doctor!” Carpathia said. “You do not mind, do you, Buck?”

“Not at all.”

“You do not mind my calling you Buck, do you?”