Paloma: A Laurent & Dove Mystery (18 page)

Paloma wasn’t going to bite. She turned. 

The woman reached for her arm. “Maybe I can help. Someone’s after you, right?”

Paloma’s heart fluttered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let go of me.”

Her grip tightened. “No, that’s not quite right, is it? Let’s call a spade a spade…Someone’s trying to kill you. I can help.”

Help? How? Paloma had to think fast. “All right, we’ll talk, but you have to play by my rules.”

“Rules?”

“I ask the questions.”

“Okay.”

“How did you contact Max?”

“I used a walkie talkie.”

“And where is it now?”

“In my purse.”

“Give me your purse.”

She handed Paloma her bag. “Please, can we sit somewhere?”

A hotel atrium was steps away. “Fine. Let’s go in here.”

“Sounds good.”

The two women were about to go through the revolving door when Lola stopped. “Did you hear a honk?”

Paloma didn’t.

“Oh, shoot, I forgot to pay the cabbie. He’s across the street. Could you please give me my wallet?”

Paloma looked and saw a cab pinned against the curb by a double-parked car.

Lola waved to him and he beeped his horn. “It will only take a second.”

Paloma opened the woman’s bag and pulled out a leather change purse.

“Yes, that’s it.”

Paloma handed it over, then watched as Lola crossed the busy street and headed toward the cabbie. Without thinking, Paloma’s glance floated in the direction of the library. She never wanted to see him again. Ever. Still, something gnawed at her – his hand on her arm, how it felt against her skin. How nuts was that?    

Moments later Lola returned and hooked her arm around Paloma’s. “It’ll be good to go inside. I wilt in the sun. Shall we?”

Chapter Sixteen

Max sat across from Cindy. The huge executive desk separated them in space, but it was Cindy’s stone face that truly distanced them. She stared at the desktop, then slowly lifted her face to his. “How dare you come here after our last conversation.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you, but I had no choice.”

“There are always choices.”

“If there were, I didn’t think of them. I apologize.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

Max challenged Cindy’s icy gaze. “I’d never do that.”

She stood up and walked to the window. “I have to be honest with you Max. I have never felt so disrespected as I do right now.”

“Disrespected? Why?”

“By your actions, by your total disregard for my feelings.”

“Cindy, I wouldn’t be talking to you if I didn’t value our friendship.”

She turned. Her face was pale and taut. “Do you hate me this much?”

“Hate you? What are you talking about? This is not about you.”

“Why does she have this hold on you? What is it about her?”

“She’s a friend. She’s in danger.”

“Always and forever, the poor little lost girl.”

Max glanced at his watch.

“In a hurry, Max?”

“No. I just don’t know what to say.”

With a faraway look Cindy said, “That woman ruined us.”

“Us? She had nothing to do with us.”

“Max you’re so naive. Or are you just like every other man? Only wanting what he can’t have.”

“Cindy, why are you so angry?”

“I was too much of a woman for you.”

Max didn’t have the strength or the time to argue. “Whatever we had was good. But you’re married now. You’ve moved on.”

Her eyes welled up. “I never moved on.”  

An unsettling silence filled the room.

She leaned against the desk. “We were good together, weren’t we?”

“Yes. But that was a long time ago.”

 A sweet smile came to her face. She confided softly, “Maybe I can bring us back.”

Max stiffened. The conversation had taken an uncomfortable turn. 

She walked over to him, stooped down and folded her arms on his knees. Her words rushed out. “I’ll retire too. We can make a fresh start. Move to the Carolinas. It’s beautiful there, the ocean, mountains.”

The air around him thickened. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Darling, it would be easy. I’d make it easy, the easiest thing in the world.”

“Are you forgetting your husband?”

“I despise him. I’ll divorce him.” 

“Sorry to hear that.”

Her face tightened. “Sorry?” She stood abruptly. “You’re a bastard.” 

Suddenly, Max saw her in a different light – angular, hard-edged. Any pretense on his part was futile. “No argument there.” 

“Oh, you’re good Max. Agree with the lady. Say anything rather than face the truth.”

Max felt rage building. “How honest do you want me to be?”

She chided. “You want to be honest? That’s a laugh. You’ve never been honest with anything in your life. Not with your job, not with women.”

 Suddenly, the reason why it never worked out between them crystalized. “Cindy, stop trying to manipulate me.”

She gave a cruel laugh. “That’s rich. Are you saying I pussy-whipped you? Poor Max. Well, you were whipped all right, but wouldn’t Spic-whipped be the proper phrase?”

He felt the blood drain from his face. “You’re out of line.”

“Excuse me?”

Max stood. “I’ve got to go.”

“Like hell. You’ll stay here until I say you can go.”

Max walked to the door. Those were the exact words he had heard so many years ago. For a moment, his hand rested on the knob. He considered staying, to make a case, to defend himself. But what would be the point? 

He left.

On the escalator he had to admit the day was a disaster, all strike outs. If he were a pitcher, he’d be thrown from the game – permanently. Still, he couldn’t walk away. Whatever Agnes thought or felt, he had to help. He owed her that much. 

Max pulled out the walkie talkie and pressed the ring pad. Nothing. Maybe this was a good sign. If Lola were alone, certainly she’d answer. 

Once on the first floor he saw Officer Carmine. Max rushed toward him. “Where are those two women?”

“Left them at the front door.”

“Did they say where they were going?”

Carmine shook his head. “Don’t have a clue. One wanted to go for coffee, but the other ran off like a bat out of hell.”

Max plowed through the front entry. In the blinding sunlight, he scanned the bustling crowd. Where to start? Again, he pressed the intercom button on the walkie talkie.

“Are you Max?” came a voice behind him.

Max turned. A man was leaning against the building.

“Yes.”

“They’re in the atrium at the Regency.”

“Who are you?”

“A cabbie. Oh, and there’s one other thing.”

“What’s that?”

“The redhead said, ‘Don’t spook the horse’.”

Max laughed, reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty. “Thanks.”

***

In the atrium, Lola and Paloma sat at a table nestled near a wall.  

“Are you all right?” Lola asked.

For a moment, Paloma’s guard faded. “I’m very tired.” 

Lola put out her hand. “We’ve not been formally introduced, I’m Lola.”

Paloma shook Lola’s hand.        

“Man, that Kovacs woman. What a bitch. I wanted to smack her.”

“Who is she?”

“Max’s old girl…”

“Old girlfriend?”

Lola nodded. “She clamped her teeth into him after you left him.”

“Left him? Is that what he told you?”

“Maybe I got it wrong.”

“Maybe,” said Paloma.

A waitress came to the table with two menus and a pitcher of water. Paloma said, “I won’t be needing a menu. A cup of coffee, please.”

Lola smiled. “Sweetie, they have a great turkey club here. Fresh turkey, all year round. How do they do it? Anyway, it’s fabulous with a nice glass of wine. C’mon let’s eat something. My treat.”

“No thanks.”

Lola looked brightly at the waitress. “I guess I talked myself into lunch. I’ll have the turkey club on whole wheat and a glass of Grigio.”

After the waitress walked away, Paloma took the plunge. “Why is he following me?”

“Max?”

Paloma nodded.

“He wants to protect you.”

“From what?”

“From whomever is after you?”

Paloma’s heart raced. “And who would that be?”

Lola shrugged. “He doesn’t know. That’s why he wants to talk to you.”

“How long has he been looking for me?”

“Just recently. Wasn’t there a fire in your apartment?”

“How did he know that?”

Lola poured herself some water. “Don’t know. Sweetie, maybe you should speak with him yourself.”

“I can’t.”

“But why?”

“Have you forgotten? I ask the questions.”

Lola gave Paloma a polite smile.

Paloma asked, “Do you know who I am?”

“Yes.”

“And who’s that? What’s my name?”

“Agnes.”

“Just Agnes?”

“You’re the woman who testified in the Michael Mays case. I’m afraid I don’t remember your last name.”

Suddenly Paloma realized how helpful this woman could be. Whatever Lola knew was information that Max had probably told her. “And what else do you know about Agnes?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“What happened to the woman who testified in the Michael Mays case? Tell me about Agnes.”

“Well, let’s see now. She moved to Chicago, got married and had a child.”

“And then?”

“She drowned.”

Paloma swallowed hard. This was the last that Max had known about her or so she’d thought. “And then?”

“She ended up in New York City.”

“But she died.”

“Apparently not.”

Anticipating a small, but critical piece of the puzzle, Paloma’s heart pounded. “And how did Max know that Agnes hadn’t died?”

Lola took a sip of water. “I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

Paloma wanted to lurch across the table and make her talk, but someone at the far end of the room drew her attention. Paloma blinked hard with disbelief – Max!   

A worried look spread across Lola’s face. “Sweetie, what’s wrong?”

Paloma leapt from the chair, rocking the table.

“Where are you going?”

Seething, Paloma fumbled toward the exit. 

***

Max crossed the busy room, weaving past running kids and waitresses with platters. Before he emptied out of the restaurant in pursuit of Agnes, he waved to Lola, who nodded and gave him the thumbs up.  

Once outside, Agnes was twenty feet away heading north. For every two of her steps, he took one. He’d be beside her in seconds. But there was a problem. Seeing her was one thing, getting her to talk to him was another. He didn’t want a disaster like the library. Catching a bird was tricky. Suddenly Max thought of something. It had to do with ducks and decoys.   

He sprinted forward.

At her side he said, “We need to talk.”

She ignored him.

“Okay, then I’ll do all the talking.” 

A slight twitch pulled at her lower lip. 

If only he could shake some sense into her. They continued walking in vague but certain unison. She edged closer to the storefronts on the far side of the sidewalk, putting space between them. He allowed it. Lola’s words came to mind, ‘Don’t spook the horse.’

“Just hear me out, Agnes. I want to help.”

Suddenly, she pulled up short. Her eyes cut through him. “Who you calling Agnes? It sure as hell isn’t me. That person is dead, long gone, in more ways than you can imagine.”

He backed off. “Okay. So…what can I call you?”

She bounded off. “I’m nobody to you.” 

He stayed with her. “Fine. You’re nobody. But if you’re not careful, you’re going to be a dead nobody.” 

She smirked. “I can take care of myself, no thanks to you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe you haven’t noticed, but every time you’re in my life, it turns to rat shit. Bug off.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Oh, sure you can. You’ve been doing it for the past fifteen years. Don’t stop now.” At a crosswalk the light turned red. She swore under her breath, then spun right onto a side street.

“What are you talking about?” he said at her heels.

Again she stopped and pointed an accusing finger. “You’ve known that I’ve been alive all these years. So where the hell you been? I could have used your help.” She crossed past him and cut diagonally into the road. 

He followed. “You should have asked. I’m not a mind reader.”

“Whatever.”

They were heading south now, making a big circle. Physical progress mirrored the headway he was making with Agnes. “Listen we got to pool our resources. I can help. Those damn Catoni’s. If they’re behind this, we’ll set them up for life.”

She waved him off. “Do what you have to do, but keep me out of it. I’ll never take an oath again in this lifetime. Clean up the world on your own damn time.”

The hardness in her attitude took Max by surprise. She had changed. 

A sly smile formed on her face. “Do you know where we’re heading?”

“No.”

“To the police station.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see.”

Max stopped walking. What was she up to? Another trumped up accusation? She kept a steady pace. The distance between them grew. 

It was time for his lie. It was a long shot, but she just might bite. 

He called out. “Just so you know. I spoke to Madeleine.”

Half a block away, she froze and slowly turned around. “What did you say?”

“I spoke to Madeleine.”

Her face seemed to soften. Then, as if snagged by an invisible line, she doubled back toward him. 

The decoy worked. 

Chapter Seventeen

Had she heard Max correctly? Did he say Madeleine? Each step toward him felt heavy, as if she were climbing a steep hill. Part of her wanted to run in the opposite direction, but she kept walking. The traffic, hum of engines, squeaking brakes, fell away. The only sound she heard was the beating of her heart, a recurrent thud and whoosh. 

Max stood in the center of the walk. People passed around him. Anger still coursed through her veins over the ambush, the unmitigated disregard for her feelings, the empty words of support, the feigned consolation to help. What a joke. Still, she closed the distance between them. What other choice did she have? Desperate for any word of her daughter, she would make a deal with the devil. And if that devil were Max, then so be it.