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Writing a Wrong

Page 13

by Betty Hechtman


  ‘When you serve coffee to a lot of people in the morning, you learn to read their faces. It’s mostly about the eyes. I can always tell a been-up-all-nighter.’ She leaned a little closer and looked over my face. ‘I know just what you need. I’ll brew you my light morning blends. Just a note you might want to add when you write the descriptions – contrary to what a lot of people think, the light roast offers the biggest hit of caffeine. All those dark roasts with their robust flavors actually lose their wake-up power in the longer roasting.’

  ‘Good to know. And we need to make a point of your expertise at figuring out the right brew for your customer’s need,’ I said, pulling out my notebooks and taking a stool that was out of the way. I wrote down what she’d said, along with the name of the two blends she was making for me. One was called Brain Starter and the other, Eyes Wide Open. When I looked up from writing I saw that another customer had arrived. My stool was out of her view, so I was free to stare at her. It was obvious she wasn’t a student. They dressed for comfort, and she was all about style. I could see the two-piece fitted suit showing through her open black tailored coat. Most of the students wore boots or sneakers. She sported designer heels. Her dark blonde hair appeared recently styled and hung smooth and long. I caught a glimpse of her face. All I could think of was she was absolutely beautiful and there was something familiar about her that I couldn’t place.

  Zooey regarded her with surprise. ‘You look like you’re dressed for work.’

  The woman let out a tired sigh. ‘I am, but I’m having a hard time launching myself off to make my calls. I remembered that special drink you told me about. I thought maybe something like that would help.’

  As I listened, I realized who she was. Rita Sandusky. When I’d seen her before she’d been dressed in sweats with no makeup or styled hair on the arm of the police detective. Her expression had been different, too. She’d had a faraway numb sort of look which had altered her features. Now that I knew who she was, I leaned in to be able to eavesdrop better.

  ‘You mean the Chocodelite?’ Zooey asked. It was clear that they knew each other, but then they lived in the same building.

  ‘Yes, that sounds like it. I remember you said it had a lot of caffeine and chocolate. I need both of those right now.’ She leaned against the counter as if she needed it for support. ‘I’d like nothing better than to take some time off, but I can’t let my boss know about what happened.’ She stopped and looked stricken. ‘What happened was horrible, but then to be questioned again.’ She shook her head with dismay. ‘They asked all kind of crazy stuff and mentioned names I’d never heard of.’

  I cringed, wondering if my name was one of the ones they’d mentioned, but neither woman seemed to be paying me any notice as Rita continued, ‘They wanted to know if he’d had mail delivered to my address.’ She shrugged. ‘I never thought about it until they asked me. He probably had his mail sent to the place he was renovating.’

  It was hard not to look in her direction as she was talking, but I forced myself to keep looking down at the counter. And she kept on talking while Zooey made her drink. ‘The plan was we were going to live there together once it was finished. I never saw the actual unit because he said it was too torn-up.’ Her voice began to crack and she dabbed at her eye. ‘He said he wanted to do the grand reveal when it was all done and we could move in.’ She glanced sideways at Zooey. ‘Did you ever see him with somebody else when I was out of town?’ she asked.

  ‘No. I never saw him that much.’ Zooey seemed to stumble as she said it. I wasn’t sure if Rita didn’t notice the way Zooey said it or if she simply wanted to believe what she’d said was true because she let it go by. Maybe it was because I wrote a mystery, but I never would have let it slide.

  ‘Sometimes it seemed like we were just ships passing in the night,’ Rita said. ‘It seemed like one of us was always traveling. He wasn’t even supposed to be there that day.’ I barely heard past the first sentence. Really? Ships passing in the night. Not only was it an overused phrase, but inaccurate. It was based on a Longfellow poem that described two ships passing in the darkness not likely to encounter each other again. Rita clearly did see Ted more than once. A mental red flag went up in my head. I was a single woman, with a cat, living surrounded by memories, who wasted mental energy fussing about incorrect word usage. It had spinster, dull and no fun written all over it.

  ‘I’ll get that drink ready for you,’ the barista said, gathering the ingredients. ‘Do you need me to take in your mail?’ I stopped thinking about myself and went back to listening.

  ‘No, I’m just doing local calls. Thank heavens. About that,’ Rita finally looked around and I quickly looked down as if I was reading my notebook. ‘I’m not going to leave a key in the umbrella anymore. I’ll have to work something else out.’

  ‘Is that how they think the burglar got in?’ Zooey asked.

  ‘I suggested it to the detective, and he agreed it seemed likely since the lock wasn’t broken. Then he wanted to know who knew about the key and I said I didn’t know. Then he told me that leaving a key “hidden” outside the door was the first thing that burglars looked for.’ She let out a mirthless laugh. ‘And I thought that nobody would look in the spokes of an umbrella.’ She looked at Zooey. ‘I wonder if this will finally get them to put some cameras in the lobby. I talked to Lois about it a while ago. She said she’d pass it on to the owners. A lot of good that did.’

  ‘Under the circumstance, couldn’t you postpone the calls you have scheduled?’ Zooey asked as she finished the drink preparation.

  ‘The doctors I’m supposed to meet aren’t the problem. I’d have to tell my boss and if he heard anything about an investigation, he’d let me go.’ She appeared stricken. ‘I can’t lose my job.’

  I was trying to figure out their relationship. They seemed an unlikely pair to be friends. Rita was probably ten years older and in the vicinity of my age. Her clothes, her job all seemed at the other end of the spectrum from Zooey’s funky outfit and struggling business.

  ‘How about some whipped cream,’ she said, holding the drink in one hand and a can in the other. ‘I don’t usually add it, but it seems like that kind of day for you.’

  ‘Go ahead,’ Rita said. ‘You’re right. Who cares about calories? But you’d better pack it to go. It’ll keep me going as I drive.’ Zooey poured the mug’s contents into a large paper cup and filled the empty space above the hot liquid with mounds of the creamy topping.

  Rita took a test taste and closed her eyes as she savored the flavor. ‘I think you’ve discovered the magic elixir.’ Zooey tried to give her the drink on the house, but Rita insisted on paying, adding a tip. ‘I need you to stay in business,’ she said smiling. As she was walking away, the younger woman called out: ‘Try to have a good day.’

  Rita called back a thanks, but her tone was flat, as if there was no way it was going to happen.

  When she was gone, Zooey came down the counter to where I was sitting. ‘Sorry for ignoring you.’ She looked in the direction that Rita had gone. ‘I don’t usually like women like her. They seem stuck-up and in love with their own reflection. But not her. She’s actually nice. She lives down the hall from me in a much bigger and nicer unit. I have what they call a studio, which means everything is in one room. I’m lucky the bathroom is separate,’ she said with a smile. ‘She, on the other hand, has a two-bedroom, very nicely furnished. My place is decorated with a bunch of cast-offs from my family.’ Zooey seemed a little wistful. ‘Maybe someday I’ll be able to afford a bigger place, but in the meantime I can’t even afford any help. I just shut down for a couple of hours in the afternoon when it’s slowest to give me a little time off.’ I wanted to hear more about Rita, so I steered the conversation back to her.

  ‘It seems like the Chocodelite saved her day,’ I began. ‘I like the way she called it a magic elixir. Maybe I should add that to my description.’

  ‘I was glad to do what I could to help her,’ Zooey said. �
��Something terrible …’ She stopped herself and glanced around to see who was there. Once she saw it was only us, she came down the bar until she was standing across the counter from me. ‘Someone killed her boyfriend. Right there in her apartment.’

  I picked up on the word ‘her’ apartment. ‘Then he didn’t live there?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s all about the difference between living there and staying there. She never said too much. We weren’t that kind of friends. I heard he was remodeling a condo downtown somewhere and needed a place to stay in the meantime.’

  ‘It must be strange for you. Someone killed in your building. Did you know him?’

  ‘Not exactly.’ She suddenly looked uncomfortable. ‘I guess I can tell you. It’s not like you’re involved or anything.’ I had to fight to keep from reacting and thought of Ben’s neutral expression. If he could manage it when he was reading Ed’s descriptions of body parts and whatnot, I could certainly manage it now. ‘If you’d met him, you’d understand. He was the kind of guy who could charm the birds out of the trees.’

  My cliché warning went off and I could feel my posture change. I took a breath and told myself to let it go. It wasn’t as if it was someone in the writers’ group or me. She had every right to use as many trite phrases as she wanted. I did ask her to clarify what she meant.

  ‘He wasn’t anyone I’d be interested in. Too old and establishment type, but he always added some personal detail about me when he said hello. He’d ask about the coffee place or compliment me on my scarf, and somehow whatever he said seemed to be exactly what I needed to hear. He was gone a lot and I didn’t see him that often. He told me he was a pilot for a charter airline. It seemed cool to me that he got to go all over the world and get paid for it.’ She let out a tired sigh. ‘That’s one downside to having your own business. You’re kind of tethered to it.’ She looked at my notebook. ‘You aren’t going to put that in, are you? Please don’t. I want it to seem like this place is my dream come true and that I love every second that I’m here making a brew.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I only put in positive information.’ I did what I could to get her back talking about Ted. ‘I guess you would know if they hadn’t been getting along,’ I said.

  ‘They seemed like the perfect couple. You saw her, she’s beautiful. And he was – I think the word is “dashing” – sort of like Harrison Ford in his old movies.’ There was a definite lull in her business and she came around the counter and sat on the stool next to me.

  ‘I heard her say they traveled a lot. Any idea how they stayed in touch?’ I asked, wondering if she’d been the recipient of the letters I created.

  Zooey laughed. ‘By text, how else?’

  ‘Are you worried, living down the hall from a murder?’ I asked.

  ‘The cops told me it seemed as if Ted interrupted a burglar.’

  ‘I guess she must have had fancy jewelry,’ I said.

  ‘She’s a rep for a drug company. The detective I spoke to said the person might have been looking for drug samples.’

  ‘I’m surprised she’d want to stay there after what happened.’

  ‘She didn’t for a couple of nights. First it was a crime scene and she couldn’t stay there and then she arranged for a crime cleanup crew to take care of the …’ she hesitated. ‘Blood. They put all the stuff back in the drawer, too. The place looked normal by the time she came back.’ Zooey looked down at the counter and fiddled with the napkin dispenser. Something about her body language made it seem like she was holding something back.

  ‘Is there something else?’ I asked. She took a couple of deep breaths and finally looked up.

  ‘I haven’t told anybody this. Once when Rita was on the road for a couple of days, I saw him on the street with another woman. I thought he was supposed to be out of town too.’ Zooey wasn’t really looking at me and it seemed as if it was more about getting something off her chest than telling me anything. ‘He came to my place afterwards and turned on the charm, asking me not to say anything to her. He said it wasn’t what it seemed and there was no reason to upset Rita. He convinced me it would be our little secret, as if we were on a team and Rita was on the opposing side. I wasn’t looking to get into the middle of their business anyway, so I agreed.’ She seemed relieved when she finished. ‘I guess I don’t have to tell you not to repeat it.’ She shrugged. ‘Who would you tell anyway? It’s all just a bunch of names to you.’ She looked at my empty mugs. ‘So, what did you think about the coffee?’

  So I had been right when I sensed Zooey stumbled when Rita had asked her about other women when she was out of town. I kept my triumph to myself and gave her my assessment of the coffee. I suggested focusing on their caffeine content rather than the flavor and she agreed.

  I left there with a lot on my mind from our conversation and a buzz from the two mugs of highly caffeinated coffee. The walk to my next appointment helped with both. I’d already heard that it looked like a burglary, but that it could have been staged as a cover-up. Nice a person as Zooey said Rita was, Rita was the most likely suspect. I was sure that Detective Jankowski thought so too, even without what Zooey had told me. Most murders were committed by people who knew each other and spouses or romantic partners were the most likely of those. I still didn’t know if the love letters I’d written had gone to her – or to someone else? The fact that Detective Jankowski had asked me about them made me believe Rita hadn’t been the recipient. What about the woman that Zooey had seen him with? Who was she, and if it was all as innocent as Ted had tried to make it sound, why had he come on so strong to Zooey about keeping it under wraps?

  SIXTEEN

  The walk over to LaPorte’s was a good buffer between projects. The buzz from the coffee had subsided a bit and, after I’d gone over everything that Zooey and I had talked about along with the information I’d gotten about Ted, I pushed it out of my mind, ready to deal with my next client. I’d spoken to Rex the day before and we’d set up this time for me to do more tastings. He wanted to speed things up and have me taste a number of the menu items and gather more background information.

  The interior of LaPorte’s was bright from the blond wood of the table and all the windows. It was the breather between the end of breakfast and the start of lunch. Only a few tables were occupied and there were only a couple of people in line at the counter. The staff was busy making use of the slow time. As I approached the counter, I could see the cooks bustling around the kitchen. A baker came out from the back with a tray of fruit-covered pastries and put it into the refrigerated cases in front just as another baker dumped loaves of freshly baked bread into a basket behind the counter. An interior window looked in on a metal table and one of the bakers was decorating a birthday cake while another was adding decorations to a tray of cookies. The whole place smelled great and, since I hadn’t had breakfast, I was really looking forward to the tastings.

  I felt uncomfortable about bypassing the line and going right up to the counter, so I stepped to the end of those waiting. When it was my turn, I realized the woman working the counter was Cocoa. She gave me a blank look at first and then remembered who I was and why I was there. ‘Maybe if you have a moment, you can tell me what it was like when your mother started baking.’

  She seemed exasperated at the suggestions. ‘I can’t deal with that now.’ Rex came out of the back a moment later. He had a tweed sport coat over the white polo shirt and black pants that seemed to be the uniform of the place. He looked at his sister. ‘You can’t wait on customers when you’re like this,’ he said. ‘It’ll be fine, you’ll see.’ He gave me an apologetic smile before turning back to Cocoa. ‘Why don’t you take a spa day?’

  ‘Maybe I will,’ she said. ‘You’re right. There’s no reason to panic.’ She glanced back at me. ‘He’ll take care of you.’ And with that she left.

  ‘Sorry for all that,’ Rex said. ‘She has a lot going on. We all do with the expansion.’ He let out a weary sigh. ‘I know why you’re here,’ he said. �
��I was just on my way out, but I’ll get someone to bring you a plate of samples.’ He turned to the woman who had come from the back to take Cocoa’s place. ‘Let’s do the chicken Waldorf salad, curry chicken salad and German potato salad.’

  My heart sank when I heard the list. Even that kind of potato salad had meat in it. Had he forgotten that I was a vegetarian? They all had a lot going on and my non-meat-eating was hardly a priority. There was nothing to do but remind him and face that I might lose the gig. It wasn’t a pleasant thought since the job with them was the best one I had going. I’d given the kids’ shoe store a real deal, I wasn’t sure if Haley would actually ever pay me, and then I’d given Zooey a barter deal. I took a deep breath and reminded him of my eating status.

  ‘You’re right. You did tell me that,’ he said. ‘It’s just a minor adjustment.’ He told the woman to have them make up vegetarian versions before turning back to me just as a woman came from the back and stopped next to him. ‘Irma will take it from here.’ He patted her on the shoulder. ‘She’s been with us for forty years and I’m sure she can give you more background for the part you call the story of us.’ And then he took off.

  She sent me off to a table and came over with a plate of food a few minutes later. ‘I’m so glad that Rex hired you. You certainly came highly recommended. Tizzy was in earlier reminding Rex how great you are and how you do all different kinds of writing. It might have worked in the old days to stick with just calling it chicken salad, but now you have to stir their imagination.’

  ‘Then you know Tizzy?’ I said.

  ‘Everyone knows Tizzy. It seems like she’s on every neighborhood committee and they all meet here,’ she said with a laugh. I liked Irma right away. She gave off the vibe of somebody who had been dealing with customers forever and was completely at ease with it. Like Rex and everybody else, she wore a white polo shirt and black pants, but she had a flower pinned to her shirt and glasses hanging around her neck.

 

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