Murder in the Air

by Marilyn Levinson

  Something rankled her, and she was determined to figure out exactly what it was before Sol joined her because she knew damned well it concerned him. But what troubled her exactly? He hadn’t coerced her into coming to the hospital. She would have come, regardless.

  And she had no objection to being on hand while Sol questioned Evelyn. But all this waiting around in a hospital cafeteria was maddening. That was it, she realized! Sol was calling the shots. Virtually giving her orders and expecting her to follow them.

  Trying to be fair-minded, she regarded the situation from his point of view. Why shouldn’t he be the one issuing orders? She’d called on him in his professional capacity, and he’d rushed over ASAP. It was his job to find Evelyn’s assailant and to ascertain if he was the same person who had murdered Daniel. If Daniel had been murdered. Sol was making it clear he was in charge because Lydia had interfered so often in the past.

  Interfering, hah! Lydia let out a huff of exasperation, causing a passing resident to stare at her. It wasn’t her fault people around her were dying or being attacked! She couldn’t help but take action. She was a take-charge kind of person. As CEO of her company she’d acted on the principle that every problem had a solution. Just as every murderer had an identity. Which would reveal itself, she was firmly convinced, after enough poking and prodding.

  It dawned on her that Sol knew exactly how her mind worked. He was aware of the force within her and felt challenged by it.

  Or was he threatened?

  Lydia hoped that wasn’t the case. Especially since his coolness toward her had another, more personal component. He’d finally asked her out and she’d told him she had a date, of all things!

  In the almost deserted cafeteria, she bought two coffees and a tuna salad sandwich, which she carried over to a table in the corner of the room. A thought struck her and she burst out laughing. She and Sol had gone out a total of two and a half dates—the half being the other night—and the dynamics of their relationship were as complicated as those of a four-year marriage. Which was totally ridiculous! It was unfortunate she hadn’t been free when he’d asked her out, but she’d make up for it by inviting him to dinner. There! She bit into the sandwich, pleased to have solved her problems so quickly, and hoped Sol would make it to the cafeteria before his coffee cooled off.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sol showed up twenty minutes later. “Sorry I took so long. A call came in regarding another case and required my attention.” He took a gulp of his coffee and frowned. “Ice cold. I’ll get me another.”

  When he returned, he downed the hot coffee and cake he’d bought in record time. His cell phone rang. He listened a minute. “Okay, thanks.” He got to his feet. “Let’s go, Lydia! Mrs. Hammond’s awake and alert.”

  She nodded and followed him out of the cafeteria. She practically had to run to match his stride. “So this is a typical day of a homicide detective?” she asked, glad that at least she wasn’t panting.

  “Typical? There ain’t no such animal.” He flashed her a smile, the first of the evening. “But today’s a good day because you saved your friend’s life. Tomorrow we go after the bastard who bashed in her head.”

  Evelyn was sitting up in bed as a very tall, very thin black doctor examined her eyes with a flashlight. Lydia felt Sol’s pent up energy pulsing, his eagerness to question Evelyn.

  The doctor advised his patient not to move her head. When he was done, he said in a musical West Indian cadence, “You may now see your visitors.” He turned toward them. “Lieutenant Molina, you have five minutes with Mrs. Hammond. We don’t want to tire her out.”

  He left them. Sol stepped back so Lydia could stand beside Evelyn.

  “I’m so glad you’re awake,” Lydia said.

  “I am, too,” Evelyn said, her voice faint. “My head aches something awful.”

  “It’s no wonder, Mrs. Hammond. I’m Lieutenant Molina.”

  Evelyn smiled. “Yes, I know. I remember when you came and spoke to us last fall.”

  “Did you see who struck you?”

  Evelyn shook her head, then winced. “No. I was fast asleep. Lydia offered to bring dinner. At seven, we said. I figured I’d be awake by then, and if I wasn’t,” she smiled, “well then, Lydia would awaken me.”

  “You mean you left the door unlocked?” Sol asked.

  Evelyn stared at him. “Certainly not! Lydia has a key to our house.”

  “I didn’t think to bring it with me,” Lydia admitted. “The house was dark when I got there. I rang the doorbell. When you didn’t answer, I went around to the kitchen door.”

  “And found it was unlocked,” Sol said.

  “I locked it before I went to lie down.”

  “Who else has a key to your house?” Sol asked.

  “Let’s see—our neighbors, the Bronsteins. They’re away. Stefano—he checks on our house when we’re in Florida—my daughter, Daniel’s daughters, and our cleaning woman, Flora.”

  Sol had whipped out his notepad and was writing furiously. “Anyone else?”

  “No one I can think of—oh, yes, Gillian, the Devil Twin. Oh, sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Lydia gaped. “You actually call her that?”

  “It’s something the twins cooked up, a takeoff on the good twin-bad twin thing, which, frankly, I’d never heard of before. Nicole and Gillian call themselves Angel and Devil. They love to dress for their roles.”

  “Come to think of it, they do look like day and night,” Lydia said.

  Evelyn gave a weak smile. “Gillian asked if she could study at our place when we were in Florida this past winter. Study, my eye. She wanted a place to be alone with her boyfriend, but who am I to stop young love?”

  “I didn’t realize Gillian has a boyfriend,” Lydia commented. She caught Sol’s frown and was sorry she’d spoken.

  Sol must have thought better of stopping the flow of conversation because he waved his hand. At any rate, Evelyn hadn’t noticed either the frown or the wave because she went right into her story.

  “Had a boyfriend. Kyle Mendoza’s his name. He looks like Satan, with his jet-black hair and brooding eyes. Loves to wear black leather like Gillian.” Evelyn laughed, then winced in pain. “They made quite a pair. Polly thought he was a bad influence on Gillian, while I think they were mostly playacting. They both thrived on coming off as scamps.”

  Scamps! When was the last time Lydia had heard that word? “Did Kyle use the nickname Ringo?” she asked.

  Evelyn thought a moment. “Ringo? Isn’t that the boy Nicole brought to Daniel’s party?”

  “Yes. And I saw her talking to him outside when I paid a shiva call.”

  “That’s because Polly won’t let him in the house. Gillian tells me he’s really bad news. He takes drugs.”

  Lydia was about to ask another question, but Evelyn was having trouble holding back tears.

  “Have you any idea who broke in and struck me while I slept?” she asked.

  “Not yet,” Sol said. “We found your jewelry box open and items scattered over the bureau. We’ve no idea what he took, if anything. Lydia’s arrival must have caught him in the act.”

  Evelyn gave a feeble wave. “The only thing I value is my engagement ring, and I was wearing that, thank God.”

  “Do you have any enemies, anyone who might want to hurt you, Mrs. Hammond?”

  “Of course not.” Evelyn blinked, puzzled by the direction the detective’s questions were taking. “But there’s the matter of the will.”

  “Your will?” Sol said.

  “No, Daniel’s. His two older children get the bulk of their inheritance after I’m gone.”

  “Meaning they stand to gain if something were to happen to you.”

  “Exactly, and they’re both desperate for the money.” Evelyn’s grimace turned fearful. “Dear God, I hope they don’t come after me here!”

  Sol patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Hammond. There may be no connection between your assault and M
r. Korman’s demise, but I’m posting an officer outside your room for the length of your stay.”

  “And then I’m going to Atlanta to be with my daughter.” Evelyn yawned. The last of her energy seemed to give out and she closed her eyes. A moment later she was gently snoring.

  Lydia and Sol left the cubicle. Evelyn’s doctor approached to say a room had just become available and Evelyn would be moved there within the half hour. Lydia said she’d call the hospital in the morning to find out when she could drive Evelyn home, while Sol arranged for Evelyn’s guard. Minutes later they were back in Sol’s car.

  “Care for a bite of dinner?” he asked.

  She laughed. “I’ve dinner for two waiting at home. Want to try my latest chicken dish?”

  “Wouldn’t mind if I did.”

  Lydia never could decide if it was the wine, the time spent with Evelyn in the ER, or her decision to put a lid on her old CEO persona, but suddenly she and Sol were in sync. After agreeing to put a moratorium on all discussion of deaths and attacks, both deliberate and accidental, their conversation lost any semblance of rhyme or reason. At home, she warmed up the chicken dish and rice pilaf in the microwave. Fifteen minutes later they were eating and imbibing their way through dinner and dessert.

  One kiss led to another and, without much ado, Lydia took Sol by the hand and made straight for her bed. Their lovemaking started out slowly, then turned fast and urgent. When it was over, Sol stroked her face, a lazy smile lighting up his face.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that from the first day we met.”

  “Me, too,” Lydia said, grinning.

  He kissed her fingers. “I’ve been lusting after you, not to mention the pining part. But you see how my days play out. They often run into night. You might get sick and tired of broken appointments.”

  “I’ll take that chance,” she answered lightly.

  “Well, that’s good, because I was thinking—”

  As though to prove his point, Sol’s cell phone rang. “Molina,” he answered crisply, then turned away to carry on a short conversation. “I’ll be down at the station and question him myself.” He glanced at his watch still on his bare arm. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Keep his lawyer there, whatever he says.” He was about to click off, when he growled, “I’ll tell her.”

  But when he turned back to her, he was grinning. “Your old friend, Officer McKlusky, sends his regards.” He gathered up his clothes and made a beeline for the bathroom.

  Lydia giggled. “It’s a good thing cell phones don’t have video capability yet.”

  “You could say that again,” came through the closed door over running water. Lydia stretched her arms overhead, knowing the smile on her face was gelling into a permanent feature. It had been so long since she’d been joyous with a man. The last year of Izzy’s life had been given over to his care and comfort.

  Sol emerged from the bathroom, dressed and looking gorgeous. Lydia stretched out her arms and he kissed her. He ran his hands down her breasts, and she wanted him all over again. “I hate to make love and run, but two of my men brought in a possible suspect in a case we’ve been working for months, and I can’t give up the chance to talk to this guy.”

  He kissed her nose. “Thanks for dinner and for everything else. Are you free Friday night? Or is your other admirer taking you out then, too?”

  Lydia burst out laughing. “Friday’s fine. As for my admirer, I believe I’m Andrew Varig’s excuse to have a night out on the town. My plan is to shift his attention to Barbara. She wouldn’t mind giving him a try.”

  Sol shook his head in mock dismay. “And we guys think we make the moves. Talk to you later.”

  *

  Lydia was too exhilarated to sleep much that night. She kept reliving the evening again and again in her mind, each time telling herself not to get carried away. She and Sol lived such different lives. His work consumed him day and night. What’s more, he bristled whenever she crossed the line to enter what he considered his domain. Still, she was happy, happier than she’d been in months, and she had no intention of squelching her high spirits.

  She managed to fall into a deep sleep around four, and slept until a quarter to nine, when Reggie awoke her by licking her face as he meowed his complaint that she was late with his breakfast. She felt a moment of panic, then sighed with relief. Today was Thursday. She didn’t work today.

  She slipped into her robe and padded down to the kitchen to feed her hungry cat. She called the hospital to check on Evelyn’s condition. She was put through to Evelyn’s section and told to wait for Evelyn’s nurse, who finally came to the phone to say the doctor had just examined Evelyn and declared her well enough to be taken home. Lydia said she would come for her within the hour.

  Next, she called Carrington House and punched in Len’s exchange. She waited through his message, knowing he never answered his phone, then said, “Len, it’s Lydia. Please pick up if you’re there.”

  He did. “Hi, Lyddie. What’s up?”

  Lydia cringed at the old nickname she’d told him several times she despised, and plodded ahead with her news.

  “Len, a neighbor’s had a bad accident and I have to take care of her. I won’t be coming in tomorrow.”

  There was a stunned silence, and then Len exploded. “You gotta be kidding! We’re up to our ears in affairs, and days behind on the paperwork. Jessica can’t possibly manage the front desk and send out contracts by herself.”

  “Then hire more help,” Lydia said calmly. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to come in—really, I am—but that has no bearing on the fact that you never replaced the women who left months ago. Jessica’s doing the job of three.”

  An expert at changing tacks, Len asked, “Have you come to a decision regarding the position you’ve been offered? Tom called this morning, asking if you have.”

  Sure he did. “I’ll call him as soon as I’ve decided.”

  “Gotta go,” Len barked, a sure sign he’d ceded the battle. “See you on Monday?”

  “I hope so,” Lydia answered, and hung up before he could squawk about that.

  She showered and dressed quickly, her happy mood dampened by the realization that someone had tried to kill Evelyn. Her attacker was patently evil and without a conscience, for who else would strike a sleeping woman and leave her for dead? Could it have been a robbery? Somehow she doubted it. Instead, she wondered if Arnold or Denise were capable of attacking Evelyn and if either of them had murdered Daniel.

  Lydia set aside her speculations and called Evelyn’s daughter to give her an update on her mother’s condition. Gayle had returned her call her late the night before, the moment she and Roger arrived home from the airport. The news had thoroughly upset her, and both Lydia and Roger had to work hard to convince her not to return to Long Island on the next plane out of Atlanta.

  Gayle was relieved to hear Evelyn was well enough to leave the hospital.

  “I don’t like the idea of your mother staying in the house by herself,” Lydia said. “I’m going to invite her to be my houseguest until she leaves for Atlanta.”

  “Lydia, you’re an angel! Thanks so much for looking after Mom. Daniel’s death was a terrible blow, and now this. Do the police have any leads?”

  “None that I know of,” Lydia said.

  “And you’ll be the first to hear. Thanks again, Lydia. I’m so glad Mom has you as her friend.”

  Did everyone know she and Sol were seeing each other? Lydia wondered as she put down the phone. Her cheeks grew warm as she wondered further if everyone assumed they were sleeping together. She shrugged. She couldn’t monitor people’s imaginations.

  At the hospital, Lydia was appalled at how pale and diminutive Evelyn appeared, her lovely hair hidden by the white dressing wrapped around her head. A nurse reviewed the printed instructions for Evelyn’s care and said someone would be calling that evening to check on her condition. Finally, the nurse instructed Lydia to drive her car up to the hospital entrance and
wait for the patient, who would be escorted outside in a wheelchair.

  Lydia and a volunteer not much younger than Evelyn settled her in the passenger seat. Lydia, mindful of her fragile passenger, started slowly for home.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  Evelyn, who hadn’t spoken two words since Lydia had arrived, said, “My head hurts.”

  Lydia forced herself to sound cheerful. “That’s to be expected. You’re doing fine. The doctor found you well enough to come home.”

  Tears welled up in Evelyn’s eyes. “I won’t go back to that place! It’s not my home, not without Daniel.”

  Lydia reached over to pat her shoulder. “You’ll stay with me until you feel better. Then you can visit Gayle in Atlanta.”

  Evelyn gripped Lydia’s hand hard, nearly causing her to swerve into the right-hand lane. “They killed Daniel and now they’re trying to kill me!”

  “We don’t know that,” Lydia said with more enthusiasm than she felt. “Whoever broke in helped himself to some of your jewelry. It could have been a random robbery.”

  “Robbery, my eye!” Evelyn said bitterly. “It was Arnold or Denise—or the two of them together. They’d do anything for money they think belongs to them.”

  Eager to redirect the conversation to a less volatile subject, Lydia said, “We need to stop to fill your prescription. Which pharmacy do you use?”

  “The Drug Market in town. No, don’t go there! Bennett works there and I don’t want to see any of Daniel’s miserable relatives. Take me to the other drug store on Main Street, please.”

  “Of course.” It suddenly dawned on Lydia that the reason Bennett had looked familiar was because she must have seen him in the large drug supermarket in town.

  “Is Bennett a pharmacist?” she asked.

  “Are you kidding? He’s a manager or holds some such cockamamie title, though Denise acts like he’s president of the company.”