Twenty-One

I hung around downtown Bellows Falls for a while that afternoon, conscious that time was sliding away and that I had promised Detective Shaye I would soon be departing. But my unfinished task rattled around in the back of my mind, like the thought of an unpaid bill to someone I owed a debt to. It had to be paid, had to be addressed.

As I drove, parked, and then drove again, I kept on thinking of Carla Pope and how vulnerable she had been, how light she had felt when I had escorted her into the Springfield Hospital.

There. Right across the street from O’Halloran & Son, Tracy Zahn strolled confidently down the sidewalk, heading to her place of work. She had on a short black skirt, short light tan jacket, and a confident bearing.

She was good to look at.

I got out and went across the street, joined her as she was walking to the front door, and if I startled her, she kept it under wraps.

“Oh! Look who’s here … my own personal man of mystery.”

“Among other things, I hope,” I said, sliding my arm into hers. “Can I bother you for a few moments?”

“That’d be great. I’d love to be bothered.”

I escorted her into the office, where the handsome young lad manning the front—Patrick, I think his name was—gave Tracy a big grin as she came into view. He said, “Tracy, don’t forget, you’ve got a viewing out at the Glynn property in fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks, Pat,” she said, and she tried to maneuver toward her desk, but I kept on propelling her to the rear, where the conference room was located.

I opened the conference room door and said, “Sounds like a busy afternoon. How much time do we have?”

“About two or three minutes,” she said, smiling slyly at me. “Not enough time to do much.”

“Oh, I’ll see what we can do.”

I closed the door behind me.

I think down in her cellular level, with the long-distant species memories of being out on the wide savannahs of Africa, she sensed some sort of danger. Like catching the scent of a far-off cheetah. But I kept my smile wide and inviting as I invited her to take a chair. I took one opposite her, making sure the door was behind me.

With the sound of the shutting door, Tracy’s concern grew, and her legs and arms shifted, like unconsciously she was prepared to fight or flight. I wasn’t worried about her fighting, and with me in front of the door, I also wasn’t concerned about her flighting either.

“So,” she said, trying to keep a cheerful tone in her voice. “What can we do in two or three minutes?”

“Depends,” I said. “But I’m pretty sure I can kill you and Patrick, set the place afire, and then get out of here in about five minutes.”

Her face paled right out, like the blood had decided to stop circulating right above her neckline. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I know exactly who I am,” I said. “The question is, who are you?”

Eyes wide, Tracy glanced around and I said, “Sit right there. If you want to still be breathing by the time the sun sets, you just sit there.”

“Please,” she whispered.

“I ask the questions, you answer with no dancing around, and progress will be made. And I’m a big fan of progress.”

A sudden nod. “Okay.”

“How much were you paid? By George or whoever worked for him?”

There was a long second or two, when the rational part of her—how in God’s name can I be under threat, here in my home town and my own office—was debating with the base part of her brain that was sensing extreme danger emanating from the man across from her, like infrared heat from an open oven door.

“A thousand dollars, to start,” she whispered.

“As what, rental for the house on Timberswamp Road?”

“The cash … it was so easy, I mean … ”

“I know. Business sucks. And a thousand dollars … you’d take that, no questions asked. I don’t blame you.”

Another nod. “He … he told me they were filming some sort of movie. All he needed it was for twenty-four hours, in perfect privacy. He promised the place would be left untouched when he was finished.”

“I’m sure. But all that easy money coming your way … What a temptation. You called him right after I left that showing, true? And you encouraged me to meet with that hulk … Eddie Century. I’m sure you thought Eddie would slow me down, hurt me so that George or his friend could catch up with me if I was dinged up at the hospital.”

I didn’t think it was possible that her face could grow more pale, but it surely did. I was almost convinced I could see the veins under her skin. “That’s right.”

“That gain you another paycheck?”

“Yes.”

“Then you invited me to sneak into your condo at night when I was done meeting with Eddie Century. But I rang the front door. I didn’t like the thought of sneaking in the back door. A single woman like yourself could shoot an intruder like me, and get away with it.”

“I … I … why do you say that?”

“I saw you moving around after I rang the doorbell, like you were trying to conceal something. And when you led me upstairs, I smelled oil. A special kind of oil. Gun oil. That must have been one heck of a payout, to shoot me dead in your condo’s rear entrance.”

“I … I … ”

“Things that tough?”

“Yes … but please, I tried to protect you. I really did.”

“Without saying anything?”

“No … I couldn’t dare say anything … but I did my best to protect you.”

Something I hadn’t thought about came to me. “I’ll be … you told Detective Shaye I was at the Putney Homestead, didn’t you. Pretty damn clever.”

Tracy started rubbing her hands together, tight and tighter, like she was trying to break her own fingers. “I thought that if you were arrested, you’d be in custody. Until George left the area. I … hoped it would protect you.”

“Some thinking.”

“Please … ”

Enough, I thought. Enough. I reached to my side, took out my Beretta, and she stared at it. I said, “Just to make my point, and one more question. You’ve done very good … so far.”

Tracy couldn’t speak anymore. She just nodded.

I said, “Did you only talk to George?”

“Yes, that’s all,” she managed to say.

“Anybody else?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“God, yes, please … ”

I put the Beretta back under my coat. “Very good. We’re done here.”

Her eyes were filled with tears and I said, “I mean it. I’ll be heading out and nothing will happen, just as long as you don’t talk to anyone. Do you understand what I’m saying? Do I need to explain it any further?”

She shook her head. “No … no, you don’t.”

I got up from the chair. “Fine. Now put a smile on your face and walk me out the door. And if all goes well, we’ll never see each other, ever again.”

Tracy wiped at her eyes, nodded, and silently got up. I opened the door and went out into the office, and young Patrick turned and said, “Tracy, you’ve really got to get going to make that appointment.”

“I’ll be right along,” she said, her voice a bit stronger.

I leaned over and extended my hand. “Patrick, am I right?”

He grinned, shook my hand. “That’s right.”

“Glad to meet you,” I said. “Hey, if you get a moment, you know what you should do later today?”

Patrick was still smiling. “I don’t know, what’s that?”

“Buy a lottery ticket,” I said. “Even if you don’t know it, you’ve had one lucky day.”

Outside Tracy grabbed my arm, pulled me back, tried to kiss me. Her lips brushed my cheek and in my left ear she whispered, “Please, can I make it up to you? Please? I-I’m so sorry … so very, very sorry.”

I kissed her cheek and disentangled myself from her touch. “No,” I said.

“Please.”

“No,” I said. “And it’s not negotiable.”