One Fool At Least (3 page)

I rifled through my suitcase until I found a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. I slipped them on, as well as a pair of sandals. On a whim I grabbed my cell phone as well and left the room. I was following one of those instincts that Jack always wished I wouldn’t follow. It was two o’ clock in the morning.

I walked unsteadily down the hall, squinting in the light, and went to the elevator. Someone in one of the rooms was playing “Tequila Sunrise,” and it made me feel wistful. I pushed the elevator button and yawned while it whooshed open. Then I took it two flights down to Molly’s floor, making my way down the hallway until I reached 402. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting—I think I was actually going to wake Molly up to make sure she was all right.

But I happened to look left, into a shadowy room that held an ice maker and some vending machines, and I saw, first of all, the glowing tip of a cigarette; an instant later the smell of smoke assaulted me. The person stepped closer: it was him, the mystery man, looking rather disheveled and tired. His cigarette was just a stub; he put it out in an ashtray he had obviously stolen from the reception and then set it down on a little round table by the ice machine.

“You!” I said. “Who are you? And why are you following me? Do I know you?”

I held up my cell phone as though it were a gun.

“Where are you going at this time of night, little bride?” he asked me in a rather oily tone. He took a cigarette pack out of his pocket and shook out another smoke. He was tall, gray-haired, and gangly, with a wrinkled but pleasant enough face. He wore blue jeans and cowboy boots and a gray T-shirt that said “I hate your cat” with a logo of legs and a tail sticking out from under a truck tire. He lit up his cigarette; his lighter briefly illuminated the
No Smoking
sign on the wall.

“It says
No Smoking
,” I said. “That’s a fire hazard.”

“It’s a hazardous world, Madeline. People need to be careful.” He sucked on the cigarette, and his face became suddenly gaunt and deathlike.

“You’ll get emphysema,” I said automatically. “And that sounds like a threat. I have a phone here, and I can call my husband or the police. Or I can pull that fire alarm there on the wall.” I didn’t like his mysterious attitude, and I didn’t like his proximity to Molly’s room. “I think you need to leave this hallway before I do call someone,” I said.

“Not yet, Baby. I wanted to talk to your little niece in there, but her dad was hanging around till a little while ago. So I guess I’ll talk to you.” He blew smoke out of his nose and coughed a little, like an unhealthy dragon.

I suppose I should have been afraid, but I felt protected with my phone and my proximity to the alarm. This man’s only weapon was a cigarette, as far as I could tell, and he looked too old and tired to be particularly frightening. “What about? I don’t know you. You’re a stranger.”

“Not any more, hon. You’ve gone and married into some complications.”

I stared at him, open-mouthed. Was he telling me that Jack had secrets? I had always seen myself as the one who muddled Jack’s life with my investigations and sometimes furtive behavior. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about. And I need to get back to my husband.”

“You do that.” He sucked again, dependent on his cigarette as the rest of us are on air. “And you pass on this message: give up Slider, or face the consequences.”

He gestured grandly toward the hall, as if to allow me to leave, grinning in a mockery of politeness. He had oil stains under his fingernails.

“I don’t know what that message means,” I said, not leaving. “And who should I say it’s from?”

“Well, that I’m not at liberty to tell you. I’m just a messenger like you. But they can bring Slider in—not to the police, mind you, but to a place we’ll specify—and that will protect the Sheas from any further trouble. You hear what I’m sayin’?”

I squinted at him, feeling befuddled in the fog of smoke. “Why did you have to come all the way to Illinois to pass on that message? We’ll be in Montana tomorrow.”

“I had to check for Slider, didn’t I? This would be a great place to stash him, seeing as they were coming out here anyway. But I’ve been watching, and I’m guessing he’s not here.”

“I certainly don’t know anyone named Slider,” I agreed. “And I didn’t send wedding invitations to anyone by that name. So maybe you’ve got the wrong family.”

“Not hardly,” he said.

“Why can’t you tell this to Jack, or Pat?”

“They said to tell Molly. She was not available, so I told you. See you in Montana.” He made his way down the hall and around the corner. I continued to stand there, my mind racing.

I went back to the room. Jack was just stirring in the bed. He squinted at me. “What?” he said, disoriented. “Why are you dressed? Where did you go?”

“Fourth floor,” I murmured, peering out the window. I couldn’t see the parking lot from our room. I had no idea if Nicotenus had left the hotel.

“Maddy. Come back to bed, for Pete’s sake. I’m sorry I fell asleep. Let’s try for number two. You said four, right? Well, I’m ready.”

I looked at Jack and started laughing. His eyes were still puffy with sleep, and he was smothering a yawn. I dove into bed, gave him a chaste kiss on his head, and said, “Go back to sleep, sweetie. I won’t leave again. I’ll be right here. I love you.”

“Kiss me,” he said, his eyes closed. He was still clinging to the belief that he could be virile and slumberous at the same time. “You smell like smoke,” he said, his brows furrowed in surprise.

“Someone was smoking in the hall.” I kissed his mouth lightly and stroked his hair until he fell back asleep. He was tired. I could pass on the bizarre message in the morning. Besides, it seemed more like it was a message for Jack’s family in Montana.

Now my family, too. I lay contemplating this as I looked at the ceiling, waiting for the Sandman, who didn’t come for another hour.

In the morning
Jack was much more willing to try for a second attempt, and it did take longer, as promised, because he devoted himself to a minute inspection of my body, and it was I, this time, who was half asleep, having been up until at least three wondering what was going on. “Mmmm,” I moaned, as Jack’s warm mouth traveled here and there. “That’s a nice way to wake up.”

Jack said something into my stomach, and I suddenly tensed. “Jack. I forgot. We need to talk. There’s something I have to tell you.”

My tone must have told him that I wasn’t kidding, and he looked at me in disbelief. I wondered if he actually thought I was going to ask for a divorce on the first day of our marriage, immediately after lovemaking. “Come up here,” I said softly. “I have to tell you what happened. It’s not about us, it’s about your family.”

Jack’s brows drew together as he crawled back up my torso. “What about them?”

“Last night I remembered this man. I was talking to him when we got here, do you remember? And he had 402 written on his hand.”

“What?”

“And after you fell asleep I realized that 402 was Molly’s room number. So I went down there, because I was worried, and he was there, outside her room.”

“
What
?” Jack yelled.

“I confronted him. It was two in the morning; there was no one around. And he said he was a messenger, and he was supposed to find Molly and give a message to the Sheas.”

“What?” Jack asked a third time, sitting up straight.

“He said he would give the message to me instead. That I was supposed to tell your family to give up Slider, or face the consequences. Or something like that. Who’s Slider, Jack?”

Jack looked stunned. “I have no idea. You’re sure he said the Sheas?”

“Yes. And I asked him why he didn’t deliver that message in Montana—because Jack, I think this guy followed your family out here, I think he might have been at our reception—and he said he had to make sure they weren’t hiding this Slider somewhere while they were out here.”

“This is weird. You didn’t dream this?”

“There’s one way to prove it.”

Jack nodded and jumped off the bed and went to the room phone. “Pat? Listen, we need to talk. No, maybe we should do this in person. Can we meet for breakfast before the airport? Yeah. There’s a little coffee shop in the lobby. Yeah, something is up. Something happened to Madeline, and—no, she’s okay, but apparently—never mind, just meet us at about nine o’clock, okay?”

Jack hung up and came back to me, looking thoughtful. “It’s so strange. Did he scare you, Maddy? Did he threaten you?”

I shook my head. “No, he really didn’t. He almost killed me with cigarette smoke, but he was friendly in a bizarre way. I was just confused. It was surreal.”

Jack sat down next to me, still naked.

“Jack?”

“Hmmm?”

“There’s something that scares me more than him.”

“What?”

“I’m kind of scared about the plane.”

“Maddy, I thought we had this all worked out. I’ve got the valium for you to take. You’ll be so relaxed when you board that you won’t even remember you’re afraid.” He rubbed my back gently.

Jack was one of the few people who knew that I’d never been on a plane, never wanted to be, due to a phobia that had grown since childhood, ever since I’d first seen the results of a big commercial jet crash on the news. The blackened plane, the growing body count, the wreckage floating on the water, the occasional human possession bobbing to the surface, like a wallet or a shoe or a doll….

“And I’ll be right beside you. I won’t let anything happen to you. I’d land the plane myself rather than let you be harmed.”

I laughed into my pillow, enjoying the back rub. Then I turned toward him. “This isn’t going to ruin our honeymoon, is it?”

Jack laughed. “How could it possibly? We’ll just sort things out with my brother and then leave all mystery behind us.”

I nodded. My vibes were telling me a different story, but that wasn’t something Jack would want to hear.

* * *

The coffee shop was just a tiny place, but we pushed two tables together for this family conference. Jack asked me to relate what the man had told me the night before, which I did. I described the man for them, and Pat said he didn’t sound specifically familiar, although it could describe a lot of men he knew here and there. When I mentioned the name Slider, Pat stiffened, Libby shook her head, and Molly let out a yelp.

“Who is he, Pat?” Jack asked.

Pat sighed. He looked a bit like Jack this morning, but slightly shorter and grayer, and perhaps twenty pounds heavier. Pat had a smaller nose and a thinner mouth, but overall there was a strong resemblance between the brothers, especially in their blue-gray eyes. At thirty-six, Pat was seven years older than his brother; certainly rather young to be the father of teens, but he’d married right out of high school, which is why his twins were on the verge of graduation themselves. T.J., Jack’s younger brother by two years, was a brand new father, and his wife Trina had stayed back home with their newborn.

Pat touched his daughter’s hand reassuringly, and said, “Slider is a boy from our town. He’s Molly’s boyfriend, as a matter of fact. He’s been missing for well over a month, and his disappearance coincides with a murder that took place in Grand Blue. The first murder in about twenty years. Our local bartender, Finn Flanagan, was shot dead in his restaurant bar late one night. Place called Flanagan’s. You’ve been there, Jack.”

Jack nodded, acknowledging this.

“The next day Slider turned up missing. His father’s been to our place a few times, asking if we know where he is. But we don’t. Not that we’d tell Slider’s father if we did. He’s been pretty rotten to the kid ever since Mrs. Cardini died. Angelo, the dad, is just a plain drunk now. Anyway, we thought Slider might try to contact Molly, but he hasn’t, and we’re getting concerned. Like maybe Slider met with foul play, as well.”

“Or saw something he wasn’t supposed to see,” Molly added darkly.

“Like murder?” I asked.

Pat shrugged. His wife said, “But this means that someone wants Slider back in town for some reason. That seems sinister to me. He said not to go to the police, right? The boy is obviously in danger, which he must have known. He’s a clever boy, Slider, and he’s had a rough life. He’s one of those kids that’s good in spite of everything, you know?” She looked at her son, who up until now had been silent in his wheelchair.

Molly turned to me. “It was Slider who pulled Mike out of his car when he got in the crash. Mike was alone on this dark road in the middle of the night. It was right after a party. Slider was there—”

“Why was Slider on a dark road?” asked Jack.

“No one knows. Mike doesn’t remember any of it, do you, Mike?”

Mike blushed for some reason, and looked at his lap. “Not that part. Just up to that point, I guess. I don’t remember crashing the car, or anything except waking up in the hospital, and seeing Mom there with that look on her face.” Mike felt guilty about it, I realized. Guilty for what he’d put his parents through, perhaps. Maybe he’d been going too fast, goofing around.

Molly met my eyes again. “Mike didn’t like Slider before then. He told me Slider wasn’t good enough for me. But after that, they were friends, weren’t you, Mike?”

“Yeah. He’s a good guy,” Mike said. His eyes looked everywhere except at other eyes. Mike didn’t like the topic of conversation, I thought.

When our pancakes came, Pat summed up the situation. “In any case, Madeline, I’m sorry that man talked to you, and I hope he didn’t frighten you too much. When we get back to town, I’ll mention something to the sheriff. I’m going to say something to Rad Whalley, too—he’s the editor of our local paper. Maybe he can work something into the latest Finn Flanagan update, making it clear that the Sheas know nothing of Slider’s whereabouts. I mean, this is so unbelievable—” He scratched his jaw and shook his head.

“We need to make that clear to whomever out there is interested. We have no link to Slider, at least not to his current whereabouts. Meanwhile you and Jack can forget all about it and just enjoy your love nest.”

Pat Shea’s wedding present to us had been the reservation of his rental property. North of Great Falls, but south of Canada and the wild beauty of Alberta, lay a town called Grand Blue, Montana. It wasn’t Jack’s birthplace—he’d grown up near Helena, close to hundreds of miles of national forestland—but it was in Grand Blue that Pat had settled years before with his young wife and the baby twins. Eventually T.J. and Jack’s parents had relocated to be closer to what, back then, had been their brand new grandbabies; they lived about two hours south of Pat.