The Decorator Who Knew Too Much

by Diane Vallere

  I hung up and stared at the phone. I would have been better not calling back.

  I unpacked my clothes and then went to the bathroom. Rocky sniffed the corners of the room. My phone rang as I finished washing my hands. I answered it on the third ring. “Hello?” I answered.

  “Madison Night. I was wondering if I’d ever hear from you again.”

  “Lieutenant Allen,” I said.

  “It’s Captain Allen now.”

  “I heard. Doesn’t have quite the same ring though.”

  When I’d first met Tex, he’d been investigating a body that had been under the wheels of my vintage blue Alfa Romeo. His casual, flirtatious manner had put me and my emotional boundaries on high alert. Since then, I’d made a conscious effort to refer to him by his title and not his nickname because it kept him at a distance. On more than one occasion, I’d taken great pleasure in telling off Lieutenant Tex Allen, and I suspected he hadn’t minded a bit.

  Truth was, Tex was as much to thank for my newfound willingness to be in a relationship as Hudson was. He knew how to push my buttons and offended me with his womanizing ways. He also treated me like an intellectual equal and sought out my advice and opinion. He’d stolen my car, put me under surveillance, and made me frequent a strip club. We were alike in ways I never would have imagined, but when Tex was at his lowest, he shut me out. Perhaps it was yet another way we were alike. It was never comfortable when someone held a mirror up to you and you could see your own flaws reflected in it.

  “You can call me Lieutenant if you want. I kinda miss it.”

  “Those days are over. You gave that up when you accepted your promotion.”

  “I gave up a lot of things recently,” he said. “I haven’t been to Jumbo’s Strip Club in months.”

  “Someone should give you a medal.”

  He laughed. “Man, I missed talking to you. So, what’s up, Night? Staying out of trouble?”

  “Not exactly.” I sat down on the bed. “Can I get your opinion on something police-related?”

  “Shoot.” I stared out the open curtains trying to figure out where to begin. “Night? Are you still with me?” he asked.

  “I’m in Palm Springs. With Hudson James. We came out here to do a job for his brother-in-law and—”

  “And you saw a body in the river and now you’re in the middle of a mess.”

  “Yep.”

  “When the police in Palm Springs answered your first call and didn’t find a body, they weren’t sure if they were dealing with a crackpot. They ran a background check. You have an unusual history when it comes to the police, so they called here to check up on you.”

  “Officer Buchanan said he talked to you.”

  “That was two days ago. I’m surprised I didn’t hear from you then.”

  “You got a call about me from a strange police department. I’m surprised you didn’t call me.”

  “Touché.”

  “Have you heard from Buchanan since that first call?”

  “No, but I heard from Detective Drayton. What’s going on out there, Night?”

  I told Tex everything—well, almost. I told him about the Jeep tipping over and the empty duffel bag at the pier. I told him about the abandoned SUV, the parking tickets, and the body that had turned up days after I’d first seen the floater in the river. I told him about the keys wedged between slats of the pier, Emma’s confession she was having an affair with her doctor, the prescription bottles hidden in her medicine cabinet, and the coincidence of the ex-wife living next door. I even told him about Jimmy’s accusations that I was an attention seeker who had cost him work. I kept the confrontation at the quarry to myself so as not to confuse the details of the murder.

  “What does James have to say about his sister’s affair or the brother-in-law’s accusations?”

  “He doesn’t know about either.” I walked to the window and pushed the curtains aside. Bright sunlight spilled into the window, hot against my bare skin. Kids in the pool below batted a multicolored inflatable ball back and forth. Their laughter carried up to me.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I haven’t told him. Okay?”

  “No, it’s not okay. Why haven’t you told him?”

  “I don’t have to tell him everything.”

  “Night, take some advice from me. Open up and let the guy be a part of your life or you’re going to end up alone.”

  It was an emotional sucker punch. “I have to go,” I said.

  “Call me back. We’re not done talking about this.”

  I hung up. The phone rang almost immediately and I left the call unanswered. I took a few deep breaths, and then went to the bathroom and splashed cool water on my face. “Come on, Rocky, let’s get out of here,” I said. I clipped a turquoise leash onto his collar and locked the door behind me.

  Palm Springs had what was known as the Buzz, a bunch of well-maintained trolleys that provided free access around the downtown area. They were white with brightly colored graphics that provided a whimsical nod to the mid-century vibe. Between sitting around a small motel room and braving the ninety-plus temperature, I chose the latter. The motel concierge pointed me in the direction of the nearest pick-up stop, and Rocky and I headed that direction.

  In a matter of minutes, I regretted my decision. Ninety degrees, even in the desert, sapped me of my energy. I questioned how much work Jimmy and Hudson would get done at the nearby Salton Springs. If I didn’t feel an obligation to participate in the project like Hudson had asked, I would have changed into my bathing suit and spent the day lounging by the pool. But I was tough when it came to scouting out flea markets and second-hand resources, and today would be a good day for bargains. Vendors would know only serious buyers would venture out in this temperature, and it was in everybody’s best interest to strike an agreeable deal. And as luck would have it, the Buzz route to the flea markets had a stop two blocks from Dr. Hall’s office.

  I left the Buzz and carried Rocky until we reached the corner. He whimpered when I set him down on the hot sidewalk. We moved to the far right and stayed under the shade of the buildings until we reached a large pale yellow building with aqua doors. The roof was flat except for a copper incline that held solar panels aimed at the sun. I walked up the concrete path and short flight of stairs and entered the double doors with Rocky by my side. If there were signs that said “no pets allowed,” I chose not to see them.

  On the left-hand wall was a directory. Unlike my own doctor’s office, this one displayed headshots of the physicians who occupied the building. I located Dr. Hall and studied the picture. The similarities between the pale, lifeless face I’d seen in the water and the attractive man who stared out at me were hard to spot, but I couldn’t deny it was the same person.

  A door opened next to me and a woman in a tight red dress came out. “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “I’m looking for Dr. Hall’s office,” I said.

  Her eyes swept me quickly and, from her expression, she was not impressed with McCalls pattern #8755. “Dr. Hall is on vacation,” she said.

  The doctor’s ex-wife had described him as a womanizer who’d engaged in more than one office romance, and I was being sized up as competition. And while the woman’s attitude was far from pleasant, she also wasn’t in mourning. The photo on the wall had confirmed his identity to me. I didn’t need anything else.

  “What did you want to see him about?”

  Despite the fact that we were in an empty hallway outside of a psychiatrist’s office, the question was too personal to answer, so I feigned misunderstanding. “Him? I thought Dr. Hall was a woman.” I looked down at Rocky. “My dog’s been having a hard time with the heat and I thought—”

  “Your dog?”

  I bent down and scooped up Rocky. “Don’t tell me I got that wrong too. Isn’t Dr. Hall a vet?” I stroked Rock
y’s fur. There’s very little in this world less threatening than a middle-aged woman holding her dog like a baby.

  The woman’s expression softened. “There aren’t any vets in this building,” she said. “But I hope he feels better.” She reached her hand out and ruffled his fur. I smiled again and carried him out.

  Four minutes later we were back on the Buzz on the way to the flea market. The seats were all full, so we stood. I kept one hand on the guide rail and the other on Rocky’s leash.

  So Dr. Hall was on vacation. Nobody was looking for him. No wonder he hadn’t been reported missing. Assuming the women in his life knew they shared him with others, none of them would be waiting at home with a hot casserole either. The most popular man in town was dead and I was the only one who knew.

  Except for the murderer.

  The Buzz rounded a corner and my phone rang. I held onto a vertical chrome pole for balance. Almost as soon as the phone stopped ringing, it started again. I looped Rocky’s leash over my wrist and pushed it up to my elbow, and then pulled out my phone.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s Emma. Have you heard from Hudson?”

  “Not since this morning. He and Jimmy went to Salton Springs for the day. I got the feeling they’re going to work as long as they can stand the heat.”

  “Forget about the heat. The guys got into a fight with some of the locals. I don’t know how bad things got, but Jimmy and Hudson just checked themselves into the emergency room.”

  SEVENTEEN

  The trolley turned a corner and I was thrown off balance. I dropped my phone and grabbed the pole with both hands to steady myself. Rocky hopped out of the way and then looked up at me, scared. The trolley pulled over and a few people got off. I scooped up my phone and dropped into a newly vacated seat. Rocky’s leash wound around my leg. I didn’t know where I was headed, but I was no longer worried about getting to the flea market.

  “Emma?” I said into the phone. I swiped the screen. The call had dropped. I called her back, but she didn’t answer. I tried twice and then called Hudson. He didn’t answer either. The trolley slowed to a stop and I got off.

  Emma answered my third call.

  “I’m sorry I hung up,” she said. “Jimmy called and I accidentally disconnected when I tried to put you on hold.”

  “Never mind. What happened? Where are they? How are they?”

  “They’re at the Desert Regional Medical Center. Where are you?”

  “I don’t know.” I looked around. “I just got off the Buzz. I’m somewhere on Palm Canyon Drive, but I’m not sure exactly where.”

  “I know the Buzz route. Stay where you are, and I’ll come get you.” She hung up a second time, leaving me no more informed than before.

  Rocky and I found a well-populated area filled with wrought-iron tables and chairs. I sat in one and he sat by my foot. Even though we were in public, I was wary of every person who entered my line of vision. Who knew Jimmy and Hudson were going to Salton? Why attack them? Were they the same guys who had approached me at the quarry yesterday? Had the police been notified? How did the men get to the hospital?

  I made sure to remain visible from the street so Emma wouldn’t have to look hard to spot us. It was hot. My heart was racing from my hasty exit from the trolley. Rocky stretched out the length of his leash and lapped at a bowl of water a local business had left out for such occasions. I couldn’t sit still not knowing what was going on, so I called Hudson again.

  “Madison,” he said. He coughed a few times. “Hey.”

  “Emma just called me and said you and Jimmy were in the hospital because you got into a fight. What’s going on?”

  “I guess it’s a day of surprises.” His voice sounded strained, as if he was having trouble breathing. Emma had said they’d been in a fight, but she hadn’t meant a verbal one.

  “Where are you?”

  “The emergency room.” He coughed again. “They’re not real fast over here. I might be a little late for our romantic evening.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll survive.”

  Questions crowded my head, but Hudson’s simple answers and forced light tone were making it difficult for me to focus. “What about Jimmy? How’s he?”

  “Don’t know. They took him one direction and sent me another. I can’t really talk right now. I’ll call you later, okay, hon?”

  “Okay,” I said, though it was anything but.

  Emma pulled up to the curb in front of me twenty-three minutes later. I was near crazy with worry. The top on the convertible was down and her bike rested on the backseat. I moved a pile of blue and white striped beach towels and swim goggles to the back and climbed into her car, buckled the seatbelt, and held Rocky on my lap. She peeled away from the curb fast enough to let me know she wanted to reach the hospital as much as I did.

  “I talked to Hudson,” I said.

  “How is he? Jimmy didn’t know.”

  “He sounded like he was tired or having trouble breathing. How’s Jimmy?”

  “I don’t know. He told me where they were and then said he had to go.” She started to cry. Tears streamed down her face, and every few seconds she took her hand off the wheel to brush them off her cheeks.

  We lapsed into silence. Emma challenged the speed limit and barely made two yellow lights. The third, which turned red before we entered the intersection, proved to be her undoing. A police car pulled out from the side of the road and tailed us. She ignored his flashing lights, but when he turned on his siren, she pulled over.

  I twisted around. The black and white car pulled up behind us and Officer Buchanan got out. He approached the driver’s side window.

  Emma stared at the wheel, her hands in her lap. She gave up wiping away the tears and they dripped from her face onto her shirt.

  “Ms. McKenna, may I have your license and registration?” he asked. She nodded but didn’t look at him.

  I leaned forward and looked at him through Emma’s window. “Officer, we’re on our way to the hospital,” I said. “Hudson and Jimmy were admitted to the emergency room.”

  His expression changed. “What happened?”

  “We don’t know yet,” Emma said.

  I looked at Emma. Her face had gone pale. It hit me that I’d assumed Jimmy called her, but that didn’t seem to be the case. She called him when I called Hudson, and neither had been able to talk. How had she known about the fight? And then I remembered their argument and her storming out of the house.

  I put my hand on her forearm in a gesture I hoped conveyed that I sensed her fear. “They headed out to Salton Springs this morning. Emma called me as soon as she heard they had trouble, but we don’t know the extent of it. Please—” I said, and then caught myself. There was no point asking for leniency.

  Buchanan went back to his car with Emma’s license and registration. A few minutes later, he returned. He leaned toward us and put his hands on the top of the car. I could hear his fingers strumming the roof. He looked at Emma for a few seconds and then at me. “I’m not going to give you a ticket as long as you two trade places.”

  Emma nodded her head but didn’t look at either of us. I let go of her forearm and set Rocky on the seat between us. I got out and walked around the back of the car. The officer met me by the trunk. “Mrs. McKenna is clearly very upset. I don’t think she should be behind the wheel.” I must have looked confused, because he continued. “When I ran your background, I didn’t see any traffic violations.”

  I nodded. The only thing I wanted was to get us to the hospital and find out what happened.

  “One last thing,” he said. “The hospital isn’t going to allow you to take your dog inside. How about I take him to the precinct? You can pick him up when you’re done.”

  The answer was no, but the alternative—leaving Rocky alone in the car in hundred-degree heat
—wasn’t acceptable either. I searched the officer’s face for signs I could trust him with arguably the most important presence in my life. I realized I was being forced to make a choice between Hudson and Rocky and I didn’t like how that felt.

  “He’s everything to me,” I said.

  “He’ll be okay.”

  Tears sprung to my eyes. “I mean Rocky,” I whispered. I braced myself for the officer’s judgment.

  “When my wife died, I adopted a Pomeranian,” he said. “I knew what you meant.”

  I swiped the tears off my face. It wouldn’t do anybody any good for me to cry, not Emma, not Hudson, not Rocky. I went to the driver’s side. Emma had slid across the front seat and was buckled in. Her arms were wrapped around Rocky the same way her daughter Heather hugged him. All of a sudden, Emma seemed not like an adult but like a young girl who had done something wrong and was afraid of her punishment.

  “Officer Buchanan is going to take Rocky. I’ll pick him up when we’re done.”

  She relaxed her arms and Rocky jumped out and ran to me. I picked him up and kissed him. “You have to behave,” I said. “I’ll pick you up as soon as I can.”

  Rocky nuzzled my face and then wriggled out of my arms. He ran to a patch of dry desert brush and left behind evidence of his own fear. I handed his leash off to the police officer and climbed into Emma’s car feeling all kinds of emptiness.