CHAPTER 54
CHAPTER
AFTER NASH LEFT, TEMPLE WENT upstairs to go to his bedroom, bypassing where Mindy and their daughter were now staying on another floor in a two-bedroom suite.
As he got to his bedroom door his sister Angie opened hers. “I saw that man.”
He turned and looked at her. “What man, Ang?”
“That man who used to live here. That man with all these.” She jerkily moved her hands over her head and body.
“Oh, right, the tattoos. Yeah, Dillon Hope.”
“I saw him.”
“Yeah, I’m sure, he was here for dinner.”
Angie shook her head vigorously. “No, no, I mean, before.”
Temple glanced over at the door of the bedroom Dillon Hope stayed in when he had worked as his bodyguard.
“Well, he was staying in that bedroom, across the hall from you.”
Angie shook her head fiercely again. “No, no!”
“Whoa, don’t get upset. Deep breaths. What are you trying to say?”
“Not that door.”
“What then?” said Temple, looking both confused and impatient.
“Not that door!”
“Okay, Ang, whatever you say. Look, I’m tired and you need to go night-night.”
“Not that door,” Angie persisted.
He said wearily, “Fine, what door? You mean downstairs?”
She marched across the hall and tapped the door next to her brother’s bedroom. “This door!”
Now Temple didn’t look impatient, but he still looked confused. “This door? You saw him come out of this door?”
Angie nodded vigorously.
His interest now piqued, Temple said, “When, Ang? Can you remember?”
Speaking fast and firmly she replied, “When that lady was here. With the white hair.”
Lynn Ryder, thought Temple. “Okay, what else did you see?”
“She came out of your room and walked down the hall, and that man came out of this room and I asked him in for tea. And he had some and a cookie. But then he told me to go night-night.”
Temple gaped. “Wait, hold on. He told you to go night-night?”
Angie vigorously nodded her head up and down. “Night-night, and so I did. Then he was gone. But I didn’t go night-night.” She smiled and then giggled. “I just pretended.” She gave him a sly look. “I do it sometimes with you, too.”
“Okay, so you didn’t go night-night. Did you hear or see anything else?”
“I saw that man out my window.”
“You mean he was outside?”
She nodded.
“What was he doing?”
“He opened the gate and then he pushed his car out it.”
“He pushed his car? You mean he didn’t start it?”
She thrust her arms out. “Push. Push! Then, I heard the car go vroom-vroom.”
Temple took this all in and said, “Okay, Ang. Now this time, really go night-night, okay? I’ve got stuff to do.”
“But Et—”
He exploded, “Jesus, go NIGHT-NIGHT for fuck’s sake.”
Her face crumpled at his harsh words and tone.
Temple saw this and his anger faded. He walked over to her. “I’m sorry, Ang, okay? I’m sorry. I’m just. . .I have a lot going on. I didn’t mean to say that, okay? I will always take care of you, okay? I’m. . .I’m not Dad. I. . .I love you, Angie.”
And then Angie did something she never had before. She wrapped her arms around her brother and hugged him. And he hugged her back, his tears leaching into her gray hair.
“Uv you too, Et.”
And then Angie went into her room and closed the door.
Temple stood there breathing hard and trying to get his emotions under control.
He finally managed that, and then he crossed the hall, opened the door to the room next to his, and studied the wall that both spaces shared.
He closed the door and pulled out his phone and called one of the private detectives he’d used in trying to track down Nash.
Into the phone he said, “Look, it suddenly occurred to me that I didn’t ask a basic question about all this. Namely, that place operated by this Isaiah York guy? What exactly does he use it for?”
Temple listened intently for a couple of minutes.
“Okay, it would have been good if you had briefed me on that without my having to ask, but better late than never. And just to show my displeasure for your total incompetence, I’m not paying your last bill. No, I’m not fucking kidding. Sue me, asshole.”
Temple clicked off.
Talk about hiding in plain sight. But I’ve got to be sure.
He had a sudden thought and raced down the stairs. In the dining room one of his staff was starting to clear off the table.
“Don’t touch that glass! Get me a dishcloth and a big plastic baggie,” he ordered the young woman. “Now!”
She raced off and shortly returned with both.
Temple used the cloth to lift up the glass that Nash had drunk from. He put it in the plastic baggie, sealed it, and walked back to his bedroom.
Along the way he smiled and said, “Okay, Dillon Hope or whoever the fuck you really are, your ass is mine.”