‘As soon as possible. Why, are you booked today?’ Losing patience.
‘Not today. Tomorrow or Monday.’ When this had played out and he had Eve safely hidden. Where she couldn’t be taken away from him.
‘I’m sorry that your calendar is so full.’
‘If you want to help me, truly, Claudia, turn the police onto Greg Buckman. But he’s very dangerous.’
‘No. You should talk to the police with me. Or the DA’s office. I have a friend who works in Special Crimes; she can help us.’
‘I don’t want to talk to anyone but you right now.’
Claudia said nothing for several seconds then said, ‘I’m listening.’
‘Buckman lives at 3478 Alabama, number 12. It’s a fancy townhouse. He’s about six-one, maybe one sixty, thinning blond/brown hair, dresses very conservatively, like a Brooks Brothers poster boy.
He drives a silver Jaguar, late model. Vanity license plate of B-L-E-E-V.’
‘Believe?’
‘He’s a big fan of Chad Channing, the self-help guy.’ Frank had given him this information.
‘He sounds very frightening.’
‘I believe he has killed at least two people,’ Whit said.
‘There’s no mention of him in Harry’s records. His assistant gave those to the Houston police. She faxed me a copy this afternoon.’
That meant the police now knew the name Eve Michaels. ‘Harry mentioned Bucks in a phone conversation.’
‘Whit, you tell me the truth right this second. Have you found your mom or this Eve Michaels? Are you protecting her?’
‘Claudia, please.’
‘You have found her. Where are you?’
‘I can’t tell you. Please don’t ask me.’
‘Whit. Do you want the police actively looking for you or your mother as material witnesses? They are insistent on talking to you.’
‘I’m asking for your understanding.’
‘You’re asking me to suppress information related to two homicides. To Harry’s murder! I can’t. I’m a peace officer. You’re an officer of the court. You’ve sworn an oath, Whit. You-’
‘I’m asking you to get information. To follow Buckman, watch him. He killed Harry for this money, he’s got to have it hidden close to him. But no police, Claudia, please.’
‘You have freaking lost your mind,’ Claudia said.
‘Meet me,’ he said. ‘Meet me and I’ll explain. But no police. Just you and me.’
‘Of course I’ll meet you. Where?’
‘There’s a little Mexican restaurant off Montrose, on Richmond. Chapultepec’s. It’s in an old house. I’ll meet you there in thirty minutes.’
‘Fine,’ she said.
‘Claudia?’
‘Yes?’
‘I’ve really messed up,’ he said. ‘I thought I did the right thing and now, I know I’ve really messed up.’
‘We’ll fix it,’ she said, and he wanted to believe her. ‘I’ll see you in thirty.’
Claudia clicked off the phone. She wrote down the address and description for Greg Buckman. This morning she had driven to the murder site, drawn by a need to be close to where Harry died. But it was still roped off, under police tape. She didn’t get out of her car, drove by twice before heading back to her hotel. But now. Now she could do something. She picked up the phone.
‘Vernetta? I heard from my friend that was Harry Chyme’s client. I need you to come to a meeting with me.’ She sighed. ‘He won’t be happy about it but I need you to help me talk sense into him.’
Thirty minutes later, Claudia sat in a booth at Chapultepec’s, sipping water, nibbling from a mound of nachos. Vernetta sat four booths over, waiting for Whit to arrive and sit so she could join them. Claudia traced the beer rings on the worn wooden table with her fingertips, waiting for Whit, waiting to see if he was still the man she knew, afraid of what she had heard in his voice.
The nachos grew cold. Whit never showed.
31
Two Louis Vuitton bags, one for makeup and hair, one for clothes, were all his mother was taking to Vegas but to Paul her packing process was slower than moving mountains. He was ready to shove his mother out the door when Tasha pulled up in the circular driveway, ten minutes too early, in her little Honda.
Not what I need, Paul thought, but he smiled and gave Tasha a too-quick, just-friends hug, knowing his mother was watching from a window.
Tasha leaned back from him. ‘I stink now?’
‘No. I’m tense. Bad, bad day. Getting my mother out of town.’
‘Introduce me. I bet I make her want to stick around.’
He took her into the hallway. Frank Polo and Mary Pat Bellini were already in the foyer, Frank wheezing, with Mary Pat’s two packed-to-the-brim bags.
‘Mom,’ Paul said, ‘this is Tasha. She’s a friend of mine.’
‘How nice to meet you,’ Mary Pat Bellini said and her smile seemed to rise like a fence as she shook Tasha’s hand. ‘What a lovely sweater.’
‘What a lovely home,’ Tasha said. ‘Paul has told me all about you. For hours on end.’
‘You’re catching me heading out the door.’ Mary Pat glanced at Paul. ‘Practically being pushed. My son thinks I need a little vacation. He doesn’t give a lady much choice.’
‘He can be real pushy,’ Tasha said. ‘But in the sweetest way.’
‘Mom, Frank’ll drive you to the airport. Have a great time. Don’t go crazy at the baccarat tables, okay?’ Frank looked surprised at the announcement of his assignment but he picked up Mary Pat’s luggage and carried it out to her Mercedes’ trunk.
‘Paul, darling,’ Mary Pat said. ‘You look like you’re considering a coronary.’
‘I’ll see you on Tuesday, Mom. Unless we got developments here and you need to stay in Vegas.’
‘I’m not being gone from your daddy that long, Paul. Forget it.’
‘Or away from Paul, either, right?’ Tasha said.
Mary Pat snapped a quick smile at Tasha. ‘Nice to meet you, dear.’
‘It’s great to meet the woman who raised Paul. The source of his brains and good manners.’
Mary Pat’s smile brightened but it was aimed at her son. ‘I’ call you when I get to my hotel, Paul.’
Paul kissed his mother, shut the door, watched Frank pull out past the extra guards at the gate. ‘Thank Christ she’s gone.’
‘The color went out of her face because of the color of mine,’ Tasha said.
‘That’s a terrible thing to say,’ Paul said. ‘She treats all my girlfriends bad. She was very accepting of you. I have lots of black friends.’
‘Business associates, yeah,’ she said, ‘but I doubt you have many black friends. Or friends, period.’
‘What’s that mean?’ Paul sounded hurt.
‘Friends are a luxury for a guy like you.’ Tasha ran a finger along his jawline, made her voice husky.
‘But I have you.’ He pulled her close, gave her a quick kiss. She allowed it, kissed him back, teased his mouth for a moment with her tongue. She broke the kiss. ‘Ralph did that credit check you asked for on Bucks and Frank and Eve.’
‘Great.’
‘I need five thou to give Ralph, sweetie. For this and finding Eve’s credit card. I got to throw him a bone.’
