Blue Goodness (Michael Kaplan Mysteries)

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Blue Goodness (Michael Kaplan Mysteries) Page 12

by David W. Cowles


  “Please don’t bother calling here again tonight,” Myra requested. “You’ll just be wasting your time and mine.” Again, Soozie slammed the phone down without the courtesy of saying “thank you” or “goodbye.”

  After sitting and staring at the walls for what seemed like an eternity, Myra glanced at her watch and saw it was nearly eight p.m. She felt a twinge of regret and a flush of panic and her mind started racing a mile a minute, vacillating back and forth like a windshield wiper.

  If Michael had any intentions of coming home, even just to apologize and try to make up, he should have been here by now, she thought. But he hasn’t even phoned. Not even to give me the opportunity to curse him out. Michael is probably spending another night with Kimberly. I’ll bet they’re in bed together this very minute. I’ve lost him forever. Better to find out what kind of man he is now rather than after getting pregnant with his child. Then, it would be too late.

  I wonder what that Soozie woman wants of Michael. For her to have made so many phone calls to try to reach him, it must be practically a matter of life-or-death. Perhaps it is important. Perhaps I should try to get the message to Michael, even if he hasn’t bothered calling me.

  Myra dialed Kimberly’s number, but the voice mailbox picked up.

  I know what I’ll do, she decided. I have to go to the store to pick up a few groceries. I might as well drop by Kimberly’s house and leave a note on her front door. It really isn’t that much out of my way, Myra rationalized.

  In her subconscious mind, what Myra really wanted to do was to find Michael and bring him home with her. She knew she would have another sleepless night without him at her side. She wasn’t ready to forgive him yet, but, if he showed any remorse at all for his infidelity, perhaps, in time, things could be worked out.

  MICHAEL COULDN’T DRIVE because of his sprained ankle, so Kimberly sat behind the wheel. Both of them were in high spirits—Michael, despite his problem with Myra. Kimberly, because of the rift. They laughed and joked all the way back to Las Vegas. When they arrived at Kimberly’s house an hour or so later, she parked the Jeep in her garage, next to her red Porsche.

  “Stay where you are for a few minutes, Michael,” Kimberly instructed. She went inside the house and located a pair of crutches, a leftover reminder of her skiing accident. Then she returned to the garage and helped Michael ease out of the vehicle.

  “Do we have to unload the Jeep tonight?” Kimberly asked. From the way she wrinkled her nose when she spoke, Michael knew she would prefer to wait until later.

  “No,” he replied. “Everything can stay right where it is until morning. The task will be easier tomorrow, after we’ve had a good night’s rest. Perhaps my ankle will feel better by then, too. Right now, I wouldn’t be able to be much help.”

  “What about the gold ingots?” she questioned. “Shouldn’t we at least take those inside for safekeeping?”

  Michael shook his head. “Nobody knows they’re here but us. We’ll just close and lock your garage door.”

  “I can’t wait to get into the shower,” Kimberly said. “I’ve never felt so filthy before in my entire life.”

  “I haven’t, either. I keep smelling that foul stench of dead animals. It’s all over me.”

  “It’s on me, too,” Kimberly stated. “But,” she teased, “you’ll have to agree it really isn’t much worse than that cheap perfume you came home wearing last night.” She was already starting to think of her house as their home.

  Michael ignored Kimberly’s comment. To him, it was anything but funny. “Why don’t you get in the shower first,” he offered. “I’d like to sit in the tub for a while and soak my ankle. Then—if you’ll drive—I’ll take you out to dinner. We’ll go to Desiderata and dine in style. To celebrate finding the hidden gold.”

  Kimberly had another reason to celebrate. Michael was sleeping in her house. Not in her bed yet, but that would happen. In due time. Before he even realized it.

  “That sounds wonderful—Desiderata is my favorite restaurant. But can I take a rain check until tomorrow?” Kimberly begged off. “It’s already eight-thirty and it’s been a long and tiring day. I’m completely worn out. If you don’t mind, I’d really prefer to stay home tonight and relax. I’ll call and get some Chinese food delivered. We can sit on the couch in the family room and watch old black-and-white movies on TV while we eat. Is that okay with you?”

  “Perfect. I’m looking forward to the evening already.” Michael appreciated Kimberly’s suggestion; he also was too tired to enjoy an elaborate dinner.

  Kimberly put on a silk robe after her shower—nothing else. It was turquoise, to match her eyes. She set the coffee table for dinner and piled throw pillows on each end of her couch so Michael would be forced to sit close to her. Then, she called the Wok Inn Take Out and ordered tempura shrimp, spareribs, egg rolls, sweet-and-sour pork, lemon chicken, fried rice, and fortune cookies.

  The timing was perfect. Right after the delivery girl arrived with the Chinese food, Michael hobbled in, wearing his own robe, the one he’d picked up at his condo that morning. It was brown, she noted. To match his eyes.

  They had just started their meal when the doorbell rang. When Kimberly opened the door Myra burst in without waiting to be invited. In the past, Kimberly would have thought nothing of it, but, under the present circumstances, she was more than surprised, she was perturbed by the sudden intrusion on her privacy.

  “I need to talk to my husband,” Myra announced indignantly, emphasizing the word husband. “Don’t try to tell me he’s not here. I saw his car parked in your driveway.”

  “Of course Michael’s here, Myra,” Kimberly replied blithely. Her voice was syrupy to the point of being cloying. “Where else did you think he would be? Please come in. We’re just starting dinner. Won’t you join us? There’s more than enough food. We’re doing Chinese tonight—pork spareribs, pork-fried rice, sweet-and-sour pork, fried shrimp … ” There was no need for Kimberly to list the entire menu—she had made her point. She could tell by the repulsed look on Myra’s face that her adversary had received the message. The meal was completely trefe, not the bland, insipid vegetarian Chinese food Myra always served at her house.

  “No … thank … you,” Myra replied with a sarcastic twist on her inflection and a disgusted look on her face. “I just have a message for Michael.”

  “He’s in the family room,” Kimberly stated. “Do come on in. You can give your message to him personally.”

  When Myra saw Michael reclining on the couch in his bathrobe, one leg propped up on an ottoman, a sparerib in his hand, her nostrils flared like a horse readying to throw its rider. “Well, Michael dear, it looks like you and your Kim are having a rerun of last night’s late show. Or, is it simply a sequel of the same old sorry affair?” She spat out the words contemptuously.

  Michael disregarded his wife’s sarcasm and insinuations. “Myra, please sit down,” he pleaded. “We need to talk about some things.”

  Myra shuddered at the repugnant thought of the three of them sitting down together like little old ladies playing mahjongg and holding a casual conversation, as if nothing had happened to change their lives. When she spoke it was with an air of indifference. “I really can’t stay. I’m on my way out for the evening,” she lied haughtily, in an effort to make Michael jealous. “I just stopped by to give you a message.”

  Michael feared what was coming next. “Oh? What kind of a message?” he asked, the anxiety making his voice raspy.

  “Some brazen bitch by the name of Soozie has been calling all day looking for you. Both at home, and, I understand, at the Times. When she couldn’t find you she even tried to reach me at the Gold Crest, but I wasn’t there—I’d taken a little time off to catch up on a few personal matters.

  “She was rude and obnoxious and sounded very upset with you, Michael. In fact, her tone was almost threatening. She said you’re to call her immediately, no matter how late you get home. I didn’t want to embarrass myself b
y admitting you were sleeping over at your girlfriend’s house and wouldn’t be coming home tonight.

  “Soozie didn’t leave her last name or number. She made it a point of telling me you know how to reach her at all times—whatever that means.”

  Michael and Kimberly exchanged a knowing glance, but Myra was so upset and working so hard to hide her emotions she failed to see the silent signal pass between them.

  “Soozie is a real estate agent,” Michael explained patiently. “Perhaps she’s located a house she thinks we might like—”

  Myra’s jaw tightened. “What a shame to waste the poor woman’s time. I’m sure Soozie will be disappointed to learn we’re no longer in the market for a new home. Well, I’ve given you the message, so now I’ll go.” She turned and stormed out the door before Michael or Kimberly could say another word, not even goodbye.

  Kimberly shook her head, as if to signify disbelief. She sat down and draped a consoling arm around Michael’s shoulder. This time, he did not pull away. “Whew, Myra was really cold,” she observed. “I’m so sorry, Michael. When I opened the door and saw her standing there I thought she might have cooled off some from last night, but I didn’t expect her to be an icicle.”

  Michael also shook his head, sadly, but said nothing.

  “What about Soozie—are you going to call her?” Kimberly asked.

  “I don’t want to, but I think I’d better. I don’t want her phoning Myra again. There’s no telling what Soozie might say to Myra the next time. She’s the most parlous woman I’ve ever met.”

  “Would you mind if I listened in on the extension phone? I’d like to hear for myself what Miss Soozie has on her mind.”

  Michael responded without any hesitation. “Please do. I mean it. I want you to listen in.”

  “Do you want to call her now?”

  He stabbed a shrimp with the tines of his fork. “No. Let’s finish dinner first, while the food’s still warm.”

  Kimberly served Michael the sweet-and-sour pork and fried rice. “Myra seemed very upset to find you here, Michael,” she said with feigned concern. To herself, she added, but, I really don’t give a damn.

  Michael shook his shoulders in exasperation. “I don’t know why. It wasn’t my idea to stay here, it was hers. She kicked me out of my own home,” he grumbled.

  Kimberly’s fingers trailed up and down Michael’s arm. “Myra’s jealous. Finding you here with me last night was one thing. But two nights in a row—”

  Michael was becoming hardened to Myra’s accusations. “So what? We aren’t doing anything wrong. If she thinks we are, that’s her problem. Myra owes both of us an apology.” He was miffed.

  Kimberly was secretly pleased Michael was not yielding to his wife’s pique or humoring her misconception. “I agree with you completely. We’re not doing anything wrong, baby, but we might as well be. Myra couldn’t be any angrier with you than she is already. After you call Soozie, let’s get in bed and fool around to give some truth to her allegations.”

  “Kimberly, please,” Michael admonished. “Don’t start talking like that again. You know how much you mean to me, but, you must also realize by now that I love you like a sister, not an inamorata.”

  Michael’s words pierced Kimberly’s heart. She tried to cover her pain with a flippant remark. “So I’m like a sister to you. Well, you know what they say, Michael. There’s nothing wrong with incest, as long as you keep it in the family.” Despite his effort to maintain a sober countenance, Michael cracked a smile.

  THE VOICE WAS SENSUAL and seductive. “Hello, sweetheart, this is Soozie. I’m not available to answer the phone right now, but I really do want you to leave a message after the beep so I can get back in touch with you.”

  “Soozie, this is Michael Kaplan. I—”

  An obviously irritated Soozie came on the line. “Michael, where in hell have you been? I told you I was going to call you today. I left messages everywhere. I know you must have gotten at least one of them before now. Why didn’t you return any of my calls, sweetheart?”

  “I was out of the office all day. Myra told me you phoned, just a short time ago. I was—”

  “Never mind explaining. It’s too late now for us to get together tonight, as much as I wanted to do so earlier. Anyway, I have company. A client. We’ll do lunch tomorrow. Twelve o’clock sharp. Meet me in the Gold Crest’s Ponce de Leon room.”

  “I can’t see you tomorrow, Soozie. I—”

  “Don’t give me any static, sweetheart. Don’t make me mad. I’m already very upset with you. I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow. Afterwards, we’ll get a room at the Gold Crest and make love all afternoon.”

  Michael was getting exasperated. “Wait a minute, Soozie. Listen to me. My wife works at the Gold Crest. I don’t want her to see us together. She might think there’s something going on between us.”

  “There is something going on between us, sweetheart. Don’t piss me off by saying there isn’t. Anyway, knowing we’re having sex right under your wife’s nose and she might catch us will make it that much more exciting. It’ll pump up your adrenaline. Not that you need anything to pump you up.”

  “You don’t understand, Soozie. I—”

  “You don’t understand, sweetheart. I told you to meet me tomorrow for lunch. Don’t disappoint me or I might go crazy on you and do something you’ll regret.”

  “Okay. I’ll meet you for lunch tomorrow,” Michael agreed. “Afterwards—”

  “After lunch we’ll make love. Or, we could just skip lunch and go directly to our room. I’ve been putting on a little weight lately, so I can afford to miss a meal or two. No, we’ll have lunch first. I want you to have plenty of energy. You’re going to need it.”

  “Soozie, I—”

  “Tell me tomorrow, sweetheart. My company’s getting anxious. Ciao.”

  When Michael heard the dial tone he stared unbelievingly at the phone for a moment before replacing the handset on its hook. He sat holding his head in his hands. Kimberly stepped up behind him and started massaging his shoulders.

  “You heard it?” he mumbled.

  “I heard it. Every word.”

  “What am I going to do, Kimberly?”

  “Well, tomorrow you’re going to have lunch with her. You’ve already agreed on that. Afterwards—”

  “That’s what I mean. What am I going to do after lunch?”

  “That’s up to you, Michael. But if you don’t want to go to bed with your girlfriend from hell, I have an idea that might neutralize her. Permanently.” Kimberly had a sly glint in her eyes.

  “What is it? Tell me, quick.”

  “There’s a calculated risk, which you might not be willing to take. Let me think about it overnight. I’ll give you the details in the morning. I’m going to bed now. You can join me, if you wish. I really hope you will. No strings attached. I’m not asking you to have sex. We’re both too tired, anyway. I’d just like to hold you next to me and cuddle all night.”

  Kimberly knelt down and pressed her body into his. Her kiss good night was soft but fulfilling. Her lips and tongue were more persuasive than Michael cared to admit.

  He sat silently after she left the room. His mind was in turmoil. Images of Myra, Kimberly, and Soozie flashed alternately in his head. He turned on the eleven o’clock news, but couldn’t concentrate on what the newscaster was saying. After the first commercial break came on, Michael turned off the television and lights and limped into Kimberly’s guest bedroom. He would sleep alone. Tonight, anyway.

  Fifteen

  E.J. GELLER happened to glance up from the stack of papers he was pawing just as Michael hobbled past his opened office door. “Yes, sir, is there anything I can do for you?” he called out to Michael. “Are you looking for someone?”

  Michael stopped in his tracks and turned back toward Geller’s office. He didn’t know whether his editor was being serious or sarcastic. Often, Geller was both at the same time. “You must need new glasses, E.J. It’s me—Mic
hael.”

  Geller adjusted his spectacles, which, as usual, had slid low on the bridge of his nose. He squinted his eyes and pretended to take a closer look at the man now standing in the door frame. “So it is. So it is. It’s been so long since you’ve bothered to come into the office I’d almost forgotten what you look like, Michael. The last time I saw you was day before yesterday—just about this time of day, as I recall.”

  He turned his attention to the woman who had walked up behind Michael and was standing at his side. “Oh, hello, Kimberly. Nice to see you again, too. I presume you and Michael spent the day together yesterday?” His comment was phrased as a statement, but came out as a question.

 

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