Razzamatazz (A Crime Novel) (33 page)

"Hello," said Colin.

The woman looked him up and down, nodded.

He smiled at her but she averted her eyes. Did he look that bad? he wondered. He'd tried to brush himself off while he waited behind the billboard, but perhaps the damage was worse than he'd thought.

Continuing across the cement walk in front of the rooms, he found 131. The room was dark. He knocked, called Hallock's name, but there was no reply.

At the office he hesitated; what if Liz Wood knew who he was, recognized him from his picture in the paper? For all he knew, there might be a warrant out for his arrest. Even so, he had to take the chance. Hallock was his only hope.

A woman sat behind the counter. Above her head, on a shelf, a black-and-white television was playing a sitcom. She watched the screen intently, a cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth. Her copper-colored hair was wrapped around pink curlers. The light blue sweatshirt she wore said
Grab a Heine
, and displayed a bottle of beer. She glanced at Colin quickly then went back to her show.

"Excuse me," said Colin.

"Yeah?" she replied, still watching the television.

"I'm a friend of Waldo Hallock's and—"

She turned, leveling a baleful gaze at him. "You the one which called before?"

"No. Are you Mrs. Wood?"

"Who wants to know?" She eyed him carefully.

Did she look at everyone this way, he wondered, or was she recalling his picture from the paper? "My name is Mike Rosler," he said. "I'm a friend of Waldo Hallock's, and he asked me to meet him in his room but he's not there. I wonder if you could let me in?"

She took the cigarette from her mouth, a bit of paper sticking to her bottom lip. "Let you in?"

"In his room. To wait."

"When'd he make this plan with you?" she asked suspiciously.

"A few days ago."

"Well, he ain't back yet."

"Yes, I know," he said patiently. "That's my point. I'd like to wait for him. In his room."

"Where you from?"

It was clear now that she didn't know who he was. He wondered what place would gain her approval, and took a gamble. "I'm from the Midwest. Omaha."

"Omaha?" She permitted herself a small, tight smile. "Had a cousin lived in Omaha. He was a drunk," she said, looking at him as if he might have the same problem. "You drink?"

"Hardly at all," he answered truthfully.

"You look a mess."

He glanced down at his clothes, saw that his trousers were wrinkled and smeared with dirt. He hoped she couldn't see the bulge under his windbreaker where he'd tucked the gun into his belt. "I've been traveling." Fruitlessly, he brushed at his pants. "That's another reason I'd like to wait in the room. I'd like to clean myself up, take a shower."

"You'd be using his towels." She raised a thin eyebrow.

"He wouldn't mind."

"Good thing you're looking for Waldo. He's about the only person you could of said you was waiting on for me to let you in, considering what's been going on around here lately."

"What's that?" He hoped nothing showed in his face.

"Never mind. What'd you say Waldo was to you? Uncle?"

"No. Just a friend."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"You don't. You'll just have to trust me."

"I don't have to do anything, mister."

"I didn't mean it that way. I meant, I'd like you to trust me."

"I'll bet." She stood up and reached behind her, taking a key from a pegboard. "Master key," she said to him. "I'll have to go down with you." She cast a woeful eye toward the television screen. "Let's hop to it. I don't want to miss my nine o'clock show."

Near the door Colin spied a candy machine. He rummaged through his pockets for some change.

"You coming, or what?"

"I just want to get something," he said, pointing to the machine.

"Out of everything but Clark Bars."

"That's fine." He dropped his money into the slot and pulled the handle. The candy slid into the tray at the bottom. It took control not to rip open the paper and swallow the bar whole. He put the candy in his pocket and followed her down the path.

She seemed to slide along as if she were skating rather than walking, her blue sandals spraying dirt on either side of her. At Room 131 she turned to him before putting the key in the lock.

"Hope you aren't gonna try any funny business?"

"Funny business?"

"Don't try bringing any woman down here now. I'll know if you do."

"Mrs. Wood, I just want to wait for Waldo Hallock, that's all." And eat my goddamn candy bar, he added to himself.

"Who said I was Mrs. Wood?"

"I assumed."

"Big shot," she muttered, put the key in the lock, and opened the door.

It was the usual motel room, one double bed with an orange spread, a plastic orange chair, a desk made of some synthetic material, two paintings on the wall of Keane-type children, and a black- and-white television in the corner.

"Now don't go messing around with Waldo's things."

Colin wondered what she was referring to as the room seemed devoid of anything personal. "I won't." He wanted her to leave so he could eat his candy.

"If you make any calls either you or Waldo's gotta pay for them."

"Yes, I know."

"Well, okay. I hope I'm doing the right thing letting you in here."

"You are. Don't worry."

"Hope so." She backed out of the room shutting the door behind her.

Colin waited a moment then snapped the lock. He pulled the candy from his windbreaker pocket, stripped the wrapper, and bit off a large hunk. He couldn't remember ever having been so hungry.

When he was finished he closed the curtain, then took the gun from his belt. Nothing of Hallock's was visible but on the night table was a paperback. It was
Ballerina
. Colin smiled. Next to the book was the phone. He dialed Annie's number. No answer. He turned off the light and lay down. A feeling of helplessness overcame him. There was nothing he could do until Hallock returned. What if he didn't come back until morning—would it be too late? If Mark was going to make a move toward Annie, it would be tonight. He couldn't afford to wait.

A swirl of lightning lit the room, then came the thunder, muted in the distance. Oh, Christ, he thought, what if Hallock's trying to get back and a goddamn storm stops him? Colin knew he couldn't deal with this thing by himself. He needed a cover, and Hallock was the only one he could trust. Lightning flashed again, the thunder closer. A splattering of rain fell on the roof. He dialed Annie again. After ten rings he gave up. He thought of his mother, who always unplugged the television in a storm, convinced that lightning would snake through the set, killing them all.

Another streak of lightning illuminated the room and the crash of thunder that followed sounded as if it had struck the motel. It was pouring now, the drops rhythmically beating against the roof.

For Colin, who'd gotten little sleep in the last thirty-six hours, it was all he needed to put him out.

----

Annie forced her eyes to stay open. For once she was grateful to Carol Dobson, her voice a screechy irritant, the only thing that could keep Annie awake. The meeting of the Finance Committee felt like it had been going on for days.

None of her calls had been returned nor had she made contact with Colin or Sarah before she'd had to leave for the meeting. She'd tried Schufeldt twice more only to be told he'd call her when he could. And then, in desperation, she'd called Waldo Hallock. His wife told her he was in Florida and she didn't know when he was returning. That news had shocked her. Somehow she couldn't quite picture Waldo lolling around on a beach when there were still unsolved murders in his town. It didn't matter that he was no longer officially involved.

"Don't you think so, Annie?" Burton Kelly asked.

Startled she answered, "Yes, yes, certainly."

Burton looked smug, arms crossed against his narrow chest.

Instinctively, Annie knew she'd made a mistake. She should have known better than to agree with Burton. There was no way to backpedal now. Whatever she'd agreed to she'd have to stick by.

"Well, I think that about covers the issue then," said Steve Cornwell, glaring at Annie. "Let's take a vote. All in favor signify by raising your hand."

Annie took her cue from Burton who kept his arms crossed. She was astonished that she had no idea what they were voting about, and realized how long she must have been drifting.

"All those against."

She put up her hand with the minority. But what did it matter, she'd be leaving as soon as her night with Colin was public knowledge.

"The motion carries," Cornwell declared happily.

When the meeting adjourned Burton sidled up to Annie. "Thanks for standing by me." He put a hand on her arm. "Even though we lost it's good to go on record for what you stand for."

She forced a smile, nodded.

"How about coming back to my place for some coffee?"

Horrified, Annie realized her agreement had given Burton the impression her feelings toward him had changed. "No, thanks, Burton. I have to be getting home."

"I see. Got a late date?" he asked acidly.

She almost answered him, then changed her mind. Explaining her life to Burton Kelly wasn't required. "It's simply none of your business," she said coolly, leaving him startled and staring after her.

Saying her goodnights quickly, she fended off an inquiry from Madge, avoided Steve, and left. It had begun to pour. No one had predicted the storm, so she wasn't prepared and by the time she reached her car she was soaked.

Visibility was poor and when she turned onto the highway, her wipers doing double time, her anxiety, from lack of sleep, had reached a new height. At times she felt as if she were driving under water instead of through it. She had to go very slowly and it was maddening. All she wanted was to get home, wait, and hope that Colin would come to her. A serpentine flash of lightning lit up the sky, and the crash of thunder that immediately followed was so loud Annie jumped, swerving the car to the right, almost going off the road.

Righting the car she slowed even more, wondering if she should pull off until the storm abated. But she desperately wanted to get home, so she continued on.

Headlights appeared in her rearview mirror, the beams diffused by the rain. She stepped on the gas; whoever was behind her was too close. Another incident like the last and they could have an accident. The car stayed with her so she slowed again. There was no way she was going to try to outdistance it in this weather. Deciding to leave the highway, she turned down one of the side streets that would take her to the smaller main road.

When she completed her turn she looked in the rearview but saw nothing. A moment later, the high beams of another car were in her mirror again. Annie had a surge of panic. Someone was following her. Was it Steve, intent on threatening her again? Or maybe Burton, hurt and outraged.

At the end of the street she waited, trying to see if there was oncoming traffic before she made her move. The only lights visible were behind her. She flicked her signal and turned. Holding her breath she watched the rearview. At first it was dark but then the lights were there, cutting through the rain, dogging her.

She thought about going to Peg and Tim's, or to the Griffings', but she didn't want to miss Colin. Suddenly she felt joyous. Perhaps the car following her was his! The bubble burst almost immediately; he couldn't have known where she'd been.

Four blocks from her house she slowed, worried about the curving road, the pools of water that always built up in a storm. It was then that she plowed through the first one, water flying on either side of the car, splashing over the front end like miniature waves. She came out of it and almost immediately drove through the next. On the other side of that one she breathed easier. There'd be no more before she got home.

In the church parking lot she killed her lights and sat, waiting. The sound of the rain and her breathing were all she could hear. No one had followed her into the lot, she was sure. Still, she was apprehensive about getting out. But she couldn't sit there all night; she had to make a run for the house.

Looping the strap of her handbag over her head, she dropped it onto her left shoulder. It crossed her chest so the bag rested against her right hip. Slowly she opened the door and jumped from the car. The rain, coming down in torrents, soaked her. As quickly as she could she sprinted across the lawn toward her back door. And then she slipped, twisting her ankle. Pain shot up her leg. She struggled to rise, the bad ankle forcing her to put most of her weight on the other foot.

Tears sprang to her eyes. Hobbling, she reached the back stairs and hauled herself up by hanging onto the railing. She grabbed the door handle and turned. It didn't budge. "Damn," she said out loud. Ever since the episode with Steve she'd begun locking both doors. She unzipped her handbag, felt around for the keys, but couldn't find them. Frustration and pain assaulted her and she began to whisper. At last she found the keys in a side compartment.

Inside she turned the lock, and sobbing, slid down the door to the floor. Her ankle throbbed. She heard herself crying. The sound was alien, frightening. And then the phone rang.

She cried out as if she'd been stabbed. Her attempts to stand were futile so she crawled, keeping count of the rings, willing it to go on until she reached it. The seventh ring had just ended when she pulled on the cord to the receiver. It dropped to the floor. Still, crying, she reeled it in like fishing line.

"Hello, Hello!" she shouted. "Who is it?"

There was no answer.

"Hello. Colin, is that you? Please speak to me." But she knew no one would. She'd answered too late. The line was dead.

----

The plane had circled above Kennedy Airport for fifteen minutes before it landed. Hallock's patience was wearing thin as he waited in line at the Hertz counter. The limousine was available, but after what he'd learned, he wanted to get home in a hurry. As soon as he'd gotten off the plane he'd called Charlie Copin at home but he wasn't in. Then, hating to do it, he'd called Fran again. She wasn't in either but Cynthia was. His daughter had told him three things: Fran was at a meeting (which burned his ass), Babe Parkinson had been murdered, and the police were looking for Maguire, who was missing.