“Would you?” She gripped my arm. “Thank you. I hate to be so suspicious, but I can’t help it. Sometimes I work late at night and I’m so worried there will be another attack.”
“You poor thing,” I said, patting her hand. “You must be under a lot of strain.” What with the unbridled murder and mayhem and all, I added silently.
“Oh, don’t worry about me,” she said bravely. “I’ll be fine.”
“I hope so.” And I hoped she’d get a lovely cell with a nice view of her neighbor, Big Beulah. “I’m going to run to the ladies’ room. Then maybe I’ll grab another one of those TNTs. Have you tried one yet?”
“Just a taste. I figured I’d better stay sober.”
“Too bad, because they rock. I’ll be back in a few.” I waved and headed for the bathroom. Once inside, I sagged against the door and exhaled in relief.
I should’ve been exhausted, but my outrage energized me. The fact that she could keep up the pretense so easily made me realize we were dealing with a true sociopath. She was perfectly willing to implicate anyone—Cynthia, Naomi, Karalee, to name a few. I had to wonder if she’d brought my name up to the others as a possible suspect. It wouldn’t have surprised me.
I used the facilities, then took another deep breath and walked out. The bathrooms were down the hall from the workroom where Gabriel and Alice had agreed to meet. I checked my watch. Less than ten minutes to go. I had to assume the good guys were in their places.
The room they’d chosen was one of the individual workrooms BABA rented out to bookbinders and artists who needed space to work. Some rooms were used for individual studies and small group classes. I’d taught a few master classes with three or four students in these types of rooms and knew their design. They all had a small anteroom leading to the main workroom, with a closet off the anteroom.
They would never know I was in there. I’d played my role out front, kept an eye on Alice for as long as I could stand it. Now I belonged back here.
If Gabriel was already in there and saw me, that would be the end of it. But if I could sneak inside unnoticed, I would be able to hear everything and know that Alice was Layla’s killer. I would feel vindicated, and at the same time, no one would have to know I was there. Derek wouldn’t worry and all would end well.
Without further deliberation, I tiptoed farther down the hall to the workroom. The door opened without a sound and I crept inside. The room was empty.
My heart pounding, I carefully opened the closet door and slipped inside. The small space was dark but not completely black, thank goodness. My eyes slowly adjusted and I could see the shelves above my head. I crouched in the corner and waited.
Less than five minutes later, I heard the outer door open and shut quickly.
Five minutes after that, it opened and shut again.
“Hey, babe,” Gabriel said, his tone a casual drawl.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Alice said, her voice huskier than usual. So even her voice was fraudulent? Unbelievable.
“I’m digging the pixie look,” Gabriel said derisively. “What’s with the Alice in Wonderland charade?”
“It’s working for me,” she said. “You’re looking a little pale. Feeling okay?”
“I really appreciate your concern, considering it was your bullet that nailed me. Have a seat.”
It was a smart move to get her to sit down. That was the only way Gabriel could get off his feet.
“So, Mary Grace,” he said. “I was surprised to hear you’d moved into my world. You’re getting into books.”
“It’s where the money is.”
“So you’re finding it lucrative?”
“I’m doing okay,” Alice demurred.
“Come on, babe. I hear you’re making a killing.”
“Oh, that’s a terrible pun,” Alice said, giggling.
I shook my head in disbelief at the fact that she could admit to a pun about making a killing. It was practically a confession of murder as far as I was concerned. And I was still annoyed by the radical change in her voice from the way she’d talked to me. She really was diabolical.
Gabriel asked her how she’d stumbled onto the book-fraud gig. Alice told him she’d been cooling her heels after a fine art con in Belgium went south, so she’d skipped over to San Francisco and put out feelers here. She caught a whiff of a rare-book scam going down and followed her nose to BABA. After a few months of careful planning and several efforts to prove her street cred, she finally came to the attention of Layla Fontaine.
I wondered if committing murder was one way she’d proved her “street cred” to Layla. I made a mental note to ask Inspector Lee whether any recent unsolved murders might be connected to Layla’s ring of thieves.
Alice went on to boast about how eagerly Layla had glommed onto her.The hotshot executive director had taken “young Alice” under her wing, bringing her into BABA to learn all about the business so Alice could be Layla’s partner in both the legitimate and criminal sides of the biz.
“Sadly, familiarity breeds contempt,” Alice complained. “The more I got to know Layla, the more I realized I’d never be able to work with her long term. She was a pain in the butt.”
Look who’s talking.
“Not only was she a bad manager who desperately needed my expertise,” Alice said, “but she knew it. And yet, when I told her I wanted half the business, she wasn’t willing to pay the price.”
“So she had to go,” Gabriel finished.
“Yeah, she had to go. Now I’m in charge and things will be different around here.”
“But how’re you going to keep the scam going, now that you’ve got the police sniffing around?”
Alice laughed. “You let me worry about that, pretty boy.”
I could imagine Gabriel’s hackles rising at that comment. But his voice was mild as he said, “Rumor has it your associates are dropping like flies. What’s that all about?”
“Price of doing business in tough times.”
“And what’s your racket?” he asked. “You playing the little schoolgirl, Mary Grace?”
“Hey, I’ve got a good gig going on here,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “They think I’m as sweet as sugar pie. I’m all artsy-craftsy, making books and crap, and I’ve got a wonderful fiancé, too. Check this out.”
“Nice bling,” Gabriel said, and I could picture Alice flashing her beautiful diamond ring in his face.
“I like it,” she said, and laughed.
“I assume the fiancé is as fake as that ring is real.”
She simply laughed again.
So there was no Stuart, and I had no doubt she’d stolen that beautiful ring from somewhere. What other lies had she told us? She probably had a perfectly fine digestive system. All those health issues were more figments of her fertile imagination. She’d sucked us in royally. For some reason, her lack of stomach problems burned me more than some of the other lies she’d told.
I wondered why the police weren’t coming in to arrest her by now. Hadn’t she made it clear that she was the one who’d killed Layla and Mr. Soo. Did they need even more evidence?
“Let’s cut to the chase, Mary Grace,” Gabriel said. “I want in. I know books a hell of a lot better than you do. I’ll play the middleman or the seller.”
“It’s an interesting offer,” she said slowly.
“It’s not an offer—it’s a done deal. And we split things fifty-fifty.”
“What?” That was followed by a few expletives and I could hear her pushing chairs around. Guess she wasn’t happy with his offer.
“Is there a problem?” Gabriel said.
“Yeah, there’s a problem, you slug. I’ll give you twenty percent and you’ll like it. You’re in no position to make demands, Gabriel. I was there at the hospital after you were shot. I know you’re still weak.”
“Not that weak, pixie. I can pin your ass to those murders, not to mention your little attempt to put a hole in my head. I don’t mind telling you, that just pissed me off. Fifty-fifty’s the bottom line or I call the cops.”