Sidney Sheldon's Mistress of the Game (45 page)

Greta looked at the check. Then she looked at Gabe. Finally, she looked at baby Maxine, dreaming away in her car seat, blissfully unaware of the high-stakes game in which she was about to become an unwitting pawn. Greta held out her hand.

“You know what, Mr. McGregor? I believe it
would
ease my mind.”

Gabe grinned and passed her the check.

He’d always liked Swedish girls.

The new interview room was painted a bright, cheery yellow, with a striped rug, paintings on the wall, and a pair of matching faux-suede couches. Someone brought Lexi a sandwich and a cup of coffee. Lexi thought:
This must be the “good cop” room. Perfect.
The clock on the wall said a quarter after eight.

She had thirty minutes.

“Talk to me about Carl Kolepp.”

Lexi talked, slowly. It was important that she sound relaxed on the tape. But at the same time, she had to measure every word.
I can’t afford to incriminate myself. I have to tread carefully.
She told Carey about her first meeting with Carl. Her respect for him as a trader. She talked about Kruger-Brent. “It’s important you understand a little bit about the company history, Lieutenant. What happened to our stock price was not simple cause and effect. It was not one single event but a complex web of events.”

John Carey nodded. “Go on.”

Twenty minutes…Keep him talking…

Twelve minutes.

John Carey didn’t understand half of what Lexi was saying. Indices and margin calls and hedges, it was all Greek to him. But it didn’t matter. The point was she was
talking
. And it was all on tape.

Hawaii. That’d be a good place to retire. Maybe a time-share on Kaanapali Beach?

Lexi checked the clock. Seven minutes. Frowning, she rested a hand on her belly.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes. I…” Lexi clutched her stomach again. “Would you mind stopping the tape for a moment, Lieutenant?”

Carey got up and switched off the recorder. It was irritating having to stop when they were on a roll, but he didn’t want to alienate Lexi, not when she was being so helpful.

“Are you sure you’re all right, Ms. Templeton?”

“I’m fine. Thank you.” Lexi smiled bravely. “I didn’t want this to go on record. But I actually just found out I’m pregnant again. The sickness…you know.”

“Oh. Sure.” Carey looked embarrassed. He wasn’t good with women’s problems. “Sorry. I didn’t know. Can I…is there anything I can do?”

“I’ll be fine. I could maybe use some fresh air.”

“Of course. You want to use the ladies’ room first?”

Lexi nodded gratefully. “Thanks.”

“Follow me.”

Carey led her down the hall to the restrooms. Normally suspects would be escorted to the toilets by a female officer, but he didn’t see the need in this case.
This is Lexi Templeton. She’s hardly likely to try to shimmy out of the window like a common criminal.

Sure enough, five minutes later, Lexi emerged into the corridor. She looked deathly pale.

“I know you want to get back to the interview, Lieutenant. But do you think I could step outside for a few minutes? I don’t feel at all well.”

“Of course. Take your time.”

He led her out into a small paved area at the back of the station. There was a metal table and a couple of chairs, both littered with cigarette butts. A lone ceramic planter stood forlornly in the corner, containing something very, very dead.

Lieutenant Carey was babbling. “Not the most beautiful yard, I’m afraid. None of my guys are what you might call green-thumbed…if you know what I mean…anyway. I’ll be in room three when you’re ready.”

“Thanks. I won’t be long.”

Lexi waited for the door to close. Grabbing one of the chairs, she dragged it over to the back of the garden. At first glance, the wall looked relatively low. But when Lexi stood on top of the chair, she realized that there was a good three feet between her outstretched fingertips and freedom. She’d have to jump for it.

Bending her knees, arms stretched upward, she leaped as high as she could. The chair slipped from beneath her feet, clattering loudly onto the concrete. Panicking, Lexi looked behind her at the station door.

Don’t open. Please don’t open.

Agonizing seconds passed. Nothing happened.

Hanging by her fingers from the top of the wall, Lexi could feel her hands sweating.
I’m slipping.
Her feet flailed in the air, desperately scrambling for some sort of hold, a protruding brick, a crack, anything. It was no good. The wall was like ice. She was losing her grip.

Oh God! I’m going to fall.

A warm, male hand clamped down over hers. Then another. Fingers tightened around Lexi’s wrists. Someone was pulling her, so hard Lexi thought her shoulders were about to dislocate. Seconds later, she was flying headfirst over the top of the wall.

A garbage can broke her fall, but Lexi still landed hard, bruising her elbow and hip on the hard ground of the alleyway. She cried out in pain.

“Quiet.”

Someone scooped her up off the ground like a rag doll. Bundling her into the back of a car, he took off at full speed. Lexi lay on the floor of the backseat, her heart pounding. Memories of her childhood kidnapping came flooding back to her. Only this time she knew where she was going.

After ten minutes, and numerous sharp turns, the car began to slow down. Lexi felt the bumps as they turned off the road. At last, the engine stopped.

“You okay?” Robbie’s voice sounded shaky.

“I’m fine. Thanks. I didn’t know if you’d make it.”

Overwhelmed with relief, Lexi burst out laughing.

“I wouldn’t celebrate just yet if I were you,” said Robbie. “That was the easy part. Now we have to get you off the island.”

“US Air flight twenty-eight to Providenciales, you may board the aircraft at this time.”

Gabe and Greta were in the first-class departure lounge at Bangor International Airport. Maxine lay sleeping like a black-haired cherub in her nanny’s arms. Two floors below, at the gate, an army of paparazzi was waiting, hoping for a picture of Lexi en route to her honeymoon. Baby Max would be an added bonus.

“You ready to go?”

“Yes, sir. Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good.”

Gabe looked at his watch.

Come on, Lexi.

Lieutenant John Carey waited for five minutes. Then ten.

Should I go out there and get her?

What with Lexi being so unexpectedly forthcoming, he didn’t want to look insensitive. He remembered his ex-wife when she was pregnant. Hormones out of control, like an angry hippo. You could tick a pregnant woman off just by breathing.
I need that confession.

Fifteen minutes.
This is getting ridiculous. Maybe I should bring her a glass of water or something? Yeah. That’s a good idea. Act like I’m concerned for her health.

Three minutes later, Lieutenant Carey walked outside with a paper cup full of water. When the duty sergeant heard his boss’s scream, he thought he was having a heart attack. He rushed outside.

“Don’t just stand there!” Lieutenant Carey was apoplectic. “Put a call out to all units. The suspect has absconded. I want roadblocks. I want guys at the airport, the docks. I want helicopters.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And get me Sanchez and Shaw.”

“Yes, sir. Should I call anyone else, sir?”

“Like who?”

“I don’t know, sir. I thought maybe…the FBI?”

Lieutenant John Carey closed his eyes and watched his retirement condo on Kaanapali Beach crumble into dust. He glared at his sergeant.

“No. This stays within the department. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“She must still be on the island.”

I’m gonna find that conniving little bitch if it’s the last thing I do.

The flight attendant smiled at Gabe.

“I’ll show you to your seat, sir. Right this way. My name’s Catherine.”

“Thanks, Catherine.” He followed her to the front of the plane. Max had woken up a few minutes earlier and was now gurgling contentedly
in his arms. The flight attendant thought:
How cute to see such a hands-on dad. Most fathers would give the baby to the nanny for the whole flight and open a newspaper.

“Congratulations by the way, sir.”

Gabe looked blank.

“It was today, wasn’t it?”

“Oh! Yes. Thank you.”
The wedding
. It felt like a lifetime ago already.

“Mrs. McGregor’s not flying with us today?”

“No.” He didn’t elaborate. The flight attendant hoped she hadn’t inadvertently put her foot in it.

“Well, anyway. I hope you’ll both be very happy.”

Gabe didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

So do I, Catherine. So do I.

It was so dark Lexi could barely see her hand in front of her face. She heard the lapping of the waves. Holding her brother’s hand tightly, she inched along the dirt track toward the water.

“Danny!” Robbie hissed through the blackness. “You there?”

“Right here.”

Illuminated by a handheld gas lamp, a familiar face jumped out of the gloom. “Hey, Lex. Long time.”

“Oh my God. Danny French?” Lexi hugged him. “I don’t believe it.”

Lexi had known Daniel French since she was a little girl. They used to play together during summer vacations at Dark Harbor. Once, when Lexi was thirteen, they’d even kissed under the nets of his dad’s trawler. She hadn’t seen him in decades.

“Robbie told you?”

“He told me you were in trouble. That’s good enough for me. Hop aboard.”

Taking Lexi’s arm, Danny walked her to the rotting jetty at the end of the track and helped her onto a small fishing boat. There was a makeshift hiding place beneath some nets and tarpaulin. It reeked of fish. Lexi couldn’t have been more grateful if Danny had been showing her to her suite at the Ritz.

“Thank you.” Her voice was choked with emotion. She’d never done anything for Danny French to deserve this kind of loyalty.
Danny should have been at my wedding, not a bunch of stupid senators. When will I learn?

“You’re welcome. I figured if anyone can work her way out of a jam,
it’s Lexi. When this is all over and you’re stinking rich again, you can pay off my mortgage. Deal?”

Lexi grinned. “Deal.”

Danny started the boat’s engine.

Robbie Templeton watched from the shore until the darkness swallowed his sister completely. He had no idea when, or if, he would see her again.

T
HIRTY
-T
WO

“CAN I GET YOU ANYTHING ELSE BEFORE WE LAND, madam? A hot towel perhaps? Something to drink?”

Greta Sorensen shook her head. She gestured toward the tiny pink bundle strapped to her chest. “I don’t want to disturb her.”

“She’s been good as gold, hasn’t she?” The flight attendant smiled. “I don’t think we’ve ever had an infant as quiet as that.”

“She likes her sleep. Takes after her father.”

Across the aisle, a pile of blankets heaved rhythmically up and down. The only sign that there was a human being underneath them was the tuft of white hair sticking out of the top.

“Bless him,” said the flight attendant.

Lieutenant Carey was on the phone.

“What do you have for me?”

“They’re booked into the honeymoon suite at the Amanyara. Turks and Caicos.”

Detective Antonio Sanchez spoke quickly.

“Flights?”

“They were both booked on the nine-fifteen
P.M.
flight to Providenciales. But Gabe McGregor changed the reservation this afternoon, right
after we came up to the house. He canceled his wife’s reservation and had new tickets issued for the nanny and the little girl. He kept his own seat.”

“He went on the honeymoon on his
own
? With his wife in the slammer?”

“Yes, sir. It would appear that way. He should be in the air right now.”

“Hmm.” Lieutenant Carey thought for a moment. “Anything else?”

“Yes, sir.” A note of excitement crept into Detective Sanchez’s voice. “Right after he changed the first reservation, he booked a third ticket. Also to Providenciales, on a private charter. That plane is due to leave Bangor at midnight tonight with twelve passengers.”

Lieutenant Carey’s heart skipped a beat.

“What name did he book it under?”

“That’s the best part. The passenger name is Wilson. Jennifer Wilson.”

Lieutenant Carey closed his eyes. The name rang a bell, but he couldn’t quite place it…Finally, it came to him.

Of course! Jennifer Wilson. President of Cedar International. Chairman of DH Holdings. Lexi Templeton’s trading alias.

Had Lexi honestly believed it would be that easy? That she could use a false name and join her husband on their honeymoon, as if nothing had happened? Perhaps she’d gotten away with so much for so long she believed she was untouchable.
Well, not this time, sweetheart. I’ve got your number.

Lieutenant Carey hung up and looked at his watch.

He had to get to the airport.

The blond woman with the oversize sunglasses handed her passport to security.

“Would you please remove your sunglasses, ma’am. I need to see your face.”

She did as she was asked. For a few tense moments, the man in the booth looked at her in silence. Then he smiled.

“Have a good flight, Ms. Wilson. Enjoy Turks and Caicos.”

“Thank you. I will.”

Gabe stared out of the plane window. The carpet of clouds below him looked soft and welcoming.
Peaceful
.

He thought about Lexi. Where was she right now? He hated not knowing. Gabe had played his part. But had Lexi played hers? Was she safe? Even if she was—even if, by some miracle, her plan had worked—what then? He wondered what the future would hold for them? What kind of life would it be for little Max, growing up as the daughter of a criminal on the run?