Page 63 of Irish Rose
“I brought you some food. You gotta promise to be quiet. Durnam would have my hide for coming in here like this. If you promise not to scream, I’ll take the gag off so you can eat. If you make noise, I put it back and you get nothing.”
She nodded, then drew in fresh air when her mouth was free. It wasn’t easy to smother the instinct to cry out, but she could still taste the gag he’d pulled from her mouth. “Please, why are you doing this? If it’s money you want, you can have it.”
“I’m in too deep.” He had a sandwich that was rapidly going stale. “Eat some or you’ll get sick.”
“What difference does it make?” Just the smell of the meat between the bread made her stomach turn. “You’re going to kill me anyway.”
“Now, I don’t have nothing to do with that.” She saw the panic in his eyes and the sweat beading on his lip. He was as afraid as she was. If she could use that, she might yet have a chance.
“You know what Durnam’s going to do. He can’t let me go.”
“He just wants to win, that’s all. He needs to. Got himself in some financial trouble, and his stable isn’t as good as it was. Charlie’s Pride is his best shot, but Logan’s colt is better. That’s why he had me hire on at Three Aces, so I could keep an eye on things and make sure the race went wrong. But that’s it,” he added, glancing around. He was talking too much. He always talked too much when he got nervous. And he wanted a drink. The saliva in his mouth had dried to nothing. “I just sweetened the horse some. That’s what Durnam wanted. He just needs to put him out of the running. You gotta understand, this is business. Just business.”
“You’re talking about races. I’m talking about murder.”
“I don’t want to hear about it. I got nothing to do with that. Now you eat.”
“Mr.... I don’t know your name.”
“It’s Berley, ma’am. Tom Berley.” Ridiculous as it was, he lifted his fingers to his cap.
“Mr. Berley, I’m begging you for my life. And not just for mine, but for the baby I’m carrying. You can’t let him kill my baby. Now you’ll only be in trouble about the horse, but this is murder. An innocent child, Mr. Berley.”
“I’m not going to hear no more talk about killing.” His voice had roughened, but his hands weren’t steady when they pulled the gag up again. He no longer wanted a drink, he needed one desperately. He started to replace the blindfold, but the look in her eyes had him hesitating. There was nothing for her to see anyway, he told himself. The back of the van was windowless, and the cab was blocked off by a wooden partition.
“You don’t want to eat, that’s your business. I’ve got my own to see to.” He stuffed the sandwich in his pocket. Erin saw him look both ways before he stepped out the door again and left her in the dark.
Chapter Eleven
“I’d prefer if you’d go out and look for my wife, Lieutenant, rather than sitting here asking me questions.”
Lieutenant Hallinger was nearly sixty, and after thirty-seven years on the force he figured he’d seen it all and heard twice as much. He’d certainly experienced more than his share of frustrated and angry spouses. It seemed to him that the man in front of him was both.
“Mr. Logan, we have an APB out on your wife right now, and several officers are asking questions at the track.” Though he envied Burke his cigar, he didn’t mention it. “It would help clear things up, and give us a better chance of locating your wife, if you’d fill me in.”
“I’ve already told you Erin hasn’t come back to the hotel. No one’s seen her since this morning, and her wedding ring was found at the stables at Churchill Downs.”
“Some people are careless with jewelry, Mr. Logan.”
Some people. What the hell was this business about some people? They were talking about Erin, his Erin. Where the hell was she? He looked back at Hallinger again and spoke precisely. “Not Erin. And not with her wedding ring.”
“Um-hmm.” He made a notation in his book. “Mr. Logan, occasionally this sort of thing comes down to a simple misunderstanding.” He could have written a book, Hallinger thought. Yeah, he could’ve written a book on misunderstandings alone. “Did you and your wife quarrel this morning?”
“No.”
“It’s possible she rented a car and decided to do a little sight-seeing.”
“That’s ridiculous.” He glanced up as Travis handed him a cup of coffee. Burke accepted it but set it aside. “If Erin had wanted to go for a drive, she would have taken the car we’ve already rented. She would have told me she was leaving and she would have been back two hours ago. We had plans for this evening.”
He’d had plans himself, which had included a nice quiet evening with his own wife. And a footbath. Hallinger wriggled his aching toes inside his shoes. “Derby week can be chaotic. It might have slipped her mind.”
“Erin’s the most responsible person I know. If she’s not here, it’s because she can’t get here.” He thought again of the hateful and terrifying calls he’d already made to the hospitals. “Because someone’s keeping her from getting here.”
“Mr. Logan, kidnapping usually prompts a ransom call. You’re a wealthy man, yet you tell me you haven’t been contacted.”
“No, I haven’t been contacted.” But he still broke out in a sweat every time the phone rang. “Look, Lieutenant, I’ve told you everything I know. And I’m damn sick of going over the same ground when you should be out doing your job. I’d go out and look myself, but I feel it’s more important for me to stay here and... ” Wait. Endlessly.
Hallinger glanced over his notes. He was a thin man with small, aching feet and a quiet voice. He was a man who took his appearance as seriously as he took his job. It was possible for him to admire Burke’s casually expensive shoes while noting his nerves and anxiety.
