Chapter 29: Unexpected visitors

IT’S WAY PAST TIME to get back to my studies. I’ve moved. I have a new office. I have an assistant. I have no clients. Lars reminded me on Christmas that my thesis is due in just three weeks. It’s almost done but I really have to focus these next two weeks. I’ll have Cinnamon proofread this again when I’ve finished this time.

On retainer

About 10:30, Cinnamon knocked on my door and asked if I could take a visitor. I didn’t even think about not doing it. I should probably consider having appointments instead of interruptions.

Angel walked in and closed the door behind her.

I’d never seen her like this. Her makeup is always perfect. She dresses perfectly. She’s just so perfect all the time. But the Angel standing in my office didn’t have any makeup on and it looked like she’d been crying.

“I look a wreck,” she declared. “Deb, I am a wreck. I don’t know what to do!” She burst into tears and I dredged up some motherly instinct from somewhere and hugged her. We sat on the sofa together and I dried her eyes with a tissue. God knows I’ve been doing enough crying the past month. I ought to know what to do about it. That’s a myth, by the way. Doesn’t help at all.

“What is it, Angel?” I asked. “I owe you my life. Please don’t ever regret saving it.” I just knew she was off on having shot Ray. She’s never talked about it but I know it’s on her mind. It’s been on mine. We both know it’s just something between the two of us. Neither of us will ever talk about it to anyone else.

“It’s not that,” she replied. “I don’t regret for a minute what I did out there. I’d do it again right now. Faster this time.”

“What is it then?”

“Simon.” That said it all. You know, I have to admit, when I first heard about Angel and Simon I kind of kissed it off. Rich man. Golddigger. Get what you can and get out while you can. But when I saw them together in Croatia ... I mean, the way he looked at her like she was the beginning and the end of the universe. And she was the happiest I’d ever seen a person when she was around him. Pull out all the clichés you want about old men and young women; these two were crazy in love.

“Tell me about it,” I said.

“I got a message,” she answered. “He’s hiding and isn’t coming out until he’s sure Brenda is permanently out of the picture.” Maybe I should have told Angel Brenda was on the loose again but it didn’t cross my mind. I’m not sure if I could have told her even if it had. “He says until then, we’ll have to live apart. It was such a beautiful love letter. But he didn’t tell me where he’s hiding so I can’t run off and join him.”

“You want me to track him down?” I asked apprehensively. So much for getting my thesis finished. But if Angel asked me to track down Simon, you know I’d do it.

“No. He’s right. I’m thinking I should find a nice secluded retreat somewhere and disappear for a while. I wish I knew how to disguise myself and get a false identity like you do. That woman! She’s a spiteful horrid bitch. She’ll hurt me just to hurt Simon.”

“I could be your mutual point of contact,” I said, volunteering before I thought it through.

“I might need that if I decide to go. But that’s not why I came.”

“What’s up?”

“Simon says give you a retainer.” She was fishing in a purse the size of Lake Washington and I was sure she’d come out with a floppy salmon. Instead, she emerged with a little business card box. She handed it to me and I opened it. It was full of credit cards—the kind of ATM card she sells through her travel agency. There must have been, OMG! a hundred of them.

“There’s a limit on how much I can put on an individual card and not draw attention,” she explained. “$9,999.99. If I put $10,000 on one, someone comes to investigate. I could be liable for all kinds of civil and criminal penalties if I don’t have every bit of paperwork in order. Your friend Jordan would arrest me. That’s how we’ve always worked it. The guys come in and buy $10,000 minus a penny at a time and give me a $2,000 fee. It’s pretty much like having a pocket full of $10,000 bills.” She pulled a dollar bill out of her purse. “There’s $999,999 on those cards. This makes it an even million.” She handed me the dollar bill. “Simon says he wants a good detective on retainer, just in case he needs to be found again. He’ll leave you a clue.”

“Angel,” I exclaimed. “I can’t take this.”

“Sure you can,” she said. “Simon says. He’s a good man, Deb. He knows a good detective has to be able to put her hands on cash at any time. This is invisible. Just put them in your private safe and pull them out when you need one. It never hits the books if you are careful. If you are extravagant and live beyond your means, the treasury will come down on you for tax evasion. If you keep it quiet, you’ll always have a cushion. You’re smart. You’ll do what Simon says.”

Angel stood up to leave. I didn’t know what to say. Is that where the money Dag left me came from? The instructions were almost the same.

I’m twenty-seven years old. What have I gotten myself into?

“Cinnamon?” I called.

She came bouncing into my office and perched her cute little derriere on the edge of my new desk. Damn. I could hear Dag chuckling from far across the great divide.

“What’s up, Sugar?” she said. I finally got it. As far as she was concerned, we were Cinnamon and Sugar.

“Here’s a dollar,” I said. “Fill out a retainer contract and receipt. Make it out in the name of Simon Barnett.”

“You want me to take this to the bank?”

“No. Just staple it to the contract and file it.”

“This is a strange business.”

Secret keeper

I’d studied most of the night, revising the conclusion of my thesis. It was much stronger now, but my eyes were scarcely open. And I had to make that call I’d been avoiding. Maizie tugged me along on the leash to Tovoni’s and I felt much better after Jackie served me and gave Maizie her cookie. I just sat there inhaling the aroma. It woke my senses and I felt better even before I’d had a sip. When Maizie finished her cookie and got a drink of water, we waved goodbye and headed down to the office.

I pulled the card I’d received at the memorial service from my pocket and stared at it for five minutes before I finally made the call. I hoped she was awake. According to the information I had, she was shooting on location in Nassau. I was shocked when she answered her own phone.

“Miss Marx, this is Deb Riley in Seattle.”

“Please, Deb. I thought we established that I’m just Cali.”

“Thank you, Cali. I didn’t want to disturb you earlier but you asked me to call about the plans for Dag’s ashes.” I heard a deep sigh. She didn’t say anything, so I went on. “He asked to have them scattered on a beach up north of here. I feel like I’ve been negligent in fulfilling his wishes because of ... well, I had to finish a job he asked me to do and it’s eaten all my time this month. I think I should do it on New Year’s Eve. I wanted to let you know.”

“Thank you, Deb. It’s the beach that’s in that painting, isn’t it? Shooting has shut down for the holiday and I’ve been doing nothing but sitting in my room reading. Can I call you back at this number when I know my travel plans?”