by Edwin Dasso
Lorelei shook her head and pressed her lips together.
Tori noticed the middle-aged woman standing in the doorway again. “Thanks, anyway.” She strolled out of the shop, thinking the purchaser had probably paid extra for their silence. Otherwise, why keep it a secret? Lorelei mentioned that she had never seen him before, so it wasn’t like he was a steady customer.
Disappointed, Tori headed back to the gallery.
Shortly before 7:00 p.m., Tori took the elevator down to the lobby and waited for Keith.
“Mrs. Burgess, were you able to find out who had delivered the box?” Jerry asked.
“No. Charles couldn’t find any more on the surveillance recording than you did last night.”
“Perhaps the equipment malfunctioned.”
“Yes, that’s probably what happened.” Tori watched Keith approaching the door.
He eyed her up and down. “You look lovely, as always.”
“Thank you, Keith.” She took his offered arm while mulling over the way his eyes drifted over her body like they often did. He appeared to want a physical relationship, but his kisses never held any promises of more to come. A brief peck on the mouth was all she got. She had no intention of moving into his place, but if something happened that caused her to change her mind, she doubted locking her bedroom door or bathroom door would even be necessary.
He began to lead her to his Mercedes.
“Since the restaurant is close, why don’t we walk over?”
“A news report indicated rain later this evening.”
Tori looked up and didn’t see a cloud in the sky.
Keith drove the three blocks to the restaurant. There was a crowd, some sitting on benches and others milling about, waiting to be seated. Holding her hand, he guided her through the throng of people to the maître d’. As usual when he took her out to dinner, they were seated immediately, to the irritation of the other waiting patrons.
As they looked over the menu, a commotion erupted near the entrance.
Turning her head toward the noise, Tori saw a forty-something, thin woman in jeans and a t-shirt storming through the crowd.
Keith jumped to his feet. “Excuse me, Tori.” He hurried to the woman, grabbed her arm, and pulled her out of the building while she shouted obscenities.
From the way he manhandled her, Tori expected someone at the restaurant to come to the woman’s defense, but no one made any effort to intervene. Tori wondered if the woman was one of Keith’s old girlfriends or perhaps his ex-wife. Besides telling each other they were divorced and discovering their divorces had been finalized within a few months of each other, Tori knew nothing about his ex-wife. Since she didn’t want to discuss Brandon with Keith, she avoided the subject of prior relationships.
Keith edged through the waiting people and strode back to the table, but didn’t take his seat. “A family emergency has come up. I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut our date short. Can I make it up by cooking you one of my favorite dishes Saturday night?”
“Cooking? That’s a talent I didn’t know you had.”
“It’s a limited talent that extends to four or five dishes. Nothing gourmet.”
Tori rose to her feet. “What time on Saturday?”
“Seven. I have to go out of town for a couple of days. I’ll text you my address or would you prefer that I pick you up?”
“No, I can drive to your place.”
“My ex-wife is waiting in my car. Would you mind walking back to your apartment by yourself?”
“Not at all.” She gave him a smile. “Thank you for our ‘almost’ date.”
He returned her smile and then settled up with the waitress.
Stepping out onto the sidewalk with Keith, Tori saw the irate woman in Keith’s passenger seat staring out the back window. As they came closer to his Mercedes, the passenger door flew open.
“Stay away from him. He’s dangerous!” the woman shouted.
Keith rushed to the door and hissed, “Francine, get back in the car.” He pushed her back into the car and then slammed the door. With a red face full of rage, he looped around the hood to the other side.
Opening the driver’s door, he turned to Tori. “Sorry, you saw that. See you on Saturday.”
Before Tori could respond, he climbed into his vehicle and started the engine. She stood on the sidewalk and watched Keith drive away.
Ambling toward Brandon’s apartment building, Tori replayed the confrontation between Keith and his ex-wife in her head. She had never seen him angry before and didn’t like what she saw. He had roughly handled the woman and shoved her back into the car after she had shouted a warning to Tori—"Stay away from him. He’s dangerous.” Dangerous? What did she mean by that? Had he abused her? Or had he committed some other type of crime?
Even though they had been dating over a month, they had never gone out with any of his friends. Once he had taken her to a private club connected to a golf course where he said he played often, but no one there that evening seemed to recognize him. Assuming the club had a large membership, she’d just brushed it off. The more she thought about Keith, the more she realized how little she knew about him.
They had met at a party hosted by Ashley, a mutual friend, to celebrate the grand opening of her boutique. It was the only party she had ever attended where the hostess took off to deal with a problem that had arisen. Ashley’s sister, who also worked at the boutique, had filled in. Tori had been outside gazing at the starlit night and drinking a glass of champagne when Keith started talking to her about the stars. She was impressed by his knowledge of the constellations. He seemed to know all of them. Maybe Keith’s ex-wife is a difficult woman and that’s why they’re divorced. Tori decided to call Ashley to find out what she knew about Keith’s ex-wife.
Seeing Brandon’s apartment building in front of her, she sighed, thinking the stroll back was the first time since she had moved into Brandon’s apartment that she hadn’t sensed someone watching her. Tori wondered if it was because her nerves were a little rattled from the events at the restaurant, so her senses were out of whack.
“Good evening, Mrs. Burgess.” Jerry opened the door for her.
She noticed the puzzled expression on his face. He probably expected me to be gone longer than thirty minutes. “Good evening, Jerry.”
“Have you—”
The lobby phone rang.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Burgess.” Jerry walked away to answer the phone.
Presuming his question was regarding last night’s package, she hurried into the elevator.
After eating a sandwich, Tori plopped down on the sofa and called Ashley.
“Hello?” The voice wasn’t Ashley’s. It sounded like an elderly woman.
“Is Ashley there?”
“No,” the woman said, hesitantly. “Ashley’s in the hospital.”
“Hospital?” Tori squinted. “What happened? This is Tori Burgess. I’m one of Ashley’s friends.”
“Oh, Tori. I remember you. You were Ashley’s college roommate during her junior year.”
“Yes. She was a fun roommate.”
“Ashley is in St. Mark’s Hospital. She sustained a serious head injury and broken bones in a car accident five weeks ago.” Ashley’s mother inhaled deeply and swallowed hard. “For a time, we thought we were going to lose her. She’s slowly recovering. One of her legs is in traction and, due to a throat injury, she has a hard time speaking. She communicates by writing.”
Thinking one of her good friends had been in the hospital for a month and she didn’t even know about it, Tori’s eyes became misty. Am I so consumed in trying to make a life for myself without Brandon that I’ve ignored all my friends, except Mandy? Poor Ashley. Why didn’t I know? “Is she going to be okay?”
“We’re all praying she will be. Her doctor is very optimistic.”
“Can she have visitors?” Tori fought to keep her tears at bay.
“Yes, but due to her condition she has limited visiting hours—10:00 to noon and 6:3
0 to 8:00 p.m. She’s in room 322.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Williams.”
A few tears rolled down Tori’s cheeks as she clicked the “end” button. She went to the bathroom and grabbed a handful of tissues.
Before she sat down again, her phone vibrated. Recalling she had switched it to vibrate when she went out with Keith, she glanced at the caller’s name. “Hi, Brandon,” she answered, her voice dragging.
“What’s wrong?” Concern was evident in his tone.
“I just found out Ashley’s in the hospital. She was in a terrible accident a month ago.”
“Why didn’t someone call you earlier?”
“Her family was probably too upset to call her friends. I called Ashley. Her mom answered her cell. That’s how I know Ashley’s in the hospital. I’m going to St. Mark’s to see her tomorrow.” Tori glanced at the clock on the wall—8:45 p.m. “It’s kind of late there. Are you calling for any special reason?” she asked, knowing it was 1:45 a.m. in his time zone.
“I left you two messages on your cell phone earlier asking you to return my call. Since I didn’t hear from you, I was starting to get worried.”
“That’s my fault. I turned off the sound earlier. Now that you know I’m okay, maybe you should go to bed and catch a few winks before morning.”
“Not until we discuss a private investigator, Trent Rice. He told me he had called you yesterday.”
“Yes, he did.” Tori briefed Brandon about the investigator’s call, and then said, “I suggested he contact you, but he never asked for your phone number.”
“I had assumed you had given it to him. Maybe he got it from the accident report.”
“Fackrell’s wife has been dead for over a year. Any idea why after all that time Rice’s client is initiating an investigation now?”
“The investigator mentioned to you and to me that Fackrell still blames me for his wife’s death. Maybe Fackrell’s been seeing a shrink about it, but can’t let it go. And, he could’ve come into some additional means to seek his revenge.”
“Revenge? You think he’s planning on harming you?”
“That’s the drift I got from the investigator.”
“Then it’s good that you’re in England. Assuming that’s the situation, why doesn’t the client go to the police?”
“The client might suspect Rob Fackrell is up to no good, but lacks any proof. She has to have something substantial to take to the police or Fackrell will deny her allegations. It would be a “She said, He said” thing. That could be why she hired an investigator—to get proof.”
“Maybe the client is a relative and wants to stop him before he does something stupid that’ll land him in jail for years.”
“That’s my thought also. I got an update from the guy who’s tapping my landline. The heavy breather called around midnight your time. My phone tapper traced that call to a public phone at a convenience market a few blocks from my place and he managed to trace a couple of the earlier calls that hadn’t been deleted from the answering machine to the same location. Tori, I have a hunch Rob Fackrell is the caller, and he’s trying to upset you in order to get me to return to the States.”
“Why do you think he’d believe you’d return because of that?”
“Because I would if I thought you were in danger.”
“No, you stay put. Should you be right that Fackrell made the calls, don’t let him use me as bait.”
“I’ll give the guy working on identifying the caller a week, and then make a decision whether to stay or go.”
“Brandon, are you serious? You’d leave your job and come here?”
“Yes. Tori, I’ll never stop loving you. You’ll always be first in my life, even though I’m way down the totem pole in yours.”
Then why did you cheat on me? Trying to come up with a response to Brandon’s comment, she remained silent.
“Tori, are you still there?”
“Yes. Brandon, I’m safe in your apartment.” She’d already determined not to tell him anything about the black rose. That could be the catalyst to put him on the next plane. “I don’t think you should even consider returning to the States until the investigator has finished his job. I’ll call Trent Rice tomorrow and see if he’ll give me any information. I’ll call you tomorrow sometime before midnight your time and let you know what I found out. And now, it’s time for you to go to sleep.”
“Agreed. I’m having a hard time staying awake. Make sure the security alarm is set.”
“I always do. Goodnight, Brandon.”
“Goodnight, Tori.” She heard sadness in his voice.
Laying down her cell, she guessed that Brandon had hoped she would give him some encouraging words after he professed that he still loved her. Over the past year, he had told her that often, but she never reciprocated though she also loved him. Can I ever look past his infidelity?
5
After reporting to work the following day and spending an hour posting payments, Tori went through her cell phone call log and located Trent Rice’s phone number. His voicemail picked up after six rings. She left him a message to return her call.
An hour later, she strolled to the parking lot, climbed into her car, and drove to St. Mark’s hospital. Once she arrived, it didn’t take her long to locate Room 322.
The door stood ajar. Tori gasped when she saw her friend with her leg in traction, tubes sticking out of her arm, and a bandage on her throat. A nurse placed a card down next to a huge bouquet on a table close to Ashley’s bed. Tori felt irritated with herself for not even thinking about stopping and buying Ashley flowers on the way to the hospital.
Ashley turned her head toward the doorway and a soft smile crossed her face as the nurse adjusted the pillows behind her head.
Tori stepped closer. “Oh, Ashley, I’m so sorry. Had I known I would’ve come earlier.”
Ashley’s mouth moved but Tori couldn’t figure out what she was trying to say.
“Here, Ashley,” the nurse said, handing her a notepad and pencil.
As the nurse walked away from the bed, she looked at Tori. “One of Ashley’s doctors will be here around 10:30. Please make your visit short.”
Tori nodded. “I will.” She took the chair next to the bed while Ashley wrote on the notepad.
Ashley handed the notepad to Tori. On it she had written, “Thank you for flowers.”
Tori stood and looped around the bed, admired the bouquet, and read the card.
Dear Ashley,
Wishing you a speedy recovery.
Love,
Tori
Assuming Brandon had sent them, a sense of warmth swirled through her. He knew I’d forget. “You’re welcome, Ashley. I’m glad they arrived before I did.”
As Tori took her seat again, Ashley scribbled on the notepad and gave it to her. It read: “Keith okay?”
Tori figured one of Ashley’s visitors must have mentioned that Keith and she were dating. “He’s doing well.”
A big smile flashed on Ashley’s face.
“How are you doing?” Tori handed the notepad back to Ashley and leaned closer to read as Ashley wrote.
Still smiling, Ashley jotted on the notepad. “Happy Keith okay. Mom & sister act like don’t know him.”
Had Ashley been dating Keith before her accident? Maybe her family knows he’s seeing someone else and are keeping it from her. On that thought, Tori decided not to even attempt to ask Ashley about Keith’s ex-wife. Tori stroked Ashley’s arm. “I would’ve come to see you earlier, but I just found out last night about your accident.”
Ashley scrawled again. “Mom thinks too many visitors not good for me. Sister’s running boutique. Tells customers I’m taking care of sick relative.” A soft laugh came from her throat. “Guess that’s close to the truth.”
A lab coat clad man with his name tag on its pocket strode into the room.
Tori gently squeezed Ashley’s hand. “Looks like your doctor is here.”
Ashley nodded and sc
ribbled, “Have three.”
“I’ll come back and visit with you on Sunday.” Tori stood up.
Ashley smiled and mouthed something that Tori took as, “Glad you came.”
As Tori left, she heard the doctor say, “Good morning, Ashley.”
Stepping out into the hall, Tori glanced back at her friend and silently prayed Ashley would completely recover.
It was almost 3:00 p.m. when Trent Rice returned Tori’s call. After identifying himself, he asked, “Did you remember seeing Rob Fackrell?”
“No, but since you also called my ex-husband, I’m presuming your investigation has to do with Mr. Fackrell’s wife’s accident. Is that correct?”
“Yes. According to my client, Mr. Fackrell claims your ex-husband’s car was illegally parked at the time of the accident, a fact that was not in the police report.”
Illegally parked? Why didn’t Brandon mention that to me? “Even if it was, that wouldn’t have made my ex-husband responsible for Mrs. Fackrell crashing into his car. And, if Rob Fackrell thinks that would change who was at fault, he should discuss it with the police.”
“He has.”
“Well then, does your client believe Rob Fackrell is out to avenge his wife’s death?”
“Mrs. Burgess, I’m afraid I can’t divulge any specifics about the investigation—client confidentiality.”
“Can you at least tell me if my ex-husband is in danger?”
“If I discover anything in the course of my investigation that would indicate your ex-husband is in imminent danger, I certainly will share that with the police department.”
Since the investigator had felt it was necessary to qualify “danger” with the word “imminent,” Tori surmised he did feel Brandon was in danger. Just like Brandon and I assumed they don’t have any proof Fackrell is seeking revenge, but his client suspects he is. Otherwise, I doubt she’d go to the expense of hiring an investigator.
The investigator went on. “My client still claims she saw you with Rob Fackrell.”
“Maybe he’s using an alias. Can you send me a picture of him without his beard?”