The Ugly Duckling (32 page)

She shook her head.

His smile lit his face. “Then gimme me a break, kid.”

Beautiful smile, full of warmth. She found herself smiling back at him, as she usually did these days. “Sorry.” She turned to leave and then hesitated as she glanced out the window. “It’s snowing harder.”

He sighed. “And you’re worried about Kabler. Do you want me to trail after him and make sure he makes it back to town?”

“Would you?” she asked, startled by his offer.

“If that’s what you want.”

She felt a rush of glowing warmth. “No, then I’d worry about you.”

“It’s nice to know I rate above the virtuous Mr. Kabler.”

“Maybe the snow will stop.”

“I doubt it. The weather channel said that there would be snow all along the Canadian border all this week.” He glanced at the white flakes pelting the window. “Even Joel and Tania should be getting it in Minneapolis in a few days.”

“Do you need anything from the store?” Phil stood in the doorway of the kitchen. He sniffed. “That smells good. What is it?”

“Goulash.” Tania smiled at him over her shoulder. “I’ll put some aside for your dinner.”

“Great.” He came over to the stove. “Could I have a bite now?”

He was nothing more than a big boy, Tania thought indulgently as she dipped the ladle into the pot and proffered it to him. He tasted the goulash, closed his eyes, and sighed. “Delicious.”

“It’s an old family recipe. My grandmother taught it to me.” She turned down the heat on the stove to low. “It will be better after a few hours of simmering.”

“It couldn’t be.” Phil glanced at the window. “The snow’s coming down pretty hard. It may be impossible to get out in a few hours. I wondered if you might need some milk or bread or something.”

“Milk. I used the last at breakfast.” Her gaze followed his to the window. “But don’t go just for groceries. The streets must be slick as glass.”

“I was going out anyway. Something’s wrong with my car. I have to take it into the garage.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Beats me. It worked fine day before yesterday, but last night it was hiccuping.” He shrugged. “Could be I got hold of some bad gas.” He started for the door. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Come to the front door and set the security system behind me. What’s the use of having security if you don’t set it? I walked right in.”

“I always set it. Joel must have forgotten to do it when he went out this morning.” She followed him to the foyer and pressed the armed button after he opened the door. She glanced out at the swiftly swirling snow, now so thick she could barely see two feet ahead. “This is nasty. Do you have to go?”

“Can’t do without my wheels.” He grinned. “I’m used to driving in weather like this.” He waved as he carefully went down the ice-filmed steps. “And I’ll remember the milk.”

He was lost behind the veil of snow.

She shut the door and started back toward the kitchen. She stopped, frowning, before she’d gone more than a few steps. Water had pooled on the oak floor of the foyer. Phil was usually so careful to wipe his feet. He must have been really worried that he’d been able to just wander into the house. She’d have to go to the kitchen and get a towel and wipe it up before it damaged that beautiful wood.

S
he didn’t sense his presence, Maritz realized with disappointment.

He watched her bend down and carefully wipe up the water that had dripped from his shoes when he had followed the caretaker into the house. He’d have wiped
it up himself, but he hadn’t been sure how much time he had before the guy left for the garage. He’d opted to play it safe, taken his wet shoes off, and run up the stairs to the second-floor landing.

I’m right here, pretty Tania. If you look up, you’ll see me
.

She didn’t look up. She finished wiping the floor and went back to the kitchen.

He supposed he shouldn’t be so disappointed. He had run across this blindness before. Sensitivity was dulled when you were in a place you considered safe.

But he’d thought she would be different.

Maybe it was just as well. The surprise would be greater, the fear all the more intense.

Where would he take her?

He heard her humming in the kitchen. She was happy this morning.

The kitchen, center of the home, foundation of family life.

Why not?

He started down the steps.

P
hil turned the wheel in the direction of the skid and came out smoothly. He enjoyed the feel of control driving a car gave him. It was almost like surfing the Internet, negotiating in and out of computer programs, dipping and skimming until he came to something that interested him.

If he knew as much about what went on under the hood as he did any computer, he might be in better shape, he thought ruefully. It was probably going to cost him an arm and a leg to have the car fixed.

Maybe not. He’d had his oil changed at the Acme Garage and the guys seemed to be pretty regular. He’d stayed around and shot the breeze with Irving Jessup, the owner, and he’d—

Acme Garage
.

The sign on the tall column leapt out at him. He carefully pulled into the station.

One car ahead of him even on this snowy day. He’d probably have to wait. He didn’t mind. Good business was always a sign that a company produced. No problem.

He was in no hurry.

T
he goulash needed a little more pepper, Tania decided. She set down the spoon and reached for the crystal, pepper mill on the countertop. Phil had said it was perfect, but he had never tasted her grandmother’s goulash. It always made her happy when she cooked one of her family’s recipes. It brought back memories untainted by those last years. Grandmother sitting at the table peeling potatoes and telling her tales of the old days when she had toured the countryside, her mother coming in from the office with her father, laughing and telling her—

“It’s time, Tania.”

She whirled toward the door.

A man stood there, a knife in his hand. He was smiling.

Her heart jumped and then froze.

Him. It had to be him.

He nodded as if she had said the words out loud. “You knew I’d come. You were waiting for me, weren’t you?”

“No,” she whispered. He looked so ordinary, like anyone. Brown hair, brown eyes, a little over medium height. He might have been the grocery clerk at the supermarket or the insurance salesman who’d come to the door last week. This wasn’t the faceless menace who had haunted her.

But he had the knife.

“You don’t want to do this.” She moistened her lips. “You don’t even know me. Nothing has happened yet. You can walk out of here.”

“I do know you. No one knows you better.” He took a step closer. “And I do want to do this. I’ve wanted it for a long time.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re special. I knew it the first time I followed you.”

The door?

No, he was blocking it as he came toward her.

She had to keep him talking while she tried to think.

“Why were you following me?”

“Because of the Calder woman. I was hoping she’d come back or contact you.” He took another step. “But then I realized how special you were and I began to enjoy you for yourself.”

“I don’t know where Nell is.”

“I expected you to say that. I’ll find out whether you do or not.” He smiled. “Actually, I hope you don’t tell me for a long time. I’ll be sorry to have this end.”

The drawer with the butcher knives?

By the time she reached it and pulled open the drawer, he’d be on her.

“Who are you?”

“I forgot we hadn’t been introduced. I feel so close to you, Tania. I’m Paul Maritz.”

Oh, God. Nell’s monster was now her monster, and he was coming closer every minute. What could she do? “I lied. I do know where she is, but you’ll never find out if you kill me.”

“I told you, I’d rather it be later instead of sooner.” He was only two yards away from her. “But we can talk about that when I—”

She shattered the glass pepper mill on the edge of
the counter, hurled the pepper into his eyes, and the jagged shards after it.

He cursed, flailing blindly with the knife.

She picked up the pot of goulash and threw the contents in his face.

He screamed and clutched his scalded cheeks.

She ran past him through the door to the foyer.

He was cursing behind her.

She reached the front door and fumbled at the lock.

His hand fell on her shoulder, whirling her away from the door.

She staggered back against the wall, caught herself on the hall table before she fell.

“Stupid bitch.” Tears were running down his red, swollen face. “Do you think I’d let you—”

She hurled the brass vase on the table at him and ran for the door.

She got it open, hit the emergency alarm on the panel as she rushed outside.

Her feet slipped out from under and she tumbled down the stairs.

She had forgotten the ice on the front steps.

He was coming down the steps slowly, deliberately, careful not to make the same mistake.

The security alarm wailed as she frantically struggled to her feet. Someone would hear it. Someone would come. Pain shot through her left ankle as she hobbled across the lawn toward the street.

“Where are you going, Tania?” he called from behind her. “The neighbors? You’ll not make it with that ankle, and no one can see you in this storm. The security company? They can’t get here in time.”

She kept on going.

“I’m right behind you.”

Shut up, you bastard.

“Give up. It will be the same anyway.”

She lurched as she slid again on the ice.

She could hear his heavy breathing almost in her ear.

“You know it’s going to happen. You’ve known all these weeks.”

Her ankle gave way and she fell to the ground.

She rolled over in the snow and looked up at him.

“Pretty Tania.” He knelt beside her, his hand caressing her hair. “I didn’t plan it like this for you. I wanted something nicer than you groveling out here in the snow. But you set off the alarm and now I have to hurry.”

“But I didn’t tell you about Nell,” she said desperately.

“Then tell me.”

“She’s in Florida. Let me go and I’ll tell—”

He shook his head. “I think you’re lying. I can always tell. I don’t believe you’ll tell me. I’ll have to ask the good doctor.”

“No!”

“But you leave me no choice.” His hand closed tightly on her hair and he raised the knife. “I won’t hurt you like you did me. One quick stroke and it will be over.”

She was going to die. Think. There had to be an escape. She had not stayed alive in that hellhole of Sarajevo to die here.

There was no way, she realized in horror.

The knife was arcing toward her throat.

No way at all to save—

J
amie Reardon was at his hotel when his beeper picked up the alarm call from the Lieber house.

It took him twenty minutes to get there. A patrol car with Radar Security was parked at the curb, but it was unoccupied. The siren was still wailing from the
open door of the house. Why the hell hadn’t they turned it off?

He got out of the car and started up the driveway.

He saw the first bloody footstep when he reached the top of the driveway. Outlined against the snow, the dark liquid was encrusted with ice crystals.

He felt his stomach lurch.

Drops of blood peppered the snow, leaving a trail.

He followed the trail through the swirling snow.

Two uniformed security guards stood with their backs to him, looking down.

He knew what they were looking at.

He was too late.

“I
need to talk to Nick. Right away.”

“He’s over at the Bar X this afternoon, Jamie.” Nell glanced at her watch. “But I doubt if you can reach him there. He’s probably on his way back by now, but there’s no telling how long it will take him in this snow. Shall I have him call you?”

“Yes. The minute he gets in.”

“Are you at a hotel?”

“No, I’ll give you the number.”

She took down the number on the pad by the phone. “What’s wrong? Can I take a message?”

There was silence on the other end of the line. Then, “No message.”

She stiffened. She felt as shut out as that time Jamie had given Nicholas the cryptic message about Nigel Simpson. But that was before Nicholas had promised her there would be no secrets between them. “I want to know what’s wrong, Jamie.”

“Then ask Nick,” Jamie said wearily. “He’d have my head if I told you.”

He hung up the phone.

She slowly sank down in the chair by the phone. She felt sick. The inference was clear. Deceit. Nicholas had told Jamie not to reveal something to her. How much was Nicholas still keeping from her?

She glanced down at the number on the pad. The number was vaguely familiar. What city was that area code?

Minneapolis.

And she had called that number before and knew to whom it belonged.

Her hand was shaking as she dialed the number.

“Hello.”

“What are you
doing
at Joel Lieber’s house, Jamie?”

“Christ. I should have given you the beeper number.”

“What are you doing there?” When he didn’t answer, she demanded, “Let me talk to Tania.”

“That’s not possible.”

Fear leapt through her. “What do you mean, it’s not—”

“Look, I can’t talk anymore. Tell Nick to call me.”

She crashed down the phone when she heard the disconnect.

She jumped to her feet and ran toward her bedroom. “Michaela.”

S
he didn’t arrive at the Lieber house until almost eight hours later. Yellow tape. It was barricaded with yellow tape. They always did that with crime scenes, she remembered frantically as she paid off the taxi. How many times had she seen that yellow tape on the evening news? But that was always somebody else’s house, not the house Tania had made her own.

There was a burly policeman standing in front of the barricade. He looked cold. Almost as cold as she felt.

“Nell.”

Jamie was getting out of a car parked at the curb. “You shouldn’t have come,” he said gently. “This was what Nick was trying to avoid.”