On the way over, she and Connie worked out a plan which included disguises, tape-recording devices on Connie, and various codes, should their first plan fail. They were as ready as time allowed them to be.
It was the two-second warning, and they were on their own ten-yard line.
Checking the front desk, Delta sat in the bar across from the lobby watching many brightly dressed individuals flow through the lobby and wade over to the private elevator leading to the top-floor suite. Delta’s eyes did not leave the elevator, as scores of people waited for the polished brass doors to open. While she watched, she checked to make sure that the wire in her earplug was out of sight. She left nothing to chance. With Connie wired, Delta would be able to hear everything that was going on if she confronted Elson anywhere in the building.
Wiping beads of sweat off her top lip, Delta realized how exhausted she was. Her leg was pounding and burned, and her stitches itched like mad. It felt like days since she’d gotten any sleep, yet here she was, just about at the end of the play. When this night was over, they would either rejoice wildly or be in deep despair. But then, that was how police work really was—feast or famine, win or lose, black or white. Maybe Megan was right. Maybe the right and wrong of the job was simply too rigid—too diametrically opposed for anyone to really see through.
Suddenly, Delta watched a short, red-headed woman approach the elevator and slide in between two people just as it closed. Connie had just joined the party.
Glancing at her watch, Delta realized that Connie had gone up ten minutes sooner than planned. Gingerly stepping off her bar stool, Delta joined the crowd waiting at the elevator. As the seconds turned into minutes, beads of sweat formed underneath her wig, as she tried to ignore the stitches pulling on her leg. Being jostled by the growing crowd at the elevator wasn’t helping matters, either.
“What’s going on?” someone asked, when it appeared as if the elevator was not coming back down.
Delta glanced up at the elevator lights and saw it was still on the top floor. “Shit.” Stuffing the newspaper into her borrowed Gucci bag, Delta hobbled like an old woman to the reception desk. “What in the hell is taking that elevator so long?”
“I’m not sure,” the young receptionist answered. “I think it’s stuck.”
“Stuck? What do you mean, stuck?”
“Well, more like jammed. There’s a delay button on the elevator, and sometimes, especially when people are partying, someone leans up against it, and it stops. No big deal.”
“Can’t you un-delay it?” Delta’s voice rose.
“I’m afraid not.”
Delta’s heart jumped into her throat. “How long before it can be reset?”
“I’ve called the union guys, and someone should be here to fix it within the hour. We’ve notified Ms. Agnost, and she requested that we open the bar up to her guests and put it on her tab. She wasn’t very happy about this, I can assure you.”
“Neither am I.” Reaching into her bag, Delta pulled out her badge. “Listen, it’s very important that I get to that suite within the next few minutes. I don’t have an hour. I don’t even have five minutes. Can you get those doors opened without the union?”
The wide-eyed clerk nodded slowly as she picked up the phone. “Well, I would have to ask my supervisor, and he’s—”
Delta reached across the desk and grabbed the telephone out of her hands. “Look, someone’s life is at stake here. I don’t have time to mess around with procedures and protocol. You call up to Ms. Agnost’s suite and ask—”
“I’ve tried to, but the line has been busy ever since I made my first call to her.”
“Damn it!” Delta smashed her fist on the desk. “Get me two of your strongest bellboys down here now.” Moving toward the elevator and pushing through the crowd, Delta announced that free drinks were being served at the bar. In an instant, the crowd dispersed and happily headed into the bar.
“Come on, come on,” Delta muttered under her breath. She cursed herself for not having seen this coming. How could she have been so blind? She knew, beyond any doubts, that Connie had jammed the elevator. She should have known that Connie would try to take him down alone, that Connie was too scared that he would see Delta and make good his horrific threat. She should have watched Connie more care-fully—been more aware of the pressure, the guilt, the gruesome responsibility she must be feeling about the lives already taken as well as those he’d threatened to take. He had succeeded in pushing Connie to the edge. And in that one final, irrevocably desperate move, Connie made the decision to take Elson on herself.
Alone.
And there was nothing Delta could do about it now.
No sooner were the doors pried apart than Delta reached for the rung of the iron ladder attached to the side for emergency repairs.
“Ten flights up is a long way to climb, Officer. Are you sure . . .”
But Delta had stopped listening. She didn’t have time for suggestions. Under normal circumstances, they might have been fine suggestions, but they all involved the one thing Delta did not have.
Time.
Swinging her legs onto the ladder, a sharp, jagged pain grabbed her leg like a hot fire. Wiping the sweat from her brow, Delta ignored the searing ache and started climbing.
As she climbed, so did her rage. She didn’t know who she was angrier with—Connie, for pulling such a foolish stunt, or herself, for not seeing this coming. Wasn’t it obvious that Connie would choose to go after Elson herself? Hadn’t she seen the sorrow on Connie’s face when they spoke about Helen’s broken neck? Hadn’t Delta witnessed the stoic jaw set when Connie realized Gina had been abducted?
Of course, she had. Only she didn’t listen. Delta didn’t want to believe that Connie would go off half-cocked. She didn’t want to believe that Connie would react precisely as Delta would act if the roles were reversed. Not Connie. Not level-headed, slow-to-react Connie. Connie was the reasonable one. She was the logical one. But now, she was the desperate one, and Delta hadn’t seen it coming. Delta could only imagine the fear Connie must feel knowing that her lover was tied up somewhere, alone, afraid, and praying for Connie to save her.
But who would save Connie?
Grabbing another rung, Delta shook her head. If the situation were reversed, she would have done the same thing. It all amounted to not being able to imagine her life without Megan.
Her life.
Connie’s life.
That was what Elson was trying to destroy—Connie’s life. For surely, if he killed Gina, Connie’s life would be ruined—she would never be the same. She might never truly recover from a blow, a pain that devastating.
Maybe it was too late. Maybe the rigid exterior and angry eyes Connie now wore had replaced the gentle soul Delta so loved. Maybe, in the end, Elson had accomplished what he had set out to do.
And then again, maybe Delta wouldn’t let that happen.
As she slowly pulled herself over each rung, ignoring the burn in her leg, Delta pushed her earplug deeper into her ear when she heard noises coming from it.
“Come on, damn it. Say something.” Pulling up to the next floor, Delta turned the volume up. “Anything.” When the next floor came and went, Delta stopped, threw the wig off her head, and readjusted the earplug. Had she heard something? Holding her breath, Delta released the rung and wiped the perspiration from her forehead.
“Del?”
Delta waited. She
had
heard something. Holding the earplug in her ear, Delta listened.
“I know you’re probably really pissed off right now, but don’t follow me. I have to do this myself, and you know it. There’s been enough carnage. I know what he wants, now, Del. He doesn’t want to hurt me physically, he wants to hurt me by destroying those I love. If you came up here, as he suspected you would, we’d only be playing into his hands. We’d be giving him what he wants. Well, he already has my Gina. He sure as hell isn’t getting you, too. He won’t kill me, Del. That’s not what he wants. He wants me to suffer. And he knows that killing you and Gina will make the rest of my life unbearable. He was counting on you to follow me. Please, Delta. If you’re following me, don’t. Let me do this my way.”
Delta wanted to curse and bang her fist on the side of the shaft. She should have known. Connie was going to kill him.
“Haven’t we met someplace before, doll?” came a new voice.
“I doubt it.”
“Sure we have. Maybe it was at Leslie’s party a few months ago?”
“Maybe.”
“Can I get you a drink?”
“You can if you can tell me who that man is over there in the black beard and eyepatch.”
“Shit,” Delta uttered. She had a bead on him already.
“Never seen him. How ’bout that drink?”
“Later. I have to use the ladies’ room.”
Delta started climbing faster.
“Del? I think that was him. He’s been stalking Aphrodite since I got here. But I don’t think he’s going to hit now. He’s every bit as trapped as she is. With the elevator jammed, it’s just the two of us. Ironic, huh? Me and Elson to the bitter end.”
Delta shook her head. “Not if I can help it,” she mumbled, catching her breath as a shard of pain poked through her leg. Gritting her teeth through the pain, Delta pressed on.
“Champagne?”
“Yes, thank you. Mmm. Pretty good champagne, Del. I think . . .”
Delta stopped climbing and waited. “What? You think what?”
Nothing. It was as if the tape had gone dead.
“Come on, Connie! Talk to me!”
Silence.
More silence.
“Oh my God, Del. I think . . .”
“What?”
“I think he’s poisoning her champagne. don’t you see? The circle would be complete then, wouldn’t it? He started at the drugstore for a poison, and that’s how he’s going to end it. He and I started as adversaries, and that’s the finale of his script. I’ve got to stop him.”
“Connie, no!” Delta screamed, quickly pulling herself higher.
“Delta, if anything should happen to me up here, just know that I love you more than you could ever know. But this began because of me and it’s going to end because of me. Right now.”
As a new tray of champagne headed toward Aphrodite, so did Connie. She had to stop her from drinking anymore, and even then, it was possible she’d already consumed enough to kill her.
“Delta, call the paramedics. Have them waiting,” Connie said tersely.
As A p h r o d i t e ’s long arm reached for another glass, Connie knocked into her, spilling champagne down the front of her dress.
“Look what you’ve done, you clumsy bitch!”
Seeing the man with the eyepatch disappear out of the room, Connie bolted past the cursing porn queen. He had recognized her even with the red wig and glasses on.
As Elson pushed past the barrier intended to keep partying people from wandering out to the veranda, Connie followed. One glance over her shoulder told her that the crowd was more concerned with the champagne on their hostess’ dress than with her pursuit of Elson.
“The veranda, Del. He’s heading for the veranda.”
As she reached the double glass doors, Connie knocked them open with her forearm and took one step out before closing them behind her. Looking around, she reached for a length of metal pipe lying in the drain gutter and yanked it loose. Once in her hands, she stuck it between the handles of the doors, locking them shut from the outside.
“I’ve locked us outside, Del. Now it’s just me and that fucking lunatic.” Slowly turning around, Connie stared across the veranda at Elson, who stood about twenty-five feet away.
“I am impressed,” he said coolly, folding his arms across his chest.
“Don’t be, you bastard. Where’s Gina?”
“All in good time, my dear. You don’t really believe that you’ve won, now do you?”
“Aphrodite is still alive, isn’t she?” Connie took a step closer, but Elson didn’t move.
“For the moment. I must say that I never imagined you would figure out the riddle. The game, well, it was easy enough, but the riddle? I suppose I thought it would stump you. What made you choose Aphrodite over our Congressman?”
“Don’t fuck with me, Elson. Where is Gina?” Connie stepped closer.
“Alive and well, I assure you. I am a man of my word. I must say,” he continued, taking a step back, “that it was clever of you to deduce the poison. I’m afraid, however, that our Goddess of Love and Beauty has already consumed a great deal. You may be too late.”
Connie watched Elson’s hands as she took a step closer. “Look, all I want is Gina back. I couldn’t give a shit if Aphrodite dies and you blow up the entire city. I’m nobody’s hero, Elson. I just want Gina. Tell me where she is.”
Elson shook his head. “Still the same selfish bitch you were back then. You never really care about anyone but yourself.”
“I want her back. The rest is moot for me.”
“Not until we ascertain—that’s a police word, is it not? Not until we ascertain whether or not our little porn goddess meets her maker. I wonder if there is a goddess Maybelline or Mary Kay. What do you think?” Elson chuckled at his small piece of humor.