High Tide Read online

“I have no idea, but I’m sure he was after her alone, not me. What I want to know is why. Any luck with the detectives?”

  “None. The trail is ice. They hadn’t even found out who her father was, but the police received a tip. Seems there are always tips from the same male voice.”

  “Yeah. He planted a bug under the table in the cabin, and I’m sure there was someone outside during the night. The pattern in the birdsong was different.”

  “Ace, you’re out of your element. This thing is big and it’s well planned. You’ve got to fight it with—”

  “I know: money, guns, and lawyers.”

  Mike’s voice was quiet and serious. “Lots of money, lots of lawyers. No guns.”

  Ace paused, took a breath to calm himself. Fiona looked as though she were sleeping. “Mike, who is Kimberly?”

  “Kimberly? Lord, Ace, where do you live? On this planet? No, I know, you live in the sky with those damned birds of yours. If you ever took the feathers out of your eyes, you’d know that Kimberly is a doll, a—”

  “A doll?” he said stupidly.

  “Yeah, a little, what do you call them? A fashion doll. My girls are mad for them, not to mention adult collectors.”

  “You mean it’s a doll like that other one? Bar—”

  “Don’t say that name. I mean it! The war between those two is very real. If you’re a Kimberly girl, you don’t buy Bar—” Michael broke off before he finished saying the name, and he sounded as though he were looking around to see if anyone was listening. “The other one,” he said, and his voice was so low Ace could barely hear him. “Your Miss Burkenhalter created Kimberly. That doll is a whole world. She’s got an occupation, and twice a year she’s reissued with new clothes, new friends, and a new task.” Mike’s voice dropped even lower. “And twice a year I have to spend new cash on the bloody things. I tell you, it’s one of the most brilliant schemes ever thought of to rook parents out of money. Every Christmas and birthday, Sam has to—”

  “All right, I get the picture.”

  “Okay,” Michael said in a normal voice. “Where do we meet you?”

  Ace took a deep breath. “You mean to take us to the police?”

  “Right. You can’t remain fugitives forever. This has to end.”

  Ace took a while to answer. “We can’t go in like this. Her hair is dirty and … and …”

  “Okay,” Mike said slowly, “I understand. Tell me where you are, and I’ll send a car. You can stay tonight at Frank’s place. And I’ll have Sam get things for … What’s her name?”

  “Don’t send a car. I’ll drive to Frank’s. Just have his private elevator waiting and the room ready. Fill it with flowers and fruit and chocolates. And when we arrive, send up a lavish spread of food and champagne. And her name is Fiona, as you well know since it’s being broadcast all over the world.”

  “Yeah, I know her name. I just wanted to hear you say it. You know, the photos of her remind me of someone.”

  “Ava Gardner, the fifties movie star. Fiona can make herself up to be a dead ringer for her. She’s even got a faint cleft in her chin.”

  “Does she?”

  “Don’t use that tone with me. I want you to have Sam get her some clothes. She’s been wearing men’s clothes, and she’s tired of them. Get something in silk. And shoes. Size seven. And get her some jewelry. Something tasteful. And real.”

  “She’ll have to relinquish it when you two go to the police,” Mike said softly.

  “Yeah, but photographers will be there, and …” Ace’s voice trailed off, as if the coming scene was too horrible for him to imagine.

  “Oh, by the way, Ace, Lisa flew in last night. She said you’d called her once, but she hadn’t heard from you in days, so she was coming apart with worry. She flew in on the same plane as Fiona’s fiancé.”

  “Boyfriend,” Ace snapped.

  “Oh. I see.”

  “No, you don’t see anything. I’ll call Lisa soon. It’s just that all this takes precedence.”

  “All this being Fiona, right?”

  “All this being that we—the two of us—are charged with murder.”

  “Ace, am I remembering correctly that you used to own a tape of some old movie starring Farley Granger and Ava—”

  “Shut up, Mike,” Ace said, then closed the telephone and cut him off.

  With a heavy heart, he walked back to the car. Fiona wasn’t sleeping as he thought, but just lying there, her eyes full of fear. When she saw him, she looked up. “I can’t take this anymore,” she said. “I want out.”

  “All right,” he said. “I’ll get you out.”

  But when he started to get back into the driver’s seat, she said, in a panic, “Don’t leave me,” so he half carried her as he put her into the passenger seat, and all the way to the hotel, she explained to Ace why she was giving up, why she thought they should stop running. Why they had to turn themselves in.

  Eleven

  Fiona couldn’t seem to think clearly. There seemed to be something that she should remember, but she didn’t know what it was. She was vaguely aware when Ace opened the car door and helped her out. She was sort of aware when he led her into an elevator and the doors closed.

  But when the elevator doors opened, she couldn’t really focus on the fact that they were in a marble-floored foyer and Ace was opening the door to a living room. Light flooded in on them, and she had the sense of bright, happy colors.

  As she stood there blinking, Ace moved away from her, then returned with a plate full of food. Holding it under her nose as he would to a wary animal, he moved the plate back and forth. And Fiona followed him. There was nothing like the smell of warm, delicious food to perk one up.

  When she was near the table, he picked up a fork and held a bite to her mouth. Out of habit, she opened her mouth.

  “Good, huh?” he said, then gave her another bite. It was chicken stuffed with crab and meltingly delicious.

  “Sit,” he said softly. “Eat, have something to drink.”

  Maybe it was that she was at last in her element, not in a shack that had bugs crawling in through the cracks, but she began to wake up, began to come out of her stupor caused by too much too fast. “Will you stop treating me like I’m crazy and hand me one of those?” she said, frowning.

  Ace grabbed the rolls she was pointing to and kissed her on the forehead.

  “And stop kissing me,” she said, her mouth full.

  “Right. Next time I’ll have to slap you to make you return to our world.”

  She ignored his sarcasm. “Is there a bathroom in this place?” she asked, looking around. “A real bathroom?”

  “Follow me,” he said, then led her through a sumptuous bedroom and into a bathroom of green-and-peach-colored marble. The sinks were shaped like shells and had gold faucets. On the counter was the unmistakable layout of toiletries of a fine hotel.

  Turning, Fiona looked at Ace, frowning. “Where are we and who’s paying for this place?”

  “Don’t worry about it. It belongs to someone I know, and it’s free.”

  “But—”

  “If you’d rather go back to—”

  “Sorry I asked. Could you give me a little privacy?”

  “Sure,” he said, “but don’t let the food get cold.”

  Five minutes later Fiona was trying to decide whether she wanted to shower first or soak in the huge tub. One glance in the mirror at her hair, matted with dirt and sweat, and she turned on the shower taps. The steam coming from the water made her close her eyes in happiness. It was amazing how one could miss the simplest things in life the most, she thought.

  “Aren’t you hungry?” Ace called through the door, his mouth full.

  “I’ll eat later,” she said as she tore the dirty clothes from her body; then when they dropped to the floor, she kicked them across the room in disgust. She never wanted the horrid things to touch her bare skin again.

  She got into the shower and lathered her hair three times, then p