“You think you can get up to him?”
“Of course. My room’s up there. I’ll flick the lights twice when I find Hudson. Dora feels she’s sold Loni on the `attack’ and the `doctor’.
“You had no problem with the changing?”
“It was a hard sell. What tipped it is Loni really doesn’t like Dora.”
“What will you...oh, thank you. Just a sip or two and I should be able to make it.”
“Where’s your car?” demanded Dora.
“Down the street.” Carver gestured in the opposite direction from the Buick, turning away from Dora as he appeared to drink. With this group, he was taking no chances. “That’s better. Just a sip was all I needed.” He handed the glass back to Dora. He turned his coat collar up and hobbled down the walk.
“Let’s get inside, Loni.” In the dim lighting outside the front door, she looked at the girl curiously. “Why did you decide to wash your hair all of a sudden?”
“Back east I used to wash it every day, sometimes twice a day. I got my blouse wet though. I’m going up to change.”
“Don’t be long. Dinner’s almost ready.”
Cilla stopped at the top of the stairs to see if Dora was following, but she was alone on the second floor, and there were pot and pan sounds from the kitchen. It wasn’t a large house, three bedrooms across the front, the doors open on two; both were empty. She went to the third. It was locked; one of those doors where the lock is part of the knob. Supposedly you could open them with a credit card, if she had a credit card, and if the door didn’t open inward, so when closed it fit snugly into the jamb or molding or whatever you called the piece of wood it was up against. She knocked quietly.
“Hudson?” she whispered. No response. “Hudson?” a little louder. Still nothing. It wasn’t a particularly solid door. With something to brace against she might be able to kick it in. And blow any chance of learning something from Dora. She went back to the other bedrooms. Remembering the reason she’d given Dora, she found a different blouse. Dora was shorter and wider than Loni and herself, so she had little difficulty picking the right clothes and room. She found a scarf, which she wrapped around her head in place of the towel.
She heard the front door open and close and voices. She went toward the stairs. The sounds were low, and she couldn’t make out what was being said. It was no better from a few steps down. In fact the voices were fainter; they’d gone to the kitchen. Feeling less than confident, she quietly though positively walked down the stairs and toward the kitchen, just as though she lived there. There was no door to the kitchen - she and Loni had had to change clothes in the minuscule half bath that adjoined it - so she could hear without getting close.
“Does it make sense to you?”
“None of it makes sense! What the hell was I supposed to do? Shoot him?”
“Eight years I’ve lived in Olympia, and nobody’s ever come to my door with a heart attack. Just when we got these two...you shouldn’t have let him go.”
“And if he died? What do I do, chop him up and flush him down the john?”
The man spoke more quietly. “Maybe. We’ve got one to get rid of anyway.” Cilla shivered at the casual lack of emotion in the man’s voice.
“I don’t like it, Frank. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“You going to need Harv?”
“No.”
There was silence for a minute. Cilla hurried for the stairs, but there were no sounds of movement so tiptoed back.
“...take me ten minutes.”
“And then what? It scares me, Frank.”
“Come up with another idea.”
“We could go to my sister Phoebe’s.”
“In Arizona?”
“Sure. Phoebe’s in Mexico. We’ll tell the princess he just wandered away.”
“Why not do that here?”
“Because I live here in Olympia,” said Dora
“You going to sell the girl on another trip?”
“We...may have been discovered and now have to move. The man, Rogers, needs dry air. Lots of people do. You have this nursing home in Arizona. Sure, I can sell it. She’s a dip.”
“Alright. It’s got a big desert. Have Harv bring the ambulance. Ready in a half hour.”
“Yeah.”
A chair scraped. Cilla made for the stairs. Arizona! Should she forget trying to get information? Just get Hudson and herself out. She felt pretty sure she could handle Frank and Dora, if she could take them by surprise. Harv was an unknown. Was he right outside? She’d just get one chance with people who were planning to leave Hudson in the desert. Why not her, too? What was Loni being kept alive for? Maybe she wasn’t, but then...
What would Hudson do? He’d get her out; she had no question about that. Suppose he needed a real doctor? It couldn’t be good for anyone to stay drugged like this. But if they were planning on him making it alive to Arizona...She reached a decision. She went into her room, turned the lights on. Then off. Then on. Then off. And a third time on and off. Dora’s room was next to hers. Her eyes went around it. The bureau first. There were only a few articles of clothing in the drawers. Most of Dora’s stuff must be across the street. The closet held just one suit and a coat. In its pocket was a letter addressed to Dora. The return address was Sedona, Arizona.
“What are you doing in my closet?” Right behind Dora was Frank, and the look in his eyes was not friendly.
Chapter 25
“Why are we waiting here?” Though the car was warm, when Loni looked at the blue house down the street she shivered. “She said to go to the Westwater and call Mr. Krestinski.”
They had watched Frank’s car drive up, and him enter the house. Ten minutes had gone by. Still Carver had waited.
“I need to be sure the substitution is accepted.”
“How will you know by sitting here? They could be doing anything inside!”
The lights in one of the upstairs rooms went on and off once. Twice. He put the car in gear. Three times. He stopped. The agreed signal was twice. There was no provision for a third.
“Was that your room?”
“Yes.”
He studied the house motionless. Then drove slowly down the street past it. A light came on in the room next to where the signal had been given. Carver put his foot on the accelerator. The Buick leapt forward.
“Are we going to the hotel?”
“Payphone. Do your seatbelt.”
Carver doubled the speed limit. Loni was pushed back against the seat. They found a telephone, and Wally was quickly out of the car.
“My name is Wallace Carver. Put on John Krestinski. It’s an emergency.”
“Sorry. He’s gone for the day.”
Carver compressed his lips. Of course. It’s after midnight there. “Let me have his home number.”
“I’m sorry, we can’t give that to you.”
“Then call him and have him call me back. This is a matter of life and death.”
“What was your name again?”
Carver’s voice dropped to a growl as he repeated it.
“I’ll see if I can reach him. What’s your number?”
Wally read it off the machine. “What is your name?”
“Andrea.”
“Andrea, I expect to hear from him within three minutes.” He hung up and waited. In less than the time allowed, Krestinski rang back.
“You’re in Washington, Wally?”
“We’re all in Washington, including Alexandra Sturgis.”
“Al...you mean Loni? She’s there with you?”
“Not five feet away. I thought you Fibbis were supposed to be keeping an eye on her.”