“You’re just saying that.”
“I would have no reason to. She said the problem was hers, not yours. And that you’d been supportive of her even with all her mistakes. And before we parted ways at the bus station, she told me that she knew you loved her and that she loved you. She had every intention of calling you and making amends. I think she knew it was because of you that she had this shot at getting her life back on track.”
Malloy was now quietly sobbing into her hands.
Robie rose, went back into the bathroom, and came out with a roll of toilet paper and handed it to her.
She used it to wipe her eyes and blow her nose.
Robie handed her back her weapon.
“I loved her too,” said Malloy.
“No doubt about that.”
“I can’t believe that she’s really gone.”
“I’m sorry, Valerie, I really am so sorry.”
“She was my only sibling. We were never that close growing up. She was super smart and I was the athlete in the family. We traveled in different circles, but I was as proud of her as a sister could be.”
“I’m sure. Family is tough. And complicated.”
“Do you have family?”
“My dad and a much younger half brother.”
“Do you see them much?”
“Not until recently. But I plan to see them more. They’re the only family I have.”
Malloy let out a long breath. “I can’t stay in this place much longer. I feel like I’m suffocating. I need to get back to my family. The family I have left.”
“I understand. You should.”
“Do you . . . do you know what they did with her body?”
“No, I don’t. I’m sorry. All hell broke loose and we barely got out alive.”
She rose and walked over to him.
Robie stood.
“About last night,” she began.
“I think we both needed something last night. And we got it.”
She slowly nodded. “I think you’re right about that.” She fell silent for a moment. “And Mr. Walton?”
“We might have a lead.”
“Tell me.”
“Are you sure? It’s not like you don’t have enough going on.”
“It takes my mind off.”
“Beverly Drango was Clément Lamarre’s girlfriend.”
Robie went on to tell Malloy all that he had learned and suspected about Drango’s connection to either or both Lambert and Scott Randall.
She said, “I met Randall once before. This was while Lambert was building out the silo and Scott Randall came into town to meet with him. Private jet, stretch limo. His bitch of a wife wasn’t with him, but he was plenty all by himself. I’ve never met a more self-centered, egotistical creep in my life.”
“I’ve found that guys who inherit like that often have a chip on their shoulder. The man brags too much about how successful he is. Somebody who’d earned it probably wouldn’t feel the need. You don’t see Warren Buffett telling everybody how brilliant he is at business. His actions speak for him.”
“But why would they be involved with prisoners in a van?” wondered Malloy.
“I’ve got no idea. There may be no connection, but it’s still odd that Drango worked a party for Lambert to celebrate Randall’s birthday, and her boyfriend is the one who saw the prisoners in the van and told her about it.”
“And now you say she’s disappeared?”
“Whether against her will or not, we don’t know. But her clothes were cleaned out and her car was gone.”
Malloy shook her head. “This is getting really muddy.”
“In my mind it’s been muddy for a long time.”
“I better get going. It’s late. I’m . . . I’m sorry I pulled my gun on you.”
“If it were me, I would’ve done the same and maybe more.”
She kissed him on the cheek.
He took her hand and said, “Whatever happens, I give you my word that I will get Dolph. He’s going to pay for what he did. You have to trust me on that.”
She stroked his cheek. “I do, Will. I do.”
He shut the door behind her, fell back on the bed, and closed his eyes.
Part of him wished he were back in London about to walk into a house with seventeen terrorists and a nuke.
It had to be easier than this.
CHAPTER
49
“Who sent her the note?”
It was the next morning and Reel stared at Robie across the width of the table in the hotel restaurant. Robie had told Reel about the prior night’s encounter with Malloy.
“I don’t know. She said someone slipped it under the door to the station.”
“Do you think it was Agent Sanders?”
“No. He would never divulge that, because it could torpedo his investigation. And it mentioned that we were there and Valerie should talk to us about it. Again, Sanders wouldn’t do that because it could tank what he’s trying to do.”
“But lots of people were there, Robie. It could be one of Dolph’s guys. They could have done it on his orders.”
“That’s more likely. But why would they want her to know?”
“To turn her against us?”
“Why would that matter to a guy like Dolph?”
“I don’t know.” She peered at him over her coffee cup. “When did Malloy tell you about this?”
“Late last night. She came to my room.”
“Oh, she did? Did you have sex before she told you? Or after?”
There was a long moment of silence as they stared at each other.
When Robie spoke, his tone was stiff. “You think she’d want to have sex with me after finding out I hadn’t told her that her sister had been murdered?”
Reel looked away. “I guess that would be pretty screwed up. But then so is everything we’re in the middle of here. Screwed up.”
“Some of it is our own doing.”
“No argument there.” Reel put down her cup. “We need to do something.”
“What?”
“If I knew that I’d be doing it,” she snapped.
“If we can get to Drango things might clear up.”
“Might. We need more than that.”
“I think she lied to us. She must know something.”
“So it could be Lambert and/or Randall and prisoners for some reason,” noted Reel.
“But prisoners for what purpose?”
“We answer that, we answer everything.”
“Drango could give us that answer,” Robie pointed out.
“But she’s on the run. We put the info on her out there and got zip. So how do we get any answers from her?” Reel retorted.
In answer Robie made a call. Into the phone he said, “Yes, we spoke yesterday about Beverly Drango? Right. Have you heard from her? Will she be showing up for work tonight?” Robie stiffened and glanced at Reel. “So she will be coming to work tonight. That’s great. I’m so relieved. I’d love to surprise her. Could you give me the address and time?”
He clicked off and stared at her. “How does that make sense? Drango clearly was on the run. But she’s pulling her gig tonight?”
“Where?”
“Same place. Lancaster Hotel in Denver.”
“I guess that’s where we’ll be tonight, then.”
“Guess so.”
*
Robie and Reel walked into the lobby of the Lancaster at six o’clock that night. The event Drango would be working was posted on a marquee board next to the check-in desk. It said it would start at six thirty. It was a retirement party for someone named Jorge Schindler in the lower-level ballroom.
“She’s probably already here doing setup,” noted Reel.
“Probably.”
“How do you want to do this?”
“With as little fuss as possible. I don’t want to drag her out of here, but I will if I have to.”
“The stairs to the lower level are over there,” said Reel.
They walked down them and hit the main corridor on the lower level. People were rushing around, obviously finishing up last-minute tasks to get the event ready for the guests.
Robie poked his head inside the ballroom and noted the casino set-up. Craps table, blackjack, a roulette wheel, and a row of slot machines.
Robie turned to Reel. “Drango works the craps table.”
“You see anyone there?”
“No one who looks like her.”
Reel checked her watch. “I see other people dressed up like they’re working in a casino.”
“Let’s ask.”