apologize, but I
think you’ll soon see that I have the best of intentions.”
I raised my eyebrows, working at composing a
suitable comeback, but the lights dimmed and the two guitarists
came to the stage. They played some perfectly beautiful jazz; but
the theatre was warm, and the drugs still must have been affecting
me because I felt myself sliding toward unconsciousness again.
Hammie leaned into me, keeping me upright with his shoulder, and I
struggled to keep my eyes open and failed.
I might have fallen into a dead sleep and
stayed that way for the entire concert except that the auditorium
exploded into applause as the vocalist arrived on stage. She was a
majestic black woman with a fabulous voice that vibrated in my
chest. My eyes came open and stayed open as she sang. I’d never
heard anything like her before.
After the encore, Hammie led me into the
lobby. There were a couple of men from Senator Wallace’s entourage
close behind me, and the blonde in the red coat was behind them
trying to push by. A State Trooper in dress uniform made his way
toward us, and Moose appeared beside me, reached his arm around and
clipped the nylon handcuff which fell to the floor as Moose whisked
me away from Hammie and the Trooper and escorted me out of the
lobby and into the waiting car.
“Why did you bother handcuffing me at all if
you were going to take it off at the first sign of trouble? I sat
through that whole concert handcuffed to Hammie, even though there
was no way for me to get away unless I climbed over the backs of
chairs in these damn shoes, and then you uncuff me right in the
lobby where I could easily get away? I don’t understand you
people.”
Mostly I was disgusted with myself. Why
hadn’t I screamed or made a fuss? The perfect moment to get
rescued, and I’d done nothing. Stupid.
Marshall Moore, aka Moose, locked me into the
back of the limo and slid into the driver’s seat. He rolled down
the privacy window. I wanted to hate Moose and Hammie. It felt
stupid not to hate them, but I couldn’t get the emotion to build.
They were nice to me, and I had the distinct feeling that they
weren’t happy about being involved in whatever this was.
I knew it had to be about the death of the
woman. I knew they probably were privy to the details. I hoped they
hadn’t done it. It was obvious that Hammie could have done it. He
seemed to have some very specialized skills. Trained in special
services? I thought it was likely. I didn’t want them to know who
killed Lily Carver Wallace, but I couldn’t get around the fact that
they probably did.
“You look like you smelled something rotten,”
Moose said to me. “What’s up?”
“What’s up? Don’t pretend innocence with me,
Moose. I’m in California listening to a jazz concert with a Senator
Wallace, who I’ve never even heard of before, instead of at home in
Vermont taking care of my farm.”
“When you put it like that.” Moose shrugged.
“It does sound a little fishy. Powerful men like the Senator are
used to getting what they want and don’t worry too much how they
make it happen. He pulled a lot of strings to get Hambecker on his
payroll just so he can make things happen.”
“So Hammie has a price. That’s not
surprising; everyone has a price.” But I was surprised and
disappointed. Somehow I thought he wouldn’t be motivated by money. Naive , I told myself. Swayed by a pretty face.
“Wallace isn’t paying Richard,” Moose turned
toward me. “He’s got something on Richard’s dad. I don’t know the
details, but I think he paid someone to blackmail him, and Richard
ended up on Wallace’s payroll as part of the deal.”
“Hammie’s dad is being blackmailed? Who is
he?”
“Do you remember the State Trooper who was
approaching you when I removed you from the lobby?”
“Removed me from the lobby. That’s an
interesting way of putting it. He was a handsome, older man. Had a
dress uniform on.”
“That’s Richard’s
think you’ll soon see that I have the best of intentions.”
I raised my eyebrows, working at composing a
suitable comeback, but the lights dimmed and the two guitarists
came to the stage. They played some perfectly beautiful jazz; but
the theatre was warm, and the drugs still must have been affecting
me because I felt myself sliding toward unconsciousness again.
Hammie leaned into me, keeping me upright with his shoulder, and I
struggled to keep my eyes open and failed.
I might have fallen into a dead sleep and
stayed that way for the entire concert except that the auditorium
exploded into applause as the vocalist arrived on stage. She was a
majestic black woman with a fabulous voice that vibrated in my
chest. My eyes came open and stayed open as she sang. I’d never
heard anything like her before.
After the encore, Hammie led me into the
lobby. There were a couple of men from Senator Wallace’s entourage
close behind me, and the blonde in the red coat was behind them
trying to push by. A State Trooper in dress uniform made his way
toward us, and Moose appeared beside me, reached his arm around and
clipped the nylon handcuff which fell to the floor as Moose whisked
me away from Hammie and the Trooper and escorted me out of the
lobby and into the waiting car.
“Why did you bother handcuffing me at all if
you were going to take it off at the first sign of trouble? I sat
through that whole concert handcuffed to Hammie, even though there
was no way for me to get away unless I climbed over the backs of
chairs in these damn shoes, and then you uncuff me right in the
lobby where I could easily get away? I don’t understand you
people.”
Mostly I was disgusted with myself. Why
hadn’t I screamed or made a fuss? The perfect moment to get
rescued, and I’d done nothing. Stupid.
Marshall Moore, aka Moose, locked me into the
back of the limo and slid into the driver’s seat. He rolled down
the privacy window. I wanted to hate Moose and Hammie. It felt
stupid not to hate them, but I couldn’t get the emotion to build.
They were nice to me, and I had the distinct feeling that they
weren’t happy about being involved in whatever this was.
I knew it had to be about the death of the
woman. I knew they probably were privy to the details. I hoped they
hadn’t done it. It was obvious that Hammie could have done it. He
seemed to have some very specialized skills. Trained in special
services? I thought it was likely. I didn’t want them to know who
killed Lily Carver Wallace, but I couldn’t get around the fact that
they probably did.
“You look like you smelled something rotten,”
Moose said to me. “What’s up?”
“What’s up? Don’t pretend innocence with me,
Moose. I’m in California listening to a jazz concert with a Senator
Wallace, who I’ve never even heard of before, instead of at home in
Vermont taking care of my farm.”
“When you put it like that.” Moose shrugged.
“It does sound a little fishy. Powerful men like the Senator are
used to getting what they want and don’t worry too much how they
make it happen. He pulled a lot of strings to get Hambecker on his
payroll just so he can make things happen.”
“So Hammie has a price. That’s not
surprising; everyone has a price.” But I was surprised and
disappointed. Somehow I thought he wouldn’t be motivated by money. Naive , I told myself. Swayed by a pretty face.
“Wallace isn’t paying Richard,” Moose turned
toward me. “He’s got something on Richard’s dad. I don’t know the
details, but I think he paid someone to blackmail him, and Richard
ended up on Wallace’s payroll as part of the deal.”
“Hammie’s dad is being blackmailed? Who is
he?”
“Do you remember the State Trooper who was
approaching you when I removed you from the lobby?”
“Removed me from the lobby. That’s an
interesting way of putting it. He was a handsome, older man. Had a
dress uniform on.”
“That’s Richard’s
Similar Books
