Wonders Never Cease (31 page)

Tino Gambatti also looked down the line of people, but he wasn't counting heads—he was searching for one particular face. There was something sticking in his craw too, but it had nothing do with whose idea the whole thing was or who was getting credit for it now. Tino didn't care about who got the credit; he only cared about who got the money. He was a businessman, an investor, and he had a great deal of money invested in this project—money that had been borrowed from others. He knew these people; they were businessmen too, and they had no interest in apologies or excuses. They simply wanted their money back—on time, to the dollar, with interest. In Tino's line of work there was a simple rule of thumb: If you want forgiveness you go to a priest; if you want to live, you repay your debts.

It's just business
, Tino thought. A man who risks his money must do whatever he can to protect his investment—and right now Bobby Foscoe was looking like a very bad investment. This idea of his, it was pure genius; but Bobby himself was a fool, and now he was allowing his own vanity to endanger the entire project—a project that Tino was heavily invested in. Bobby was free to destroy himself, but he had no right to take the other partners down with him. It was time to end their partnership—and if Bobby wanted to destroy himself, Tino would be only too glad to help.

There he is
.

He spotted Bobby in the opposite line about fifteen yards back. Bobby seemed agitated, impatient—no surprise there. Tino stepped out of line and started across the open space toward him.

The line inched forward again but Kemp found the progress maddeningly slow.
What's taking so long
? he wondered.
How
long does it take the woman to sign her name
? He went up on his tiptoes once again, searching the pavilion for any sign of Biederman or Kalamar or Tino. They were the last ones he wanted to meet here—they were the ones who had warned him that he could never, ever come face-to-face with Liv Hayden. But they were wrong. Hayden would never recognize him—not at first, anyway. Each time he had played the angel he had been careful to position himself directly in front of the brilliant examination light. His face should have been completely silhouetted—just a dark shadow against a blinding aura of light. How much detail could she have made out? Besides, he had to meet Hayden face-to-face. He had something he wanted to tell her.

He thought again about the words he had implanted in Liv Hayden's mind while she was still in that semiconscious state—how the “angel” had told her she would find true love, that the man of her dreams would soon come to her and that she would know him the instant she saw him. He had described himself to her in exhaustive detail: his handsome, chiseled features; his sinewy jaw; the deep cleft of his chin; his aquiline nose with the sexy flaring nostrils; his penetrating eyes the color of plush sable; and his black hair so thick that fingers could get lost in it. Who else could that describe but Kemp? How could she possibly miss him? What did the woman need, a map?

Kemp imagined for the hundredth time how his first encounter with Liv Hayden would go. When he reached the front of the line he would slowly extend his book for her to autograph; when she took hold of the book he would refuse to let go, forcing her to look up and make eye contact. Then he would slip off his sunglasses and flash his most engaging smile, turning his head slightly from side to side to give her a thorough look. And then he would say it—the “password” that would identify him as her unmistakable one true love: “I don't believe in accidents—do you?”

After that he would just let the old McAvoy instincts take over, and who knew what might happen next?
I just hope she
doesn't do anything embarrassing
, he thought.

He briefly thought about Natalie again; when he did he felt a surge of anger and resentment. What was the woman's problem, anyway? Kicking him out of the house without even a day's notice, making him spend the night in some cheap hotel. He should have been furious, but he wasn't. It just made things easier in the long run. No awkward breakup, no tearful goodbyes—this way the whole thing was her idea.
Natalie's a good
woman, but that daughter of hers . . . who needs the grief? A kid
who sees angels—what's she been smoking? And she's not even
a teenager yet. Better to cut bait before the kid goes off the deep
end completely
.

Tino was only halfway across the pavilion when two men in blazers and sunglasses stepped in front of him.

“Tino Gambatti?” one of them said.

Tino looked at him. “Who are you?”

The man flashed a badge. “Detectives Isaacson and Garibaldi, Los Angeles Homicide. Are you Mr. Tino Gambatti from Baltimore, Maryland?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Look, pal, I got a whole list of questions for you and that's the easiest one. Now are you Tino Gambatti or not?”

“Okay, I'm Tino Gambatti. What about it?”

“We have some questions we'd like to ask you, Mr. Gambatti. Would you come with us, please?”

Tino glanced over at Kemp. “This is not a good time.”

“Well, it's a dandy time for us. Now are you coming with us or do we have to arrest you?”

Gambatti took one last look at Kemp, then reluctantly turned and followed the detectives to a waiting car.

“Hey, do you mind? Stop pushing.”

Kemp looked down. The voice came from a squat-bodied woman standing in line in front of him. “Are you talking to me?” he said.

“You're the one pushing. Who else would I be talking to?”

“I'm not pushing, lady. It's a little crowded, okay?”

“Pushing, shoving, call it what you want. It's not your line, you know. Wait your turn like everybody else.”

Kemp glared at her. “Oh yeah? Well, suppose I told you it is my line.”

She sneered at him. “Who do you think you are?”

“I happen to be a personal friend of Liv Hayden.”

“You know Liv Hayden.”

“As a matter of fact I do.”

“You're friends.”

“Close friends.”

“And as a personal favor, she asked you to wait in the back of the line with everybody else.”

People around them began to snicker.

Kemp was about to give a stinging reply when something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. He looked and saw three big men standing together near the center of the pavilion. They seemed somehow out of place; two of them were dressed in business attire and wore dark glasses, as if they were security guards. They suddenly turned and headed toward the exit together, and when they did Kemp could see the third man clearly—it was Tino Gambatti. What was Tino doing here? More important, where was he going—and who were the two men with him? Then he noticed that one of the men was leading Tino by the arm.

Kemp felt a sudden wave of panic and began to frantically search the area.

Emmet watched as the two homicide detectives led Tino Gambatti away, then looked across the pavilion at Kemp. He waited for Kemp's frantic gaze to pass close to his position—then he raised his hand and waved. When he saw Kemp's eyes lock onto his own he smiled back, and when he did he saw a look of astonished recognition flash across Kemp's face, as if the two men were high-voltage wires that had suddenly crossed.

Emmet! What's that old fart doing here
?

The instant Kemp's mind formed the question he also knew the answer. Emmet must have been there for the same reason Kemp was—he wanted to meet Liv Hayden face-to-face. But the old man had no romantic interest—he was the other angel, and he just wanted to see if Hayden would recognize him. But what if she did? That would be disaster—then she might figure out the whole thing! How could the old man take a chance like that? Kemp knew the answer to that question too: The old man had nothing to lose. If Hayden wanted to make trouble, Emmet would just point the finger at Kemp. And if she didn't want to make trouble—if she kept her sense of humor—the old man might even take credit for the whole idea!

Then an even more sickening thought occurred to Kemp: If Hayden recognized Emmet, she'd know the entire message was phony—including the part about the man of her dreams.

Kemp looked at his line, then over at Emmet's. He knew he had to get to Liv Hayden before the old man did.