Killer Career (28 page)

Jensen gestured toward the nearest chair. “Sit down. Make yourself
comfortable. While you go over the papers, I’ll get you some coffee
to warm you up. I must warn you, I did come up with a few last minute
provisions. You may wish to read them over beforehand. Let’s see,
where did I put that list? Ah, yes, I believe it’s over there, by
the far computer.”

Jensen sauntered across the room and returned with a printed sheet.
“There you go,” he said, handing the paper to Dade. “No sense
in spending money if I can’t get everything I want.”

“Very true.”

“And now for the coffee.”

Dade glanced down at the list. A central office for visiting
executives. Okay, that would work. A gym. That could be arranged. A
daycare center? What was that all about? Had Julie heard about it?
Probably not. It was probably one of the last minute provisions.

The daycare center would be a problem. It would need accreditation.

Hearing a scraping sound, he glanced up to find Jensen depositing a
lacquer tray on the nearby table.

“Many have been known to complain about my coffee, so I took the
liberty of bringing extra cream and sugar, just in case.”

Dade nodded and absently picked up the steaming mug. How should he
approach this clause? How adamant was Tyler? Damn, the man was
right. The coffee was bitter, in fact awful. Making coffee was
definitely not one of his talents. The Great Mystery Writer had at
least one kink in his armor.

Better to forget personalities and get this done. No matter how
appalling the taste, he could use more caffeine to get through this
mess. He reached for the cream and sugar, applied them liberally and
took a huge swallow. At least the concoction was warm going down.

“I don’t foresee many problems with these issues, except for the
daycare thing. How strong are you on that point? There’s no way we
can push that through today.”

Tyler gave him a small smile. “Well, that’s just a little
something I thought up on the spur of the moment, a way to get the
kiddies out of the parents’ hair when needs be. What do you think
of the idea?”

Dade smothered a yawn. Damn, he was tired. The lines on the paper ran
together. The coffee should have perked him up, but apparently he was
past that.

“It’s not a question of like or dislike, but feasibility. There
are ordinances to consider.” Was it his imagination or were his
words coming out ultra slow?

“You do have a keen mind. I’m sure nothing gets past you. You’ll
figure it out,” Tyler said, with a strange look in his eyes.

“Maybe they’ll go along with a contingency clause. That’s all I
can think of at the moment.”

Damn, he was surprised he could think at all, much less speak.
Fighting the snow storm on the way over must have taken a lot more
out of him than he’d realized. When he got this job over with, he
was definitely calling it a day. He could hardly wait.

Tyler glanced at his watch. “It’s almost meeting time. We
certainly don’t want to be late. I think I’ll bring some coffee
along for the ride. What about you?”

“No, thanks.” Dade turned his glance away from the thermos in
Jensen’s hand. He’d had enough. The stuff was nasty and made him
want to heave. How could Jensen drink it?

Dade rose from the recliner. The room lurched crazily. Sweat broke
out on his brow. Damn, Jensen kept this place hot. Well, that was his
choice. He paid for the joint.

Right now fresh air would feel mighty good.

The elevator opened onto the garage level. Dade stumbled out. Jensen
accompanied him to the BMW. Dade clicked open the doors and turned to
Jensen. “Climb in.”

“I’ve got a better idea. Let’s take separate cars. Then we can
go our own way later.”

Fine, he didn’t care for Jensen’s company either.

Dade’s tongue felt swollen as he tried to form the words, “All
right.” His heart pounded strangely. He couldn’t concentrate, but
for some reason his thoughts fastened on the question of which fancy
car Jensen would choose to drive. Not that it mattered.

He almost fell into the driver’s seat of the BMW. He turned the
ignition switch on. Jensen was saying something, but he couldn’t
hear him. With clumsy fingers, Dade hit the button, opening the
window halfway.

Jensen leaned toward Dade. “Are you all right?”

“I feel kind of funny. I don’t know what’s wrong.” To his own
ears, his voice sounded far away. “Ah, that would be the sleeping
pills taking effect. The ones I put in your coffee.”

“What are you talking about?” Dade tried to focus on the man’s
face, which faded in and out.

“It’s simple, Donovan. I’ve won and you’ve lost. Julie’s
mine. I could have had her already, if you hadn’t survived the car
crash that should have done you in.”

Jensen’s admission made Dade’s head whirl or was it the sleeping
pills? “You cut the brake line?” he said, almost stupidly.

“That’s right, pea-brain. Did you forget? You’re only a
lawyer, while I’m the weaver of master plots, the Great Mystery
Writer. Poor you. You really didn’t stand a chance. Just like that
insipid secretary of yours, Nora what’s-her-name, who got in the
way. It was easy to subdue her and hang her with her closet cord.”

Deep inside Dade was appalled, yet for some strange reason relieved.
He’d carried guilt for the other driver’s death, as well as
Nora’s, but now, like a debt wiped clean, his conscience was
cleared. Both had been Jensen’s fault.

That meant - - shit, Jensen was off the deep end. The sleeping pills
were real. This was no joke. The gears in Dade’s head turned
slowly, ingesting the implications.

If he didn’t act now, he’d land in the same boat as the hapless
driver of the Cavalier. What could he do? His brain was already
floating. His body felt waterlogged. He could barely think, much less
move. Damn, something had told him not to come here, but this was
beyond his wildest imaginings.

Un-drugged he stood on equal ground with Jensen, but unfortunately,
that was not an option. His opponent now held a clear shot. To make
matters worse, the man was a crackpot. God knows what could happen to
Julie in his hands.

Jensen didn’t deserve to have her. “I love her more than you,”
Dade said, as if that would change the lunatic’s mind.

“I don’t think so.” Jensen’s glittering eyes fastened on
Dade. “Would you kill for her?”

“If I had to.”

“Don’t lie to me. A dying man should always tell the truth. Face
it Donovan, you’re finished. If you try to ride out of here, you’ll
crack up. If you stay put, you’ll asphyxiate. I’ve got you where
I want you.”

As the words sank in, a chill rushed through Dade. He was putty in
Jensen’s hands. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. How much
longer did he have? Tonight? Tomorrow? Sunday? Exactly how long
would it take for a garage this size to fill up with enough fumes to
smother his passageways, cut off his oxygen and stifle his
heartbeats?

It shouldn’t end this way. He should at least have a chance to say
goodbye to Julie. Hell, she’d think he didn’t even have the guts
to live. She’d wonder what had driven him over the edge. Being
Julie, she’d probably blame herself.

Jensen would be there to hold her hand and whisper comforting words.
She’d never know the truth. Or, worse, would she? Would Jensen snap
again, focusing the next time on Julie for some imagined wrong? Would
she be his next victim?

Damn, he had to do something. He couldn’t let Jensen get away with
this. His only chance of survival was to hoof it. Once he breathed in
fresh air, maybe his mind would clear, that is, unless he’d already
overdosed on the sleeping pills.

He hadn’t had that much coffee. Maybe he still stood a chance. He
reached to turn off the ignition, but his fingers slipped. Maybe he
could get out of the car instead. Ignoring Jensen’s laughter, Dade
struggled with the door latch. Through enormous effort, he got it to
open a crack.

“Nice try, Donovan.” Jensen laughed louder, smashing the door
back, hitting Dade’s elbow in the process.

The drugs were at least good for something. Dade barely felt the
pain.

One thing for sure, he didn’t need Jensen’s taunts. Dade groped
for the window button to close out the sound. His hand felt so heavy,
it slipped down automatically. Before his fingertip could close on
the cold metal, a dark fog rolled in.

* * *

Tyler gazed down at the prone attorney slumped over the steering
wheel. “You stupid simp. You didn’t have a clue.”

The process had been simple. He’d counted on Donovan’s love and
jealousy to play a factor and they had. He was taking a life and
Donovan was giving a life, all for love.

He carefully placed the thermos bottle on the garage floor, then
pulled a pair of vinyl gloves from his pocket. With his telltale
fingertips covered, he reached inside the car and pressed the button
for the window to go all the way down.

That accomplished, he pulled the attorney away from the steering
wheel and opened the door. Stepping back, he retrieved the flask,
which had not been filled with coffee as Donovan thought, but whiskey
instead.

His stomach lurched, as the odor of the gathering fumes hit him. He
knew he had time, so he’d do the job right. Since it was a large
garage, it would take a while for the carbon monoxide to build up to
the danger level. By then, he’d be well out of danger, atop the
penthouse floor, fulfilling the remainder of his plan.

He leaned over and tilted Donovan’s head back. He opened the man’s
mouth and slowly poured in the liquid, letting it slide down his
throat. He had to be careful. It had to look natural.

Satisfied with the results, he screwed the cap back on and
repositioned the attorney so his head and shoulders once again leaned
against the steering wheel. That done, he rolled up the window,
clicked the lock, and shut the door with a resounding thud.

Taking a step away, Tyler viewed the results. A white film filled the
garage, turning thicker by the second. The thrum of the motor filled
his ears, growing louder in intensity. His head pounded, louder and
louder.

Through the gathering film, a familiar voice called out, “Robbie,
come.”

Why did she call him that? He’d told her to call him by his second
name, Tyler. She knew better.

“Did you hear me? Get out of here,” she said.

Her golden hair guided him through the film, lighting his way.

“What about--?” Befuddled, he glanced backward at the car.

“Forget about him. I’m all you need.” She pulled him away from
the mounting film. “You’re mine, only mine.”

The motor whirred in the background, as he was pushed along, out of
the garage. Inside the elevator, he still heard the hum. It drummed
louder, louder, building into a crescendo, making his temples throb
mercilessly.

Something bad was happening and he couldn’t do anything about it.
His head pounded as if it would burst. The elevator sped upwards to
the top floor.

In a daze, he stepped into the penthouse and looked around. Where was
she? She was supposed to be here, touching him, telling him he was
all that mattered.

“Mother, where are you?” he screamed.

Chapter Thirty-Two

“I didn’t expect you for a few more hours,” Dee said, as Julie
rounded the corner past her assistant’s desk.

“My second trial was postponed. The Arbitrator got the stomach flu.
I feel sorry for him, but it was a lucky break for me.”

Dee shuddered. “I wouldn’t want that.”

“Isn’t that the truth. So, what’s happening around here?”

“Oh, Dade went over to Jensen’s.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Well, Jensen called and said the inspection had to go ahead today
while the Granada Estate’s attorney was in town. Dade knew you were
tied up, so he found the file and headed over to cover for you.”

“That’s strange.”

“Why? You’d do the same for him, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course. That’s not what I meant. There must be a mistake. The
inspection’s not scheduled until next Friday. Also, the Estate’s
attorney is from the Chicago office.”

“That is strange.” Dee’s forehead puckered in confusion. “I
could have gotten the message wrong. I’ll check with Pam.”

“That’s okay. I’ll talk to her.”

After Julie had spoken to Pam, she was even more bewildered. As Dee
had said, over an hour ago Dade had told Pam he was filling in so the
Grand Granada deal wouldn’t get blown.

Poor Dade, doing her a favor when he had enough of his own work to
do. Maybe she could get him off the hook yet. If he were still at
Tyler’s, she could go there or at least meet Tyler at Grand
Granada.

“Pick up, pick up.” She drummed her fingers, waiting for Tyler to
answer the phone.

It was probably a waste of time. They were probably already on their
way to Grand Granada, or they were already there and the inspection
had begun.

“Yes,” Tyler answered.

“Hi, it’s Julie. I’m glad I caught you. My trial got cancelled.
Is there still time for me to come over?”

“Well, I’m certainly glad to hear from you. What kind of place
are you running? Your partner never showed up. The other lawyer is
due here any minute. We’ve got to firm up this deal or I’ll lose
it. Can you come?”

“But I thought--”

“Well, can you do it or not?”

“Yes, but my file’s not here. Dade took it with him. He must have
gotten caught in traffic. I’ll come over just in case. Maybe
there’s something I can do.”

“I want you to handle this. If your partner deigns to make an
appearance, I’ll instruct him to drop off the file and leave.”

“Fine. I’ll be right there as soon as I can.”

The whole thing was strange. The office wasn’t that far from
Tyler’s place. Why wasn’t he there? He was Mr. Dependable. Sure,
he didn’t particularly like Tyler, but he’d never go so far as to
wreck an important deal. Dade knew how much this meant to her. There
had to be some reason why he wasn’t there. God, what if he were in
another accident?