Page 24

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: CICELY

Lily pokes her head into the hospital room where Frodo sits beside his aunt. “We’re leaving now. Do you need anything before we leave?”

“Actually, yes. I just got off the phone with your father. He wants me to make sure you both get back home safely.”

“I don’t work tomorrow, but I’m going to need my car,” I protest.

“I’ll make sure you get it. Don’t worry. The Boss doesn’t believe either of you was the target today, but he isn’t taking any chances with your safety.”

Frodo leads us to the elevator. Once inside, I turn to him. “What about your aunt? Did you call the police?”

I don’t miss the shared look that passes between him and Lily. I also understand the meaning. “Of course you didn’t.”

Lily steps closer to me and brushes her hand down my arm. “You have to understand…” she starts, but I raise my hand to stop her.

“I do understand. If I’d had thought it through, I would have realized that would be the decision. The only decision you could make. You’ll want to see what you can discover before involving the police. The detective in charge of the case showed a lack of concern for the victims.”

As we exit the elevator, Frodo studies me. “What do you mean?”

“He was dismissive of them. Commented on how the only people missing them are their cats. Like neither of them had family who cared about them.”

“Hmm,” Frodo says as he guides us to his car.

“What are you thinking?” Lily asks, turning in the passenger seat to study him.

“Why did he assume the women had no one looking out for them?”

I shrug. “He thought they were homeless until I pointed out they had beauty treatments no homeless person could afford. These women had been waxed and had pedicures and manicures, even though the injuries to their hands made the latter less evident. He thought they were indigent because of where he found them. After they brutalized the women, the assholes dumped them on the street near homeless encampments. At least that’s what he told me.”

We drive silently for the remainder of the trip and soon pull into a magnificent estate's long, tree-lined driveway. The trees are old and have grown together to create a tunnel that blocks most of the sun. The effect was probably eerie in the winter, but it takes on a romantic quality in the spring. The estate before us is gorgeous. The limestone gleams golden in the evening sun. The light reflects off the multitude of windows wrapped in wrought iron. The glorious home looks like it was plucked out of the lavender fields of France and plopped down in the affluent suburb of Chicago.

“Beautiful home,” I say as we exit Frodo’s car.

“It’s been in Beverly’s family for several generations. Her ancestor invested in railroads early on and made a fortune. He built this home for his wife after they spent their Honeymoon travelling in France. His wife fell in love with their architecture.” Frodo chuckles. “I remember coming here as a child and thinking Beverly was a princess.”

Stepping up to the door, Frodo knocks. The door opens to reveal a dapper man dressed all in black. He greets Frodo by name.

“Duggar, it’s good to see you,” Frodo replies. “I’m here about Beverly.”

Duggar’s eyebrows raise in question, but that’s the only sign of surprise. “Ms. Harriman is out of the country.”

“No, she’s not. She’s in the ICU at Insight Hospital. I just saw her. Someone beat the shit out of her and now she’s in a coma.”

Duggar staggers back, shaking his head. “No. How?”

Frodo takes the man’s arm and moves us into the house. He leads the older man into a charming sitting room with museum-quality furnishings. The chairs and sofa have pale silk cushions in a light cream, the color of champagne, and the trims are intricately carved dark wood. Frodo leads Duggar to a chair and forces him to sit. Duggar argues, but he finally succumbs to Frodo’s insistence.

“That’s what I’m here to find out. When was the last time you saw her?”

“Last Sunday. She returned from her church service with Monsignor Joseph and a visiting priest. They had brunch and spent the afternoon discussing the various charities Ms. Harriman supports. The men left around 5:00. She spent the evening working in her office and reading, then retired at ten. Mondays are the staff’s day off. She normally rises around eight and fixes herself coffee and toast. When we returned in the evening, she was not at home. She left a message explaining that she had decided to go out of town for the week and wouldn’t return until today. She suggested we take the week off and spend time with our families since she would not be in residence.”

“Was that normal?” I ask.

“It wasn’t abnormal. When she was not in residence, we would use the opportunity to thoroughly clean the residence or oversee repairs or upgrades. However, she’s given the staff vacation on a few occasions, but she’d usually give us advanced warnings so we could plan vacations.”

“But not this time?”

“No. She never mentioned planning a trip, which was odd, because normally a maid would oversee the packing.”

“Are her suitcases gone?” I ask.

He opens his mouth, then closes it. “I don’t know. I didn’t check.”

He calls for a maid to accompany Frodo and us upstairs to help go through their mistress’s closet to see what she took with her.

Frodo rises, and we follow him and the maid up the stairs into a feminine bedroom with plush cream carpet. Silk wallpaper, the color of a dusty pink rose, covers the walls and matches the bed coverings on the four-poster bed. A gorgeous vanity carved out of mahogany with gold inlays matches the dresser, nightstands, and bed.

I admire the room while the maid enters the massive walk-in closet. She exits quickly. “Nothing is missing except one outfit. Her suitcases and clothes are all in place. However, her jewelry is missing. Her safe is open and empty.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Frodo admits. “What about the rest of the house? Anything else missing?”

“I’ll check,” the maid offers before rushing out of the room.

Frodo sits on the bed and stares at the closet.

“What are you thinking?” Lily asks.

“Her hands. I thought the burning of her fingers was only to hide her identity, but I think they tortured her to get the combination for the safe. She has another safe in her office downstairs. I bet we’ll find that open and empty as well. Not that they just stopped there. I doubt she would have withheld the information they wanted. After all, she could replace whatever they took out of those safes. They took the beatings and the torture further. Almost obliterating her in the process. Fucking bastards.”

I feel sick at his words. He’s right. That was the impression I got when I saw both women. Whoever attacked them beat them into oblivion. “Why?” I ask.

Frodo shrugs. “I don’t know. But we’ll find them and we’ll ask them.” He stands and moves toward the door before turning back. “Can you pack her a bag with some of her clothes? Pajamas and a robe? So she can change into something more comfortable once she wakes up? I think she’d like that. Also, is there something loose for her to wear when she leaves the hospital? I know it might be a while before that happens, but for a woman like Beverley, clothes are a comfort and armor.”

Lily and I enter Beverley’s closet, and I try not to be in awe of its size. My entire apartment would fit in the space. Racks of clothes hang in color-coordinated sections. Several garment bags lay discarded on the floor, their contents missing. The shoe racks have several empty spots. Cream-colored cabinets sit at the center of the space. Opening the drawers, I find lingerie divided between two drawers, again coordinated by color.

Lily finds a set of suitcases in Beverley’s signature cream and pink colors with solid gold accents. She opens one on top of the center cabinet before pulling a set of high-waisted elastic slacks from their hanger and folding them carefully before placing them at the bottom of the suitcase. She pulls a matching long-sleeved shirt made of cream silk. The cut will hang loose on the woman’s tiny frame.

I add a matching bra and panties to the bag, along with several silk pajama sets and a matching robe—all in cream. Searching the drawers, I’m surprised but pleased to find several sets of soft, fluffy socks. I add them to the bag.

“This will help her feel more comfortable once she wakes up,” Lily says. “Frodo can return and get more of her things if she wants them.”

Grabbing the suitcase, I follow Lily downstairs. We find Frodo in the home office. Another space full of feminine beauty.

“Safe is empty,” Frodo says as he sits at Beverly’s desk. “The assholes have stolen several other items, including a few paintings. Duggar is making a list of all the missing items.”

As he explains, I move around the space and study the photographs she has hanging on the walls and sitting on the various surfaces around the room. I spot a photo containing a group of five older women. I recognize Beverly in the center, but the woman on her right captures my attention. Her lavender gray hair is very familiar. Looking back at Lily and Frodo, who are too busy to notice me, I snag the picture and place it inside the suitcase. While I agree with Frodo’s need to have the Family find the assholes who attacked his aunt, I also want to help the other women find their families. At least one Jane Doe is in the photo, and I know Byte or Mode can discover their names.