The Cruel Ever After (29 page)

“He’s a charmer,” said the woman, taking hold of his paw and pumping it a couple of times. “You looking to buy a house?”

“Actually, yeah. Has this one been on the market long?”

“The sign went up yesterday.”

“You know the owners?”

“Just one owner. A single guy. He’s only been living there a month or so. I knew the old owners really well—an older couple. They moved to Baltimore to be closer to their kids.”

“Do you know why he’s selling?”

She shrugged, folded her arms over her stomach. “He’s not around much. Seems friendly enough when he’s outside working on the yard.” She moved a little closer. “The weird thing is, he’s living in there without any furniture.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“There was never any moving van, not even a U-Haul. I’m not the only one who noticed. Sometimes I see him leave at night and he doesn’t come back for days. There’s a chandelier in the dining room. He keeps that on when he’s gone. That’s how I know. When he’s around, it’s off. He’s been around a lot the last few days.”

“What’s he do for a living?”

Before she could answer, a white Ford pickup pulled into the driveway behind the house. A bald, portly man in cargo shorts and a New York Yankees T-shirt got out carrying what looked like a sack of groceries. He hustled up the back sidewalk and disappeared inside.

“That’s him,” said the neighbor.

Either Chess was lying to Jane, or this guy had lied to Chess. Whatever the case, something wasn’t right.

Speaking a little more softly, the woman said, “He says he’s a music teacher.”

“High school? College?”

“He may have told my husband, but he never said anything to me.”

Jane glanced down at the brochure in her hand. “I guess I’ll have to take a look.”

The woman gave Mouse’s head a couple of quick strokes. “Nice to meet you, big guy.” To Jane, she added, “Good luck with your house search.”

Jane sat in her car for the next few minutes, watching the bungalow and wondering what it all meant. Who was this guy? Why buy a house and never move any furniture in, and then turn around a month later and put it back on the market? Was it just a coincidence that this man had moved in next to Melvin Dial? Why had Chess found this guy’s behavior odd? She wished now that she’d pressed him about it, but at the time it hadn’t seemed important. She went back and forth, deciding that it was an almost complete leap in the dark to even
entertain
the idea that this man was connected to the people who were searching for the bull. Still, if Smith was one of them, it was possible he was also connected to Mia’s abduction. Had she stumbled over the place where Mia was being held captive? Was she building a scenario that had no basis in reality? Whatever the case, there was no way she could walk away and not check it out.

Flipping her cell phone open, she tapped in Cordelia’s number. Three rings later, Cordelia’s voice answered breathlessly, “Did you find the bull?”

“No.”

“Me neither. This is a frickin’ waste of time. But I know, I know. Mel and I will keep calling.”

“I need your help with something else.”

“Of course you do. Like what?”

“Tonight. I’ll call and let you know what time.”

“You discovered something?”

“I don’t want to get anybody’s hopes up if what I have turns out to be a dead end. We have to check this out.”

“
Now
you’re talking. You’re finally back in the saddle, Janey, right where you belong. Me and you. Jane and Cordelia ride again!”

33

Chess sat on his mattress, his back against the cold concrete block. He’d made a mistake, pissed off a guard. Who knew the guy would be so sensitive about his weight. Chess was hardly one to cast stones, but if he could joke about his girth, why couldn’t the guard? Some people had no sense of humor.

Chess needed to make another phone call, but the guard had to call someone to take him, and at the moment, he was standing inside the guard box in the main part of the cell block, talking about “them fuck-tastic Twins” to one of the other guards. Chess couldn’t stand it anymore and so came back into his cell to get away from being ignored.

The harsh fluorescent lights irritated his eyes. He was used to the smell of unwashed bodies, but not the nervous sweat that came along with the sometimes furtive but more often hard looks he got from other prisoners. He had the perfect “get out of jail” card, but that tubby pissant wasn’t going to let him play it.

After another four-star jailhouse dinner, accompanied by a generous glass of complex, subtle, yet full-bodied Minneapolis tap water, Chess strolled around the main room. Most of the men were watching TV. The asshole guard had left and didn’t seem to be coming back.

“I need to use the phone,” he said to a different guard who had just come on duty. Chess had met the man the day before. He seemed nice enough.

“Yeah?”

“It’s about my bail.”

“You want out of here? Why, I thought you liked our ambience.” He mispronounced the last word.

It was a slap at Chess’s cultured bearing, but it didn’t matter. Chess would suck anything up, become one of the guys, spit on the floor, scratch his crotch, or be sophistication itself—whatever it took to get what he wanted.

The guard sat down behind the desk and tapped in a couple of numbers. He spoke quickly, said what he needed, and then joked for a couple of minutes with the person on the other end of the line.

After what seemed like hours, Chess was moved to another room, where he sat on a folding chair and called Jane’s cell. He closed his eyes as the phone began to ring. “Pick up,” he whispered. “Please, pick up.”

“Hello?”

“Jane, it’s Chess.” When she didn’t respond, he said, “Are you there?”

“What do you want?”

“I’ve got great news. I know where the bull is. I mean, I know who has it.”

“Who?”

“Irina Nelson.”

“I thought you said she lost it.”

“I think she may have been lying to me. She’s in love with me. The sale of the bull was going to finance our life together, but she didn’t trust me to stick around once it was sold.”

“That I believe.”

“Just listen. She’s gone into hiding. She’s sure that the people who murdered her mother and Melvin Dial are after her now. I told her you’d get me out, that you’d do it in exchange for the bull.”

“She agreed?”

“She thinks the plan is to double-cross you. She’s rented a car. She wants to ditch you and take off as soon as I get out.”

“Where is she now?”

“She’ll never talk to you without me. I swear to you, as soon as I get my hands on the bull, it’s yours.”

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that? You actually expect me to believe you? You pile one lie on another, build a house with them, and then turn around and point at it as if it’s evidence of something real.”

“I’m not lying. Not this time.”

“Ever hear about the boy who cried wolf?”

“One hundred thousand dollars. If you write a check, you don’t have to talk to a bail bond service and put up collateral for the rest of the money. Go to your bank tomorrow morning. Put the money in your checking account or get a cashier’s check. Then come down and get me out of here. It won’t take long. You can come with me to where Irina is hiding. Bring a gun for all I care. I’ll get you the statue if it’s the last thing I do. Everything that’s happened is my fault. I take full responsibility.”

“That’s big of you.”

The anger in her voice irritated him. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but a little gratitude might be nice. “Do you have a hundred thousand liquid?”

“Maybe.”

“Will you do it?”

“You really think you can play me like this?”

“You told me you had forty-eight hours. The clock is ticking, Jane. I may be your last hope.”

34

Just after ten that night, Cordelia slipped into the front seat of Jane’s Mini. She was dressed in black jeans and a black turtleneck and had on an oversized pair of dark glasses.

“I see you still have your breaking-and-entering gear,” said Jane, drinking from a can of Mountain Dew.

“You never go wrong with basic black. Works for every occasion.”

“It would have been so much easier if I could’ve arranged for a real estate agent to show us the house tonight, but I couldn’t make it happen. Apparently, the owner wanted the sign put up to start generating interest, but he won’t allow any showings until the end of the week.”

“Weird.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Hey, I talked to Peter before I left the mother ship,” said Cordelia, pulling out a Snickers bar and tearing off the wrapping with her teeth. “He’d just phoned your dad. Nobody has been able to shake anything loose about the bull. Mel and I covered most of the calls you didn’t make.”

“If I’m right and Mia is in that house, we won’t need to make any more calls. We’ll have her back and the kidnappers can go to hell.”

Cordelia offered Jane the first bite of the candy bar. “It’s good for you. It has peanuts.”

“Eat it fast,” said Jane. She tipped her can back and finished the soda. “Smith came out around eight and drove off. The chandelier is on in the dining room, so I’m hoping that means he won’t be back.”

Chewing maniacally, Cordelia asked about Nolan.

“I called him earlier, gave him the license plate number for Smith’s truck. Maybe he can chase something down.” She waited until Cordelia had swallowed the last bite of her Snickers and then said, “Are you ready?”

“I’m about to hyperventilate. That must mean something.”

“Lose the glasses.”

“Really?”

“Do you see any sunlight out there?”

“It’s all about my
look,
Janey. The idiom I’m trying to project.”

“Off.”

“You have no sense of style.”

Jane removed an athletic bag and a car blanket from her trunk. After Smith had left the house, she’d driven to a hardware store to buy everything she figured she’d need.

“I think I can get us in,” she said, glad that it was a hot night. Most people had their windows closed and their air-conditioning running, thus muting any loud outside noises.

Cordelia stuck close to Jane as they pushed through a privacy gate into Smith’s backyard. They didn’t need to worry about anybody seeing them on the side of the house that faced Dial’s place.

“Hey, Janey?”

“Keep your voice down.”

“I just remembered something.”

“What?”

“I don’t like breaking and entering.”

Jane crouched next to one of the basement windows. Thick white peony bushes by the fence sweetened the night air around them. The peonies actually smelled a lot like roses. It had never occurred to her before that the two smelled similar. How she could allow a thought like that to flit through her mind at a time like this truly amazed her. She dug in the bag for a hammer and a retractable-blade metal scraper.

“You going to break the window?” whispered Cordelia.

“No, I’m going to build a garage.” Folding the towel, she added, “We’re lucky. This is a single pane. No bars or security system. Shouldn’t be too hard to get inside.”

“Janey, I’m just spitballing here, to quote one of my favorite Jack Nicholson movies, but have you looked at the narrowness of that window and then taken a good look at me?”

“Your point?”

“When I was ten years old, I couldn’t fit through it. I certainly can’t now.”

“I thought I’d let you shinny up the side of the house and come down the chimney.”

“Drop the sarcasm.”

“I’ll climb in, and then I’ll let you in the back door.”

“I like it. Always good to have a Plan B.”

Jane tapped at the window through the blanket to mute the sound of breaking glass. Handing Cordelia a small flashlight, she said, “I need to make sure I chip off all the broken edges before I climb in.” After a few minutes’ work with the hammer and a pair of pliers, finished off by the metal scraper, the remainder of the jagged glass was gone. To protect her skin from any shards she’d missed, she pulled a leather jacket and a pair of heavy leather work gloves out of the bag and put everything on. She’d already tucked her long hair up under a baseball cap. With Cordelia’s help, she lowered herself through the opening; Her feet dangled for a few seconds and finally hit the floor. “Now pass me down the flashlight.”

“What’s it look like in there?”

“Empty,” said Jane, aiming the beam around the open, unfinished space. It was clean but dank, one long room with a concrete floor and water-stained walls. A freezer stood at one end. On the other end was a small laundry area. She remained still and listened, but no sound stood out, nobody moving around upstairs, no TV, no music.

She was about to head up when she looked once again at the freezer. The image forming in her mind was too vile to even consider, and yet she had to. She walked over, stood next to it with her hand on the lid, telling herself that she’d seen way too many horror movies in her life. She flipped the top back.

“Empty,” she breathed. Thank God.

Wiping sweat off her forehead, she crept up the stairs into a narrow hall that led to the back door. Cordelia was standing outside.

“What took you so long?”

Jane held a finger to her lips.

The house was a typical bungalow. Most likely two bedrooms downstairs and an attic or possibly a finished room upstairs. On the kitchen counter was a fifth of vodka, a half-eaten bag of tortilla chips, and a Hershey’s bar.

“He’s well fed,” whispered Cordelia. “Every essential food group is represented, except for one.”

They checked inside all the cupboards and one tall broom closet, then passed into a long room that was probably meant to be both a living and dining room, completely empty of furniture. Entering a hallway, they stood in front of a bathroom. On either side were the bedrooms. One door was open, one closed. Shining the flashlight in through the open door, Jane found nothing but another empty room. The closet door was open, no clothes inside.

Cordelia opened the other door. “Mia?” she whispered.

Jane came over and stood behind her. On the floor, tucked into the far corner, were a sleeping bag, a digital clock radio, a stack of newspapers, a six-pack of bottled water, and two cans of Jolt.