Mind Games (38 page)

Chapter Fifty-Three

Nothing Is What It Seems

D
iana paced the floor of the suite, shaking her head. “My idea fell flat, Ernie. I felt sure I could penetrate him. I concentrated so hard, but he wouldn’t let me in.”

Lucier was sitting on the sofa drinking coffee he ordered from room service. “He wasn’t there. Maybe I was wrong and he went for the border. That would be the smart thing.”

Diana stopped pacing. “You weren’t wrong. He was there. I know it. I felt his eyes watching me.”

“We covered every entrance. You searched that audience yourself. We couldn’t have missed him.”

She sat down next to him and took hold of his arm. “But we did. I held that shirt, used every mind game in my power to unnerve him, yet no one even twitched. He must feel confident, sure he has the upper hand. That’s why I couldn’t break through his barriers.” She ran her fingers through her tangle of hair. “Maybe I’m the one who’s wrong. Maybe he’s in control. I don’t know anymore. I just don’t know.”

* * * * *

T
he waitress brought Jake Griffin his usual breakfast: two eggs over light, hash browns, wheat toast, and coffee. He tore open two packets of sugar, poured in cream, stirred, and sipped. Perfect. He gazed around the room, sizing up people, as was his habit. Everyone had a story. That was his business. Finding stories.

He noticed the tall, attractive woman as soon as she entered. What was her story? Dressed in a tailored navy blue suit and white silk blouse, she took a seat at a nearby table and crossed her long, shapely legs. She caught Jake staring and returned a smile—the kind of smile confident women flaunt when they know men are admiring them. She ordered an omelet and a cup of coffee. Jake noticed the red-polished nails when she pushed her long bangs to the side of her loose pageboy. He figured her for a tourist, since this diner catered mainly to tourists on the weekends, and he’d never seen her before. She was what his father would call built like a brick—
oh, my, she smiled again.
At him. No mistaking her interest either. Jake’s heart pumped double time.

He wasn’t a lady’s man. Though tall and not bad looking, whenever he got near a beautiful woman he couldn’t pull off the smooth talk and silky words that rolled off other guys’ tongues like honey. His verbal skills lacked the self-confidence and fluency that he commanded on the printed page. Pissed him off too. Why couldn’t he be as slick in person?

He ate his eggs and drank his coffee, sneaking looks at the woman in the blue suit. Every time he did, he caught her looking back. Her delicate movements reminded him of a ballerina. If only he were interviewing her. He wanted to approach her table and strike up a conversation, but he couldn’t screw up enough courage. She pushed aside her plate, took a last sip of coffee—refusing a refill—and got up from the table, then turned back to pick up her check. Her eyes darted once more in his direction, and she flashed him another smile.

That was a come-get-me smile if ever I saw one. So, okay, Jake, what have you got to lose?
He grabbed his check and hurried after her. She paid, tossed back her hair with a glance over her shoulder and left. Griffin waited for two people in front of him to pay their bill before he dashed to the street and caught up with her.

“Excuse me, but I couldn’t let you go without at least talking to you. I might be crazy, but didn’t we have some special kind of connection in there? If I’m wrong, I’ll apologize and be on my way.”

“Oh, I felt it, for sure,” she said in a deep, husky voice.

“You did?”

“Definitely.” The woman slid her arm through his. “Now I want you to keep walking beside me and keep your mouth shut. If you don’t, the knife in my hand will slit your carotid artery, and within seconds you’ll be gasping for breath. A minute after that, you’ll be dead. Do you understand?”

Jake tensed at the sight of the small sharp knife she held behind her purse. His bravery manifested itself only on paper—the land of no opponents. “What do you want? Money? Here, take my wallet. There’s not much but―”

“Don’t be stupid. If I wanted money I
sure as hell wouldn’t pick you.”

“Who are you? Your voice—” He turned to get a better look.

“Eyes front, fucker.” The tone of the woman’s voice begged obedience. “You’ll do exactly what I say.”

Words stuck in Jake’s throat. He half turned, afraid to look c
loser. “You’re…you’re―”

“Shut up and keep walking.” Still holding the knife, she pulled a cell phone out of her right jacket pocket and punched one button. “Now,” she said into the phone and flipped the cover closed. She pulled Jake closer. “Stay with me a
nd act like you’re having fun. And follow my directions.”

A few blocks later, they turned right onto a side street. The woman forced him into a small coffee shop and made him sit with her near the window. She ordered two coffees and two beignets.

“But I’ve already had my two cups of coffee, and I never eat those deadly things.” Under the table, Jake felt the point of the blade prick the skin near his femoral artery.

“Shut up.” The woman’s eyes were glued to the door of Nell Devoe’s hotel.

* * * * *

L
ucier a
nswered his ringing phone. “When?” He listened. “Shit. Same MO? Send―What? How long ago? Find him and patch him through.” He jumped out of bed.

Diana sat upright. “What?”

“That was Sam. Our boy is definitely in town and quite busy. An employee found a body
in the back alley of the theater where you performed last night. Looks like the dead guy was in the middle of a sexual experience when he was cut short. And I mean that literally. On top of that, Jenrette called. Some guy went fishing at his cabin and didn’t answer his wife’s calls. She got worried and called the police. Cops found him with his throat slashed. His car’s missing. Jenrette will call back when he knows more.”

“And you think―”

“Damn right I think. Got to go. Willy is picking me up in a few minutes.”

On the way to the bathroom, Lucier called the district for a cop to come ASAP. Diana got up and threw on her robe. Lucier came out tucking his shirt into his slacks.
“I’m glad I brought some pajamas so I don’t look like the wrinkled mess I looked like the other morning.”

They exchanged sheepish grins. They had slept next to each other the last three nights, never getting more personal than the position in which they’d fallen asleep.

“You stay inside this room,” he said, buckling his belt. “If you need anything, call down to Nell. She’ll take care of you. Don’t open the door for anyone except the officer I’m sending over. He’ll say specifically that I sent him. Do you hear me?”

Diana tied her robe tighter. “I hear you. You think he’s coming after me, don’t you?”

“I don’t know how he could have found out where you are, but I’m not putting anything past this guy. Maybe we got sloppy last night. There were so many cars after the performance. Even going out of the way and back again might not have kept someone from following. If you get a call that something’s happened to me, or anything similar, don’t fall for it. No matter what anyone says, you stay here and keep the door closed, understand?”

“I understand. Be careful. Macon’s unpredictable. Oh, and there’s something else.”

He swiveled around. “What?”

“I don’t think he murdered the girl that sent him to prison.”

Lucier’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m not sure I do either, but I think I have an idea.”

“Well, it’ll have to wait till later. I’ve got to go.” He leaned down and kissed her. “Do what I told you and everything will be fine.” He kissed her again. “We’ve got some unfinished business.”

“Yes, we have.” She followed him to the door. Another kiss, orders to double-lock the door, and he was gone.

* * * * *

T
he woman sitting with Jake Griffin in the coffee shop watched the unmarked police car drive away. She tossed a ten-dollar bill on the table and stood up, yanking him along.

“Come on,” she said. “We don’t have much time.”

Struggling to keep up with the woman’s long stride, Jake asked, “Where are we going?”

“Across the street to that hotel. Do what I say and you’ll be fine. Try anything stupid and it’ll be the last thing you do, stupid or otherwise. Understand?”

“Yes. Are you g-g-going to k-kill me?”

“Don’t you listen? Do what I say.”

As they hurried across the street, Jake listened as the woman told him what to do. In the lobby, Jake approached the desk clerk and flashed his ID. “I’m…I’m interviewing Diana Racine for an article in the
Picayune
. What’s her room number?”

The woman eyed him suspiciously. “Well, I don’t know. No one’s supposed to go up there. Police orders.”

Jake wanted to warn the desk clerk, but he was too scared. What if he got her killed? The clerk noticed neither the sweat beading along his hairline nor the tremor in his hands.

“Miss Racine is expecting me. The police know about this interview. They…they probably forgot to mention it. My secretary is here to take notes.”

The desk clerk eyed the tall, well-dressed woman. “Well, I guess it’s all right. Room 312. Third floor, at the end of the hall.”

“Thanks,” Jake said, and turned back to his companion who nodded her approval. Jake knew who the woman was now, and she wasn’t a woman.

As the elevator doors closed, the desk clerk called upstairs to announce Diana’s visitors.

* * * * *

T
he phone rang as Diana stepped out of the shower. She slipped on her robe, but by the time she got to the phone, the ringing stopped. The phone’s blinking red light coincided with the rapping on the door. Torn between the phone and the door, Diana went to the door
. Must be my babysitter. Too late for the phone call anyway.
She’d retrieve the message after letting in the cop. Peering through the eyehole, she said, “Jake, what are you doing here?”

“I have to talk to you, Diana.”

“I’m not dressed. I promised to give you a special interview after Macon’s caught. I meant it.”

“I know, but I must speak to you now. I have crucial information about Macon you need to know.” His voice turned to a whisper. “Lives depend on it.”

“I can’t, Jake. Come back later.”
Where’s the damn cop?
“Call the police.”

“I tried calling the lieutenant, but he wouldn’t take the call. He’ll take it from you. Please, Diana. I can’t tell you how important this is.”

She remembered what Ernie told her. Jake Griffin was a pain in the ass, but he’d helped her when she needed him. Surely he was safe. “All right, Jake. Let me put some clothes on. Wait a minute, okay?”

“Hurry, what I have to tell you is important.”

Diana dashed into the bedroom and threw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, shaking her wet curls, which would tighten as they dried. She glanced in the mirror before heading to the door and Jake’s persistent finger rapping.

“Coming, coming. Now, Jake, what’s so important it couldn’t wait?” She swung open the door. Her smile faded when the tall woman moved into her range of vision. Something familiar struck her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Then the woman pushed Jake inside and spoke. Diana’s heart crashed; prickly heat spiked her body. She saw the glint of the knife’s blade.

Oh, my God, Ernie, what have I done?

Chapter Fifty-Four

The Diversion

“W
hat have you got, McCoy?” Lucier held his cell phone close to his ear as Cash raced through traffic on the way to the theater only a few blocks away, lights flashing, siren blaring.

“We got a dead guy at a fishing cabin,” Jenrette said. “Name’s Richard Corbeau. Wife called when he didn’t answer his phone, and they found him sitting in his fishing chair, rod in hand, dead as a mackerel—’scuse the pun. Throat slashed from ear to ear. No weapon, and Corbeau’s knife isn’t in his fishing box. No prints, but tracks came from the house around the point. We got hold of the owner and he gave permission for us to go in. CSU is in there now, so we should know something soon.”

“Got a time frame on the murder?”

“M.E. says sometime late Wednesday afternoon. He drove a black 2007 Volvo wagon. It’s gone. I’m not saying for sure Macon’s the culprit, but it looks like his handiwork.”

“You got a bulletin out on the car?”

“Done,” Jenrette confirmed.

“You know we’ve got another one here. We’re assuming he was in the audience last night at Diana’s show. On our way there now.” Lucier’s anxiety surfaced. “It’s getting close, McCoy.”

“Any word on Dree?”

“No, and still no word on Frankie Castor. We’ve checked all flights out of the city. Nothing. If he’s harboring Macon or knows who is, he’s in serious trouble. Listen, call me as soon as you know something, will you?”