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“Look, bitch, I don’t give a fuck about your fucking instructions or who the fucking calls are supposed to be routed through. I want you to ring her suite now. Now, got that? And if you don’t do it, I’m gonna come over there and personally take your fucking head off.”
She hung up on him.
Irish paced his office, puffing smoke and chugging like a steam locomotive. Avery must be beside herself. She would think they’d deserted her.
Van, that irresponsible bastard, hadn’t shown up at the hotel where he was supposed to be, where she would be watching for him, relying on him. His calls weren’t being put through to her, so she had no way of knowing that he’d frantically been trying to contact her.
He stormed back into the newsroom as he pulled on his tweed blazer. “I’m going out.”
“Out?”
“What, are you deaf? Out. If anybody calls or comes looking for me, tell ’em to stay put or leave a message. I’ll be back when I can.”
“Where are you…?” The subordinate was left talking to wisps of cigarette smoke.
* * *
“You’re sure he’s not there?” Avery was struck with disbelief. “I phoned earlier and—”
“All I know is somebody said he went out, and I can’t find him, so I guess he’s out.”
“Out where?”
“Nobody seems to know.”
“Irish wouldn’t go out the day of an election.”
“Look, lady, it’s a madhouse around here, especially since Irish decided to split, so do you want to leave a message, or what?”
“No,” she said distantly. “No message.”
Feeling that she’d been cut adrift, she hung up and wandered back into the main room. Her eyes automatically sought out Tate first. He was talking with Nelson. Zee was ostensibly listening to their conversation, but her eyes were fixed on Tate with that faraway absorption that often characterized her.
Jack and Eddy were downstairs seeing to the arrangements in the ballroom while carefully monitoring returns as they were reported. It was still several hours before the polls closed, but early indications were that Tate was staying abreast of Dekker. Even if he didn’t pull out in front, he’d given the pompous incumbent a good scare.
Dorothy Rae had pleaded a headache earlier and gone to her room to lie down for a while. Fancy was sitting on the floor with Mandy. They were coloring together.
On a sudden inspiration, Avery called her name. “Could you come here a minute, please?”
“What for?”
“I… I need you to run an errand for me.”
“Grandma told me to entertain the kid.”
“I’ll do that. Anyway, it’s getting close to her nap time. Please. It’s important.”
Grudgingly, Fancy came to her feet and followed Avery back into the bedroom. Since the incident a few nights earlier, she had been much more pleasant to be around. Every now and then, traces of her recalcitrance asserted itself, but on the whole, she was more congenial.
As soon as she closed the door behind them, Avery pressed a small key into Fancy’s hand. “I need you to do something for me.”
“With this key?”
“It’s a post office box key. I need you to go there and see if there’s something inside. If there is, bring it back with you and hand deliver it to me—no one else.”
“What the hell’s going on?”
“I can’t explain right now.”
