He followed me and grabbed my arm so roughly that I nearly dropped the glass. “What the hell are you talking about? What about our marriage?”
I put the glass down and faced him. “Marilyn Sanders talked to me today after lunch. You remember Marilyn, don’t you? She worked for Dr. Shore. She teaches at the college now, in the nursing program.”
Dr. Shore being the surgeon who was murdered three years ago.
“Toni. Sweetheart. Please get to the point.”
“She said it was nice to see us together again.”
Hal looked bewildered. “I don’t understand.”
“Don’t you? Want me to explain?”
Hal went to the cupboard and grabbed another glass. Then he went to the bar and snagged the scotch. He poured two fingers into his glass and held it over mine. “Want some?”
“Please,” I said, and he sloshed the same amount into mine.
We sat at the kitchen table and toasted each other silently, as we had done every night for the last seventeen years. My eyes filled with tears, and I took a sip of my scotch in an attempt to disguise the fact. Hal took a healthy swig of his scotch, swallowed, and grimaced. “Now. What is this all about?”
“Marilyn said she’s seen you with a girl. Tall, slender, long blonde hair. She said you kissed said girl. That’s what this is all about.”
His answer nearly made me choke on my scotch. “Yes. I was. And I did.”
Oh God. He admitted it! Somehow, I had held out hope that I’d been wrong about this. And now, Hal had admitted to having an affair. My heart plummeted right into my stomach. I put my head down on the kitchen table and wept.
Hal reached over and stroked my hair. “Toni, honey, please. Tell me.”
“I didn’t want a divorce,” I sobbed. “And now I’ve got to have one anyway.”
“What the fucking hell are you saying? Why do you have to have a divorce?”
“Because you’re having an affair!” I wailed. “You just admitted it! Now I have to divorce you. And I don’t want to. I love you so much, and you betrayed me. Oh God, oh God,” I sobbed, holding on to my stomach, “I can’t believe how much this hurts.”
Hal pulled his chair around until he was sitting next to me. He put his arms around me and pulled me to him. I struggled. He pulled harder. “Toni, my dearest love, please stop that caterwauling and listen to me.” He shook me gently. “Are you listening?”
I gently detached myself and blew my nose. “Okay.”
Hal pulled me back into his arms. “I have a lab assistant. She just happens to be tall, blonde, and gorgeous. She also happens to be the best qualified of all the students that applied for the job. You would not believe the razzing I have to endure every day because of her looks. She gets razzed too. Everybody thinks we’re having an affair, because how could any red-blooded male resist such a beautiful blonde bombshell? But we’re not.”
I turned to face him. “Then what about the kissing?”
“Oh, that.”
“Yes, that. What about that?”
Hal sighed. “Well. Her boyfriend thought we were having an affair too. He broke up with her. I tried to comfort her. I guess no good deed goes unpunished.”
“Marilyn said she saw you kiss her on the lips.”
“Yeah.” Hal took my face between his palms and gave me a quick peck on the lips. “Like that.”
“Oh. So you really aren’t having an affair?”
He put my head on his chest and kissed the top of my head. “No, my dearest love, I’m not. And I never will.”
Well, then, of course I started blubbering again, only this time with joy. Hal pushed a tissue into my hand. “Toni, my darling, please stop crying. We have a party to go to.”
It took me a while to pull myself together. Getting dressed was no problem, but my face was a mess. My eyelids were so puffy that my eyes were merely slits. For a while I thought I’d have to wear shades to the party.
We were late. They were already getting ready to serve dinner when we finally got down to the country club. We were seated at a large, round table with two of Hal’s colleagues in the chemistry department, and their wives, whom I knew slightly. The professors were about Hal’s age but looked older, balding and paunchy. They laughed and joked, and I started to feel better within the first five minutes. Nobody seemed to notice my puffy eyes.
Their wives could be counted on to begin quizzing me at any time about why we didn’t have children. I knew that children are of major importance to Mormons, Catholics, and Jews alike, but as none of the above, I didn’t intend to apologize to anyone for my lack of fecundity.
I wished for someone like Elliott, who could liven things up with his freakin’ this and freakin’ that, to show up and put us out of our misery, and no sooner had that thought materialized in my head than another couple joined us and filled the two empty chairs. The man was tall and portly with a head like a billiard ball. I found the glare off it from the chandeliers blinding. Did he wax it or what? He clapped Hal on the back as he pulled out his chair and that of his wife, who was right behind him.
“Shapiro, as I live and breathe!” he boomed, causing every head in the room to turn. “Who’s that gorgeous little blonde I saw you with at lunch the other day?”
Jesus. One should be careful what one wishes for.
Hal reddened but kept his cool. “This is my wife, Toni,” he said, standing and shaking the other man’s hand. “Honey, this is Gary Sanders from the math department, and his wife …”
“Marilyn,” I finished as I got my first good look at her. She was muttering something to her husband that sounded like “Ixnay, ixnay,” and then she cast a commiserating glance in my direction.
“Dr. Day, Dr. Shapiro, how nice to see both of you here,” she said a little pointedly. “Or should I be calling both of you Dr. Shapiro?”
“Dr. Day,” I said. “I go by my maiden name, since Hal has a PhD and is a doctor too. It’s a little confusing to have two Dr. Shapiros in the same household.”
“Aw, come on, honey, don’t be such a wet blanket!” her husband bellowed. “No need to be so damn formal. It’s Hal and Toni, and we’re Gary and Marilyn, okay?”
I think everybody in the room now knew who the four of us were, as well as the guys outside doing the valet parking. Whether or not they were okay with it was another thing. The other two couples murmured uncomfortably among themselves and tried to distance themselves from us while still seated in their chairs. I felt pretty uncomfortable myself and was just wondering if there was anything I could possibly do or say to make this moment less embarrassing, when the band started up, and Hal pulled me to my feet.
“Come on, honey, let’s not let the music go to waste,” he said, leading me out onto the dance floor. The music in question at the moment was Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Proud Mary.”
“Hal,” I muttered sotto voce, “this is a fast one. You don’t like fast ones.”
“I like ’em better than sitting there having my business broadcast all over the room,” he growled.
We stayed out on the floor for the next two numbers until dinner was served. I hoped that the food would keep Gary Sanders quiet for a while, since he looked like the type who would just shovel it in; but as luck would have it, the man was trying to diet and ate very little, giving him ample opportunity to embarrass us further.
“Just trying to shed a few pounds,” he explained in answer to a question from one of the other wives, which I couldn’t hear. He had turned down the volume considerably, probably to appease Marilyn, who was no doubt as embarrassed as I was, having just told me that day about Hal’s gorgeous little blonde. “The doc told me if I didn’t get my weight down, I was gonna have a major heart attack. He said my cholesterol’s through the roof, and so’s my blood pressure,” he went on. “Hell, maybe
if I get rid of this spare tire,” he continued, turning up the volume to almost its original level, “I’ll have the girls all over me like Shapiro does. Har har!”
Hal seemed to swell visibly, and I knew he was gritting his teeth. I could practically hear them grinding. I noticed that everybody was staring at us again, and I also noticed that although Gary was eating like a bird, he was sure as hell not drinking like one.
“Honey, please keep it down,” Marilyn said. “You’re embarrassing all of us, and people are staring.”
“So what?” Gary returned. “Hey!” he shouted, waving at the closest waiter. “More wine over here!”
“I think you’ve had enough, dear,” Marilyn said with asperity.
“Aw, honey, you’re no fun,” he complained. “Ever since she started teaching, she’s been acting like a prissy old schoolmarm. So whatta you do, Toni?” He was beginning to slur his words.
Marilyn answered before I had a chance to. “I told you she’s a doctor, dear.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right, she’s a doctor,” he roared. “Har har! I bet she makes a helluva lot more money than you do, Shapiro!”
Wrong thing to say. That subject was guaranteed to piss Hal off.
He stood up. “Sanders,” he said quietly. “Outside. Now.”
Gary stared up at him blearily. “Huh?”
“I said, outside. Now.” Hal grabbed the man’s arm and hoisted him out of his chair. He made it look effortless too. Once on his feet, Gary went meekly enough, but as the two men approached the outside door, he let loose with one more blast.
“So whatta ya gonna do, Shapiro, punch me inna nose? Avenge the little lady’s honor? Hah? Yeah, she’s little, but I bet she’s a tiger in the sack, hah? Or maybe she’s not, eh? Is that why …”
The doors mercifully cut off any further diatribe. Marilyn stared at me, her eyes wide. “Doctor, I’m so sorry! Gary’s not usually like this. I don’t know what got into him. What’s Hal going to do to him?”
“I have no idea,” I said honestly. “This has never happened before. Shall we go find out?”
Marilyn said, “Oh, I don’t know … Do you really think we should?”
I stood up. “Come on,” I urged. “You’re going to want to get him home now anyway, aren’t you?”
“I guess so,” she murmured. “Oh dear, oh dear.”
She grabbed her purse and their coats and came with me, no doubt dreading the worst, as I was; but when I opened the door, the sight that greeted our eyes was Gary, braced against a tree, puking his guts out. Hal stood next to him with a hand on his shoulder.
“I think you need to go home, buddy,” I heard him say. “Do you want me to go get Marilyn?”
“I’m here,” Marilyn said. “Gary, honey? Are you finished?”
Gary straightened up, fished a handkerchief out of his pocket, and blew his nose loudly. “Yeah, I think so,” he mumbled.
Marilyn took his arm and turned him in the general direction of the parking lot. “Then let’s go home,” she said soothingly.
“Do you need any help?” Hal asked.
“No,” she replied. “He’ll be all right now.”
“Jesus,” said Hal, putting an arm around me.
When I felt the warmth of his body, I realized that I was freezing. “Let’s get back inside,” I suggested. “Or do you want to go home too?”
“Not on your life,” Hal said. “I want to go in there and dance my feet off with my little lady.” I looked up into his face, and he kissed me gently. “And you are a tiger in the sack, by the way,” he added. “Just so you know.”
Hal doesn’t usually like to dance that much, but on that night he kept me on the floor until the band took its break. Then, after having much more fun than was good for either of us on a week night, we went home.
I expected to go right to bed, but Hal was wide awake and suggested I pour us each a little nip of Drambuie while he got a fire going. We cuddled on the couch, sipping our drinks and watching the flames dancing.
“I wonder if he gets like that often?” I wondered sleepily, and Hal knew exactly who I was talking about.
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” he said. “I got the impression that Marilyn has handled that situation before a time or two. So,” he continued tenderly, his lips brushing mine, “do you really want to talk?”
Well, no, not really, now that you mention it.
We made love on the couch in the firelight, and by the time we actually got to bed, it was one-thirty in the morning.
Now that Hal had relieved my mind about whether or not he was having an affair and explained what had been bothering him since school started, I expected to sleep very well indeed.
Then I could concentrate on finding out why both Jay’s office and Jay’s widow’s house had burned down. It had to be more than a coincidence.
Tuesday, December 16
Chapter 14
She hugg’d the offender, and forgave the offence:
Sex to the last.
—John Dryden
A frozen section was already waiting for me when I got to work, and I had to deal with it before I had a chance to hang up my coat or put my purse away. I hate it when that happens; it makes me feel used and abused. Someone could just walk into my office and steal my purse while I was tied up doing a frozen section. That really would add insult to injury.
I dumped both into my chair and went across the hall, and that set the tone for the whole morning: one frozen section after another until I felt like I was tied to the cryostat with not nearly enough hands.
Bernie Kincaid called me at work and offered to take me to lunch. Since I wasn’t expecting Hal, I accepted and got Mike to cover for me. I had to eat, after all, and we’d be in a public place where there’d be no funny business, or so I thought. And maybe I could find out something about the fires.
Bernie had other ideas, however. The dingy bar he took me to in the industrial part of Twin Falls was so dark inside that I could barely make out the other patrons sitting in candlelit, intimate booths. We had a candlelit, intimate booth of our own in a corner where nobody sitting in any of the other booths could see us. It was, as Flip Wilson used to say, the booth in the back in the corner in the dark.
I wouldn’t have minded his choice of venue so much before Hal and I had had our big reconciliation; but since we had, I felt a little uncomfortable. However, I figured I could take care of myself if I had to. I could do my Nancy Reagan impression. Just Say No.
“None of the other cops eat here,” Bernie assured me. “When I first came up here, before the divorce was final, I used to come in here at night and get plastered. Then it began to interfere with my work, and Ray told me to shape up or ship out. So I quit coming in here. This is a perfect place to come if you don’t want to run into anybody you know.”
The Ray he referred to was Commander Ray Harris, whom I knew.
“Okay,” I said. “And we don’t want to run into somebody we know because …?”
“Because we don’t want anyone to think we’re having an affair.”
“And we don’t want to do that, do we?” I said. “Because we’re just two friends having lunch and talking about murder.”
“You’d rather talk about murder?” At this point it looked as though lunch would be over before it began. The waitress arrived and took our order. When she was gone, Bernie reached across the table and took both my hands in his. “Toni,” he said softly, “I want you.”
I sighed and withdrew my hands. “You know that’s out of the question. I want to talk about arson.”
“I thought you wanted to talk about murder,” he countered.
“I do, but the only one who’s been murdered so far is Jay Braithwaite Burke. And since then, Kathleen Burke’s house and Jay’s office have burned down. So now
I want to talk about arson.”
He sighed and assumed a businesslike demeanor. “The person you need to talk to is Roy Cobb over at the fire department.”
“Would he talk to me? I mean, you guys talk to me, but you already know me. Nobody in the fire department knows me.”
“Well, that’s easily fixed.” He hauled out his cell phone and pressed a button. “Hey. Roy Cobb around? Good. Hey, buddy. Bernie Kincaid here. What can you tell me about the fires at 202 Montana Street and 815 Shoshone Street North?”
He listened, while I thought, Jeez, I wish this guy was telling me this stuff. Bernie could suppress something if he wanted to and I’d never know. But who the hell am I to be accusing anybody of suppressing information. I’m not a police officer, just a civilian busybody.
“Huh. How about that,” he said. “So does that mean the same person set both fires?” I thought, Hey, I was right. It is arson. Then he said, “Thanks, buddy, talk to you later.” He hung up and looked at me triumphantly.
“Well?”
“He says both fires are arson. They found an empty gasoline can at both fires with the cap off.”
“No chance of that being a coincidence?”
“Gasoline was the accelerant in both fires.”
“Well,” I said, “I gotta admit, even to me that sounds like arson.”
“Roy says it is,” Bernie said. “He should know. He’s been in this business for twenty years.”
“Does he think the same person set both fires?”
“He can’t rule it out. If we have any luck getting fingerprints off the cans or the caps, we’ll know for sure.”
“Okay,” I said. “Here’s another question. Do you know about Jay Braithwaite Burke’s two wills?”
“Two wills?”
“Lance Brooks, his partner, drew up one that had Kathleen and the kids as beneficiaries, way back when Jay’s son Bryan was born. But Elliott Maynard drew up one last summer that had all these trusts, benefiting not only Kathleen and the kids, but several other women and their children. Most of those women are divorced from their husbands and all of them have had a child by Jay. And all of the ex-husbands were involved in that Ponzi scheme Jay set up back in the day.”
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