“Ah-ha!” a low voice exclaimed, a man’s voice. “I knew you wouldn’t throw it away and now I’ve got it back!”
There was a creak as the man sat down on the bed, immediately above her, and Hannah held her breath again. He wasn’t going to stretch out and go to sleep here, was he?
Something was happening. He was panting slightly.
Hannah turned her head and took a chance she would not have taken if she’d thought it through before she acted. She lifted the bedskirt and peeked out of the opening she’d made.
Black tennis shoes with silver shoelaces. And there was a silver stripe on the side, about an inch up from the sole. They looked as if they were new, or almost new, and the tip of the lace she could see was shiny, as if it were made of real silver.
“I knew you’d save it,” the voice said, and paper rustled above Hannah’s head. “You said you’d thrown it away, but I knew you wouldn’t do that. It meant too much to you, and you kept it. You would have changed your mind about me, Tori. I know that. But you never got a chance to tell me so. Who did this to you? I just wish there were some way you could tell me! Who could do something so horrible to you?!”
The bed creaked as the man got up, and Hannah dropped the bedspread and let it whisper back into place. And then, as he moved toward the door, his footfalls grew softer. He was heading down the hallway with whatever he’d taken from Tori’s bed table.
“Shhhh!” Norman warned in a whisper, squeezing her hand. “Not a word until he leaves.”
They remained there, stretched out on their stomachs, motionless and still until both of them heard the sound of the outer door opening and then shutting again.
“He had a key!” Hannah whispered.
“Maybe. Or maybe he’s as good as I am at picking locks. Don’t get up, Hannah. If he forgot anything, he might come back.”
And so they remained there, under Tori’s king-size bed, until they heard the sound of the elevator descending.
Norman released Hannah’s hand. “Okay,” he told her. “You can get out now. Let’s go see if Michelle’s okay. I don’t think he went into Tori’s studio at all.”
Hannah squirmed out of her uncomfortable confinement and stood up to brush off her clothes. She was covered in dust and it was obvious that Tori’s cleaning woman hadn’t bothered to vacuum under her bed.
“Did you see him?” she asked as she followed Norman to the bedroom doorway and down the hall to the studio.
“No, did you?”
Hannah shook her head. “No, but I saw his shoes. And I’ll recognize them if I see them again. They were black with silver laces. And they had a stripe on the side.”
“That’s something,” Norman said, turning back to give her a friendly hug. “You did fine, Hannah. I’m positive that he didn’t know we were there.”
“Me, too.” Hannah followed Norman into Tori’s studio and both of them hurried to the standing wardrobes. “Which one?” Hannah asked him.
“This one.” Norman lifted the catch and opened the wardrobe. He pushed aside several period dresses from the turn of the last century to reveal Michelle, crouching there.
“Boy, am I glad to see you!” she said, holding out her hands so that Norman could help her to her feet. “I forgot to look, but these things don’t open from the inside. I would have been in there until Mother and Doc came looking for me. I think I would have been frozen in that crouch for the rest of my life!”
Chapter Seventeen
“Did you find anything?” Delores asked as her daughters and Norman arrived back at the penthouse.
“Maybe,” Hannah told her. “We found a bill from a business management service in New York.”
“Then you know Tori’s business manager’s name?”
“Not exactly,” Norman admitted. “The bill has the name of the management firm on top, and it lists four of the principals below it.”
“Then one of those four people was Tori’s business manager?” Delores asked them.
“Not necessarily.” Michelle answered. “If it’s the same as a big law firm, we have to assume that more people work at that firm than the principals who are listed.”
Delores sighed. “Of course you’re right. So how are you going to tell which one was Tori’s money guy?”
“I’m not sure,” Hannah told her. “Do you and Doc have any suggestions for us?”
“Let’s go ask Doc.” Delores led the way to the garden area. “We’re enjoying a glass of champagne. Would you like one?”
Hannah shook her head. “No, thanks, Mother. I’ll just have cold water, if you have any left in the cooler.”
“There’s always plenty of bottled water in the cooler. I also have iced tea and iced coffee.”
“Then I’d love iced coffee!” Hannah told her.
“Me, too,” Michelle echoed the request.
Norman nodded when Delores turned to him. “I agree with the Swensen sisters. Iced coffee would be wonderful. But if you don’t have enough, iced tea will do just fine for me.”
“I’ll have plenty in just a minute,” Delores told him, picking up the phone on the table next to her chair. “This is a direct line and I’ll simply order it. That’s one of the wonderful perks about living in the penthouse. We can order anything we want from the Red Velvet Lounge in the lobby. They send it right up and all I have to do is meet them at the elevator.”
Hannah remembered the nights on the cruise ship when Ross had ordered drinks, or food from their butler. It was a convenience most people didn’t have in their lives.
“Doc and I decided that we were hungry at midnight last night,” Delores went on, “and all we had to do was call down to the lounge and they brought up grilled cheese sandwiches and ice cream.” She turned to Doc. “You liked it, didn’t you, dear?”
“You know I did. I ate half of your grilled cheese and all of mine. And the homemade strawberry ice cream was great.” Doc slipped his arm around Delores’s shoulders and gave her a little hug. “You’re a much better cook than you used to be.”