Pretend You Don't See Her (23 page)

 
          
Once
again Lacey spoke slowly and deliberately. “Kate Knowles has a boyfriend. He
lives in New York. His name is Bill Merrill. He’s an investment banker with
Chase. Apparently he is a friend of Rick Parker, or at least knows him. Bill
told Kate he had been chatting with Heather in the après-ski bar of the big
lodge in Stowe the afternoon before she died. When Rick came in, though, she
apparently broke off their conversation and left the bar almost immediately.”

 
          
“He’s
sure this was the afternoon before Heather died?”

 
          
“That’s
what Kate said. Her understanding is that Heather was very upset when she
spotted Rick. I asked if she had any idea why Heather would react so strongly,
and Kate told me that apparently Rick had pulled something on Heather when she
first moved to New York, four years ago.”

 
          
“Ms.
Farrell, let me ask you something. You worked for Parker and Parker for some
eight years.
With Rick Parker.
Is that right?”

 
          
“That’s
right. But Rick was in the West Side office until three years ago.”

 
          
“I
see. And through this whole thing with Isabelle Waring, he never communicated
to you that he knew, or might have known, Heather Landi?”

 
          
“No,
he did not. May I remind you, Mr. Baldwin, that I’m where I am because Rick
Parker gave me the name of Curtis Caldwell, who supposedly was from a
prestigious law firm? Rick is the only one in the office who spoke, or
supposedly spoke, to that man who turned out to be Isabelle Waring’s killer.
Wouldn’t it have been natural in the weeks I was showing that apartment, and
telling Rick about Isabelle Waring and her obsession over her daughter’s death,
for him to have said he knew Heather? I certainly think so,” she said
emphatically.

 
          
I
turned the journal over to the police the day after Isabelle died, Lacey
thought. I told them at the time that I had given a copy to Jimmy Landi, as I
promised. Did I say anything about Isabelle asking me to read it? Or did I say
I’d glanced at it? She rubbed her forehead with her palm, trying to force
herself to remember.

 
          
Don’t
let them ask me who my date for the show was, she thought. Tom Lynch’s name is
in the journal, and they’re sure to recognize it. It won’t take them long to
learn that all this wasn’t a coincidence.

 
          
“Let
me get this straight,” Baldwin said. “You say the man who saw Rick Parker in
Stowe is an investment banker named Bill Merrill who works for Chase?”

 
          
“Yes.”

 
          
“Was
all this information just volunteered at this casual meeting with Ms. Knowles?”

 
          
Lacey’s
patience snapped. “Mr. Baldwin, in my effort to get this information for you I
manipulated a luncheon with a very nice and talented actress whom I would enjoy
having as a friend. I’ve lied to her as I have to every living soul I’ve met in
Minneapolis, other than George Svenson, of course. It’s in my best interests to
pick up any information I can that might lead to my having the chance to become
a normal, truthful human being again. If I were you, I think I’d be much more
concerned with investigating Rick Parker’s link to Heather Landi than acting as
if I’m making things up.”

 
          
“I
wasn’t suggesting anything of the sort, Ms. Farrell. We’ll follow up on this
information immediately. However, you must admit that not too many witnesses in
the protection program manage to bump into the friend of a dead woman whose
mother’s murder was the cause of their being in the program.”

 
          
“And
not too many mothers get murdered because they’re not convinced their
daughter’s death was an accident.”

 
          
“We’ll
look into this, Ms. Farrell. I’m sure you’ve been told this already, but it’s
very important. I insist that you be extremely careful not to let your guard
down. You say you have new friends, and that’s fine, but watch what you say to
them. Always, always, just be careful. If even one person knows where you can
be reached, we will have to relocate you.”

 
          
“Don’t
worry about me, Mr. Baldwin,” Lacey said, as with a sinking heart she thought
again about telling her mother she was in Minneapolis.

 
          
As
she hung up the phone and turned to leave the room, she felt as though the
weight of the world was pressing on her shoulders. Baldwin had practically
dismissed what she told him. He had seemed not to believe there was any
significance to Rick Parker having had a connection to Heather Landi.

 
          
There
was no way Lacey could have known that the moment he replaced the receiver,
U.S. Attorney Gary Baldwin said to his assistants, who were monitoring the
phone call, “The first real break! Parker is in this up to his neck.” He
paused,
then
added, “And Lacey Farrell knows more than
she’s telling.”

 
          
I GUESS IWAS WRONG ABOUT ALICE, TOM LYNCH THOUGHT as he showered
after working out at the Twin Cities Gym.
Maybe she was sore that I
didn’t stick by her at the party. For the second day in a row she had not shown
up at the gym. Nor had she returned his phone call.

 
          
But
Kate had called to tell him about her lunch with Alice, and Alice had been the
one who made the date, so at least she likes somebody in the family, he told
himself.

 
          
But
why didn’t she call me back, even if it was to say she couldn’t make it, or
that she didn’t get the message in time to make dinner last night?
he
wondered.

 
          
He
stepped out of the shower and vigorously toweled himself dry. On the other
hand, Kate also mentioned that Alice was starting a new job. Maybe that’s why
she hadn’t gotten back to him, he decided.

 
          
Or
maybe there was another guy in the picture?

 
          
Or
maybe she was sick?

 
          
Knowing
that Ruth Wilcox missed nothing, Tom stopped at her office on the way out. “No
sign of Alice Carroll again today,” he said, trying to sound casual. “Or maybe
she comes in at a different time now?”

 
          
He
saw the spark of interest in Ruth’s eyes. “As a matter of fact, I was just
about to give her a call to see if something was wrong,” she said. “She’s been
so faithful, coming in every day for two weeks, that I figure something must be
up.”

 
          
Ruth
smiled slyly. “Why don’t I call her right now? If she answers, should I tell
her you’re asking for her, and put you on?”

 
          
Oh
boy! Tom thought ruefully. It’ll be all over the gym that something’s brewing
between Alice and me. Well, you started it, he reminded himself. “You’re a
regular Dolly Levi, Ruth,” he said. “Sure, if she answers, put me on.”

 
          
After
four rings, Ruth said, “What a shame. She must be out, but the answering
machine is on. I’ll leave a message.”

 
          
Her
message was that she and a certain very attractive gentleman were wondering
where Alice was keeping herself.

 
          
Well,
at least that will smoke her out, Tom thought. If she’s not interested in going
out with me, I’d like to know it. I wonder if there is some kind of problem in
her
life?

 
          
When
he went out, he stood on the street for a few minutes, debating what he wanted
to do. Had he run into Alice at the gym, he would have asked her to go to
dinner and a movie, or that at least had been his plan. The film that had been
awarded first prize at the Cannes Film Festival was playing at the Uptown
Theatre. He knew he could always go alone, but he just didn’t feel like seeing
it by himself.

 
          
He
was getting cold, standing on the sidewalk, trying to decide. Finally he
shrugged and said aloud, “Why not?” He would drive over to where Alice lived.
With luck she would be there and he would ask her if she wanted to go to the
movie with him.

 
          
From
his car phone he tried her number again and got the answering machine. She
wasn’t home yet. He parked at the curb outside her building and studied it,
remembering that Alice lived on the fourth floor and her windows were directly
over the main entrance.

 
          
Those
windows were dark. I’ll wait awhile, Tom decided, and if she doesn’t show up,
I’ll get something to eat and skip the movie.

 
          
Forty
minutes passed. He was about to leave when a car pulled into the semicircular
driveway and stopped. The passenger door opened, and he saw Alice get out and
dart into the apartment building.

 
          
For
a moment the car was illuminated by the overhead light. Tom could see that it
was a dark green Plymouth; it appeared to be five or six years old, the very
essence of nondescript. He caught a glimpse of the driver and was pleased to
note that he obviously was an older man. Certainly he would be an unlikely
romantic partner for Alice.

 
          
The
intercom was in the foyer. Tom pushed 4F.

 
          
When
Alice answered, she obviously thought it was the man who had just dropped her
off. “Mr. Svenson?”

 
          
“No,
Alice, it’s Mr. Lynch,” Tom said, his tone one of mock formality. “May I come
up?”

 
          
W
hen Lacey opened the door, Tom could see that she looked drained, even stunned.
Her skin was pale, almost alabaster white. The pupils of her eyes seemed
enormous. He did not waste time on preliminaries. “Obviously something’s
terribly wrong,” he said, alarm in his voice. “What is it, Alice?”

 
          
The
sight of his tall, rangy figure filling the doorway, the concern in his eyes,
in his whole expression, the realization that he had sought her out when she
ignored his call, almost unhinged Lacey.

 
          
It
was when he called her Alice that she managed to rein herself in, to regain at
least a modicum of control. In the twenty-minute ride from the secure phone
back to the apartment, she had exploded at George Svenson. “What is the matter
with that Baldwin? I give him information that has to be useful in this case,
and he treats me as if I’m a criminal! He just dismissed me, treated me like a
child. For two cents I’d go home and walk down Fifth Avenue with a sign on me
saying ‘Rick Parker is a no-good, spoiled jerk who must have done something
terrible to Heather Landi when she was a twenty-year-old kid just arriving in
New York, because four years later she was still obviously spooked by him.
Anyone with any information please
come
forward.’”

 
          
Svenson’s
response had been, “Take it easy, Alice. Calm down.” And in fact he had the
kind of voice that could soothe a lioness, let alone Lacey. It came with the
job, of course.

 
          
During
the drive home a new fear had hit Lacey. Suppose Baldwin had someone on his
staff talk to her mother or Kit to be sure she hadn’t told them where she was
living. They would see through Mom in a minute, she thought. She would never be
able to fool them. Unlike me, she’s never learned to be an accomplished liar.
If Baldwin thought Mom knew, he would relocate me, I know it. I can’t go
through the whole business of starting over again.

 
          
After
all, here in Minneapolis she had a semblance of a job, and at least the
beginnings of something resembling a personal life.

 
          
“Alice,
you haven’t invited me in. You might as well. I have no intention of leaving.”

 
          
And
it was here that she had met Tom Lynch.

 
          
Lacey
attempted a smile. “Please come in. It’s nice to see you, Tom. I was just about
to pour myself a much needed glass of wine. Will you join me?”