Last Night, page 28
That was true. Conor knew from watching Kate do business at the gallery. Provenance was so important to legitimate collectors. If stolen paintings were being shopped around, Kate would have heard about it through the gallery grapevine.
“So Maddie’s paintings would be partial payment for killing her?” Conor asked.
“Yes.”
“How much were they paying?” Conor asked. “The total?”
“A hundred thousand,” Johnny said. “Isabel said it would be worth it, considering that they had a fortune to gain.”
“They got Ronnie to pull the trigger,” Conor said. “A kid.”
“Yeah,” Johnny said, looking down.
“Tell me what happened after tea,” Conor said. “In the suite.”
“What do you think?” Johnny asked.
“Tell me,” Conor said, his voice getting harsher.
“Isabel knew everything. Donna had given her a photo of Last Night—Maddie’s painting. And she knew the plan Maddie and I had—to turn the whole thing into a performance, to create a living tableau that would be a media sensation, to make it all as big as the North Star.”
“And then?”
“As far as Isabel was concerned, the money was going to pour in after Maddie died. Donna had the Genevieve agreement and receipt—that part was easy. All Isabel had to do was play on Genevieve’s obsession with Maddie . . . and gently shift it to herself. Genevieve saw it as a win-win.”
“‘Gently,’” Conor said with disgust.
“Donna had the combination to Maddie’s storage unit. She planted the receipt in Maddie’s notebook. She inventoried the art, estimated its value. Her law firm wouldn’t have blinked if she had emptied the whole thing, as long as she cut them in,” Johnny said. “But that was never going to happen.”
“Because Isabel didn’t want to share. She killed her sister,” Conor said. “Was Genevieve going to be next?”
Johnny just stared straight ahead, eyes wide as if he were sleepwalking.
“So, back to the night of the blizzard. Maddie thought she was meeting you on the beach path?” Conor asked. “To shoot the video that would go with her painting? Your big creative collaboration.”
Johnny didn’t reply. It seemed he was beyond answering.
“Okay, then, Johnny. I need to know where Isabel is. You obviously came to pick her up,” Conor said. His pulse was pounding. He was sitting inches away from a man who had hurt so many people, and no one had known. Now his actions had turned on him. Conor saw the sorrow in his face—but it was too late to take anything back.
“I swear, I didn’t know she was going to do it,” he said. “I thought—”
“Isabel didn’t just have Maddie killed,” Conor said, interrupting him harshly. He didn’t feel one bit bad for him. In spite of everything he knew about Isabel and what she had done, he was right here waiting for her. “Your baby died, too. Tell me what I need to know so I can get her. You want to make things right? That’s a start.”
“Yes,” Johnny said, turning his head slowly, looking into Conor’s eyes. “I do want that.”
51
CeCe ran through the big yellow hotel with Isabel behind her. There were corridors and stairways, more than she could count. They went down to the spa, where the pool was, where CeCe loved to swim with Mommy. Out the door, across a wide deck that curved out toward the beach. Then into a different door, through the ballroom, through the gallery with the blue walls, past the paintings by the artist who wrote the Madeline books. CeCe kept running, looking over her shoulder for Isabel.
Mommy had taken CeCe all through the hotel, telling her that this was their home now, with wonderful rooms and restaurants and nooks and crannies to explore. Nicholas, who wore a blue blazer and was always nice, had given them a tour one time, showing them secret places. CeCe remembered everything. There was the tower, up a spiral staircase into the very peak of the Ocean House, with round windows like portholes on every side looking out forever.
There were other suites like Sea Garden, with magical names. Each one was different, and Mommy said someday they would make friends with the people who stayed in them so they could see what the rooms looked like. CeCe darted up and down the halls, around corners, staying ahead of Isabel. She figured that if anyone knew the hotel as well as she did, it would be Isabel, because she worked there.
She tried to remember what Isabel had said, all the times CeCe and her mommy had talked. Isabel loved hotels; she had gone to school to study the best ways to make guests happy. She had sounded so friendly, as if all she wanted was to take care of the people who stayed here. CeCe remembered that she said she wanted to study wine, go to France and Italy and California.
And she had taken Mommy and CeCe down to the hotel’s wine cellar. It was downstairs, near the room with the pool table, next to the small kitchen where the hotel’s chef taught cooking classes, in a glass enclosure with shelves up to the ceiling, full of dark wine bottles. The lights were golden but shaded, and the room was both dim and cozy. It reminded CeCe of visiting châteaus and wine caves in Bordeaux, where her grandmother lived.
That is where she would go to hide. Isabel would never guess, because she would think CeCe was too smart to go back to the part of the hotel Isabel had said she loved most. Besides, CeCe had seen something there, something that would help her, give her power. She ran into the underground garage, darted through a door that led to the soft-pink hallway. It was lined with watercolors by Sem, the artist Papa loved, and for just a moment, CeCe’s heart hurt, because she wondered where he was.
There was nobody in the corridor, the little kitchen, or the wine cellar. CeCe looked behind her. She had run very fast, and there was no sign of Isabel. So she tugged open the heavy door and slipped into the glass enclosure with the massive wooden shelves full of wine bottles. There was a ledge full of glasses. The crystal sparkled in the light. They were fragile looking, waiting to be filled with wine, and CeCe passed very carefully, not wanting to bump into them and break them.
At the very end of the room, there was a narrow space between the tall shelf and the wall. No grown-up could get in there; it was the perfect size for a little girl.
CeCe stood sideways and wriggled in, then wedged herself behind the rack of wine bottles. Ever since being kidnapped, she didn’t like feeling trapped in closed places, but it felt safe and quiet here. She liked that it reminded her of France, a place where her family had been happy.
No one would find her here. She could look out through the rows of wine bottles stacked on top of each other, but if someone came in, they wouldn’t see her. She just had to stay here long enough for Aunt Hadley or Conor Reid to come looking for her. She was a little out of breath from running, but she was calming down now. Hand in her pocket, holding Star. Everything was going to be okay.
But then she heard her name.
“CeCe,” Isabel called very softly. “Dear little CeCe, I don’t know what I said to upset you. Where are you? Everything is okay. Let me take you upstairs to your aunt. You know how worried she must be?”
CeCe stayed perfectly still. She peered out between the wine bottles and saw Isabel moving slowly and surely, like a snake in the garden. Isabel was looking from side to side, bending down to see under the big table, poking her head into the kitchen, opening cupboards. She was holding the hand CeCe had bitten, as if it hurt.
“Come on now,” Isabel said. “Isn’t it so silly to be hiding? I’m your friend; you know that. Your mommy would want you to come out. I’m not mad that you bit me; I’m not at all mad. I know you didn’t mean it.”
The little kitchen was only a few feet away from the wine cellar. Isabel turned around, began walking very slowly past the shelves full of wine. She must have thought there was nowhere to hide in there because the room was glass; anyone could look inside. But then she stopped. Her eyes seemed to bore straight through the tiny space between the bottles.
CeCe watched an actual smile come to Isabel’s face.
“Hello there, CeCe,” Isabel said.
52
It turned out that Johnny had lied once more. He’d told Conor he wanted to make it right and help Conor catch Isabel, but he’d just filled the air with more self-pity, blaming Isabel and the Garsons and everyone but himself. He had come here to pick her up, but Isabel must have seen Conor and changed her mind. When she didn’t come out, Johnny said she’d probably called one of her friends or cousins. Gotten away.
When Joe pulled up to the Ocean House, Conor was happy to watch him handcuff Johnny and turn him over to uniformed Rhode Island State Troopers. They stood on the Ocean House’s verandah, watching one of the troopers open the back door of a police car and put Johnny inside.
“Conspiracy to commit murder,” Joe said.
“He claims it wasn’t him,” Conor said.
“He can claim it all he wants,” Joe said. “But he sure knows an awful lot about what everyone else did. Especially Isabel Almeida. And he has expensive taste in flowers.”
“Flowers?” Conor asked.
“Yeah. We checked with the florist. Johnny’s the one who sent all the roses—mostly to Maddie, but plenty to Isabel, too. And charged them on Maddie’s account.”
Conor nodded. He figured that no matter what, Joe could use Johnny to leverage Isabel, once they caught her. She hadn’t been at the desk when he went looking for her—Agnes had said she was on break, but she never came back.
“Court orders take forever,” Joe said. “If we’d gotten into Maddie’s safe-deposit box right away, we would have had Maddie’s will and found Isabel’s name. At least known to question her.”
“Well, we know now,” Conor said, glad Hadley had gone to the bank.
It was clear that Isabel had either left the hotel or was hiding inside. Joe had his officers set up a perimeter. One group was dispatched to search the building, another to canvass the grounds. The lights and activity were reminiscent of the hours after Maddie had been murdered and CeCe had gone missing.
“She’s going to get away,” Conor said. “Like the rest of them.”
“No,” Joe said. “Not everyone. Ronnie and Zane are in custody; now Johnny is, and Pat O’Rourke’s team caught Grub and Elise at Logan Airport with false passports.”
“Where were they heading?” Conor asked. While talking to Joe, he kept his eyes on the turnaround, hoping Kate would drive in at any minute.
“Mexico City,” Joe said. “Pat said their passports were first rate. The airline clerk didn’t make them as fake. The only reason they got caught is that some passenger recognized Grub from the news.”
“It isn’t easy getting false papers,” Conor said. “They must have had a connection.”
Tom pulled up in his truck, parked it on the side of the circle.
“Hey,” he called as he walked up the wide steps. “Did you hear they picked up Grub?”
“We were just talking about it,” Conor said. “Where do you think a wayward lobsterman would get first-rate forged passports?”
“Cartel,” Tom said. “Grub did a good job of seeming small time, but too many signs are pointing to him getting into trafficking.”
“The FBI thinks so,” Joe said.
“We’ll work with them,” Tom said. “We’ll board Grub’s boats; the other agency will look closer at the Binnacle. And Zane, too.”
“Trafficking’s the growing industry around here,” Joe said.
“Grub had CeCe,” Conor said. “If he was in with the cartels, who knows what he told them about her. What he promised them. What about Coach, whatever his real name is? Where is he?” Conor asked.
“Still missing,” Joe said.
“Like Isabel,” Conor said.
“For now,” Joe said.
There was a flurry at the door, and Conor turned to see Hadley running toward them.
“Have you seen CeCe?” she asked, sounding frantic.
“No,” Conor said. “What’s going on?”
“I fell asleep, and when I woke up, she wasn’t in the suite,” Hadley said. “I’ve asked everyone at reception, in the restaurant—no one has seen her.”
“Isabel,” Conor said, feeling a kick in his gut.
“She’s not at the desk,” Hadley said. “Agnes just told me the police are looking for her. But she’s a friend, isn’t she? I told you—she witnessed Maddie’s signature. Maddie wouldn’t have had her do that if she hadn’t trusted her, right?”
“She’s not a friend,” Conor said.
No one asked any more questions; they simply joined the search. It wasn’t just Isabel now—it was CeCe. Joe radioed his team to tell them that CeCe was missing, and that Isabel very likely had her.
Conor and Tom worked together. They started on the main floor, then checked the stairwells. The stairs were covered in blue carpet, so their footsteps were muffled. But then, Isabel’s would be, too, if they were on her trail. Doors led from the stairway to various levels. They walked down the beach-level corridor, wound around and up to the movie theater, where a few guests were watching It’s a Wonderful Life.
They descended another stairway to the lowest level, and they walked into the garage. Various hotel vehicles were parked here, as well as cars belonging to the suite owners. Conor knew that Maddie’s Volvo wagon was among them.
On the far side of the garage, they walked through a door that led to a salmon-pink hallway marked with a sign that said CENTER FOR WINE & CULINARY ARTS. Conor had been down here with Kate the first day they’d arrived, for a cooking demonstration. The chef had shown a small group how to properly prepare filet of sole.
Then the sommelier had served glasses of French white wine—Conor had had no clue what it was, but Kate had been impressed. They’d learned that the Ocean House had an eight-thousand-bottle collection, stored in their library wine cellar adjacent to the cooking-class station. Kate had pointed through the wine cellar’s glass door and said, “I wonder how many of those eight thousand bottles cost a thousand dollars or more.”
“Are you serious?” Conor had asked.
“Sure,” she’d said. “Some of my art clients collect wine, too.”
“A thousand dollars for some wine that will be gone an hour after it’s opened?”
“Should we have one for dinner?” Kate had asked.
“Why not two?” Conor had asked back, and they’d laughed.
Now, entering the space with Tom, Conor wondered how likely it was that they would find CeCe and Isabel here.
They stopped and listened. The Center for Wine & Culinary Arts was apparently empty, but Conor heard a small scuffling sound, then some mewing, almost like a kitten. That’s when he knew: they were here.
He nodded to Tom, who had his hand on his holstered sidearm. Conor went first, walking slowly down the wide corridor toward the intimate kitchen and the doorway to the wine cellar. The mewing sound stopped. Had he imagined it? He paused to listen again, and everything exploded.
He heard a rumble first, then the sound of shattering glass. It seemed to go on forever, punctuated by a woman screaming: “Look what you’ve done, look what you’ve done!”
Conor and Tom tore around the corner, into the wine cellar, and saw Isabel lying in a pile of broken glass, bleeding from cuts on her arms and face. CeCe stood with her back to a wall of wine bottles.
“I didn’t break any wine,” she said, looking up at Conor. “I just tipped over the glasses, that’s all.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Conor said, scooping her up. He held her tight. His heart was racing. He knew how close they had come to losing her.
“She’s bad,” CeCe said, pointing at Isabel.
“What a little liar you are,” Isabel said. “All I was doing was trying to find you. Everyone was worried. I was trying to help you.” She stood up, bleeding from her cuts, then stalked toward the door.
“Tom?” Conor said, gesturing at her. His brother nodded and held Isabel’s wrist to stop her from leaving. She screamed and began to hit him, but he reached for his handcuffs and snapped them on.
“She was going to kidnap me, like Ronnie did,” CeCe said.
“But you stopped her,” Conor said. “You are brave, CeCe.”
“Take her to Hadley,” Tom said. He nodded at Isabel. “I got this one.”
“I’ll send Joe down.”
“Yep,” Tom said, not taking his eyes off Isabel Almeida. She kept struggling, even though she was cuffed, saying that CeCe was a liar, that the little girl was just trying to get attention, that she would report Conor and Tom for abuse, for brutality. She’d get a lawyer from her sister’s firm to sue them.
“Am I in trouble?” CeCe asked, frowning, her arm slung around Conor’s neck.
“Not one bit,” Conor said. “You’re a hero. And you’re going to get a medal.”
“I want Aunt Hadley,” CeCe said as Conor carried her away from the broken glass, away from Isabel.
“We’re going to go find her right now,” Conor said.
He carried her up a flight of stairs and down a long hallway to the beautiful old elevator, where she loved to push the buttons. And when they got there, they met Kate, just arriving back from Maine.
While holding CeCe as tightly as he could with one arm, Conor pulled Kate to him with the other.
“We got them,” he whispered into her ear.
“I knew you would,” Kate whispered into his.
Then CeCe pushed the arrow pointing up, and together the three of them rode the elevator to Hadley in Sea Garden.
53
And CeCe was a hero.
Hadley knew that more than anyone.
When everything had calmed down, Conor explained the whole thing to her and Kate. Joe and his team took Isabel Almeida away. Conor called his counterpart in the Maine State Police, and they picked up Genevieve Dickinson. When they got to her apartment, the painting based on Maddie’s Last Night was gone, but the photo Kate had snapped of it was evidence that it had existed. Hadley realized the risk Kate had taken, going to Genevieve’s. She watched Conor put his arms around Kate.
