AllFreeNovel
Share Us
There had been something in Veronica’s voice when she told her about the lawsuit. A suspicion. She had urged Theo not to worry, assured her that they would persuade Gus to move on, to leave her alone, but she would have to return to Europe.
Theo had kept calm. Feigned fury at Gus and puzzlement that he had guessed that Afterlife was hers. Of course, she had to leave the U.S., she told Veronica. The sooner the better. Damn Gus—just when her writing was really making its mark…why couldn’t he just let her go? She worked herself up and then excused herself to use the ladies’ room to pull herself together. In the stall she’d rung Mac with her stolen phone. She’d returned, composed, and apologetic, her eyes tear-washed. Perhaps she’d fooled Veronica…she wasn’t sure.
Veronica had tried to comfort her. Big brothers were difficult, she’d said. Perhaps Theo had unintentionally included some turn of phrase in Afterlife that he’d recognized. But she was not to worry. They would take care of this.
And so, in the fifteen minutes she was given to pack, Theo had set off the alarm, knowing it would disable the elevators going up, that the tracking device on her phone would show her making her way down the fire escape to where Veronica was waiting for her. Hopefully, they were still looking for her in the foyer or at the marshalling points outside the hotel.
Theo wasn’t entirely sure what to do now. At some point, the intentionally tripped alarm would be discovered and the evacuation of the hotel called off. She would have to find a place to hide until she could figure out a way to get past Veronica and whoever she’d called to bring her fugitive writer into line.
Patsy landed the helicopter on a private pad atop a high-rise apartment block. She pointed out the metropolis that was the Mayhew complex.
Gus cursed. “That’s huge. How are we ever going to find her?”
“I don’t know that you’ll even get in,” Patsy said, studying the hotel building through binoculars. “It looks like the entire Dallas PD is surrounding the building. Were you expecting some kind of siege?”
Gus glanced at Mac. God, how were they going to undo this now?
Mac exhaled. “We’d better go talk to them.”
“I can wait for three hours.” Patsy checked her watch. “If you’re not back by then, you’re on your own.”
“Thanks, Pat,” Mac said, embracing her. “If we’re not back, don’t wait. We’ll be all right.”
She placed her acrylic-nailed hands on either side of his face and pecked him on the lips. “You be careful—this place is full of cowboys.”
They made their way down to the ground floor and hailed a cab to take them to the police cordon on the street outside the Mayhew.
“How are we going to play this?” Gus murmured as they tried to push their way toward the tape.
“We try and speak to whoever’s in charge.”
“Won’t he or she be a bit busy dealing with the murderer we told them is loose in the hotel?”
“You, pal, are the murderer’s beloved brother, and I’m the last person she called.” Mac waved to grab the attention of the policeman guarding the barrier. He introduced himself and Gus to the officer. “We thought we might be able to help.”
The officer motioned them to step under the tape and took them to the detective in charge.
Detective Maguire was irritated. He had arrived on some courtesy mission to check the hotel for a fugitive supposedly staying at the hotel under the name of Altamirano, only to find that the place was being evacuated because someone had burned toast in one of the suites. It was bedlam. Some people had already been let out of the building when they arrived. The remainder were being held in the foyer and the attached shopping district. Both areas were perfectly comfortable but not when you were prevented from leaving. Altamirano was not in her room and scorching on the ceiling indicated she may well have tripped the alarm herself…which meant the whole fucking hotel had to be thoroughly searched before they could allow people back up to their rooms, even if it was more than likely that Altamirano, or Benton as she apparently was, had simply walked out with everybody else and disappeared into the city. The photo provided by the Kansas PD was four years old, and there were literally thousands of people, most of them idiots, demanding to speak to whomever was in charge.
And now Benton’s family had arrived with some insane story about a frame-up and a rogue agency worthy of Grisham. He was in the middle of telling them what they could do with their theory when reports of gunfire on the second floor came through.
Panic spread like contagion, and the people still within the foyer rushed the doors. There was nothing to do but let them out. And then a phone call made from within the hotel on one of the room phones. A woman. She said her name was Theodosia Benton.
Maguire asked her to hand herself in.
She begged for help. Someone was trying to kill her. And then she dropped the phone.
Maguire waved for someone to get the family out of his way as he barked orders at his men in the hotel.
Mac and Gus retreated without being asked, slipping into the crowd charging out of the hotel and using the confusion to slip in. They moved quickly to the farthest set of fire stairs, which had been wedged open to accommodate all the people who had descended through it. When the policeman who had been stationed outside it to ensure that no one tried to go up, moved away to break up a fight between two hysterical guests, they took the opportunity to bolt up the steps.
“The shots were on the second floor,” Mac said.
“We’ll start there,” Gus agreed. “But, mate, this place is huge.”
“Where the hell are the police?” Mac said quietly as they stepped out into the hall of the second floor. It seemed deserted. “Shouldn’t they be up here trying to figure out who’s shooting?”
“I’m more worried about who they’re shooting at.” Gus tried each door, looking into the rooms for his sister. “Theo…”
