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Organized to Death

Page 20

by Jan Christensen


  Tina lifted her face toward him, but he didn’t lean down to kiss her. Instead, he let her go. But not before she felt the hardness between his legs against her hip.

  “You’d better go now, Red,” he said gruffly. He sat down and picked up the bag from Anthony’s.

  “Right,” Tina said. “I’ll see you around.”

  She left without looking back. Sudden exhaustion washed over her. She just wanted to go home and go to sleep. Her arms felt weak as she climbed into her car and drove home.

  But she lay awake for hours, thinking about the Lunch Bunch, thinking about Crystal, Brenda, and Rachel and Nicky, thinking about cancer. And thinking about Hank.

  ***

  After a quick breakfast with Uncle Bob, Tina drove to Ted’s office. The waiting room was filling up, but Ted sat at his desk, reading a file.

  Tina stood in the doorway. “I’m done with the kitchen. You want me to start purging files?”

  “Yes. First I want you to set up one of the back rooms upstairs for the older files. You can decide which room would be the most suitable. I’ve ordered the same sort of cabinets we have down here so if we need to find the old files, it’ll be easy. We can just leave the old ones in the boxes until the new cabinets arrive.”

  “Good. How far back do you want to keep them downstairs?”

  “Ten years, I think. Let’s start there and see how much space we clear up. Again, Tina, I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to do this. It’s a big help.”

  Tina shrugged and smiled. “As long as you pay me… .”

  “Of course. How do you want to arrange that? When you finish, by the week?”

  “Like other contracted employees, professional organizers take one half when they start, and the rest when done.” She named a figure.

  Ted wrote out a check and handed it to her.

  “I’ll get going.” Tina turned to leave.

  Ted nodded and began reading again. Tina stopped to say hello to Sylvia and then went upstairs to pick a room.

  It wasn’t nearly as spooky in the bright daylight. Sunlight streamed through the large windows in all the rooms and spilled out into the hallway, highlighting dust motes dancing in the air.

  She decided one of the guest rooms would be best. Some furniture would have to be rearranged or disposed of, but she didn’t think Ted would object to that.

  That decision made, she looked into the rooms at the front again. Nothing else was changed. No one had dusted. She wouldn’t either. Cleaning the kitchen had to be done while she organized, but she refused to clean up here. Ted could hire a cleaning company for that. She stepped out onto the back enclosed porch and thought about Dr. Stevenson’s family sitting here, reading. The old wooden file cabinet in the corner caught her eye. She checked it again. Still locked. What could be in there, she wondered, and the thought of missing files ran through her head.

  She rushed downstairs, anxious to ask Ted if he had the key. At the bottom of the stairs, she almost ran into Brenda.

  “You’re back?” Tina asked.

  “Yes.” A shadow of sadness cloaked Brenda’s pale face.

  “How are you?” Tina felt herself staring and looked away.

  “I’m fine. Excuse me. I have to get to work.”

  Brenda walked to the reception area and called a name. Tina stood rooted to the spot. She wanted to shake her and demand answers. But Brenda looked so fragile, so vulnerable, Tina knew she couldn’t push her.

  She looked into Ted’s office, but he was gone. She heard his voice coming faintly from a treatment room. In with a patient. She’d have to wait to see about a key for the filing cabinet.

  After she retrieved some boxes from her trunk, Tina went to the back of Sylvia’s office and attacked the revolving files. After an hour or so, a thought struck her. Maybe her mother’s file, and the other Lunch Bunch women’s files, were there. She looked for her mother’s first. Her mother had been a patient of Dr. Stevenson’s since she was a little girl. No file. Quickly, Tina checked for the other four. None were there. She started to ask Sylvia about it, but Sylvia wouldn’t know. She hadn’t been Dr. Stevenson’s receptionist. Betsy had. She glanced at her watch. Ten o’clock.

  “Can I borrow the phone book?” Tina asked Sylvia.

  “Sure.” Sylvia waved her hand at it.

  Tina looked up Betsy’s number, then went upstairs to call her on her cell. She didn’t want to be overheard.

  Betsy answered on the fourth ring.

  “Mrs. Holden?” Tina asked, although she knew it was. Betsy Holden’s voice was unmistakable. It had a hollow sound, as if she were talking from a deep well.

  “Yes. Who is this?”

  “It’s Tina. Tina Shaw. I was a patient of Dr. Stevenson’s.”

  “Yes. I remember you, Tina.”

  “Good. I was wondering if I could come see you this noontime? I need to ask you something.”

  “Of course you can. I’ll make lunch.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

  “My pleasure,” Betsy said. “I’ll see you at twelve. You know how to find the house?”

  “Yes. I saw your address in the phone book. I know where it is.”

  “Good. Good. I’ll see you then.”

  “Thank you.”

  They hung up.

  Pulling files and lugging the boxes upstairs when full wasn’t Tina’s idea of a lot of fun, but she wanted to stick around the office in order to possibly learn more, so she trundled on.

  A few minutes before noon, she went to the restroom and washed her hands, then took off for the few blocks’ drive to Betsy’s house. It was overcast, humid, and chilly. A foghorn sounded. Gloomy, Tina thought.

  Betsy opened the door, smiling broadly. The only remarkable thing about her was her voice. It fit the weather, Tina thought, as she entered the comfortable home on Eustis Avenue. A small ranch house, it was filled with knickknacks, cushions, and seascape pictures on all the walls.

  They didn’t hug or shake hands, just exchanged hellos. Betsy took Tina’s jacket and hung it in the hall closet, then led Tina past the living room and into the dining room. On the table were egg salad sandwiches cut into different shapes, potato chips, pickles and olives, and chunks of fruit—kiwi, orange slices and apples—with some grapes in the mix. The table was set with old, expensive china and sterling forks, knives, and spoons.

  “What can I get you to drink?” Betsy asked. “Tea? Hot or cold? Or coffee?”

  “Hot coffee would be good. Thanks.”

  Betsy nodded. “Have a seat.”

  Tina sat while Betsy rattled around in the kitchen. She studied the picture of a rough-tossed sea over the sideboard and the ceramic seagulls and pelicans on top. No pelicans in Newport. Maybe Betsy just liked pelicans.

  Betsy returned with a tray loaded with two coffee cups and a creamer and sugar bowl. She arranged everything on the table, took the tray back to the kitchen, and then sat down.

  “Help yourself,” Betsy said. “How’s your mother? And your uncle?”

  Tina took some of everything and said, “They’re both fine. Uncle Bob scared us the other day when he collapsed in the kitchen. He had a bleeding ulcer. None of us suspected anything so serious. We got him to the hospital and they fixed him up. He’s home now.”

  Betsy took two olives with an olive fork and put them on her plate. “That’s too bad. He was hardly ever in the office with anything when I worked for Dr. Stevenson.”

  “I know. Except for having some stomach trouble off and on, for years, really, we never thought much about his health. He went to the hearing aid dispenser every so often, but he wouldn’t see a doctor about his stomach. Hopefully now he’ll be fine.”

  “I’m sure he will,” Betsy said, her voice warm. “And Laura?”

  “She’s fine. The same as always.”

  Betsy smiled. “Still wants to run your life?”

  “You know about that?” Tina saw the perfect opportunity to broach the subject she’d come
here to talk about.

  Betsy laughed. “I think the whole town knew about that.”

  “And about the other girls whose mothers were the same? Brenda, Leslie, Crystal and Rachel, Sally?” Tina held her breath.

  Betsy put down the sandwich she’d just taken a bite out of. Swallowed hard. “Well, maybe not the whole town.”

  Tina placed her fisted hands on the table. “Mrs. Holden, I’m worried about something, and I’m hoping you might be able to help me.”

  “If I can,” Betsy said, her tone cautious.

  “You know I’m helping Dr. Ted straighten up the office.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m doing the files now. I notice that none of ours, or our mothers’, files are to be found. Dr. Ted had to make up new ones for Brenda and me.”

  Betsy nodded. “Dr. Stevenson kept those files separate.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that. Patient confidentiality.”

  “But I am one of those patients!” Tina stopped herself from banging the table with her fists.

  “And the doctor would have to tell you anything that’s in the files. It’s not my place.”

  Tina felt as if her head were about to explode. She’d never been so frustrated in all her life.

  Betsy was looking at her with some concern, perhaps realizing how close to the edge Tina had gotten. She patted Tina’s hand. “Best not to worry about it. Just get on with your life.”

  Tina forced herself to remain calm. She took several deep breaths. “You’re right, of course,” she finally managed to say. “You’re sure you can’t help me?”

  Betsy looked regretful. “No, Tina.” She patted her hand again, and Tina wanted to snatch it away, but instead used it to pick up the rest of her sandwich.

  Tina managed to eat enough to be polite while Betsy chatted on about Newport. Tina barely heard her.

  So close, she thought. But so far away. Maybe Betsy was right. She should forget the whole thing.

  CHAPTER 35

  After Tina left, Betsy took the tainted leftover egg salad sandwiches and pushed them down the disposal. She’d been clever to cut them into different shapes so she knew which ones she could eat safely. She’d always loved gardening, and thank goodness some of her plants had survived that first frost. They’d come in handy today.

  As she cleared the rest of the dishes, she wondered how long it would take for Tina to die.

  Those daughters thought they were so special. And their mothers. Her hatred of all of them had burned while she was Doctor’s office manager and had gone down to a simmer after they both retired. But when Crystal threatened Doctor, she’d had to take action. After all, as office manager, she’d known everything he did. Both their reputations would be ruined, and they might even go to prison.

  She glanced at the clock. Too early for a drink, really. But what was she going to do until she heard about Tina? Would Tina survive the night?

  Betsy took down the brandy bottle and noticed it was only a quarter full. She’d have to buy another bottle soon.

  The voice in her head was back. “You’re no good.” She wanted to scream, but she poured some brandy into an old jelly glass instead. When this was over, she’d put whatever was left in the back of the cupboard again.

  CHAPTER 36

  After Tina had been back at work on the files for about an hour, her stomach began to ache. Stress, she thought. I’m a psychologist, I should know how to handle stress.

  She stepped over to talk to Sylvia. “I’m calling it a day. I’m getting punchy from looking at all those folders.”

  Sylvia smiled. “I would too. Take it easy.”

  “You too.”

  When she arrived home, both Uncle Bob and her mother were in their rooms. She didn’t disturb them, just went to her own, took off her shoes, and lay down on the bed. So tired.

  Tina woke with a start and rushed to the bathroom, her stomach heaving. She made it just in time to throw up all her lunch. Weak, she sank to the floor and moaned. Mommy, she thought. I want my mommy. When her stomach calmed down, she stood up, ran cold water over a washcloth and rubbed her face with it.

  Back in bed, she debated getting her mother. But she felt too weak, too tired. She drifted off to sleep again.

  She awoke to someone shaking her shoulder. When she opened her eyes, she saw Laura standing there. “You all right? You threw up?”

  “How’d you know?” Tina asked groggily.

  Laura wrinkled her nose. “I can smell it. You didn’t open a window.”

  “Oh. Oh!” Tina jumped up and rushed to the toilet again. This time when she was finished, she was so weak her mother had to help her back to bed.

  Laura brought her a cold washcloth, and Tina ran it over her face a few times.

  “Must be the flu,” Tina said. She curled herself into a ball, clutching her stomach.

  “You need to see a doctor.” Laura stood with her hands on her hips, frowning.

  “Well, he’ll have to come here, ‘cause I’m not moving,” Tina said with as much spirit as she could.

  Laura shrugged and left the room.

  So much for wanting her mommy, Tina thought. At least Laura’d helped her back to bed and given her a washcloth. That was something, she supposed.

  She drifted off again, woke again at a touch on her shoulder.

  This time, Hank stood there. “Whew, Red, you’ve been sick. The flu?”

  “I guess,” Tina said. “You come up the trellis?” She was sure Laura wouldn’t have let him in.

  “Yeah.” He grinned. “Good thing they made them so sturdy long ago. I brought you another gun. After what happened to Rachel and Nicky, I thought you should have one.”

  Tina nodded, too tired to care. But then she stirred. “You’re not watching Nicky.”

  “Don’t worry. He went home. Other guy is watching them both now. Rach will call me if they separate, but they’ll probably stay in for a few days. I told them I’d bring them anything they need.”

  “Good,” Tina said, relaxing back onto her pillow. Should have known old Hank would have it covered.

  He leaned over her. She wondered how bad she smelled but couldn’t do anything about it. “Carry this all the time. And if you throw up again, get to the hospital. Okay?”

  “Sure,” she said and drifted off again.

  When she woke, she wondered if she’d been dreaming about Hank. No sign of the gun. She sat up, took a deep breath. No nausea. Another deep breath. Swung her legs over the edge of the bed. A bit of dizziness that passed while she stayed there. Cautiously, she stood. Her purse was on the chair where she’d left it. Inside, she found the gun.

  In the bathroom, she washed her face again. Wanted a shower badly but decided against it. Too weak, might faint.

  As she climbed back in bed, Laura came in with a tray.

  “Tea and toast,” she said.

  “No Jell-O? I was hoping for Jell-O.”

  “Maybe later.” Laura smiled. “You’re feeling better.”

  “Yes, I think it’s all over. Must have picked up the flu either at Ted’s office or the hospital.”

  “Probably.” Her mother set the tray down on the nightstand, then moved Tina’s purse to sit in the chair. “This is heavy—what have you got in here?” She opened the flap and saw the gun lying on top of everything. “Oh. Hank’s been here, has he?”

  Tina laughed. “Yeah, Mom. We made wild, passionate love. Very romantic. I almost barfed all over him.”

  Laura stiffened. “Don’t be vulgar, Tina. It’s not becoming.”

  “Do you even know what Hank does for a living?” Tina asked.

  “Of course,” Laura said. “He’s an undercover police officer.” Her mouth twisted with distaste.

  Tina almost dropped her teacup. “What?”

  “You didn’t know?” Laura looked astonished. “I thought you knew. I thought that was some of the attraction. The danger, the secrecy.”

  Well, no.
The attraction hadn’t been that Hank was in danger, Tina realized. It had always been that Hank himself seemed dangerous. “Does everyone know?”

  “Of course not. The fewer people who know, the safer he is.”

  “Who told you, then?”

  “Mitzi. She worries about him. He’s all she has left.”

  Tina didn’t know what to think, what to feel. “I’ve been away too long,” she said.

  “Yes,” Laura replied.

  Tina drank the last sip of tea. “One secret out of the way. I don’t suppose you’ll tell me another?”

  “I think you’ve had enough shocks to your system for one day,” Laura said. She took the tray and headed to the door. “Rest. I’m sure you’ll feel better in the morning. I talked to Uncle Bob, and we both agreed that it would be best he not see you in his weakened state. We don’t want him back in the hospital.”

  “No,” Tina said. “He should stay away.” When her mother left, Tina hunkered down under the covers, her mind whirling. It took her a long time to go to sleep.

  CHAPTER 37

  The next morning Tina made it downstairs, feeling weak and a bit disoriented. She heard Princess’s tail thumping before she entered the kitchen. Uncle Bob was reading the sports section. Princess stood up and put her chin on his knee. He looked up, saw Tina, and grinned.

  “There you are! You had your mother worried yesterday.”

  “I’m fine,” Tina said. “How are you?”

  “Fit as a flapjack.”

  “A flapjack?” Tina laughed. “Why a flapjack?”

  “Funnier than a fiddle.”

  “That’s for sure.” Tina walked over to the counter to pour herself a cup of coffee. As she did, she had an inspiration. She grabbed the phone book at the end of the counter, then sat down opposite Uncle Bob.

  “Do you know where Dr. Stevenson’s house is out in Portsmouth?” she asked.

  “Who?”

  “Dr. Stevenson—the doctor we used to go to.”

  “Oh, yes. He moved to his summer cottage after he sold the practice to Ted. Let’s see if I remember. Almost out to Island Park. Yes.” He gave her directions, then a shrewd look. “You going to ask him about the secret?”

 

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