I had to get away now. I could not let Howard get me inside the van. The question was how. Screaming was futile at this point. I thought about Mom finding out that Howard had killed me. What would that do to her? Why had I been so rash?
Howard tightened his grip on me and stuffed his free hand into his pocket. He must be looking for his keys, I thought. This was my chance. I could kick him in the shins as hard as possible and try to make a run for it.
Suddenly, a whistling sound floated up the alleyway. I turned my head to see Lance stumbling toward us. He had a bottle of champagne in one hand and looked as if it were taking every effort to put one foot in front of the other. Whistling a tune I didn’t recognize, he swayed toward us.
“Darling, what are you doing here?” His words slurred together as he spoke.
Howard shoved his nails so deep into my wrist I could feel him draw blood. I stood as still as possible.
“Hey, Lance, what are you doing?” I replied.
Lance sang the verse from a song I didn’t know and waltzed toward us with the champagne bottle serving as his temporary partner. “Having a late-night cocktail, of course.” His head rocked from side to side. “Shhh! Don’t tell,” he whispered in a yell, “but I use this as my watering hole sometimes.”
My chance to escape had arrived in the form of a visibly drunk Lance. Not exactly ideal, but my position was looking much better than it had a few seconds ago.
Howard made a grunting sound under his breath.
Lance almost fell into me as he tried to kiss my cheek and missed. He tried with the second cheek and ended up kissing my hair. “You’re so beautiful, Juliet. Isn’t she beautiful?” he slurred to Howard. “She won’t get on the stage for me. I’ve begged and begged and she won’t do it. So much beauty wasted on pastry.” The champagne bottle rocked from side to side as he spoke.
Howard looked disgusted, but I could tell he was biding his time until Lance continued on.
“Come have a drink with me.” Lance tried to tug at my free arm, but Howard held his ground. I didn’t want to become caught in a tug-of-war, so I pushed Lance off.
“I can’t, it’s late.” I tried to catch his eye to give him a warning sign, but his eyes rolled back in his head.
“Oh, have a drink with your best friend,” he pleaded.
I was about to protest again when Lance caught my eye. His eyes were bright and alert. He gave me a covert nod and motioned for me to duck. He wasn’t drunk. Before I knew what he was planning, I ducked and he swung the champagne bottle at Howard’s head and knocked him to the ground.
Howard landed with a thud and was out cold.
I threw my arms around Lance. “How did you do that?”
“Acting, darling,” he said in a composed voice. “If I do say so myself, that was one of my best performances.” He held up the bottle. “Drink?”
Police lights and sirens flashed on the side street below.
“How did you get here before the police?”
“I got your message.”
“But how did you get here so fast?”
“I was having a drink here at the bar.”
“What?”
“After our elegant dinner I needed a nightcap so I wandered up here for a glass of bubbly. Call it divine timing.” He drank from the champagne bottle. I could see his hands trembling. For all his talk of drama, the reality of the danger we had just been in was starting to settle in.
“Thank you,” I said with deepest sincerity.
He scoffed. “It’s nothing, but does this mean you owe me? I wasn’t kidding about the stage.”
“No.” I wrapped my arm around his. “It does mean that I’ll walk you over to the police car. You’ve had a shock.”
“Ah, the heroine saves the hero. Classic,” Lance joked, but he didn’t resist as we walked arm in arm toward Thomas’s police car.
Thomas jumped out of the driver’s seat as the lights lit up the back alleyway.
“He’s over there.” I pointed to where Howard lay on the ground.
Thomas stared at me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I nodded to Lance.
“Here, come sit,” Thomas said, taking Lance’s arm and walking around to the passenger side.
Lance sat without a word of protest. I stayed with him as Thomas, followed by three other police officers, ran toward Howard.
“Do you think I killed him?” Lance shuddered.
“No.” I was fairly confident that was true.
“I mean, not that I care about that dastardly creature, but I wouldn’t want someone’s death on my hands. Imagine, I’d have to run around quoting, ‘Out, damned spot’ all the time.”
I knew that joking was his way of coping with the situation, so I played along. “It would make for good theater, though. And imagine the headlines: ‘Artistic Director Stages a Murder’.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“That’s why I work in pastry.” I grinned.
“Darling, you’ve ruined your beautiful outfit,” Lance noted.
I glanced down at my sweater and skirt; they were both covered in frosting and spotted with blood.
The back door of the hotel opened and the Professor rushed out. Thomas filled him in as the ambulance arrived on the scene. Paramedics carted Howard off. By the time they finished working on him, he was awake, if not fully alert.
“See, he’s fine,” I assured Lance.
Lance let out a long breath. “Glad to hear it. What happened to my champagne?”
“I’ll do you one better—how does a hot coffee sound?”
“Like something your mother would offer me.”
“Exactly. Wait here, I’ll be right back.”
I stopped to tell Thomas I was going inside to get Lance a coffee. “Good idea. He didn’t look so great,” Thomas replied, as he snapped photos of Howard’s van. “I never thought I’d see Lance shaken.”
“Me either. You want anything?”
“No, I’m good. I will need to take your statement though, and Jules, I have to warn you that you’re going to have to testify if Howard’s case goes to trial.”
“Testify?”
“Yeah, on both Evan’s murder and Howard’s attempted abduction of you.” Thomas’s voice caught for a moment.
I rubbed my wrist.
“Did he hurt you?”
I held out my arm and noticed that blood dripped from where Howard had grabbed me. “It’s not bad.”
Thomas gently rolled up the sleeve of my cashmere sweater and caressed my arm. “We’ll have someone clean that up for you, but I’ll need to take pictures of it first.”
“Should I wait on the coffee?”
“Yeah. Hang on a second. I don’t want you to wash your arm or go anywhere until I get photographic evidence. That will be critical to the DA’s case, especially since right now Howard’s attack on you is our entire case.” Thomas went to grab a camera and first aid kit from his squad car. “Let’s go inside. I want to make sure the lighting is okay for these photos.”
We stepped into the hotel and he clicked what felt like a hundred shots of my arm. When he finished he whipped out a first aid kit and carefully cleaned and bandaged my cuts. “Jules,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “If anything had happened to you I don’t know what I would have done.”
“I’m fine.”
He frowned. “I know, but I should have been here.”
The Professor called for his help. I was relieved that our conversation didn’t have to go any deeper, at least for the moment. The warmth of the hotel felt good, but the thought of having to testify against Howard didn’t. I would have been fine if I never saw him again. Word must have spread among the staff because a number of employees came down the hall together. One of them noticed me. “Do you need help, miss?”
“Actually, yes. I need coffee for my friend. He’s in a bit of a shock. Do you think someone could bring him some?”
“Of course. I’ll go get some right now.”
I thanked him and started toward the door when I heard a voice calling my name. I turned to see Sandi Kramer heading my way. A bellboy followed after her with a cart of expensive luggage. She adjusted her designer glasses and smoothed her wrinkle-free black tunic.
“You look like you’ve had a run-in with chocolate.” She squinted behind the black-framed buglike glasses.
“It’s been quite a night.” I told her about Howard.
She didn’t seem surprised. “Evan made as many enemies as he made friends in this business.”
“What about you?” I figured I didn’t have anything to lose at this point. “I heard that you were bribing Evan for a paid review.”
She checked a silver watch on her wrist. “I’m almost late for my flight, but no, that’s not entirely true. I did offer him an exclusive advertising opportunity, but nothing more.”
I wasn’t sure if I believed her or not. “Hey, one last thing—I think I overheard you on the phone in the bathroom. Was that about Evan?”
“Jules, you surprise me and I like it.” She scrunched her tight white curls. “You’re more ruthless than your ethereal pastry face lets on. You’d do just fine in New York.”
“Actually, I lived in New York when I was attending culinary school.”
She snapped her fingers twice. “Excellent. And who knows what call you’re talking about. My assistant has been driving me to drink. She cannot seem to make any decision without my approval. I’ve been on the phone with her nonstop since I arrived. The minute my plane lands, she’s getting fired.”
Sandi’s phone buzzed. She threw her arms out in disgust. “Case in point.” She waved the bellboy toward the lobby and answered her phone with a curt, “Now what?”
I returned outside where the Professor was taking Lance’s statement. A hotel worker followed behind me. Not only had he brought a steaming hot coffee for Lance but he brought one for me and a tray for the entire police staff.
“I could practically kiss you,” I said, taking the scalding cup from him. He grinned and went to deliver the rest of the drinks. I walked down to the police car with Lance’s coffee. I was safe and so were the people I loved, and now I had coffee. Who could ask for more?