Round Robin (30 page)

“Come on in,” she said. “I gotta put Gracie here to bed.”

Manfred sat with Jeri Whitman in a small front room furnished with tattered odds and ends that wouldn’t have made the grade at a Salvation Army store.

“Robin Phinney. Dear God, I can’t tell you how hard I’ve tried to forget her. In fact, I haven’t thought about her the past few years, not with all the hell I’ve had in my life. Now you waltz in out of the blue and smack me right between the eyes with her name.”

She looked pointedly at Manfred’s hands.

“No ring, so I guess you’re not her husband. That make you a boyfriend?”

“Just someone who is trying to help her.”

“Yeah,” Jeri smiled thinly, “and why would you want to do that?”

“She gave me a place to stay when I needed one.”

“And you’re grateful? A grateful man? Jesus, mister, you oughta be front-page news.”

Manfred had seen that the baby’s crib was in a small cramped room with two other children’s beds. Posters and toys that lay scattered about suggested that the children were of school age, and would probably be home soon. He’d seen no sign that there was a man living in the house. This woman was undoubtedly the sole support of her children.

He didn’t want to bring any distress to the children when they returned. He wanted to be gone by then.

“I would like to help you,” Manfred said. “I don’t have much cash with me, but I could write you a check.”

He took out his checkbook and the woman laughed.

“Sure,” she said, “a check. Just sign it and leave it blank, huh?”

“I will make it out for two hundred dollars.” Equity with the woman’s mother. “It is a perfectly good check.”

Manfred made out the check, tore it out of the book and handed it to Jeri Whitman. She looked at it and then at him.

“What do you want? You don’t want to just hear about Robin and me and old times.”

“I want to find Phil Leeds.”

She laughed harshly.

“That’s easy. Just look for the biggest pile of shit drawing the most flies.”

Manfred remained stoically silent.

“You know what he did, that bastard? After what he did to Robin and me, he knocked me up again, then left me for an
older
woman. The sonofabitch. You want to kill him?”

Manfred shook his head.

“Just find him.”

Jeri took another look at the check and then told Manfred everything she knew about Phil Leeds. He’d been married two more times locally after he left her. But she’d heard he’d been out to California and down to New Orleans over the years, too. So he’d undoubtedly left more damn-fool women in his wake, ones she didn’t even know about. But he seemed to come back home on a regular basis, no matter where he’d been. Not that he’d ever stopped in to see how she was doing or if their kids were all right.

“How do you know he comes back then?”

For a fleeting moment, Jeri Whitman almost seemed ashamed. Then a look of defiance formed on her worn face.

“We like to drink in the same places.”

The statement was no sooner out of her mouth than the light of fear entered her eyes.

“Don’t you worry, though. This check, I’m spending it on the kids. You don’t have to worry about that and stop payment or anything. You know what else? I think I got that prick’s Social Security number around here somewhere. That’d help you find him, wouldn’t it?”

Without waiting for an answer, she disappeared into the back of the house. When she returned, Manfred’s check was no longer in her hands. She’d made sure he wasn’t going to take it back from her without a fight. But true to her word she’d returned with a decrepit Social Security card. She handed it to Manfred.

“Why I kept that I’ll never know, but it’s your lucky day, huh? If the bastard’s still alive and able to hold down a job.”

Her attempt at being ingratiating was more than Manfred could take. He politely inquired where she liked to drink, in the event Leeds was in town, and then thanked her for her help and headed for the door.

“Hey,” Jerri said, stopping him.

“Yes?”

“You see Robin, you tell her from me that I ... I ... I probably deserve everything that’s happened to me. I’m sorry, too ... and I really will spend that money you gave me on the kids. Most of it, anyway.”

“Good.”

“And I hope you find Phil, whatever it is you want to do to him, but that creep’s so slippery you know who you’d really need to catch him?”

“Who?”

“The friggin’ CIA.”

Manfred smiled — and gave her his trademark bow.

Jeri Whitman had her two school-age kids home when she saw another fancy car pull up into her front yard. First it was that big old boy in his nice old Benz. This time it was a little prissy-looking dude in some megabuck rice-burner. A Lexus or Acura, one of those.

Jeri sent her two kids into the kitchen with instructions to the older girl to make a snack and take care of the baby if she woke up; otherwise stay put and be quiet. Her kids knew better than to cross Mama when she got that hard look in her eyes. Luckily, the mutt was off chasing squirrels or something and didn’t scare the visitor away.

She met the prissy dude at the door before he had a chance to knock.

“You here about Robin?” she asked straight out.

Aubrey Tannis nodded neutrally.

“Come in then.”

This one didn’t care a fig about Phil Leeds. Not directly anyway. He wanted to know about what had happened to Robin. And since she got him to pay her five hundred dollars — cash in advance — she told him.

Jeri knew this was yet another betrayal of her one-time best friend, but she needed the money. And once you were damned anyway, what else did you have to worry about?

Chapter 28

Manfred called Warner Lisle from Dan Phinney’s house, where Robin’s parents had been watching Bianca for him. The former intelligence agent, now living in Venice, California, took Phil Leed’s Social Security number from Manfred. Then he told him this would really be the last favor he’d be able to do for him. He was phasing out his own contacts with the Company and getting on with his new career as a special effects designer and consultant.

Manfred assured Warner that he would bother him no more, just help him find this one man. Warner sighed and said he’d do what he could.

They both knew if the guy was upright and drawing breath Warner would nail him.

Dan Phinney was taking a nap when Manfred had arrived and so the big man thanked Patty for taking care of Bianca and asked her to thank Dan also when he woke up.

When Manfred and Bianca got into their car to go home, she stared fixedly at him.

“Yes?” he asked mildly as he pulled into traffic.

“I am looking at you.”

“I noticed. Have you found what you are looking for?”

“I want to see if I look like you or if ... if I look like Mama.”

Manfred stopped for a red light and looked back at his daughter, giving her his full face to examine. The light turned green and she had to make do with his right profile again.

“More of your mother,” Manfred said. “Fortunately for you.”

“I have your nose.”

“Well, give it back.”

He spared a glance to see how his joke had been received. Bianca rolled her eyes, and then looked down. Manfred directed his gaze at the road ahead.

“What?”

“I miss Mama. I want her back.”

Even after she sold you to a pervert, Manfred thought with an inward sigh. He reached out and found his daughter’s hand, engulfed it with his own and held on gently.

“Your mother was never a happy person. Sometimes there were moments when she thought she was, but they never lasted.”

“Why wasn’t Mama happy? She was beautiful.”

Manfred furrowed his brow and tried to think of a way to explain. Ulrike was a subject to which he had given much thought during his years of confinement. He’d come to his own conclusions about her, but he hadn’t considered how to convey them to Bianca.

He thought a moment longer and then released her hand and held up his thumb and index finger an inch apart.

“Your mother thought she was this close to being beautiful. She thought she was this close to being a great athlete. At times, she thought she was this close to being rich and important. But no matter what she did, or how hard she tried, or what successes she had, her goals always seemed to be this far away. Do you know why she felt that way?”

“No.”

Manfred took Bianca’s hand again.

“Because she was right. The things we tell ourselves we want never look quite the way we expect when we finally get them.” Manfred pulled over to the side of the street and parked. He turned to face his daughter. “When you were little, growing up with your mother while I was in prison, did you ever wish you had a father?”

“I thought the Bear was my father.”

Manfred nodded, sadly.

“But when I learned he wasn’t, I wished I had one.”

Relieved, Manfred again held up his thumb and finger an inch apart.

“Am I this close to looking like what you wanted your father to be?”

Bianca shook her head. She held her hands out at arms’ length.

Then she smiled, and Manfred smiled back.

“I’m not so bad, am I?”

Bianca shook her head.

“Maybe you’ve even come to love me, just a little?”

Bianca nodded.

“Liebchin,
this is what we all must learn. Take happiness where you find it, not where you expect it to be.” He held up his thumb and forefinger once more. “That is why your mother could never get closer than this.”

Bianca’s face gathered around a thoughtful expression.

“Have you found happiness with... ” Bianca almost said
Der Hexe
just to be mean, but her father’s face was so kind and gentle she couldn’t do it. “Have you found happiness with Robin?”

Manfred nodded.

“Do you think she is happy with you, too?”

“I hope so.”

“She is not my mama.”

“No.”

“It is hard for me,
Vati.”

Manfred nodded. “I will tell you something else.”

“What?”

“We are strong, you and me. There is nothing we can’t face.”

“Really? Nothing?”

“Nothing at all,” Manfred said.

“I want you out,” Robin said.

She’d been waiting at the door to Manfred and Bianca’s apartment when they returned. Her mouth was compressed to a surgical incision and her eyes were chips of indigo ice.

“Bitte,”
Manfred said, not wanting to believe his ears.

“She said she wants us out,” Bianca supplied.

Robin flicked a glance at the kid before returning her attention to Manfred.

“You’ve been prying into my personal life. That’s intolerable. You’ve involved my family, which is unforgivable. You can stay the night, but I want both of you out in the morning.”

Bianca looked up at the adults, expecting her father to laugh off the demand. After all, he’d just told her how strong they were. They could face anything. Surely, this would be no problem ... but Bianca saw the pain in her father’s eyes. It was not weakness, she didn’t know just what the word was, but she could tell he was going to give in if she didn’t do something soon. He was going to let this woman send them away.

She knew this would hurt her father to his heart.

So Bianca plucked the house-keys Manfred held loosely in his hand and turned a defiant face up to Robin.

“We are not leaving!” Bianca said, and stamped her foot for emphasis.

With that she opened the door to her apartment and went inside.

This was the last thing Robin had expected. From what Nancy had told her, she’d thought the kid would be jumping for joy. Okay, so she didn’t know exactly what was going on here, but that didn’t change her intentions. Not in the slightest.

“You are leaving,” Robin said. “In the morning.”

Manfred nodded.

“I will have Bianca ready. We will be out first thing.”

“The hell you will!”

Neither of them had heard Nancy arrive. Not having told Robin about Phil Leeds earlier had hung like a cobweb on Nancy’s frontal lobe. She’d never know peace until it was swept away. So she’d come back to tell Robin whether she wanted to hear it or not. And instead she’d found these two huge idiots about to ruin their best chance for happiness.

Well, Nancy Cassidy would not have it!

“Stay out of this Nancy,” Robin said grimly. “It’s none of your business.”

“We are not going to discuss the matter in your hallway,” Nancy replied.

“We’re not going to discuss it at all. The matter is settled.”

The two sisters glared at each other. Neither blinked.

Manfred didn’t know whether to say something or withdraw like a mouse while the two cats faced off. But he found himself unable to retreat; it simply wasn’t in his nature. Even so, he kept his mouth shut.

Nancy finally broke the silence, speaking in a whisper filigreed with iron.

“Robin, you’re going to invite Manfred and me up to your apartment. You’re going to listen to what I have to say to you. You’re going to do this ... or I am going to knock your block off.”

Robin smirked at her older, smaller sister.

“You and who else?”

She turned quickly to Manfred.

“You stay out of this.”

Manfred held his hands up. He was a neutral observer.

“I don’t need any help,” Nancy said, drawing Robin’s attention. “You remember the last time we got into it?”

Robin’s cockiness dissolved faster than spring snow as the childhood memory came back to her in a rush. She’d been twelve and Nancy fifteen when Robin had gone uninvited into Nancy’s room and helped herself to her sister’s makeup and perfume. When Nancy had instructed her not do it again without permission, Robin had boldly proclaimed that since Mom and Dad had paid for all of Nancy’s stuff she had as much right to it as Nancy. Robin still couldn’t recall how she’d wound up on the floor with Nancy sitting atop her — especially since their size difference then had been almost as great as it was now — but she could clearly remember how much it hurt when Nancy’s hard little fists started tattooing her head like it was like a speed bag.

Robin didn’t think Nancy could still do that — but she wasn’t about to take the chance. Not with Manfred watching. She’d die of embarrassment, if not physical punishment.

And it’d be that much harder tossing Manfred out if he had to pull Nancy off her.

Robin ground her teeth and led them upstairs to her apartment.

“Sit,” Nancy said.

Like a pair of slow-to-heel hounds, Robin and Manfred circled each other and found their respective seats, Robin taking an easy chair, Manfred occupying most of a love seat.

Nancy stood between them with her hands on her hips and zero tolerance for any more of this foolishness.

She started with her sister.

“Robin, you’ve been beating yourself up for twenty years. That’s long enough.”

“It’s my business,” Robin said through clenched teeth, “nobody else’s.”

Nancy shook her head.

“That’s where you’re wrong. What you did affected everybody in our family. It hurt you the most, but it basically cost Mom and Dad their marriage for the last two decades, and it’s meant I have had to see my parents one at a time for the same twenty years. My kids have had to pick which grandparent they want to see any given holiday, too. So don’t you dare tell me it’s nobody’s business but yours.”

Manfred squirmed as he witnessed this barrage of dirty laundry being aired.

Nancy wasn’t about to cut him any slack either.

“Sit still. You were the one who had the bright idea of bringing everything out in the open, and you were right. So don’t act like you’ve got ants in your pants all of a sudden.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t feel like it’s his place to hear all our family problems. Maybe he’s thought better about what he started,” Robin said.

Nancy gave the notion a moment’s honest consideration. She looked at Manfred.

“Is that right? You’re having second thoughts, and I’m standing here making a jackass out of myself for no reason? A little embarrassment is enough to scare you away?”

The gauntlet had been flung.

Manfred drew himself up. He squared his massive shoulders and expanded his enormous chest. The great mason-block that was his head moved a millimeter to either side of the centerline of his flinty stare. He was not going anywhere. He was Gibraltar.

“Okay, then,” Nancy said “That’s one thing settled.”

“Nothing is settled,” Robin objected. “This is my life and you can’t stage-manage it.”

Nancy looked back at her sister.

“You think you’re the only one who’s ever done something stupid, who’s ever had to endure a tragedy?”

“Tell me what you’ve endured,” Robin said.

“Okay,” Nancy replied, “okay, I will. This is something I should have told you a long time ago.”

She sat down next to Manfred, annoying Robin that she could fit so neatly in such a small space. Nancy looked directly at her sister.