This was Mrs. Alvin Grove, on the board of the Children’s Museum, daughter of Palmer Tiptree, of Tiptree Pharmaceuticals, and mother of two.
Now I understood. She would rather die than let anyone know what had happened to her daughter and herself.
Chapter 3
MRS. GROVE STOOD when I came into the room, took my hands in hers, said, “Mr. Morgan, I want to thank you again.”
“My name is Jack. Of course, you’re welcome, Mrs. Grove. How are you doing?”
“Call me Belinda. I’m ashamed that I was so easily tricked,” she said, sitting down again. “We were having lunch in the Polo Lounge, my daughter and I, and we were talking about the Children’s Museum. Those monsters were at the next table and overheard us. Gozan said he had many children and would be interested in making a donation to the museum.
“Jack. They were well dressed. Looked well-heeled. They said they were diplomats. They were staying at the hotel. Gozan said he wanted to talk about making a sizable donation to the museum, but he wanted to discuss it privately.
“I ignored any warning signs. We went to the bungalow. I said that we couldn’t stay long, but a short chat would be all right. We are always looking for benefactors, Jack. They used Rohypnol or something damned close to it. It was in the champagne.”
“Don’t blame yourself. These are dangerous men.”
“I hope never to see either one of them again unless they’re hanging by their balls over a bonfire. I don’t think that Adrianna will be physically scarred, but emotionally…Emotionally, my daughter is in terrible
shape.”
Terrible shape was an understatement. Adrianna had been drugged, probably raped, maybe by both men, and Khezir Mazul had stroked her throat with a serrated blade. She would have a scar across her neck for as long as she lived.
I hated to think what would have happened to these women had I not been tipped off, if we hadn’t shown up when we did.
I started to reason with Mrs. Grove, explain to her that if she made a complaint, Remari and Mazul might be deported.
She shook her head, warning me off.
“My daughter is a senior at Stanford. It would be tragic if she had to leave school. What happened today is something Adrianna and I will learn from and, at the same time, try to forget. That’s how one deals with horror, don’t you think?”
I said, “I’d suggest some counseling…”
She ignored me and went on. “My responsibility now is only to Adrianna, and I’m going to make sure that she has whatever she needs in order to heal.”
She stood up. “You take care, Jack. God bless. I mean that.”
Belinda Grove left the beige room with her head down, passing Captain Warren, who was on his way back in.
Luke Warren and I talked together for several minutes. There were no angles to work, no strings to pull. But there are a few cases every year that I want to work pro bono, and I thought this might become one of them.
I told the captain to call me anytime, that I would work with him free of charge. Happy to do it.
I thought if we caught them, I could convince Mazul and Remari to leave the country for good.
Chapter 4
I MADE THE return trip home under the speed limit and in record time, drove up to my gate, and left my car outside on the grass so that it would be easier for Justine to get out in the morning.
I no longer slept in the master suite, not since Colleen’s murder. I’d taken over the guest room that faced the front garden and had sliders out to the back deck.
The full moon was perfectly balanced above the ocean, and moonlight came through the glass, bathing the white bedding in a pearly glow. Justine looked ethereal, as if she were made of dreams.
I put my gun on the nightstand and got into bed beside her. She was sleeping soundly, but she turned at my touch and curled against me. I put my arms around her and kissed the part in her hair. She murmured my name and we kissed good night.
I tried to stop thinking, to let myself drift off. But there was too much inside my mind and it all fought for my attention: the men from Sumar; Colleen, dead, with her eyes open, three bullets in her chest.
And I thought about that night in Afghanistan when I was piloting a transport helicopter to Kandahar from base with fourteen Marines in the cargo bay. A ground-to-air missile fired from the back of a pickup hit the aircraft in the belly and took out the tail rotor section.