Tarnished Image (40 page)

He also heard the phone ring.

Kristen was seated on the edge of the couch wearily rubbing her eyes. She had been deep asleep when the knocking came at the door. It had taken her a moment to realize that it was
not part of a dream. She stood and took a few steps toward the door.
Where is David?
she wondered.
He was just here. Maybe he’s in the bathroom or he went to bed. I bet he forgot his card key.

When she was three steps from the door, the phone rang.

“Unbelievable,” Kristen said to herself. She started to turn away from the door and toward the phone, when there was another knock. She felt torn between the two. Since the phone had an answering device—she had left several messages on it herself—she opted for the door.

The phone rang again.

Kristen turned the lock and put her hand on the doorknob. A disquiet, nebulous and undefined, percolated within her. Attributing the feeling to the lateness of the hour, Kristen turned the round knob. The door opened easily.

“Forget some—?” she asked as the door swung open. Her words choked in her throat. Before her stood a woman with red hair cut in the same fashion as hers and wearing clothes similar to those in her own closet.

“Like looking in a mirror, isn’t it, darling?”

The voice was wrong, but Kristen couldn’t put her finger on it. Her heart seized as the woman in the doorway brought a gun up and pointed it in her face. She backed up as the mystery woman stepped forward.

The phone rang again. It seemed to annoy the woman. Kristen watched as her eyes darted around the room then returned her gaze to Kristen. Without taking her eyes from her, the woman set an aluminum briefcase on the floor.

“Where is he?”

“Who?”

The intruder’s face hardened; her eyes seem to spark like struck flint. “Get real, woman! Whose suite are we in?”

The truth of the situation flooded Kristen’s mind. This must be one of the people responsible for all of David’s trouble. She felt foolish for opening the door.

“I asked you a question.” The woman’s voice dropped a full octave.

“He was called out of state.”

The unwanted visitor charged forward with eye-blurring speed. Instinctively Kristen flinched, attempting to dodge the rapidly approaching fist. The blow staggered Kristen, who tottered backward, her jaw aflame with pain. The impact was so stunning that she didn’t remember falling or landing on the carpeted floor.

She blinked hard. Her vision was blurry, and there was a profound ringing in her ears. The skin tightened along her jaw as the tissue beneath began to swell. As her eyes cleared she noticed that the woman with red hair was gone.

Was it over?

Kristen willed herself to rise. She stumbled on uncertain feet. Grabbing the back of the couch, she steadied herself. Faintness descended on her. Nausea welled up like a pot boiling over on a stove.

As she waited for her equilibrium to return, Kristen looked around the room. The door was still closed. The metal briefcase was still there. The sight of it made her heart sink. Why would she leave the briefcase?

A sound to her right hooked her attention. She snapped her head around and immediately regretted the motion. Pain raced down her neck and back. She saw the woman exiting David’s bedroom.

“I didn’t find O’Neal, but I did find this.” She was pulling Timmy by the arm.

“Ouch,” Timmy protested. He rubbed his eyes. “Leave me alone.”

“Shut up, kid.” The woman pushed Timmy forcefully. He stumbled forward and fell to his knees. A cry of pain erupted from his lips.

“Leave him alone.” Kristen wondered how this woman could be so mean. Kristen stepped forward, her hands clenched into tight fists.

The woman raised the gun and pointed it at Timmy. “Careful lady,” she croaked. “I’m trained to do things that would give the Mafia nightmares.”

“Who are you?” Kristen demanded.

“A professional with a job to do. Now where is O’Neal?”

“I told you.”

“That he left the state? O’Neal is out on bail. He’s required to stay in California. Now tell me where he is or I start hurting people.”

“I don’t know,” Kristen said forcefully. Anger and indignation were replacing fear.

“Another lie?” The woman raised an eyebrow.

“It’s the truth. I fell asleep on the couch. When I woke up, he was gone. I thought you were him.”

The woman glared at Kristen, who felt as if she were being examined with eyes that could see right through her. “Do you think he left the building?”

“I told you that I don’t know. He said nothing to me, and even if he did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“You’re a bad man,” Timmy said. “Go away. Leave us alone. We don’t like you. Go away.”

Bad man?
That was it! Timmy had seen what Kristen couldn’t. This wasn’t a woman, it was a man dressed to look like her.

“I told you to shut up, kid.”

“No. I don’t have to. You’re not my boss.”

The man took a step toward Timmy.

“No,” Kristen cried. “Timmy, be quiet.”

“But—” Timmy began.

“No, Timmy,” she commanded forcibly. “No more talking. I don’t want to have to tell you again. Do you understand?” Kristen felt remorse for yelling at Timmy, but he didn’t understand the danger, couldn’t conceive of the madness of the man with the gun.

“OK,” Timmy said. He got up off the floor slowly and sat on the couch. “I’m sorry.”

Kristen’s heart sank. Timmy was trying to be brave. A man, dressed as a woman, broke into the suite, rousted him out of bed, held him at gunpoint, pushed him to the floor, and she yelled at him. Tears welled up in her eyes. She would explain it all to him over an ice cream sundae when this was all over—assuming they survived.

“You’re quick, lady. I’ll give you that.” The man no longer made an attempt to alter his voice.

“David’s not here, so why don’t you just leave?”

“Yeah, right. I went through weeks of planning so that I could get up here and say, ‘Gee whiz, this didn’t work out the way I wanted. I guess I’ll go home now.’ ” He waved the gun at the sofa. “Sit down.”

Kristen complied. “Now what?’

“Now we wait.”

David exited the communications office with a manila folder in his hand. It was the written report about the Bangladesh
workers. He was ecstatic. He had just finished speaking with two Barringston workers previously thought lost. The night before the tsunami struck, they had taken the children of the orphanage to Ramu. Everyone was safe—at least in Bangladesh. There were still two missing workers in India.

Despite the time, David had called the families of the workers to let them know that their loved ones were safe. They were two of the best calls he had ever made. Now he looked forward to telling Kristen.

At the bank of elevators, David inserted his card key. The middle elevator opened immediately. David stepped in, reinserted his key, and depressed the button marked 53. The elevator began its short ride up.

A soft ding sounded his arrival, and David stepped from the elevator car. As he did, something caught his attention. He paused and turned. The doors to the elevator next to the one he had just been in were open.

Odd
, he thought. Stepping to the elevator, David looked in. The doors remained opened. Bits of brown tape hung from the handrail. David walked in. Something dark and moist on the floor caught his attention. Squatting down, he took a closer look. He touched it with his middle finger. Red. Sticky.

Turning, David noticed another piece of tape across the door. He crossed the threshold into the lobby, took hold of the tape, and pulled. The doors immediately closed.

A deep piercing flash of fear stabbed him. It was falling into place. He studied the deep rust red smudge on his finger. Blood. But whose blood?

A sudden storm of anxiety swept in. Kristen! Timmy! He had to be sure they were safe. The guard. Where was the
guard? David had not seen him when he left the suite. His mind was so fixed on the discovery of the workers that he had not even thought to wonder at the watchman’s absence.

Cautiously, David first worked his way to the corridor, which he surveyed closely looking for any clues that an intruder might be present. He saw none.

He came to the door of his suite and placed his hand on the doorknob. The door should have been locked. He remembered locking it as he left. As slowly as he could, he began to turn the knob. It turned easily. It was unlocked. Had Kristen awakened and stepped into the hall to look for him? Could he take that chance?

The answer was no. He faced a dilemma. On the other side of the door were the two people he loved most. They could be in danger. They might even be dead.

His first impulse was to charge through the door and attack. But he hesitated. Not out of fear for his own life, but out of fear that he might fail and become the cause of Kristen and Timmy’s death.

Think
, he told himself.
Think.

Gently, David returned the doorknob to its previous position. He leaned forward, pressing his ear to the door and holding his breath. He listened.

“He doesn’t answer his radio.”

Calvin looked at the older guard and saw the concern in his eyes. “There’s no answer at David’s either. Something is wrong, very wrong.” He began to pace. “We have two missing guards, an unknown woman who looks like Kristen, and no one is answering at David’s.”

“I think we should call the police,” the young guard said.

Calvin ignored him. “Let’s assume for a moment that your guards have been taken out of commission. That means the perpetrator may have one of their radios. She will be able to listen in on all transmissions. That makes the radios useless.”

“So what do we do?” the Barringston guard asked.

“You call the police,” Calvin said to the older guard, then to the young rent-a-cop he ordered, “You talk to the other guards. Don’t use the radio. Understand? Walk over to them and tell them to take a position out of sight but near any possible exits. If this person is associated with the ones who have been setting David up, I doubt she would have any compunction about putting a bullet in someone’s head. Including yours. Have you got that? We don’t need any John Waynes here tonight.”

“But she’s just a woman,” the younger guard protested.

Calvin’s clenched his jaw. “She’s surely armed, and you’re not.” Calvin regretted not insisting on armed guards. David had nixed the idea, fearing that it would cause undo concern among the employees who had enough on their minds. “A fast-moving bullet doesn’t care who fired it. A gun is a great equalizer. She might be half your size, but with a gun she’s a giant. Besides, she may not be working alone. The best we can do is observe. The police can take it from there.”

“What are you going to do?” the older guard asked.

“I’m going up,” Calvin replied flatly. “You have a master card key, don’t you?’

“Yes.”

“Give it to me.”

“I’m not sure that’s wise. Especially if she may have taken out two guards already.”

“Give me the key. I’m going up.”

Reluctantly the guard passed the card key to Calvin. Calvin started toward the elevators.