My heart skipped a beat. This could only mean bad news. “Hi, Steven.” I plopped into a chair and waited for the blow.
“Don’t sound so worried, Nicky. The police want you to help them.”
Had I just heard right? “They want me to help them? Ha! By doing what? Pleading no contest?”
Steven chuckled. “Nothing like that. What they would like is for you to go through all of Rob’s belongings to see if anything’s missing. I also have a list of the items from his suitcase. They want you to take a look at it, and see if anything strikes you as odd.”
“Sure,” I said. “But why?”
“I think they might be considering other motives.”
“Like what?”
“They haven’t shared that with me, but as long as they have an open mind, it means they’re not focusing their investigation solely on you.”
“Does that mean I’m off the hook?”
“As I’ve said before, I think it’s still premature to hope for that. You’ll be under suspicion until they find the real killer.”
What if they never found the killer? Would I live the rest of my life with people looking at me sideways? Or worse, was I going to spend the rest of my life in jail?
“What’s your email address?” Steven asked, interrupting my dismal thoughts.
I rattled it off to him, and as soon as he hung up I raced upstairs and turned on my computer. I had twelve new messages. I clicked on Steven’s and opened the attachment. I tore it out of the printer and skimmed through the list as I headed back downstairs.
Clothes, underwear, pajamas. There was nothing odd about any of that. It almost read like a weekend travel list…but not quite. No shirts, no pants. Had Rob thought he’d be back in a few days? That I’d be willing to take him back? How damned arrogant of him! Hold on. Was I supposed to be furious at him or touched that he’d wanted me so badly?
Back in the kitchen I poured myself a mug of coffee and was reaching for the cream when Mona’s words flashed back in my mind. She’d called me fatso. Bitch! I put the cream back and used milk instead. Now where was I before Steven called? Toni. I grabbed the phone and punched in her number.
“Hello,” she answered, and relief flooded through me.
“I’m so glad I caught you.” Then I realized how sleepy she sounded. “Did I wake you?”
“You sure did,” she answered through a yawn.
“Oh. Are you with a man?” I whispered.
“I was,” she replied languidly, “and then you woke me up.” I heard her moving about, then, “Fuck! It’s only seven,” she exclaimed. “Why the hell are you calling me this early?”
“Weren’t you supposed to intercept Mona this morning?”
“Oh, that.” Pause. When she spoke again, she didn’t even sound embarrassed. “Well, I’ve been thinking. It really would be much better if you speak to her. Think about it. I’m just a stranger to her. At least she knows you.”
“I don’t believe this. You—”
“Okay, okay,” she interrupted. “I’ll go tonight. Don’t make such a big deal about it. I overslept, that’s all.”
I wasn’t one bit mollified and considered not telling her about my encounter with Mona. She certainly deserved it. But—oh hell—I could never stay angry with her. “Never mind,” I capitulated. “You don’t have to do that. I already confronted her myself last night.”
Now she sounded wide awake. “You did? Tell me everything.”
“Well…” I launched into my story.
When I finished, Toni was flabbergasted. “You mean she just went into your purse and took it?”
“She did. And she called me fatso.”
“Who gives a shit what she called you? We already know the woman’s a bitch.”
“Toni, I have to get that tape back.”
“Uh-oh. I don’t like the sound of that. If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, you’re certifiable. That would be breaking and entering.”
“Oh, don’t be such a wimp,” I said impatiently.
“No. Absolutely not. Besides, she must’ve destroyed the tape by now.” Her intonation made me feel like a three-year-old.
“We won’t know that until we’ve searched,” I said frantically. “Toni, I have to prove somebody else killed him.”
“You could go to jail for this.”
“I’m doing this to keep me out of jail. We know Mona’s shifts are from eleven till seven. That gives me an eight-hour window to get into her place.”
“You can’t be serious. Even if I went along with this goofball idea of yours—which I won’t—”
“I wasn’t asking you to come along.” I paused. “The only problem is, I don’t even know where she lives.”
“Nicky, get out of the Dark Ages. Haven’t you ever heard of online 411?” There was new determination in her voice as she continued. “And by the way, what do you mean I’m not invited? I’m coming along and that’s final.”
“Oh, so the minute I tell you that I don’t need you, you want to come along. That is just so like you.”
She ignored that comment and continued. “How do you propose we get in? We’re chefs, not robbers. We can’t pry a door open with a crowbar or throw a brick through a window.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I would never do anything violent. Everyone leaves a key outside. All we have to do is find it. Getting my hands on that tape could make the difference between going free or spending the rest of my life in jail.”
There was a long pause before she answered. “I guess your idea isn’t so crazy after all. So when do you think we should do this?”
There was no point in arguing that I’d do this alone. I knew my friend. No was not in her vocabulary. “Tonight. The longer we wait, the more time she’ll have to get rid of the tape.” I admit, I knew my scheme was a bit mad. But in my defense, the prospect of going to jail scared me to death. “We’ll head for Mona’s at midnight.”
“We’ll have to wear all black,” Toni said enthusiastically. “I’m starting lo like the idea.”
A picture of me in a cat-burglar outfit flashed through my mind. Ugh. I was about to hang up when I remembered the favor I’d wanted. “Would you mind if we switched cars this afternoon? I have some boxes to drop by Mrs. Grant’s. They won’t fit in my car.”
A couple of hours later, Toni was at my place handing me the keys to her new BMW. In exchange, she got my secondhand smart car. I liked the trade.
“Have fun,” I called out to her as she started the motor.
“Where the heck is the clutch?” she yelled through the open window.
“There is no clutch. Pull the gear shift back for reverse and push it forward to drive.”
She grimaced. “This isn’t a car, it’s a golf cart.” Before I could give her the finger, she was zooming away.
the man with the least insurance always dies first
The boxes were ready to load into the BMW, but first I had to pull everything out. I shouldn’t have agreed to help the police. This was a complete waste of time. I’d packed everything in those boxes myself. If there’d been anything out of the ordinary, anything at all, I would have noticed it.
I had just opened one of the boxes when the doorbell rang. “What now?” I grumbled. I tore open the door to find Kim standing there with Charlie at her feet.
“Hey, Nicky, I was just about to go walk Charlie through the park, when I thought, why not ask Nicky to come along with Jackie?”
I suppressed a sigh. “Sorry, Kim. The police just asked me to go through all of Rob’s stuff.” I gestured toward the boxes behind me. “I’ll be busy for hours.”
Kim was craning her neck, trying to see behind me. “Why don’t you let me help? We can go twice as fast with two people.” She moved, as if to step
over the threshold, but I stayed put.
“I’m sorry, Kim, but I’m really not in the mood for company right now. We’ll get together another time.” Before she could say anything, I closed the door.
Was it my imagination or had she seemed inordinately eager to help me sort through Rob’s stuff? The more I thought about it, the more Kim’s behavior was strange—and had been strange for a long time.
I tackled the first of the boxes—shorts, socks and T-shirts. I unfolded each garment on the off chance I’d missed something. Forty minutes later all I’d found were a few coins and a five-dollar bill.
* * *
I pulled into Mrs. Grant’s driveway with a carload of Rob’s things. Mrs. Grant opened the door. I wondered if she was as full of misgivings as I was.
“Come on in, Nicky,” she said, moving aside to let me by.
“Let me bring in all the boxes.”
When I finished, we walked past the boxes stacked against the living room wall and went into the kitchen.
“It’s such a beautiful day, why don’t we sit outside?” she suggested. “Would you like some lemonade?”
She handed me the tray of drinks. “I have some recent pictures of Rob. Would you like to see them?”
Without waiting for an answer, she brought out an album and I followed her out. We settled on rattan chairs in a lovely patio area. I looked around as I sipped my lemonade. The yard was narrow but surprisingly long, and separated into two distinct areas. The first, where Mrs. Grant and I sat, was an outdoor dining area with a gas barbeque, a table with a sunbrella and chairs. Farther back was a wonderful oasis complete with shrubs and flowers, a small pond and garden benches.
“You’re looking at my secret garden,” she said.
“Secret garden?” I asked. “Actually, that’s exactly what it looks like. It’s lovely.”
She grew quiet for a moment, and when she spoke again, it was with a catch in her voice. “That’s where my husband is, you know. And that’s where Rob will be too—just as soon as the police release his body.”
I turned and looked at her. “Do you mean…?”
“Yes. That’s where I scattered my husband’s ashes. I can sit here anytime and feel him close by.” She opened the album, sighing. “Here he is in high school. He always was wonderful at sports.”
I leaned in and looked at a picture of Rob in a football uniform. My throat tightened.
“And here he is at graduation,” she said, pointing a photo that had been on display at the memorial service. She turned the page to a shot of Rob dressed in his hospital scrubs, and began to cry softly. “Nicole…there’s something I need to tell you. I—I never told anyone about this,” she confided, closing the album. She seemed troubled. “Robert had a drug problem before he met you.”
I gasped. “Drugs? I had no idea.” My head was spinning.
“It didn’t last very long,” she said, hesitating. “It was during his internship. He’d hurt his back in a football accident, and the pain never went away.”
Rob had once mentioned an old back injury, but I’d never known him to take anything stronger than aspirin. Then I remembered the pills under the sink. Oh, God.
“As a resident, he had easy access to painkillers.” She shook her head sadly. “He was helping himself to hospital medicine. A fellow intern found him out and forced Rob to get the help he needed.” She thought for a moment. “Harry. That was his name, Harry Johnson.”
Harry? Rob’s friend? Mona’s date the night of the party? I felt sick. How could I have forgotten about those pills? Could they have been some kind of drug? Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to search Mona’s apartment.
Mrs. Grant looked exhausted. “I should leave,” I said.
She rose slowly and walked me through the house and to the front door. “I wonder,” she said in a weary voice. “Maybe Robert started taking drugs again, and maybe his death had something to do with that.”
My thoughts exactly.
* * *
On the way home, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Mrs. Grant had just told me. Harry had known about Rob’s drug problem. Rob, Mona and Harry. Could the three of them have been part of a drug ring? Another thought, however, kept intruding. Charles had displayed symptoms that could be caused by a drug problem. Could he have something to do with Rob’s death? That idea was almost too horrible to contemplate—much worse than suspecting Kim. Could someone that close to me be responsible for the murder?
I was so lost in my thoughts that I managed to take not one, but two wrong turns that took me a good twenty minutes out of my way. “Only you,” as Toni would have said.
I pulled into my parking spot, rushed out of the car and into the house without so much as a glance at Jackie. I took the stairs two at a time and crouched in front of the vanity. I frantically pulled out Comet, cotton balls, a first aid kit, my cosmetics bag. Soon the bathroom floor was covered, but no brown leather bag. What the heck? It hadn’t been in the boxes I’d given Mrs. Grant, and it wasn’t on the list of items the police had given me.
The murderer must have taken it.
My impulse was to call Steven. I was dialing his number when I wondered if this could be evidence against me. Maybe I should wait before telling anyone. I put the phone down, let Jackie out for a quick pee and left for Skinny’s.
* * *
I walked into the dark kitchen and switched on the light. There, under a glowing bulb, was a bare-chested Jake wearing, of all things, Toni’s marabou-trimmed, opera-length rubber gloves. He and blond Rastafarian Boy, Marley, were wrapped in a passionate embrace. And, shock of all shocks, Rastafarian Boy wasn’t plugged in to his iPod. But given another few minutes, he might have been plugged into Jake.
As stunned as I was, it was nothing compared to Jake and Marley’s reactions. They sprang apart and began spluttering apologies as they fumbled with belt buckles and zippers.
“Argh!” I slapped a hand over my eyes and stumbled my way out to the dining room.
Two minutes later, a sheepish-looking Jake stood stammering before me. “Nicky, I—I’m really sorry. Nothing like this…I swear, it’ll never happen again. We—we got carried away.”
I took pity on him. “What you do on your own time is your business. But please,” I continued in my sternest voice, “not in this restaurant. And even more important, Jake, don’t ever, ever wear Toni’s gloves again.”
Jake managed a weak laugh.
I pulled back a chair and flopped into it. “So that’s that. Incident forgotten.” I had so much on my mind right now; the least of my worries was Jake’s love life.
Slowly Jake’s blush receded, but he remained there with a worried look on his face. “There’s something I should tell you.”
Uh-oh. I cringed. That had the unmistakable sound of bad news.
“The night of the party, Marley and I decided to hook up afterward. We didn’t want anyone here to find out about—you know—us.”
“Go on.”
“I left first and waited in my car a couple of blocks from here.”
I wondered if… “Where, exactly?” I asked, suddenly intense.
“At the corner of Queen and Gore Vale.” Just two blocks away, and directly on the way to my house.
“And?”
“And when Marley joined me, we parked there for a while.” I got a mental image of steamy car windows. Jake continued, “That’s when I saw your boyfriend walking home.”
“You saw him? Was he with anyone?” I held my breath.
He nodded. “He was walking by himself, and then someone called out to him. The guy caught up, and they walked on together.”
A man? I was stunned. Harry? Charles? “What did he look like?”
“I never saw his face, but I could tell he was shorter than Rob. Oh, and he was real
ly skinny.”
Hold on. “Are you sure it was a man?”
He shrugged. “I guess not. I mean, whoever it was, was wearing jeans and a baseball cap. I guess that could be anybody.”
So it could just as easily been Mona. My eyes filled with tears. Holy shit. This is it! It hardly mattered that Jake couldn’t identify the person. He was the witness I needed to prove I wasn’t the last person to see Rob alive. “Would you mind telling the police what you just told me?”
“I already did.”
“You spoke to the police?”
“Yes, they contacted us—Marley, Scott, Charles and me.”
“What?” The police had questioned my staff? “When?”
“Some cop came by on Tuesday and took down our names and phone numbers. Then he called me at home and I had to go answer questions at the station.”
“What did they want to know?” I asked.
He thought before answering. “They asked if I knew of problems between you and Rob and if you have a temper. I told them I never met Rob before that night and that you’re the nicest boss I’ve ever had. They tried to make me say that the person I saw walking with Rob could have been you. But there was no way. I knew you were still at the restaurant. Besides, that person was thin and you’re…”
Before he could find some kind way of saying I was fat, I leaned over and gave him a big smack on the cheek. “Jake, have I ever told you I love you?” This seemed to embarrass him more than my catching them in the act. “You are my savior. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” I was so thrilled with Jake’s news that I failed to hear the door open.
“My, but isn’t this a Hallmark moment.” From the doorway, Toni was watching with an amused expression on her face. “Please don’t let me interrupt.”
I jumped up. “Toni, you won’t believe this. Jake saw somebody walking home with Rob the night of the party. That means the police will have to believe I’m innocent.” I threw my arms around her.
“Was it Mona?” She sounded worried.
Jake shook his head. “I couldn’t tell who it was, but it was definitely not Nicky.”
Toni let out a whoop. “That’s great. Have you told Steven yet?”
Getting Skinny Page 13