Charleston with a Clever Cougar: A Dance with Danger Mystery #6

by Barton, Sara M.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do without him.” Carole’s mouth trembled as the tears welled up. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  “Oh, dear.” I put down the pastry bag and led her to my office. I led her to my chair and sat her down. “You’re going to do what you have to do as a parent, to get Daisy ready for college. And you’re going to keep Dylan engaged in his school work and his sports. And you’re going to get yourself out of the house and back into your social circle. You’ll do it one step at a time, one foot in front of the other. You’ll survive this. You may not like the way it is, Carole. You may miss the hell out of Doug. But you’ll live through this horrible time.”

  The shop bell tinkled and I knew someone had entered, so I patted her hand before leaving to attend to customers. Five minutes later, I was back. Her eyes were red and she was blowing her nose.

  “Carole,” I said as soothingly as possible, “know what I think? I think you were so sick with the cancer and the chemo, you never properly ended your marriage. Is that possible?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Everything kind of got shoved to the side because you were so nauseated and weak. You just didn’t have it in you to handle the divorce, other than in little bits and pieces. Maybe it’s all catching up to you now because this is the first time in almost two and a half years that you’re finally feeling better.” There was a look in her eyes that suggested I hit a nerve.

  “I never cried when Doug left me. I just rolled over and went back to sleep. That’s all I wanted to do.”

  “And now you have men paying attention to you again. They think you’re attractive. Maybe there’s a part of you that thinks you could have kept Doug if you hadn’t had that cancer.”

  “Maybe. I know he didn’t like the scars.”

  Don’t ask me why I said it. As soon as I did, I thought it was an idiotic thing to say to someone looking for that little piece of straw to cling to, that fleeting sense of hope.

  “Maybe it wasn’t that Doug didn’t like the scars, Carole. Maybe he was scared about what they really meant.” Oh, I was so mad at myself for giving that rat an excuse for leaving my friend. But I didn’t want her to think that the loss of her sex appeal was what drove that jerk away. I wanted her to think it was the bigger issue of cancer. “That he might lose you.”

  “So, what are you saying? He went out and replaced me before I died?” There was a sharpness in Carole’s tone as she took exception to my remark. We both gazed at each other like sisters, united in our fight against masculine stupidity. “Oh, my God! That’s exactly what he did. That bastard got out while the getting was good. He couldn’t stand the thought of me lingering, so he reinvented his life!”

  Watching her, I knew she had finally hit the nail on the head. And because her aim was so accurate, she managed to fix what really ailed her. The why of Doug’s leaving. In that moment of clarity, my friend realized there was nothing she could have done differently. Doug would have left anyway. It was all about his inability to handle his own fears.

  “All this time....” A sense of wonder crept into her voice. “I’ve been beating myself up. I’ve been thinking that I drove him away, my scars drove him away.”

  “Real men don’t leave,” I told her. It was true. Roger didn’t leave my mother. He was dedicated to her to the end. But Allen left Aunt Pinkie in the lurch over and over again. He faltered because he just couldn’t quite commit to her whole-heartedly. That’s really what love was all about, wasn’t it? You signed on for the duration, and when the going got tough, you worked harder to find the solutions. You didn’t quit. You didn’t go out and have an affair. You didn’t leave your dying wife or your kids in search of a better life for yourself. Doc would never do that, any more than he would tolerate a lover who would. Doc was genuine. There was no guessing about how he felt. He was blunt, but he knew how he felt and he knew he was willing to do battle for what he believed in. Doug walked away from a good woman and two good kids, not because they did anything wrong, but because he put himself first. Carole finally saw the light. Maybe it was the last stage of really healing from all the hurt. Maybe it was the part where she could finally forgive herself for so vulnerable. So human.

  Carole leaned back in my desk chair. There was new resolve behind the eyes. It was as if she had finally come to her senses and cast off that heavy weight. What was the point of surviving cancer, of doing the battle against a powerful foe, if you were going to go under because your ex-husband was a jerk?

  “You okay?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Karl asked me out on a date. I’m going to go.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” A little smile tickled Carole’s lips into curling up at the ends. She smoothed the pattern on her skirt, put a hand up to touch her earring, and then she pushed herself away from my desk and stood up.

  “I might even buy myself a new outfit.”

  “Lovely. Just don’t fall head over heels for the guy. Make him earn it.”

  “I will. And now, if you will excuse me, I shall return to the cash register.” She flounced out of the office with a new purpose in her stride. Good for her. Carole got her groove back.

  Minutes later, Daisy arrived. She was followed into the shop by Doc, who gave me a little nod towards the kitchen. I left the teenager telling her mother all about her school day and let Doc lead the way out into the parking lot.

  “You’re not going to believe this. Mimi wants me to come down to Maryland after I get rid of Daisy and off Doug.”

  “What?”

  “Yes. And she wants me to set up Carole as the one who hired a hitman, so she can collect on the life insurance policy she just bought for Doug, because he’s the chief breadwinner now.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “And yet, I’m not. I think it’s been the plan all along. Daisy’s death is supposed to look like anything but a hit, only those two clowns screwed up.”

  “Thank God for that.”

  “Of course,” he agreed. “But I think she’s been planning to kill Doug all along. If all she’s waited for is that job with the the State Board of Ed, she’ll be able to live a nice life, Cady, with Daisy and Doug gone, especially if Carole looks like she hired someone to kill her ex-husband. Mimi will get control of Dylan and all that trust money.”

  “Unconscionable. What are you going to do about it?” I wondered. He took my hands in his, gently, tenderly. At his touch, I found myself melting, fighting the urge to just drape my aching arms around his strong neck and be done with all this nonsense. I longed to just forget about the hitman and Mimi, about Doug being such a jerk, even about the Henslacker wedding. I wanted to get on with my own life, to get the chance to know Doc. The few brief, sweet kisses we’d shared were like drops of nectar on the tongue of a woman stranded on a desert island -- they left me hungry for more. And all the while, as my body came alive at the thought of the nearness of him, I looked into those green eyes behind the thick glasses. Focus, Cady. There are more important things than love at this moment in time. Put that aside and concentrate on saving Daisy.

  “We got a good recording of all the planning she did, and the cops think they have enough for a pretty good prosecution, but this thing about hiring me to also kill Doug makes jurisdiction complicated. That’s crossing state lines, so now federal laws kick in. It might take a little while longer to really wrap this up.”

  “Oh.” I was disappointed. I admit that. I wanted Mimi in jail. I wanted Carole and the kids safe. I wanted Doug to know what he had gotten himself into because he was selfish. But I also wanted Doc free and clear of this mess, because I was ready to move on.

  “Not to worry. We’ll get through this.” He leaned in and gently kissed my cheek, just brushing past my waiting lips.

  “I hope so,” I sighed, wanting to give myself up to the tingling that effervesced in my blood.

  “I know so.”

  Chapter Thirteen --<
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  At half past five, Doc drove Daisy home to get ready for her dinner with Mimi. He returned in time to carry the lacy cake into the walk-in refrigerator. All that was left to do was add the flower sprays and bees. We would do that first thing in the morning. And then we would make the ten-minute drive to the reception site, where we would deliver the decorated cake to the display table, for all the guests to ooh and aah.

  At six, I locked up the shop and hopped into Doc’s waiting van at the curb. Just up the street, we stopped at Alforno Trattoria. The host seated us at a small table with bentwood chairs. The usual Friday crowd was chowing down on pizza and pasta. Doc and I took our time deciding what to have. Our server brought us a bottle of pinot grigio. We ordered calamari, lightly fried and served with aioli and tomato sauce, to share as a starter. I loved Doc’s way of digging in and enjoying every morsel. He kept urging me to eat, even as he stuck his fork in another tender piece. I ordered the pasta with littleneck clams in white sauce while Doc had the flounder Livornese. While we waited for our dishes to arrive, we had the house salads, served up with warm artisan bread. We talked about Italian food and wine, the Uffizi Gallery, Pompeii, and even the best ways to enjoy Italy on a budget. Doc had spent time on the Amalfi Coast as well as in Venice and Naples, and he regaled me with the highlights of his travels. I shared my opinions on the techniques of baking rustic breads and how I had always wanted to go to Lake Como. By the time we got around to dessert, Doc suggested we split a flourless chocolate ganache torte. I took a few nibbles in between sips of coffee, savoring the deep, dark chocolate on my tongue. We were just finishing up when my cell phone rang.

  “It’s Carole,” I told Doc. “I hate to do this, but in case there’s an emergency, I should answer it.”

  “Not a problem,” he reassured me.

  “Carole, what’s up?” Before my words were out of my mouth, she started talking.

  “Cady, Doug called me. He wanted to talk. You’re not going to believe this. He took the triplets and moved out of the house.”

  “What? When?”

  “Tonight. He said he was finished with Mimi. He caught her with another guy last week. They were making it in a car at the Metro station just outside Bowie. Cady, he was crying, saying that he totally screwed things up. He wants to move back to Connecticut with the babies.”

  “This is very, very important,” I said as calmly as I could. “Does Mimi know that he’s moved out?”

  “Yes. He said he called her this afternoon to tell her. She was really mad, but he said it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to put up with any more of her nonsense. Do you believe it -- she didn’t tell him she was coming to Old Saybrook to see Daisy.”

  “Hold on,” I told her, muting the phone, so I could share the news with Doc. When I got done, he instructed me to find out where Mimi and Daisy were having dinner.

  “I don’t know,” Carole admitted. “Daisy said she’d leave her phone on, in case I needed her. Does that help?”

  “Did she say what time Mimi was bringing her back?”

  “No.”

  “Well, it’s interesting about Doug, I’ll give you that. What do you think you’ll do?”

  “Honestly, Cady? I don’t have a clue. I don’t know how I feel at the moment.”

  “That’s a healthy reaction. All the more reason to take a little time and think things through. Talk to you later.”

  “Bye.” Even as Carole signed off, Doc’s phone rang.

  “Yeah?” His face went dark as he listened to his caller. “Right. Right. It has to be tonight? Well, I’m in the middle of something. That’s a change in plan. No, that’ll cost you another ten grand.”

  Our server brought the check, dropping it off with a smile and a nod, while Doug was on the phone. As I reached for the folio, he slapped my hand away, wagging his finger at me as he frowned. Then he went back to his caller.

  “Hey, you don’t want to pay? No problem. Find somebody else to do it. Your choice. No, no. That’s my fee. Take it or leave it. Non-negotiable.” With that, he hung up. A moment later, the phone buzzed again. “What? Is that right? You have the cash tonight or the deal is off.”

  Doc hung up again, looked over the bill, pulled out a credit card, and signaled our server. Before she had managed to cross the dining room to retrieve it, Doc’s phone rang again.

  “Now what?” he growled. “Fine. Where are you right now? Because I want to know. If I have to set this up for tonight, I want the advantage. Where is that? Okay, don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”

  After he hung up, he shook his head. “That woman is horrible. I’m supposed to kill Daisy tonight.”

  Six minutes later, Doc dropped me off with instructions to stay with Carole and Dylan until he got back. He waited until the door of the Walchuk condo opened and I was safely inside. He wouldn’t explain why he wanted me there, but I could tell it was important to him. I didn’t argue. I just watched him drive away with a little prayer that it would all go according to plan. I wanted Doc to bring Daisy home in one piece.

  Dylan wanted to play crazy eights, so we sat around the kitchen table, flipping cards down, getting silly as the game progressed. Carole seemed relatively calm, considering her ex-husband had thrown her for a loop with his news. Each time he won, Dylan did his victory dance around the table, waving his arms and legs, making his mother and me chuckle. Carole settled for an over-the-head, arms-raised, cheer each time she threw down the winning card. I kept my celebratory movements low-key, given my sore shoulder, but I managed to hoot, for Dylan’s benefit.

  By nine o’clock, I was starting to get worried. Carole got Dylan off to bed and then suggested we move ourselves to the sofa, to watch a little TV. I noticed her eyes straying to the mantel clock as the minutes ticked on.

  “I hope they’ll be home at a reasonable hour,” she said to me. “Daisy’s looking forward to that wedding tomorrow. I don’t want her to be too tired to do a good job.”

  “I’m sure they won’t be too much longer,” I offered. I was wrong. By ten, Carole was nervous. She tried Daisy’s cell phone three times. It kept going to voicemail.

  “Maybe there’s been an accident. Should we call the hospital?”

  “No, let’s give them a little more time. Another fifteen minutes.” The minutes seemed to crawl by, and when there were just three to go, my cell phone went bing. It was a text from Doc. I glanced down at it.

  Doug called Mimi. Said FBI called him -- children & ex-wife in danger. Warned her not do anything foolish. Took off with Daisy. Still trying to locate them. Don’t tell Carole.

  I didn’t do a very good job of keeping a poker face. Carole knew something was wrong, so I tried to distract her.

  “Doc. We had a little tiff earlier. He’s mad at me.” I threw in some of the lines from my very real fight with Doc about the date, figuring I could use the afternoon’s drama to keep Carole from thinking about her missing daughter. She tried to give me advice about Doc, telling me to give him a chance. I let her talk me into going out on a date with him. When I got done playing my part, I got up to use the powder room.

  The doorbell rang while I was washing my hands. I couldn’t hear who was at the door because of the overhead fan, so I sacrificed light for the opportunity to listen to the conversation just outside the door. I was hoping it was Doc and Daisy, but it didn’t sound like it. Carole’s voice had an edge to it. And then I could hear panic mixed in with the anger.

  “What are you going to do to us?” Those were ominous words. In the dark, I stood frozen. Mimi had brought Daisy home at gunpoint.

  My fingers fumbled on the phone as I dialed Doc. I didn’t trust myself to text him. I needed to hear his voice.

  “They’re here,” I whispered. “What do I do? She has a gun!”

  “I’ll call the local police. You stay where you are.”

  I could hear Mimi in the living room. She was forcing Daisy to duct tape Carole’s hands and feet. The teenager was sobbi
ng, begging her mother to forgive her. Carole was almost eerily calm. As Mimi’s voice rose in pitch and volume, Carole’s grew softer.

  “Don’t worry, Daisy. I know it’s not your fault. You’re a good daughter.”

  “I don’t want to die,” sobbed the terrified teenager. “Please!”

  “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” the frazzled stepmother screamed.

  Once Carole was restrained, Mimi wanted Daisy to do the same thing to her little brother, and that meant going upstairs to retrieve the sleeping boy. This was too much for a girl on the verge of womanhood. Daisy begged her stepmother not to hurt the family. Mimi ignored the pleas.

  “Hurry up!” she shouted. “Get the little brat now or I’ll shoot you in the knees. You won’t die right away. The pain will be excruciating.”

  Why go to the trouble of taping their arms and legs together? Why wake up a second-grader from his pleasant dreams and force him downstairs, where he would know only the sheer terror as he faced his death? Why force Daisy to do her dirty work? Power. Revenge. Mimi had come to Old Saybrook, first to eliminate Doug’s daughter, and then, when the plan imploded in her face, to extract revenge on the innocent for ruining it for her. She wanted her victims to feel helpless as she killed them, one by one. Doug would have to live with the horror of knowing his family was murdered because he made Mimi mad.

  I heard them go up the stairs, Daisy wailing as she went, Mimi screaming at her to be quiet. I could even hear them moving around as Daisy woke her little brother up. Taking advantage of the moment, I ran to the front door, my hands fumbling with the knob. A patrol car was just arriving. I stumbled out to meet the cops, leaving the door open as I fled.

  “Wait in the car!” commanded one cop over his shoulder, passing me. Three cops made their way up to the front door cautiously. I was too scared to get in the car. I hovered behind it, watching, listening, praying. I could see the police moving silently, carefully into the condo. Slipping inside, they scattered. One went into the powder room. One ducked into the kitchen. The third disappeared in the direction of the living room.