Annie's Rainbow - Fern Michaels [131]
In the lobby, Annie whizzed by the front desk, then backed up. “Young man, I’m in room fifteen-oh-two. Do not put any calls through until further notice.” A second later she rounded the corner, credit card in hand. “I need a full-size car. I called earlier. The reservation is under Anna Clark.” Annie blinked in surprise when a set of keys slid across the counter. She did like advance check-in.
“Third car in the second row. Gas tank is full. Return it the same way. There’s a road map on the visor. Sign here.” Annie signed her name in two places and initialed it in three other places.
“You’re good to go, ma’am.”
Ma’am. Suddenly the one word made her feel as old as Elmo.
The moment the engine turned over in the silver gray Pontiac, Annie rolled down the windows. She inched her way out of the crowded lot, turned right on Arlington Street and then made a left onto Commonwealth Avenue and followed it all the way to University Road.
Boston University loomed ahead of her. She felt a pang of sweetness as she stared at the university. She drove around until she came to a sign that said, VISITOR PARKING. What was she doing here? Sooner or later, criminals always returned to the scene of their crimes. Obviously this was her sooner as well as her later. She couldn’t help but wonder who was watching her. She could feel unseen eyes boring into her back. Out in the open like this, she was a living, breathing, moving target. She couldn’t worry about that now. She had things to do. Somewhere in the vast campus library she was sure she could find what she was looking for. If not here, then the archives at the local newspaper. Maybe all she needed to do was ask someone where Andrew Pearson’s father lived. Notoriety made the local citizenry aware of people’s addresses. If that failed, there was always the green stuff called money.
Forty-five minutes later, Annie settled herself behind the wheel of the rental car. She was two hundred dollars poorer, but she had Clyde Pearson’s home address, his telephone number as well as directions to his Boston home. She also had the address and phone number of the boy who had been killed after the robbery, just in case she decided to pay the family a visit.
“Time to get this show on the road,” Annie mumbled as she shoved the key into the ignition. She looked down at the map on the seat next to her and then at the directions in her hand. Beacon Hill. Well, she knew where that was. She drove, uncertain of what she was going to.do when she finally faced down Andrew Pearson’s father.
It was a beautiful street, tree-lined, each house more magnificent than the next. She thought she could smell the old money behind the iron gates leading up to the beautiful houses. She slowed until she found the house number she wanted painted on the curb. She pulled into the short driveway and waited for the speaker system sticking out of the ground to activate. “I’m here to see Mr. Pearson,” Annie said when a garbled voice asked what she wanted.
“What is your name?”
“Anna Clark. I’m a ... friend of Andrew’s,” she lied. She waited a moment to see if there would be further conversation. When the system remained silent, she climbed back into the car. Almost immediately, the ornate gates began to open. Annie drove through in a burst of speed, praying the person controlling the huge gates didn’t have a change of heart.
Up close, the house didn’t look quite as nice as it did from the street. The windows needed to be cleaned, as did the copper gutters. The steps and banisters needed fresh paint. One windowsill was almost rotted through. So much for old, moldy, musty money, Annie thought as she rang the doorbell.
A plump, apple-cheeked woman with a hearty topknot smiled a welcome when she opened the door. “Come in, Miss Clark. Mr. Pearson is expecting you.”
“He is? I just got here a few hours ago. Is it possible you have me mixed up with someone else?”
“I don’t think so. Mr. Pearson said you would come someday.” The woman’s voice turned fretful. “I wish you had come sooner. Mr. Pearson is not well. Some