“You’re kidding.” I couldn’t take much more of this. I placed my empty glass on a nearby service tray. “Tell you what, I’ll keep an eye on her and let you know if I notice anything odd going on.”
“Would you?” She gripped my arm. “Thank you. I hate to be so suspicious, but I can’t help it. Sometimes I work late at night and I’m so worried there will be another attack.”
“You poor thing,” I said, patting her hand. “You must be under a lot of strain.” What with the unbridled murder and mayhem and all, I added silently.
“Oh, don’t worry about me,” she said bravely. “I’ll be fine.”
“I hope so.” And I hoped she’d get a lovely cell with a nice view of her neighbor, Big Beulah. “I’m going to run to the ladies’ room. Then maybe I’ll grab another one of those TNTs. Have you tried one yet?”
“Just a taste. I figured I’d better stay sober.”
“Too bad, because they rock. I’ll be back in a few.” I waved and headed for the bathroom. Once inside, I sagged against the door and exhaled in relief.
I should’ve been exhausted, but my outrage energized me. The fact that she could keep up the pretense so easily made me realize we were dealing with a true sociopath. She was perfectly willing to implicate anyone—Cynthia, Naomi, Karalee, to name a few. I had to wonder if she’d brought my name up to the others as a possible suspect. It wouldn’t have surprised me.
I used the facilities, then took another deep breath and walked out. The bathrooms were down the hall from the workroom where Gabriel and Alice had agreed to meet. I checked my watch. Less than ten minutes to go. I had to assume the good guys were in their places.
The room they’d chosen was one of the individual workrooms BABA rented out to bookbinders and artists who needed space to work. Some rooms were used for individual studies and small group classes. I’d taught a few master classes with three or four students in these types of rooms and knew their design. They all had a small anteroom leading to the main workroom, with a closet off the anteroom.
They would never know I was in there. I’d played my role out front, kept an eye on Alice for as long as I could stand it. Now I belonged back here.
If Gabriel was already in there and saw me, that would be the end of it. But if I could sneak inside unnoticed, I would be able to hear everything and know that Alice was Layla’s killer. I would feel vindicated, and at the same time, no one would have to know I was there. Derek wouldn’t worry and all would end well.
Without further deliberation, I tiptoed farther down the hall to the workroom. The door opened without a sound and I crept inside. The room was empty.
My heart pounding, I carefully opened the closet door and slipped inside. The small space was dark but not completely black, thank goodness. My eyes slowly adjusted and I could see the shelves above my head. I crouched in the corner and waited.
Less than five minutes later, I heard the outer door open and shut quickly.
Five minutes after that, it opened and shut again.
“Hey, babe,” Gabriel said, his tone a casual drawl.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Alice said, her voice huskier than usual. So even her voice was fraudulent? Unbelievable.
“I’m digging the pixie look,” Gabriel said derisively. “What’s with the Alice in Wonderland charade?”
“It’s working for me,” she said. “You’re looking a little pale. Feeling okay?”
“I really appreciate your concern, considering it was your bullet that nailed me. Have a seat.”
It was a smart move to get her to sit down. That was the only way Gabriel could get off his feet.
“So, Mary Grace,” he said. “I was surprised to hear you’d moved into my world. You’re getting into books.”
“It’s where the money is.”
“So you’re finding it lucrative?”
“I’m doing okay,” Alice demurred.
“Come on, babe. I hear you’re making a killing.”
“Oh, that’s a terrible pun,” Alice said, giggling.
I shook my head in disbelief at the fact that she could admit to a pun about making a killing. It was practically a confession of murder as far as I was concerned. And I was still annoyed by the radical change in her voice from the way she’d talked to me. She really was diabolical.
Gabriel asked her how she’d stumbled onto the book-fraud gig. Alice told him she’d been cooling her heels after a fine art con in Belgium went south, so she’d skipped over to San Francisco and put out feelers here. She caught a whiff of a rare-book scam going down and followed her nose to BABA. After a few months of careful planning and several efforts to prove her street cred, she finally came to the attention of Layla Fontaine.