Final Curtain (Danielle Ross Mystery Book #2)

Gilbert Morris

Description

Dani Ross is hired to protect a wealthy and ruthless businessman from a potential assassin. But when so many people want you dead, it's hard to uncover the truth amid the tangled web of secrets.

Informations

• Publié par: Baker Publishing Group
• Date de parution: 01 septembre 1991
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781441239891
• Langue: English

Extrait

The perilous adventures of Danielle Ross, private eye, continue in THE FINAL CURTAIN .

Behind the footlights of the Pearl Theater lurks an ominous presence: the Phantom of the Theater. Is this cunning murderer one of the cast or crew of Jonathan Ainsley’s new play, Into the Night? Could it be . . .
Ringo Jordan — the play’s “heavy,” a brooding former linebacker? Carmen Rio — the hot-blooded makeup artist, jilted by Jonathan for a young starlet? Sir Adrian Lockeridge — the aging, alcoholic veteran actor? Simon Nero — the director, whose wife had been mysteriously murdered only months before?

As Dani and Ben attempt to solve the mystery, you’ll be part of a captive audience anxiously awaiting The Final Curtain .

© 1991 by Gilbert Morris
Published by Revell a division of Baker Publishing Group P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287 www.revellbooks.com

Ebook edition created 2013

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

ISBN 978-1-4412-3989-1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

Scripture quotations in this volume are from the King James Version of the Bible.
TO Kay:

We’ve come a long way, and we’ve got a way to go—so let’s stick together and make it count, Sis.
Contents

Cover
Preview of Next Book
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication

1. A New Client
2. “Just One, Big, Happy Family!”
3. The Phantom Strikes!
4. Too Many Suspects
5. Opening Night at the Pearl
6. All the King’s Horses
7. The New Man
8. A Norman Rockwell World
9. A Slight Case of Burglary
10. Midnight Encounter
11. Nero Checks Out
12. Lily’s Scene
13. Welcome to the Kingdom
14. Sir Adrian’s Finest Performance
15. The Last Toast
16. A Leap of Faith
17. The Bait
18. The Guilty
19. Bayou Fugitive

Books by Gilbert Morris
Back Cover
1
A New Client

F or the one-hundredth time Dani moved out of her new office, to stand on the small balcony framed with wrought iron. Staring down at the passing parade of traffic on Bourbon Street, she wondered if she had done the right thing in moving Ross Investigative Agency to new quarters. She had loved the busy activity of the area and knew that she had signed the lease mostly because of the small balcony, where she could take in the scene below—the rough, irregular bricks that made up the narrow street, the black, ornate ironwork framing the balconies that had become the symbol of the French Quarter in New Orleans, and the row of shops and restaurants below, designed to snare the crowds that packed the street during Mardi Gras.
February was even milder than usual in New Orleans; the humid air rose from the cobblestones, bearing the odor of fresh boudin from the cafe below. Suddenly a man’s voice, larded with French Cajun flavor, floated up, “Hi, Dani! Let’s me an’ you go pass a good time!” She looked down with a sudden smile at the tall man who stood staring up at her, and shook her head. “Aw, it’s only three or two hours till time to quit. Come on, Cher!”
“Got to make a living, René,” she called out. “Besides, Lucy would kill us both if she caught us together.”
René LeBlanc, who played fiddle in a Cajun band, made a sour face, raised his hands in a Gallic fashion. “You got dat right, Cher! Me, I see you sometimes.”
Dani watched as he swung down the street. A cloud crossed her face, and she turned from the window, to consider the new office. It was a narrow room, with the large, mullioned window in the center of the long wall. Pale afternoon sunlight filtered through, giving the dark, polished wood of her antique desk a glow. A walnut chair, newly re-covered in mauve leather, sat behind it, with its mate squatting squarely in front of the desk. Angie Park, her secretary, had argued for more chairs, but Dani had said, “People want privacy when they hire a detective, Angie. Three’s a crowd.” She had finally compromised by adding two antique oak chairs, directly under the single painting on the wall.
That painting showed her great-great-grandfather, Daniel Monroe Ross, dressed in his Confederate colonel’s uniform; his piercing eyes stared at her. He had led his company in Pickett’s Charge, at Gettysburg, been wounded three times at Chancellorsville, and had refused to surrender his men and his flag at Appomattox, choosing rather to flee to Mexico. The flag was her father’s most cherished possession, and more than once he had said, “Dani, I think some of the colonel’s stubbornness filtered down to you!”
Staring at her ancestor, Danielle Ross felt a sudden touch of fear race along her nerves. Since her father’s heart attack, she had tried to run the agency, and it had been her decision to move to Bourbon Street and to spend a considerable amount of money on redecorating and a new advertising campaign. They had been in the new offices for a month. As she had put it secretly to her right-hand man, Ben Savage, “You might say we’ve been underwhelmed, Ben.”
She had smiled, but it had not been a very good smile, for despite her confident words, Dani had felt worried.
Now, looking up into the piercing eyes of the colonel, she shook her head, saying wistfully, “I’ll bet you wouldn’t be worried, would you, Colonel?”
Suddenly Angie’s voice spoke from the intercom: “Miss Ross, there’s a Mr. Stone to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment, but I thought you might give him a few minutes.”
“I think that will be possible,” Dani responded quickly. “Give me one moment.” Turning to her desk, she quickly pulled some papers from the side drawer and scattered them over the top. Pulling a pen from the marble and gold holder, she chose a fresh sheet of the new stationery and began writing. A smile pulled at the corners of her lips as she thought of what she was doing, for she had the ability to see her own foolishness. She wrote carefully on the pad in a neat script: Lord, let Mr. Stone become a paying client—and let him be very rich! She nodded, then added, For Thou knowest, Lord, that I am broke! Then she flipped the switch before her, briskly commanding, “Send Mr. Stone in, please.”
The man who came through the door was in his late sixties, Dani judged. He was tall and bent, wore a brown suit that was out of style, and held a narrow-brimmed plaid hat in his hand. His face was narrow and hidden behind a short salt-and-pepper beard. As he headed toward her, he gave Dani a penetrating glance from a pair of large, deep-set blue eyes.
“I’m Danielle Ross, Mr. Stone.” Dani rose and moved to offer him her hand. The hand that took hers was surprisingly firm and muscular for a man of his age. “Won’t you sit down?” she offered.
“I suppose so, but my business won’t take long,” Stone answered in a high, thin voice. “I won’t take much of your time.”
“Oh?” Dani said, not allowing her disappointment to show in her voice. She waited until he was seated, then sat down behind her desk. “What can I do for you?”
Stone regarded her carefully, and his lips grew thin. “Nothing. You’ve done enough for me already. But you won’t do any more for me and my family—or for anyone else, Miss Ross.”
Dani studied him, noting the fixed, almost rigid expression. “Have we met before, Mr. Stone?” she asked. “I’m afraid I don’t remember you.”
“We’ve never met—but I’m sure you recall a member of my family.” Stone’s lips suddenly turned up in a grim smile, and a thin, humorless laugh came from his throat. “Surely you can’t have forgotten my brother.”
An alarm went off suddenly in Dani’s head. After some hesitation, she commented, “I assume you’re Maxwell Stone’s brother.”
Again the thin laugh, then Stone prompted her, “So you have done something for my family, haven’t you, Miss Ross?”
If he’s as crazy as his brother, I’m in trouble! Dani thought. She studied the man, thinking that there was a resemblance. The memory of Maxwell Stone swept over her. Stone had been a very wealthy man who had lost his mind. He had formed a right-wing organization in the Ozark Mountains, a paramilitary organization complete with practically every weapon except tanks. Dani and Ben Savage had been lured into his mountain lair and had barely escaped with their lives. For months after that Dani had had nightmares over the terrible incident.
Maxwell Stone had been tried on charges of kidnapping and murder and been convicted of both. He had managed to commit suicide two weeks after beginning his term at a federal prison. As she stared at the man before her, Dani remembered how she had been forced to struggle with her hatred for his brother. Carefully she said, “Yes, I remember your brother. He was not himself, Mr. Stone, as I’m sure you know. No sane man could have done what he did.”
Stone nodded. “I know you must have liked it when Max killed himself.”
“No, I didn’t enjoy it.” Dani shook her head. “I was very grieved. He was pitiful.”
Stone hesitated, then went on, “I heard you were some sort of a minister. Well, that makes what I’ve come to do much easier.”
“What do you want, Mr. Stone? Why have you come here?”
“Why, I’ve come to kill you, Miss Ross.” Stone suddenly reached inside his coat and pulled out a gun. He aimed it directly at Dani. “It’s only fair, isn’t it? I mean, you killed my brother, Max, so now I’m going to kill you.” The thin laugh sounded again, and a note of hysteria rose in Stone’s voice. The gun wavered as if it were too heavy, and he taunted her, “But since you’re a Christian, you’re not afraid to die, are you?”
The sight of the blunt-nosed revolver aimed at her heart chilled Dani, but she gave no indication of fear. Her mind raced madly as bits of information registered. Even under the threat of death at the hands of a madman, she noted that the