Don't You Forget About Me: Pam of Babylon Book #2

by Suzanne Jenkins

“Maybe the old lady should be there to take care of you,” Marie admonished. “Are you eating?” The tables had turned; it was Pam who had asked that of Marie in the past.

  “I don’t have an appetite. Would you do something for me?” she asked and didn’t wait for an answer. “Call Sharon and see if Mom can go down there for a week. I’m not ready for her to come back from Susan’s on Friday.”

  “Just wait, okay? You might feel differently by then.” Marie was not going to do any such thing. Nelda should be there, taking care of Pam. She might even call their mother and tell her to get back right away. “I’ll come after work tomorrow. The flu that’s going around lasts for ten days. Do you think you could have it?”

  “Could be. It feels like the flu. Look, Marie, I need to hang up. Call me tomorrow, okay?” She hung up.

  Marie looked at the phone. She couldn’t not go to work on Tuesday. For the first time in a long, long time, she wanted to go, was excited about being there and doing her job. Of course, it would stand to reason that the one time Pam really needed her she wouldn’t be able to go. She decided to do something that she had resisted in the past; she would call Sandra. Her SpaghettiOs were bubbling away, so she went into the kitchen to turn off the stove. She had Sandra’s number on little pieces of paper from times that she had called after Jack died or when Pam tried to get them to interact. There had never been any positive communication between the two of them. Sandra didn’t trust Marie, and Marie was jealous of Sandra. But this was for Pam. She’d make the call for her sister. She found the number and keyed it in. Sandra picked up on the first ring.

  “This is Marie. I feel sort of stupid calling you out of the blue like this.” She paused, trying to formulate her request. “But, first of all, how are you? How’s the baby?”

  There was silence, and then Sandra responded with the pat answer. “I’m fine, and the baby is fine. What can I do for you?” Sandra was definitely not in the mood for any of Marie’s foolishness. If she started accusing her or talking about Jack, she would hang up. “I’m sort of in the middle of something right now.”

  “Okay, well, I won’t keep you. I have a favor to ask. Pam is ill. She said she hasn’t felt well for days, and didn’t get out of bed today. Is there any way you can get to Babylon tomorrow? I am totally swamped at work. Our merger moved over yesterday, and it’s a zoo there.”

  “Oh boy, that will be a tough one.” Sandra paused. She wanted to help Pam out, though. “I might be able to swing by first thing. Do you think that would help?”

  “I appreciate it so much. Don’t tell her you’re coming because you know Pam, she’ll tell you she’s all right and will refuse the help. I’ll go after work—or earlier, if things are organized enough.”

  “Okay, no problem, Marie. Thanks for letting me know.” They said good-bye and hung up.

  Sandra was concerned, though. She wondered why she hadn’t heard from Pam and her phone calls had gone unanswered. There was nothing pressing for her in the office. She left a voicemail for the receptionist that she would be in at noon and that she could be reached on her cell phone. She was a partner; if she wanted to take half a day off, she would do so.

  When she got home that evening, Tom was not far behind her, coming to watch over her apartment from the alley behind the building. He explained that it was not that unusual for the police to keep an eye on a victim for a few days after the perpetrator was released from prison, and they had it on record that Sandra was at Pam’s the day of the attempted murder of Nelda. Sandra blanched at the word murder. She went downstairs and opened the door to the alley.

  He looked up from the work he was doing and stuck his head out the window of his cruiser. “What’s up?”

  She explained about the call from Marie and that she would be going to Babylon in the morning.

  “Do you want me to take you? I’m off duty when you leave here, anyway,” Tom said.

  “Don’t you need to sleep sometime?” She imagined driving with him after he had been up all night. Her hands went protectively to her belly.

  “I’ll sleep in the afternoon. I never go right home and go to sleep. Besides, I am off tomorrow, remember? Jim will be here.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure you don’t mind. I wasn’t looking forward to taking the train, anyway.”

  The next morning, they got on the road by eight. Rush hour was coming toward them, so it wasn’t a bad ride. They talked more about their history, although Sandra avoided telling him too much information about her friendship with Jack’s family. She didn’t know him well enough yet to reveal the details. When they got to Pam’s, Sandra tried calling her to let her know she was just outside. She was not expecting what she would find when they got to the door.

  Chapter 20

  Shortly after Pam hung up on her, there was a knock on the door of Anne and Bill’s brownstone in Greenwich Village. She peeked out the blinds and saw a plainclothes policeman and a uniformed officer. Oh crap, she thought.

  “One minute!” she yelled through the door. Picking up the phone, she dialed Bernice’s number. Of course, the maid answered the phone. Anne willed herself to stay calm. She asked for Bill. Several minutes later, Bernice came on the line.

  “He’s not here, Anne. I thought he might be headed downtown, but that was hours ago.”

  “Would you tell him I called, Mother Smith? Let him know I’m on my way to jail and have no one to pick up our children at daycare. Possibly you could enlist that driver of yours to get them?” Anne stuck her tongue out at the phone. “I have to go now; the police are at my door.” And she hung up.

  She opened the door and stepped aside to allow the men to come into her house. It didn’t make any sense to her not to let them in. Calling an attorney now would just delay the process.

  “Hi, I know why you’re here. Should I bring anything?” she asked. “Like my purse?”

  They introduced themselves, explaining they had a warrant for her arrest and then read her rights. “You can leave any valuables here. Do you need to make arrangements for your children?”

  She shook her head, and it was then, and only then, that she felt near to tears. In actuality, it would be a relief to be physically separated from Bill. She wasn’t afraid anymore, and the feeling was wonderful. But she was worried about her children. She decided to speak out. “My kids may be in danger with their father. His mother is aged, and there is no one else.” She bowed her head, determined not to cry.

  The officers looked at each other and nodded their heads. “Okay, we’ll take care of them.”

  She didn’t ask how. They let her go through the door first and then waited while she secured the door. The neighbors on either side of their house were home, peeking through the blinds. It would baffle them why the wife was being led away and that brutal bastard of a husband was free.

  “Are they at school right now?” the plainclothes officer asked her. “We can wait until the end of the day to pick them up so they aren’t so frightened by the police coming into their classroom. How old are they?” He slid in beside Anne in the backseat of the car, keeping a conversation going with her as they drove to the jail.

  She had a horrible headache. Prison loomed ahead as a beacon of safety. She hoped they would find her guilty and keep her there for a long, long time.

  ~ ~ ~

  Bill had become the new annoyance customer at the bagel store on the corner of Broadway and Eighty-Second Street. He left his mother’s house early Tuesday morning to stake a place at the counter by the window. He was waiting for Sandra to leave her apartment building to walk to the subway entrance on Broadway. Instead, he saw her in the front seat of an unmarked police car, headed east. What the hell is going on? he asked himself again. It was the same car he’d seen in the alley when he walked by her building on Sunday night. Are the police protecting her? His anger was palpable. How the hell did she rate? And what does that mean for me? He walked out shortly after he saw Sandra drive away, to the relief of the staff.

 
; “He’s creepy. Don’t we have to deal with enough creeps around here?”

  But he would be back before long. Sandra can’t hide forever, he thought, walking back to his mother’s house. He’d continue organizing the junk and artwork he wanted to sell. That afternoon, someone from one of the big art auction places was going to come and look at the first load of stuff they had gathered up. Bernice was going downhill so quickly it frightened him. If something happened to his mother, he would have to be in charge and would have to take over. Bill didn’t want that; he liked being the child.

  Soon those worries would end, however, because a warrant for his arrest had just been issued, and as soon as the officers could locate the defendant’s wife to find out where he was, they would have him in custody.

  Chapter 21

  Slowly, and without warning, a life may spiral out of control. For Sandra, the downward motion started the day she walked into the offices of Lane, Smith & Romney. At the time, she had no idea that there would be devastating consequences to the simple act of making eye contact with a handsome, charming man.

  On Tuesday, Sandra returned home from a day of dealing with Pam’s health issues and then more drama at the office. Tom dropped her off at the front door of her building and drove around to the back, where he would be doing surveillance in the alley for the next twelve hours. He had been so wonderful, driving her all the way to Babylon, staying with her all morning, and then taking her downtown so she could work for a few hours. Expecting Jim, the other detective, to pick her up at five, she was surprised and pleased that it was Tom again. He said he wouldn’t have been able to relax or sleep anyway, and Jim was happy to trade days off.

  She threw her purse down on the chair and went into her bedroom to slip off her work clothes and put on her beloved spandex. The waistband was getting tight. The prospect of wearing maternity clothes scared her because it meant exposure. She would have to “come out” at work.

  The mail was on the hallway floor; she bent over and scooped it up. It was mostly junk except for her electric bill and a business envelop from her obstetrician. She went into the kitchen with the ads under her arm. Turning the flame on under the teakettle, she got a knife out of the silverware drawer and slit the envelope from the doctor’s office open. There was a computer printout of her blood work and a short typewritten letter signed by the doctor. She put the mail down on the kitchen table, got her mug out, and put a tea bag in it. She stood by the stove, one arm crossed over her midriff, with her other hand up by her mouth. It was a posture of concern, which she automatically assumed whenever something worried her.

  The teakettle whistled, and she poured hot water over the tea bag and took her mug with her. Sitting down, she put her mug down on a coaster and picked up the letter. It said simply, Call the office as soon as possible regarding your lab work. Additional blood tests are needed to confirm your results. Her heart did a little flip-flop; she could feel the irregular beat. Looking at the printout of the lab work, but not yet picking it up, she said out loud, “What could it be?” Sandra often said she was as dumb as a rock when it came to medical things. And she had no nurse friend or doctor buddy whom she could call to get an interpretation. Afraid to touch the paper, but wanting to see if she understood any of the numbers, she forced herself to pick it up. Starting at the top, she read, “Hemoglobin-11gm/Dl. Iron-50.” She continued on down the page. None of it made any sense to her. There was no indication that any of the numbers were abnormal.

  Picking up her tea, she blew into it to cool it a little and took a sip. Tom was outside, and she suddenly wanted to see him, to talk to him. She went downstairs and out the back door. He was reading, as usual, but stopped when he saw her coming toward the car.

  “Can you come in? I’ll make you some tea.” He had confessed his love of coffee, but that he may become a tea drinker as well. “Would that be breaking the police rules?”

  And then she saw him.

  As she was bent over, looking into the car through the passenger-side window, she saw Bill. He was looking at them from between the buildings on Eighty-First Street, right around the block from her building.

  “Don’t look now, but guess who is standing right on Eighty-First?” She stayed ducked down, as though there was nothing more natural than having a conversation with a cop in a back alley.

  Tom picked up his radio, being as inconspicuous as he could, and radioed in for another car.

  “Stay here and talk to me. What were you asking me? Did I want some tea? Tea would hit the spot.” Tom’s radio beeped; the officer answered that they saw Bill and were going to question him. Bill was still standing between the buildings, watching Sandra talking to Tom. Just then, they heard the trill of a siren, and the car stopped right where Sandra could see it.

  Once again, she hoped she wasn’t overreacting. Is pregnancy making me hyperparanoid? But why is he spying on me?

  “Watch yourself. I’m going to go over there.”

  Sandra stepped out of the way so Tom could get out of the car.

  “Go in the house, okay?” He looked at her and, putting his hands on her shoulders again, turned her around and pushed her gently toward the door. “He might have a gun. I’m not taking the chance that you’ll get hurt. Shut and lock the door behind you.”

  She did as he said and went to the window with the chest of drawers barricading it. She could see the other officers talking to Bill and watched as Tom hopped over the six-foot-high fence as though he were a pole-vaulter. He spoke with Bill and then to the other officers. Tom frisked Bill and then, shockingly, produced a gun that he had strapped to his leg. One of the officers got his handcuffs off his belt and cuffed Bill with his hands behind his back. It would be illegal for him to carry a gun if he was on parole, Sandra surmised. She was off the hook.

  The phone rang. The caller ID showed the name and phone number of Sandra’s obstetrician. Her heart jumped once again. She didn’t want to miss the show out her window, but this was too important. If she didn’t answer, she would be up all night wondering what was going on.

  “Sandra, this is Dr. Martin. Am I getting you at a bad time?”

  How could she know? “No, this is fine. I was trying to make sense of the list of lab tests,” she answered.

  “You should never have been sent the report. I have to call several patients who received them. I apologize. We have some new procedures in the office, and sometimes old ones slip by.” She paused for a moment and then continued. “The reason I’m calling is because your ELISA screen was positive. It’s a test that screens for HIV antibodies. Having a positive ELISA doesn’t mean you are HIV positive. We need to run another test to be certain.”

  Sandra had gone to her recliner to collapse. HIV?

  “Can you come in tomorrow morning and give us another tube of blood?” Dr. Martin knew she had given Sandra what would have amounted to a death sentence a few years ago. There were medications now that were safe and effective. HIV was still dangerous, still worrisome for the baby, unless the mother took medication.

  “I’m still back at HIV,” Sandra responded. “Everything else went in one ear and out the other.”

  “Come in tomorrow morning, and we’ll talk then. We aren’t sure you have HIV until we do a second test. Most likely, you’re fine, so don’t worry. Okay?”

  Sandra thought she might be in shock. Thank God she hadn’t slept with Tom on the first date. She had wanted to. “All right. I’ll come in tomorrow morning before I go to work.”

  They said good-bye, the doctor repeating the order not to worry. Sandra hung up. How can I get rid of Tom tonight?

  As though he were reading her mind, there was a knock at the back door. She struggled to get up out of the chair. She was not going to tell him this latest news. Opening the door for him, she saw him looking into her eyes. Oh God, one of those intuitive men.

  “You’re as white as a sheet. You don’t have to worry anymore. He’s broken parole and will be shipped back to Rikers Island tonig
ht.” He kept looking at her. “I have to go downtown now to process him, but you’ll be safe. If you feel nervous, I can ask Jim to come back.”

  “No, I’m fine. It was really shocking to see him being taken away,” she lied. He hadn’t tried to hug her again, which she was grateful for. She would have surely broken down crying if he had.

  “I’ll call you later,” he said. He got into his car and, waving at her, drove off down the alley. As she locked the door behind him, a vision of Pam went through her brain.

  Chapter 22

  Earlier that day, when they got to Pam’s house in Babylon, Tom went up to the door with Sandra when Pam didn’t answer the phone. The door was unlocked, and they found Pam on the hallway floor. She was a mess. It was obvious she had been ill a while. Tom called 9-1-1 and identified himself as an officer with NYPD. Within minutes, the ambulance was there. Sandra was on the floor with her friend, holding her head, trying to rouse her. Sandra got Pam’s purse and keys from the table in the hallway, and she and Tom followed the ambulance in his car. She thought of Andy. Tom called the Babylon precinct and left a message for Andy to call him. Just as they pulled into the emergency room parking lot, Andy called back. Tom briefly told him the situation, and Andy said he would meet them in the waiting room. Sandra decided she better call Marie, too. Marie said she would leave right away.

  Andy arrived at the hospital shortly after they did. Sandra told him what had happened and that she didn’t have any idea what could be wrong with Pam. Andy shook his head in understanding, but said nothing. Sandra couldn’t determine if he was in agreement with her or in shock. Hadn’t they just seen each other? She decided to do her sly investigation.

  “How did she seem when you saw her on Saturday?” She looked right at him. There was no way he would be able to deny seeing her.

  “Fine! I mean, she seemed okay. She was a little depressed, but that’s to be expected with what she has been through.” He didn’t add the unspoken you know all about it. He seemed totally ignorant of what Sandra’s relationship was with Pam. They stood together in a silent circle. “Why don’t I find out what’s going on?” He pulled out his badge; Tom smiled. It was sometimes beneficial to be a policeman. He left them and went to the nurses’ station.