Читать книгу The Real Allie Newman - Janice Carter - Страница 11

ALLIE FIDGETED against the smooth leather upholstery of the car. She was tempted to take her Walkman out of her pack and listen to it, but was afraid Joel might be offended. She certainly wouldn’t be interrupting a flow of conversation, though. Since leaving Kingston an hour ago, he’d uttered scarcely half-a-dozen words. She leaned back and closed her eyes, thinking of last night.

After Joel had left, she’d been overcome by a fit of energy. She couldn’t understand the tumult of emotions his leaving had produced. Or was it the fraternal peck on her cheek? Why would that bother her at all? The kiss had been so neutral it couldn’t even be considered inappropriate. Allie sighed, opening her eyes just enough to sneak a glance at the man beside her.

He’d nicked himself shaving that morning, she noticed, spotting a small cut on the lower edge of his jaw. And the slightly puffy semicircles beneath his eyes indicated a rough night. Insomnia? she wondered, or had he hit the bars after leaving her? She dismissed the latter, deciding he was far too disciplined. Yet if he had been tossing and turning, what thoughts had kept him from sleep?

She doubted they were the same confused thoughts that had her pacing the apartment until finally she hopped on her bike and rode out to the farm. Susan had greeted her with pleased surprise, tinged with some dismay when she heard that Allie planned to leave the next morning for Michigan.

“Are you sure you can trust this man, dear? Do you feel you know him well enough for a six-hour drive? Why not take a bus?”

Allie hesitated. She felt that she could trust Joel Kennedy, although she realized, in the face of Susan’s questions, that she really had no basis for feeling that way. What exactly was it about him that had produced this belief that he was trustworthy? Not his warm, engaging manner, to be sure.

“How do you even know his story is legitimate?”

Allie didn’t like where Susan was going with this. In fact, it strongly reminded her of the old days when her father grilled her about a new date. “The photograph, remember? The one I found in Dad’s papers? And by the way, did you ever find anything else?”

Susan shook her head. “Nothing but some old receipts, insurance papers and so on. Did I tell you that there wasn’t a single income-tax return?”

“I guess you can’t file a return if you’re living under an alias.” Allie fell silent then, thinking of all the different jobs her father had held. Each one probably paid in cash.

“I suppose not,” Susan whispered. “It probably also explains why he refused to own a credit card and insisted on paying in cash for everything. When we bought the business together, I used his half for a cash deposit. He said he wanted the business to be in my name.” Her sigh sounded sad and regretful.

Allie hugged her. “Susan, I wish he were here to explain everything. And why he did it.”

“Me too.” Susan pulled away, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “Anyway, what about this Kennedy? Have you checked to see if he really is a private investigator?”

“No, I never thought of it.” Allie hesitated. She wasn’t even certain she wanted to check. But Susan was looking at her, obviously expecting her to do so. “I have his business card,” she said, and found it in her wallet.

“Is there an address on it?”

“No, just his name and two phone numbers. I’m not sure what state the area code represents. I guess it would be Michigan.” Allie suddenly realized she didn’t know very much at all about how Joel Kennedy came to be hired by Spiro Kostakis. She thought of all the questions she ought to have asked before agreeing to travel to Grosse Pointe with the man. Too late now.

“There’s no point dialing the cell phone number, because I’ll just reach him,” Allie said. “I’ll try the other number.” After several rings, an automated voice informed her that the number was no longer in service. Allie hung up.

“What is it?” Susan asked.

“Out of service. Maybe this is an old business card.”

“Maybe,” Susan murmured. Her forehead was creased with worry. “I don’t know about this.” She thought for a moment. “What about calling Spiro Kostakis—your grandfather?”

Allie was alarmed at the idea. “I can’t just call out of the blue. What would I say? This is the granddaughter you thought was dead for twenty-seven years?”

“It wouldn’t be a shock. I’m sure he already knows you’re coming. This Kennedy man would have called.”

Allie rubbed her temples. Why were things getting so complicated? “Look, Susan, I’ll be all right. I can’t explain it, but I feel in my gut that Joel Kennedy isn’t going to harm me. And I know he’s a good driver because I’ve already been in a car with him.” She forced a laugh, hoping to ease Susan’s anxiety. Rob Newman had always posed a last question to Allie’s dates just as they were walking out the door. Are you a good driver?

Susan’s smile suggested she was willing to back off even if she wasn’t happy about it. But the ride back into town gave Allie an opportunity to mull over some of their talk. She’d agreed to borrow Susan’s cell phone and had assured her that she could still perform the basic karate moves she’d learned a few years ago. Though if I really wanted to put him off, I’d just have to pucker up for a good kiss and he’d be gone in a flash. Allie snorted.

“What?”

“Huh?”

“Is something funny?” Joel took his eyes off the road for a moment, holding Allie’s gaze long enough for her to have second thoughts about his driving abilities.

“No no. Just thinking of something silly. Uh, something I read in one of my exam papers.”

Something funny on a math exam? His eyes left the windshield again, back to her. He grinned. “What was it?”

Allie waved a hand. “Nothing really. Um, funny only to…”

“A mathematician?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, and turned her head to look out the passenger-side window.

Fortunately he didn’t pursue the matter, but popped a CD into the player, instead. Allie leaned her head back, closed her eyes again and let the mellow cadences of a female jazz singer make the time pass just a little more quickly.

The deceleration of the car jolted her awake. Her eyes blinked open and for an instant she forgot where she was. Her neck swiveled along the edge of the headrest, first to the window, then to her left. Joel was peering through the windshield looking for a parking space in a service center, but cast a quick glance her way and smiled.

“Have a good sleep?”

“Mmm. Where are we?”

“About halfway there. I need to gas up the car and thought we’d get some lunch. I’m not sure what kind of eating places are ahead of us, but this was familiar.”

Allie stared at the sign of a fast-food chain and sighed. There goes half a day’s training, she thought.

However, the menu board inside indicated salads and vegetarian options, so she was able to order something that wouldn’t cause too much damage.

“Training lunch?” Joel asked, digging into his man-size cheeseburger and fries.

“Sort of, but I’m not into fast food, anyway.”

“Good for you. As for me, I eat whatever’s handy when I’m hungry.”

“Well, it doesn’t seem to have done you any harm.”

He swallowed a mouthful of Coke and said, “I noticed you had more than an edge on me the other day.”

She frowned.

“The park?” he said. “The photograph?”

“Ohh. You weren’t that far behind me.”

His turn to smile. “You’re being kind. By the way, you bring the photo?”

Allie toyed with her salad. “I forgot it.”

“Seriously?”

She nodded.

He lowered the remains of his burger and stared at her for an uncomfortable moment. Then he said, “Shouldn’t make a difference.”

“Why the concern, then?”

“I just thought Spiro would be interested in seeing it. Because he owns the identical one I showed you,” he added.

Not quite identical, she mused, considering my mother was removed from my copy. Which was why Allie had purposely left it behind, even though he’d suggested bringing it. She didn’t want Spiro Kostakis to see what her father had done.

“Speaking of my grandfather, you said you’d tell me more about him.”

“I only know what I managed to pick up from some of my contacts in the business.”

“The business?”

“Uh, the investigation business.”

“Oh. Do you always investigate your clients?”

“I like to know something about them. You know, such as, am I going to get paid? Is the check going to bounce? That sort of thing.”

“Does it happen often?”

“Often enough. Anyway, Spiro and his older brother, Niko, came to America from Greece in 1947, just after the war. They did the usual new immigrant thing at first, taking whatever jobs they could get. They saved some money and sent for their Greek fiancées to join them in Detroit. Eventually they got into the restaurant business, were very successful and opened another location. Niko took over the food part of the Kostakis empire after Spiro got into importing and exporting. By then, they’d both married and had children. Sometime in the late fifties, Spiro moved into his mansion in Grosse Pointe Farms.”

“Grosse Pointe Farms?”

“Don’t be fooled by the word farms. It’s a very affluent area of Grosse Pointe. Anyway, a few years after that, Niko had a fatal heart attack, so his widow and son, Tony, moved in with Spiro and his wife.”

“What about Niko’s share of the business?”

“Good question. For some unknown reason, Spiro was Niko’s beneficiary, with allowances going to his spouse and children.”

“That’s unusual. It must have caused some family friction.”

He nodded. “The brothers probably did that as some kind of insurance when they got here. No other family and only each other to rely on.”

“You’d think Niko would have changed his will after his son was born.”

“I guess he never got around to it. Anyway, when Tony was in his late twenties, he married and had two boys—your cousins—George and Christo. By then, he was working his way up in the business.”

“What happened to him?”

“Rumor has it he and Spiro had a major falling-out one night over money. Tony disappeared and was never seen again.” Joel dabbed at his mouth with his napkin, checked the time and said, “I’ll finish on the way. I promised Spiro we’d be there before dinner.”

Allie followed him silently to the car. The story was unfolding like a soap opera, and she had a suspicion it was going to get even more incredible. At the same time, she was fascinated. Until she remembered that she herself was about to be drawn into it.

He remained silent for the first few miles. She decided to prompt him. “So, are you implying that Spiro had something to do with his nephew’s disappearance?”

Joel turned his head slightly to look at her. “That’s not what I was implying.”

“Is seems pretty obvious, doesn’t it?”

He turned back to the windshield. “Not necessarily. Apparently Tony had racked up a huge gambling debt. He also had more than a few unsavory friends. It may have been one big coincidence.”

“I don’t know if I believe in coincidences.”

“You gotta be kidding! After saving that old man and his dog? Wouldn’t you call that a helluva big coincidence—that a topnotch athlete and a strong swimmer, the only person who could have saved their lives, happened to be around?”

“Well, yes, I suppose that was a stroke of good luck for poor Harry and Jeb.”

“Or a great coincidence.”

“You made your point,” she murmured, and peered out the window.

“Speaking of the guy, have you seen him since?”

Allie smiled, thinking of the friendship that had grown between the three of them. “Yes, actually, I have. Harry and Jeb live in a retirement complex near the very river where they fell in. I had dinner with them twice last month. He’s a darling and so is his dog.”

“I figured something like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t seem the type to walk away from things. It makes sense that you’d go on to forge a friendship with the man whose life you’d saved.”

She was surprised at the pleasure his comment gave her. Then she realized he’d very skillfully digressed from his story about her grandfather and the rest of the family. “What happened after Tony disappeared?”

His head swerved her way for an instant. “Not much. His family moved in with Spiro’s.”

“And Niko’s widow?”

“She left Michigan after the family gave up looking for Tony and now lives in a retirement colony in Florida.”

Allie frowned. “And…do I still have a grandmother?”

“Sorry, I should’ve mentioned that. Vangelia outlived your mother by one year. A heart attack, I believe.”

Allie thought for a long moment about people she’d never get to meet.

“So the family is pretty rich, huh?”

Joel snorted. “Rich! Baby, the guy’s loaded. This Cadillac? The low end of his fleet. Like I said, don’t be fooled by the word farms in Grosse Pointe Farms. The area used to have the summer retreats of the rich and famous. Now the places are permanent homes.” He shook his head. “Old Spiro is worth millions.”

“From the restaurant business?”

“Along with all the other companies he owns.” Then he added, “Ironic, though, that in spite of all his money, the one thing he needs most of all can’t be bought.”

“What’s that?”

His eyes met hers. “Your bone marrow,” he whispered. “His only hope of life.”

Allie turned away from his stare. She flashed back to that moment in the icy Catarqui when Harry Maguire’s frantic clutching pushed her under. That was what she was feeling all over again.

THEY CROSSED the border in midafternoon, and as the car rolled over the Ambassador Bridge into Detroit, Allie murmured, “This is the first time I’ve been out of Canada.”

“No kidding? You’ve led a sheltered life.”

“Not really. I just haven’t traveled much. Some people never even leave their hometowns.”

“I guess so. It’s just hard for me to imagine. Seems like I’ve been on the road my whole life.”

“Really? Where have you been?”

“I left home when I was seventeen to join the marines.”

“Seventeen!”

“Yeah, well, I left home out of self-preservation. My old man and I didn’t exactly hit it off.” He gave a harsh laugh.

Allie didn’t know what to say, so she kept quiet.

“After the marine stint,” he went on, “I worked my way through college. Majored in criminology and law.”

“Did you go on to being a private investigator from there?”

“Huh? Oh, well, kinda. I decided to go into law enforcement and spent a couple of years with the Philadelphia Police Department.”

“Why Philadelphia?”

“It’s my hometown,” he said. “My father had died and my mom needed looking after.”

“Is she…?”

“Yeah, she had a stroke and died about two years later.”

“Do you have brothers and sisters?”

“Yep, one of each. Both living in Philly, still in the same old neighborhood. A bit like the kind of people you were talking about. They’re content to stay put with their families.”

“Whereas you…”

“I cut my family ties when I was seventeen. Once you’ve done that, you’re really only a visitor afterward.”

The terse reply didn’t encourage further conversation, so Allie sat silently, looking out the window as they headed east, away from the city and toward the suburbs. She didn’t speak again until the car turned onto a paved road that ran along beside water.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Is that the Detroit River?”

“No. Lake St. Clair. Grosse Pointe borders the lake.”

“So we’re getting close?”

“Not far now. Nervous?”

“Of course. Shouldn’t I be?”

“Perhaps.”

Something in the way he said that single word alarmed her. There was warning in it, she thought. He’d turned his head her way, but his sunglasses foiled any attempt to read his expression. Too late to go back now, she thought. She decided to make light of it.

“When I was a kid and I was nervous about something—no matter what it was—my father used to say that I could always change my mind.”

He nodded, his expression blank. “Good advice to remember,” he said, and turned the car into a tree-lined drive fronted by brick columns supporting a massive wrought-iron gate. The gate was open and the Cadillac passed through.

Allie felt her heart rate pick up. All she could see so far was a stretch of trimmed lawn and groves of trees that stretched farther than the acreage around the farm back home. Rounding a bend in the drive, she suddenly saw the lake again. And then the house.

She must have gasped, for Joel simply said, “Tudor Revival, they call it. Built in the early thirties for some auto magnate. Six-car garage with Spiro’s specialty cars over there, at the end of the west wing.” His arm stretched across her face to point. “Tennis court just behind a guest house—you can see it now—and the outdoor swimming pool is next to it.”

“You mean there’s an indoor pool?”

“Yup. It’s smaller and occupies most of a separate wing.”

Huge landscaped gardens that Allie knew Susan would love edged the section of drive that wound its way to the entrance of the house. As the Cadillac coasted to a halt in front of granite steps, double French doors at the top terrace swung open and a handful of people spilled out.

They organized themselves on the steps as if choreographed. As Joel parked the car and switched off the engine, Allie moistened dry lips and glanced at him.

“All set?” he asked.

She nodded.

“You’ll be fine. And remember, you’re here to give them something. Not to justify whatever happened twenty-seven years ago.”

She was grateful to him for that and, taking a deep breath, opened the car door. When she stepped out onto the paved drive, the group of people parted as if by silent command, giving way for a tall, thin, gray-haired man grasping a cane and walking slowly through them. Allie was thinking that particular moment was more frightening than diving into the Cataraqui after Harry Maguire. Still, pasting a smile on her face, she plunged forward.

The elderly man descended slowly to the first layer of steps. “Koritsiemou, Allie. My darling granddaughter.”

Up close, she could see the ravages of his illness. His skin was waxen and taut against prominent facial bones, but his eyes were bright and alert, as yet undiminished by illness. His raspy greeting activated the others and they clustered around Allie. There was a hubbub of talk and some nervous laughter, mainly from Allie, she realized afterward.

Spiro introduced the others. First, Allie was presented to a slight woman in her fifties with a blend of black and silver hair, who was wearing a simple but expensive-looking black dress.

“Ephtimea—Effie—is the wife of my late nephew, Anthony, and the mother of my two great-nephews, George and Christo.”

The woman stepped forward and shyly kissed Allie on both cheeks. “Welcome, my dear.”

“That’s George—” Spiro gestured to the man at Effie’s left, “—my nephew, Effie’s eldest son.”

A large-framed man with the darkest eyes Allie had ever seen nodded, but didn’t smile.

“And his fiancée, Lynn,” Spiro continued.

The curvaceous blonde that Allie had caught a glimpse of as she’d walked up the steps strode into the center of the group and held out her hand. “Nice to meetcha,” she said before backing up and taking a long draw on the cigarette she held in her other hand.

Allie saw Spiro frown, his upper lip curling in a grimace that everybody noticed except for Lynn, who was brushing something off the tight bosom of her lime-green sheath dress. Allie sneaked a peek at Spiro again. His downturned mouth tightened.

He turned to Allie and seemed to force a smile as he said, “Christo, Effie’s youngest,” and the shorter, handsomer man standing off to one side leaped forward. His grin implied that he, too, had enjoyed the little scene. He grasped Allie firmly by both shoulders, planting a solid kiss first on one cheek, then on the other.

She wondered for a moment if he was going to release her, but eventually he stood back and said, “Wonderful to meet you at last, cuz. We’ve been breathless with excitement, haven’t we, George?” He cocked his head to George who’d been staring intently at Lynn. Christo burst into laughter. “George! You poor lovesick puppy.”

George smiled weakly at Allie, though he managed to give his brother a playful punch in the shoulder.

Spiro shook his head. “Boys, boys.” He made a mock clucking sound but obviously enjoyed their antics. “Allie needs more time before she has to face the family in its true light,” he said.

Christo laughed again. “Sure, Uncle Spiro, but I’m still waiting for that day myself.”

Spiro wasn’t amused this time. Allie noted the subtle way his chin pulled downward and his gray eyes flashed. Still, he made no response and turned, instead, to introduce the other three people waiting dutifully in the background.

“Yolanda, my nurse,” Spiro said, gesturing to a stout woman in a lavender uniform. She beamed warmly at Allie, and Allie responded in kind. Then he gestured for a thin, gray-haired woman in black to move forward.

“This is Maria, who has managed my home for many years. The household can’t function without her, and whatever you need or want while you are here, speak to Maria.”

The older woman nodded solemnly, fixing her small, birdlike eyes on Allie, and extended a hand. No kiss on both cheeks here. She might have known my mother, Allie thought, unnerved by the woman’s stare.

Spiro gestured last to a burly man in a navy-blue uniform standing on a lower step between the terrace and the drive. “Marko, my driver.” The man merely tipped his head at Allie, not bothering to make eye contact.

“Shall we go inside?” Spiro asked, his voice sounding weary. “We’ll have drinks on the back terrace in half an hour. Maria will show you to your room, Allie.” He ushered Allie toward the door, his palm resting lightly at the small of her back. In the doorway, she suddenly wheeled around to see if Joel was coming, too.

He was still leaning against the side of the Cadillac, arms folded across his chest. She hadn’t anticipated his parting, though realized his job for Spiro Kostakis was likely completed. Still, she couldn’t simply wave goodbye without talking to him one last time, could she? She hesitated, aware that the others were waiting for her to enter.

Joel’s voice rang out. “Mr. Kostakis, may I have a word with you before I leave?”

Spiro frowned. “Come to my study,” he finally said, and with Yolanda’s assistance, shuffled through the open door. The others filed inside, taking Allie with them. She cast another look at Joel before she was herded into the cool, dark interior of the Kostakis mansion.

LIKE BAIT TO SHARKS, Joel thought, watching Allie being swarmed by the Kostakis clan and urged inside. When she’d turned around from the threshold to look at him, something in her face caught at him, and that was when he knew his part in this family drama mustn’t end. Impulsively he’d called out to Spiro. When he saw the relief wash across her face, he knew his instincts were right.

As everyone moved into the house, his brain went into overdrive, searching for some convincing reason to stay. Then he, too, headed up the granite staircase, ignoring a smirking Marko, and went inside. The foyer gleamed with polished hardwood, mahogany and oak trim and sparkling crystal. Joel had seen layouts of the house once in a trendy home-design magazine; the real thing was even more spectacular.

He’d been interviewed for the job by George at the Kostakis skyscraper in downtown Detroit, but had seen maps of the family compound. Hence his brief tour-guide recitation to Allie on the way in. Huge vases containing ornate flower arrangements were artfully placed throughout the foyer. A winding staircase swept up from the center of the hall, and Joel had a glimpse of a black skirt disappearing off the landing above. Maria, he wondered, or Effie?