They both declined. Lydia dropped down beside Sol. She longed to reach for his hand, but didn’t.
“I went out for dinner, too, as it turns out,” Evelyn explained. “Rosalie and Allen Holtstein heard about the break-in and left a message at the house. You remember them, Lydia—they sat at your table at Daniel’s party. Anyway, I phoned them back, and when they realized I was up and about, they insisted on taking me out.”
“Sure, I remember them.” Lydia pictured the couple: the old friend who had made a toast to Daniel’s good health; his pleasant wife.
“Allen Holtstein,” Sol mused. “Is he a Twin Lakes resident?”
“No,” Evelyn said. “They’ve recently sold their home in Syosset and will be renting an apartment not far from here. Why, do you know him?”
Sol shook his head. He got to his feet and reached into the pocket of his jacket for his cell phone. “If you ladies will excuse me, I’ll call in and find out what’s been happening in my absence.”
When he returned, the three of them chatted for a few minutes, then Evelyn excused herself.
“I like that woman,” Sol murmured in Lydia’s ear. “She knows when to leave a happy couple alone.”
“Are we a couple?” she asking teasingly, though her heart was pounding.
“You bet.” He nuzzled her ear, then whispered. “I’m going now. Walk me to the door.”
In the small entrance hall, he drew her close and kissed her. “That’s something to remember me by till next we meet.”
Lydia grinned. “Oh, I’ll remember you, all right. By the way, why did Allen’s name sound familiar?”
For a moment Sol remained silent, and Lydia thought he wasn’t going to answer. “Mr. Korman mentions the Holtsteins in his memoirs.”
The memoirs. Lydia hadn’t read them and had no idea what they contained.
“I talked to them at Daniel’s birthday party. Allen and Daniel worked in the same shoe store in the city. Years later they ran into each other when both couples were living on Long Island and resumed their friendship.”
“I suppose neither of the Holtsteins mentioned that Allen was suspected of murdering his former boss and released for lack of evidence. No one was ever brought to trial for the homicide.”
“Oh, no! The man who owned the shoe store?”
“The very same.”
She gulped. “If only I’d known! They took Evelyn out for dinner tonight.”
“And they’ll be living just down the road.” Sol’s tone turned mocking, but she knew it wasn’t directed at her. “Remember, Lydia, he was never charged with the crime. In the eyes of the law, he’s an innocent man.”
“Why did they suspect he killed his boss?”
“The victim owned a few shoe stores and was living the good life. He and his wife gave lavish parties and occasionally invited their sales staff. At one such party, Allen Holtstein was upstairs looking for a bathroom and came upon his boss mauling his wife, Rosalie. There were words and the Holtsteins departed. A few days later the boss was found dead in his Manhattan office. A few people remembered the fracas between the two men and Holtstein was brought in for questioning. He was a serious suspect because his brother was an exterminator and used the kind of poison found in the dead man’s body. But nothing could be proven, so Holtstein wasn’t charged with the crime.”
“Oh.” Lydia blinked, trying to digest Sol’s story.
“Before you start imagining you’re surrounded by murderers, I’ll add that the victim, Peter Rittenberg, had his finger in every dirty scheme. He had heavy debts. The shoe stores were a cover but, ironically, they proved to be his only success.”
Sol sighed as he pulled away. “I must leave you to your beauty sleep for your date tomorrow night.”
“Ah, yes, my date,” Lydia said. “I’d almost forgotten.”
“I haven’t,” Sol said, reminding her that her date with Andrew Varig was the least of the issues separating them. She hated to think how angry Sol would be if he found out she’d been withholding information about Timmy John’s death.
“Talk to you soon,” Sol said and went out into the balmy May evening.
Chapter Fourteen
Saturday morning, Lydia prepared a light breakfast for Evelyn and herself. Afterward, she sponged the table as Evelyn stacked the dishwasher.
“One more day, and you’ll be rid of me,” Evelyn teased.
“I’ll miss you,” Lydia said. She’d enjoyed having a guest who provided interesting conversation yet didn’t feel compelled to fill every silence. “How long will you stay with Gayle?”
“Two weeks, at least. Gayle’s youngest granddaughter turns two and there’s a party in the works.”
“The weather will be nice and warm when you come home. And your time away will give you the necessary break between all that’s happened.”
Evelyn sighed. “I feel I should be here, at least until we find out the results of the autopsy.”
“Now, Evelyn, Sol promised to call the moment the results come in. I’ll take in your mail and water the plants twice a week.”
Evelyn went home to pack for her trip. Lydia headed for the clubhouse for a much needed session in the indoor pool. With all that had been happening lately, she’d been neglecting her daily routine of swimming laps. She ran into George, Benny, and Andrew in the lobby. They halted their animated conversation to greet her.
“We’re about to go over to the construction site,” George informed her, “to keep an eye on things.” He winked. “Not that we’re expecting any more dead bodies to turn up.”
“I should hope not,” she said.
Andrew patted her shoulder. “On behalf of our committee, I promise to keep an eye on the crew. You needn’t set foot on the site until the clubhouse is up and ready for your decorating talents.”
“Much appreciated,” Lydia said, moving around him to open the glass door and go downstairs to the pool. “Bye, fellas.”
“I’ll pick you up at four-thirty,” Andrew called after her. “That will give us plenty of time for a relaxed dinner before the play.”
She turned around to nod in agreement, wishing Andrew had shown some discretion, and was disconcerted by the opened-mouth astonishment on both Benny and George’s face.
Let them be shocked, she told herself. It was no one’s business whom she saw. It was her life to run as she chose! She was a grandmother—almost fifty-nine years old, for God’s sake! Andrew was seventy. Suddenly, the whole thing struck her as hilarious, and she giggled all the way to the pool.
*
To her surprise, Lydia found herself chatting easily with Andrew as he drove swiftly and competently westbound on the LIE to Manhattan. He must have experienced an epiphany during his trip abroad because his usual uptight demeanor was gone, replaced by a warm and friendly manner. As they stopped at a light before turning onto the street leading to the Fifty-Ninth Street Bridge, she felt comfortable enough to ask, “What happened on your European trip that changed you?”
He turned to her and winked. “You’ve noticed.”
“Who wouldn’t?”
Andrew remained silent as they moved along with the traffic. When they were halfway across the East River, he said, “I fell in love.”
“Oh.” Lydia was stunned. Andrew? In love? Then again, why not?
He laughed at her fluster. “That’s right. I fell in love with a beautiful Italian woman thirty years my junior. We had four unforgettable days.”
“I’m happy for you, Andrew.”
Lydia waited to hear that the bella donna was coming for a visit, or that Andrew was planning a trip back to Italy. Instead, he grinned.
“It was great while it lasted. My kids had the good sense to keep out of our way, and resisted making comments about my robbing the cradle. When we said good-bye, Francesca and I agreed we’d shared a magical interlude in our very different lives, one we’ll always cherish.
“I miss her, of course, but not in a morbid way. The experience opened
my eyes to the fact that I have a damn good life right here at Twin Lakes, among people my own age.”
Lydia cleared her throat. “Andrew, I’m very fond of you, but—”
“But you’re involved with Lieutenant Molina. I know.”
She turned to stare at him. “Then why did you ask me to go with you into the city?”
“Because you’re a delight to be with. And you agreed to go, so I figured things weren’t that set between you and your paramour.”
“They are now. I mean,” she quickly amended, “there’s nothing official or agreed upon. We’re just—involved,” she finished lamely.
“I hear you,” Andrew said. “Frankly, I asked you out first because I figured you’re so cool, you’d know about this senior dating.”
“I don’t have a clue,” Lydia admitted.
They laughed. Andrew continued. “I figured I’d work out the dating kinks, then gather up my nerve to ask out a specific someone and avoid all serious bloopers.”
Lydia was both amused and, surprisingly, hurt. “Oh! So I’m the guinea pig!”
“Sort of.” He reached over to squeeze her hand. “Only in the kindest of ways.”
“Thanks a lot!”
Andrew stared straight ahead, apparently concentrating on maneuvering uptown on the East Side Drive. He was oblivious to the fact that he’d wounded her pride. Or if he knew it, had no intention of uttering another word on the subject. In truth, her pain was merely a twinge, and Lydia decided she’d be better off ignoring it herself.
“Andrew?”
“Hmm?”
“Is there someone you want to ask out, someone you like?”
He hesitated. “Please don’t say anything, but I was thinking of getting to know your friend, Barbara, better.”
Lydia grinned. Men! “And you figured you’d get to know her better by asking out her best friend.”
*
“We sure had a hell of a time,” Andrew said six hours later as he pulled up his emergency break in Lydia’s driveway.
“We sure did, Andrew. Everything was great, including the company.” Lydia leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Thanks so much for inviting me. I enjoyed myself thoroughly.”
He grinned. “Maybe next time we’ll make a double date of it.”
“That would be nice,” Lydia agreed, though she doubted that would ever come to pass. Sol Molina’s days off were always subject to change.
Reggie came to greet her as she entered the darkened house. He accepted her stroking, then turned around. Tail in the air, he led the way to her bedroom.
“You bet we’re off to dreamland, Reggie Boy, because tomorrow we rise early.”
She washed up and changed into her nightgown, then put an ear to Evelyn’s door. She smiled when she detected the sound of her steady breathing. Evelyn was fast asleep. Soon she’d be asleep, too. Lydia returned to her bedroom and set her alarm clock for five-thirty. She switched out the light and, nudging Reggie to make room for her, turned on her side.
*
“A beautiful day for flying,” Lydia commented as she placed Evelyn’s two suitcases in the back seat of her Lexus.
“You have my new key?” Evelyn asked, her face puckered into a frown.
“I do. I’ll bring in the mail, check your phone messages, and water the plants twice a week.” Lydia patted her hand. “You’re not going to the North Pole. We’ll talk on the phone.”
Evelyn smiled. “Silly, aren’t I? And I should mention, Gillian has a key to the house, so don’t be surprised if you see her stopping by. She’s back with her boyfriend. I gave Stefano a key, too. He finally has time to put in the shelves in our—I mean—my small TV room.”
Lydia froze. “You did?”
“Of course. Stefano’s been our handyman and caretaker since we moved to Twin Lakes. Daniel had him keep an eye on the house when we went to Florida. Why? Don’t you trust him?”
“I’ve no reason not to,” Lydia said, the image of Stefano and Denise embracing vivid in her mind. What was it about that twosome that set her teeth on edge? “I supposed, after what happened, you wouldn’t give your house key to anyone but me.”
Evelyn gave a little laugh as she brushed aside Lydia’s concern. “Gillian’s family, and Stefano’s honest as the day is long. Besides, Daniel was very fond of him.”
How fond of him would Daniel have been if he knew Stefano was involved with his daughter? “Whatever you think is best,” Lydia said as she opened the car door on the passenger side and helped Evelyn into her seat.
“What I think is that I can’t go around being suspicious of every person because of what happened,” Evelyn said as she fastened her seatbelt.
Lydia fastened her own seatbelt and backed slowly out of the garage. She felt uncharacteristically jittery this morning. She told herself it was probably because Evelyn was leaving, and the sensation would pass once she saw her safely into the airport.
It was a bright, clear morning. “A perfect morning for flying,” she mused aloud. “Not a cloud in the sky.”
She drove through the community and turned onto Bellewood Road. There was no traffic in sight except for the red pickup truck approaching from the opposite direction. The vehicle gained speed as it drew closer. Lydia’s heart leaped into her mouth as the truck veered onto her side of the road and came barreling toward them.
“Lord-a-mercy! A drunkard!” Evelyn exclaimed.
Lydia spun the wheel hard to the right. The Lexus crossed the shallow shoulder and bumped along a patch of low bushes until it came to a stop. Lydia jerked around in time to watch the truck disappear over the rise behind them.
“He’s gone,” she told Evelyn, who sat huddled against the car door. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. Please take me to the airport.”
“Of course.” Lydia reached for her cell phone. “After I call Sol.”
Chapter Fifteen
Lydia sat down in the visitor’s chair and watched Sol take his place behind his desk. It had felt strange when he’d called early that morning, asking her to come down to the police station, even stranger to be facing him across his desk strewn with papers and empty coffee cups. She’d never been inside his office, and the experience was filling her with dread. His impassive expression told her nothing. He cast his eyes on the papers before him, preventing her from seeing the shade of green they were right now. He was making this interview official and impersonal, and she had no idea why.
“Mr. Korman was poisoned. We received the results this morning.”
Lydia nodded, too stunned to speak. Thinking Daniel might have been murdered and hearing verification that he was were two very different kettles of fish. Her smile turned into a gasp. Suddenly, she was downing deep gulps of air.
“I’ll get you some water.”
When she could manage a few words, she said, “No need. I’m okay.”
Sol was already at the door, shouting out his order.
“Please don’t argue with me, Lydia. We’ve some ground to cover so I’d appreciate your cooperation.”
Ground to cover? She nodded, though she had no idea what he was talking about. When he handed her a glass, she sipped dutifully.
“Does Evelyn know?”
“I’ve spoken to her.”
“How did she take the news? Poor thing, she’s still shaken from our experience Sunday morning, and now this.” Lydia was babbling, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “I talked to her last night. She’s dizzy and very frightened. Gayle took Evelyn to see her doctor. He’s ordered bed rest for at least seventy-two hours.”
“Lydia, the poison was administered in candy. In Bertran’s Best cremes.”
She stared at him. “Oh, no! You don’t mean in the box of chocolates that Barbara and I gave Daniel!”
“That’s not what I said.”
“How can you know it’s that box? Other guests dropped off gifts and left them on the table in the cloakroom. I saw two other boxes of Bertran’s Best chocolates. Not the sa
me shape, which means they weren’t cremes, but I recognized the iridescent blue wrapping paper.”
It suddenly hit her. “Oh, God! Ours was the only box of cremes!” She turned to Sol. “I swear, Barbara and I didn’t poison Daniel!”
“Lydia—”
“Are you positive Daniel ate one of the cremes? I don’t understand how that could be.”
Sol came to stand beside her. He put his hand on her shoulder. “I know you didn’t put the poison in the chocolates, but Evelyn’s certain Daniel opened the box of Bertram’s Best cremes because the chocolate cremes were his favorite.”
“I know they were. Someone else knew it, and—oh, my God!” She stopped, too distraught to continue.
Sol grimaced. “Lydia, it’s not your fault Daniel’s dead. Take another sip, then tell me everything you can about the box of candy—from the time of purchase until you brought it to the party.”
Drinking water helped calm her. She drew a deep breath, then related the mundane facts of how she and Barbara had bought the candy one afternoon in the Bertran’s Best chocolate store while shopping at the mall.
“We told the salesgirl the kind of candies we wanted and she pointed to a stack of boxes. It was already wrapped in their special shiny blue paper. I took it home with me and left it on the dining room table until the evening of the party.”
“Could anyone have touched it in the interim?”
Lydia shook her head. “No one broke into my home, as far as I can tell. Besides, the wrapping was undisturbed.”
“Did you or Barbara hand the box of chocolates to Daniel?”
“No. Like everyone else, we left it on the table in the cloakroom. Though Evelyn had put ‘no gifts, please’ on the invitations, there were already some gifts on the table when we arrived.”
“And that’s the last time you saw the chocolates?”
“I suppose.” Lydia thought back. “I passed the cloakroom later in the evening, on my way to the ladies’ room, but I didn’t get a good look at the gift table. Daniel’s kids were in the room, holding what appeared to be a meeting. Actually, they were arguing.”
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