It did cross my mind. Consider the circumstances. You cancelled the wedding without warning. And then you skipped town. Of course we wondered about your motives. Whether youd received some kind of threat and decided to run.
No, thats not at all what happened. I called it off because I didnt want to get married.
Mind telling me why?
Roberts face tightened. Yes, as a matter of fact, he answered. Abruptly he rose from the chair and strode over to the liquor cabinet. There he poured himself a shot of Scotch and stood gulping it, not looking at Sam.
Ive met your fiancée, stated Sam. She seems like a nice woman. Bright, attractive. Im sure as hell attracted to her, he couldnt help adding to himself.
Youre asking why I left her at the altar, arent you? said Robert.
Why did you?
Robert finished off his drink and poured himself another.
Did you two have an argument?
No.
What was it, Dr. Bledsoe? Cold feet? Boredom? Sam paused. Another woman?
Robert turned and glared at him. This is none of your damn business. Get out of my house.
If you insist. But Ill be talking to you again. Sam crossed to the front door, then stopped and turned back. Do you know anyone whod want to hurt your fiancée?
No.
Anyone whod want her dead?
What a ridiculous question.
Someone tried to run her car off the road this afternoon.
Robert jerked around and stared at him. He looked genuinely startled. Nina? Who did?
Thats what Im trying to find out. It may or may not be connected to the bombing. Do you have any idea at all whats going on? Who might try to hurt her?
There was a split seconds hesitation before Robert answered. No. No one I can think of. Where is she?
Shes in a safe place for tonight. But she cant stay in hiding forever. So if you think of anything, give me a call. If you still care about her.
Robert didnt say anything.
Sam turned and left the house.
Driving home, he used his car phone to dial Gillis. His partner, predictably, was still at his desk. The bridegrooms back in town, Sam told him. He claims he has no idea why the church was bombed.
Why am I not surprised? Gillis drawled.
Anything new turn up?
Yeah. Were missing a janitor.
What?
The church janitor. The one who unlocked the building this morning. Weve been trying to track him down all evening. He never got home tonight.
Sam felt his pulse give a little gallop of excitement. Interesting.
Weve already got an APB out. The mans name is Jimmy Brogan. And he has a record. Petty theft four years ago and two OUIs, that kind of stuff. Nothing major. I sent Cooley out to talk to the wife and check the house.
Does Brogan have any explosives experience?
Not that we can determine. The wife swears up and down that hes clean. And hes always home for dinner.
Give me more, Gillis. Give me more.
Thats all I have to give, unless you want me to slit open a vein. Right now Im bushed and Im going home.
Okay, call it a day. Ill see you in the morning.
All the way home, Sams mind was churning with facts. A cancelled wedding. A missing church janitor. An assassin in a black Ford.
And a bomb.
Where did Nina Cormier fit in this crazy thicket of events?
It was eleven-thirty when he finally arrived home. He let himself in the front door, stepped into the house, and turned on the lights. The familiar clutter greeted him. What a god-awful mess. One of these days hed have to clean up the place. Or maybe he should just move; thatd be easier.
He walked through the living room, picking up dirty laundry and dishes as he went. He left the dishes in the kitchen sink, threw the laundry in the washing machine, and started the wash cycle. A Saturday night, and the swinging bachelor does his laundry. Wow. He stood in his kitchen, listening to the machine rumble, thinking about all the things he could do to make this house more of a home. Furniture, maybe? It was a good, sound little house, but he kept comparing it to Robert Bledsoes house with its Steinway piano, the sort of house any woman would be delighted to call home.
Hell, Sam wouldnt know what to do with a woman even if one was crazy enough to move in with him. Hed been a bachelor too long, alone too long. Thered been the occasional woman, of course, but none of them had ever lasted. Too often, he had to admit, the fault lay with him. Or with his work. They couldnt understand why any man in his right mind would actually choose to stay with this insane job of bombs and bombers. They took it as a personal affront that he wouldnt quit the job and chose them instead.
Maybe hed just never found a woman who made him want to quit.
And this is the result, he thought, gazing wearily at the basket of unfolded clothes. The swinging bachelor life.
He left the washing machine to finish its cycle and headed off to bed.
As usual, alone.
THE LIGHTS WERE ON at 318 Ocean View Drive. Someone was home. The Cormier woman? Robert Bledsoe? Or both of them?
Driving slowly past the house in his green Jeep Cherokee, he took a good long look at the house. He noted the dense shrubbery near the windows, the shadow of pine and birch trees ringing both edges of the property. Plenty of cover. Plenty of concealment.
Then he noticed the unmarked car parked a block away. It was backlit by a streetlamp, and he could see the silhouettes of two men sitting inside. Police, he thought. They were watching the house.
Tonight was not the time to do it.
He rounded the corner and drove on.
This matter could wait. It was only a bit of cleanup, a loose end that he could attend to in his spare time.
He had other, more important work to complete, and only a week in which to do it.
He drove on, toward the city.
AT 9:00 a.m., the guards came to escort Billy The Snowman Binford from his jail cell.
His attorney, Albert Darien, was waiting for him. Through the Plexiglas partition separating the two men, Billy could see Dariens grim expression and he knew that the news was not good. Billy sat down opposite his attorney. The guard wasnt standing close enough to catch their conversation, but Billy knew better than to speak freely. That stuff about attorney-client confidentiality was a bunch of bull. If the feds or the D.A. wanted you bad enough, theyd plant a bug on anyone, even your priest. It was outrageous, how theyd violate a citizens rights.
Hello, Billy, said Darien through the speaker phone. Howre they treating you?
Like a sultan. How the hell dyou think theyre treating me? You gotta get me a few favors, Darien. A private TV. Id like a private TV.
Billy, we got problems.
Billy didnt like the tone of Dariens voice. What problems? he asked.
Liddells not even going to discuss a plea bargain. Hes set on taking this to trial. Any other D.A.d save himself the trouble, but I think Liddells using you as a stepping stone to Blaine House.
Liddells running for governor?
He hasnt announced it. But if he puts you away, hell be golden. And Billy, to be honest, hes got more than enough to put you away.
Billy leaned forward and glared through the Plexiglas at his attorney. Thats what I pay you for. So what the hellre you doing about the situation?
Theyve got too much. Hobarts turned states witness.
Hobarts a sleazeball. Itll be a piece of cake to discredit him.
Theyve got your shipping records. Its all on paper, Billy.
Okay, then lets try again with a plea bargain. Anything. Just keep my time in here short.
I told you, Liddells nixed a plea bargain.
Billy paused. Softly he said, Liddell can be taken care of.
Darien stared at him. What do you mean?
You just get me a deal. Dont worry about Liddell. Im taking care of
I dont want to know about it. Darien sat back, his hands suddenly shaking. I dont want to know a damn thing, okay?
You dont have to. I got it covered.
Just dont get me involved.
All I want from you, Darien, is to keep this from going to trial. And get me out of here soon. You got that?
Yeah. Yeah. Darien glanced nervously at the guard, who wasnt paying the least bit of attention to their conversation. Ill try.
Just watch, said Billy. A cocky grin spread on his lips. Next week, thingsll be different. D.A.s office will be happy to talk plea bargain.
Why? What happens next week?
You dont want to know.
Darien exhaled a deep sigh and nodded. Youre right, he muttered. I dont want to know.
NINA AWAKENED to the bass thump of aerobics dance music. Downstairs, she found Daniella stretched out on the polished oak floor of the exercise room. This morning Daniella was garbed in a shiny pink leotard, and her sleek legs knifed effortlessly through the air with every beat of the music. Nina stood watching in fascination for a moment, mesmerized by that display of taut muscles. Daniella worked hard at her body. In fact, she did little else. Since her marriage to George Cormier, Daniellas only goal in life seemed to be physical perfection.
The music ended. Daniella sprang to her feet with an easy grace. As she turned to reach for a towel, she noticed Nina standing in the doorway. Oh. Good morning.
Morning, said Nina. I guess I overslept. Has Dad already left for work?
You know how he is. Likes to get started at the crack of dawn. With the towel, Daniella whisked away a delicate sheen of perspiration. A discomforting silence stretched between them. It always did. It was more than just the awkwardness of their relationship, the bizarre reality that this golden goddess was technically Ninas stepmother. It was also the fact that, except for their connection through George Cormier, the two women had absolutely nothing in common.
And never had that seemed more apparent to Nina than at this moment, as she stood gazing at the perfect face of this perfect blonde.
Daniella climbed onto an exercise bike and began pedaling away. Over the whir of the wheel, she said, George had some board meeting. Hell be home for dinner. Oh, and you got two phone calls this morning. One was from that policeman. You know, the cute one.
Detective Navarro?
Yeah. He was checking up on you.
So hes worried about me, thought Nina, feeling an unexpected lifting of her spirits. Hed cared enough to make sure she was alive and well. Then again, maybe he was just checking to make sure he didnt have a new corpse on his hands.