“Just some papers.” He tightened his grip on the handle. He hadn’t looked inside yet. What if his father had put some cocaine in there, for old time’s sake? Surely his mother would have checked, wouldn’t she?
His mother.
She’d had the suitcase first. What if the guy who’d come after him went after her?
“Need to call a friend,” he said.
“We need to take a statement,” said the cop who’d been knocked down. His truculent expression clearly showed that he held Joe at least partially responsible.
He had already speed-dialed Vivian.
“Torres,” she answered.
“Tesla,” he said.
The bloody-nosed cop glared at Joe, but the female cop put her hand on the guy’s arm and said something in a low voice, hopefully calming him down.
Joe kept talking. “I need you to find my mother, make sure she’s safe, and stick with her until you hear from me.”
“Yes, sir,” she said. “What’s the nature of the threat?”
“Someone tried to take a suitcase she just gave me, and he was willing to use force.” He hung up and texted his mother’s phone number to Vivian. His mother was in the safest hands he could imagine — he’d watched Vivian take out a guy six inches taller than she was and armed with a knife without even breaking a sweat. But he wished he could go outside and look after his mother himself.
“We’re going to need you to come down to the station.” The male cop held a white tissue under his nose. “Give us a statement.”
“That won’t be possible,” Joe said. “I can give you a statement here.”
Detective Bailey reached for Joe’s elbow. “It’ll be quick.”
His heart rate soared, and Edison stepped up next to him, his nose nuzzling against Joe’s palm. “I will not leave this concourse.”
“I understand you’re upset, sir,” she said. “You’ve had—”
“Mr. Tesla,” called a voice from behind him. “Are you and that dog all right?”
Miss Evaline from the information booth hurried over. Commuters parted to make way for her round form. He bet even the nuns would have let the clerk through.
“He’s fine, miss,” said Detective Bailey. “He needs to come with us.”
The cop with the bloody nose stood straighter. “He does.”
“He most certainly does not,” said Miss Evaline. “This is Mr. Joe Tesla, and he’s not going anywhere.”
Detective Bailey let go of his elbow and gave him an appraising look instead. “We don’t need to leave the building, Mr. Tesla, if that’s too uncomfortable for you.”
Turned out, being a famous recluse, even if you weren’t related to Nikola Tesla, had its perks. Joe felt angry everyone knew about his agoraphobia, even when it worked to his advantage.
“Thank you,” he said. “How about we take a statement in the lobby of the Hyatt? It’s quieter.”
“That would do fine,” she said.
“You all right, Mr. Tesla?” Miss Evaline asked again.
He realized he was shaking. All that adrenaline had no place to go. “I’m fine.”
She knelt next to Edison and ran her hands over the dog, making sure he hadn’t been hurt, something Joe should have thought to do himself.
“What a brave boy!” she crooned. “A good, brave boy.”
Edison’s tail wagged. He knew he was a good dog. Joe wished he could say the same about himself. He fished out a treat and gave it to the dog.
As Detective Bailey led the way toward the Hyatt, Joe trundled after her with his suitcase and Edison. He couldn’t help but notice the detective’s simple grace. She was coordinated and surefooted, walking with easy confidence and without a trace of her partner’s swagger. She tilted her head to the side, her glance saying that she’d caught Joe looking.
Chapter 11
Vivian was glad she still had on her formal suit from the wedding. Otherwise, they probably never would have let her breathe the rarefied air of the Waldorf. The doorman would have sensed, with his doorman radar, that she could never afford to stay here and tossed her out on her butt.
As it was, she walked through the white and gold columns unmolested, careful not to slip on the marble floor, and made for the elevators. Nobody in the lobby seemed like a threat — rich folks and their bodyguards and children. Nothing unexpected.
When Vivian had called her, Tesla’s mother had given her the room number and promised not to leave until she got there. On the phone, she seemed more irritated than frightened. Only a few minutes after Tesla’s call, Vivian knocked on Mrs. Tesla’s door.
Hugh Hollingberry answered and showed her inside. He looked worried, and he locked the door behind her.
The suite was done in reds and silver, with a spindly looking table holding the television. She figured the table cost more than she made in a month.
“I’m sorry to be seeing you again under these circumstances, ma’am,” said Vivian.
Mrs. Tesla gestured to a silver tray on the table in front of her. “I’ve ordered tea.”
“I’d like to check that the suite is empty,” Vivian said.
Mrs. Tesla raised her eyebrows. “I’m sure any killer would have had the sense to strike before we brought in a bodyguard.”
“I understand, ma’am, but I still need to check.”
Mrs. Tesla raised her shoulders in an irritated shrug, and Vivian took that as a yes. She went through the bedroom. When she checked the closet, she was surprised by how many clothes Mrs. Tesla had brought. Nothing hiding in there and nothing in the bathroom or under the bed.
Hugh Hollingberry was still standing next to Mrs. Tesla, his hand on her shoulder, when Vivian returned.
“My son is a little paranoid. He gets it from his father.” Mrs. Tesla poured Vivian a cup of tea and handed it to her. “But I’m certain you know this already.”
Vivian wasn’t going to reveal what she did and didn’t know about Joe Tesla. “What was in the suitcase the thief tried to take from Mr. Tesla?”
“Odds and ends his father wanted Joe to have. Papers, mostly.”
There had to be more to it than that. “What kind of papers?”
“Whatever a father leaves a son,” she said. “I’m certain Joe knows more about it than I do. He’s an enigmatic man, don’t you think?”
“I’m sure I don’t know, ma’am.” Vivian wasn’t divulging anything, and neither was Mrs. Tesla.
“He’s a very good son, but he worries too much about his mother.” Mrs. Tesla smiled at Hollingberry. “It was kind of him to send you here, but unnecessary.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t think so.”
“He is not the one who determines such things.”
Vivian wasn’t sure how to respond, so she kept quiet. Mrs. Tesla clearly didn’t like being told what to do or being imposed upon. Vivian would probably react the same way.
“I need my privacy,” Mrs. Tesla said.
“I understand, ma’am, and I will stay out of your way as much as I can.”
Mrs. Tesla shook her head. “Please leave us in peace. I want no police, or security, or whatever you call yourself, watching me. I can look after myself.”
“Mr. Tesla was very clear that I remain with you until he says otherwise.”
“So I shall be very clear as well — he has no say here. He is my son, not my keeper.”
Hollingberry twitched ever so slightly.
“I’ll be outside if you need me.” Vivian didn’t need to sit in the woman’s lap to protect her, although it’d be easier if she stayed close.
Mrs. Tesla crossed to the door, unlocked it, and opened it. “It was kind of you to stop by.”
Chapter 12
Joe was damn glad the elevator was working again. He pulled the doors closed and lifted the lever to make the cage move. The suitcase bumped against the back of his knee. Usually, the elevator made him nervous, but not today. He’d been through too much drama on the concourse to have any worry left about the elevator.