A Time For Us (Michael Kaplan Mysteries)

by David W. Cowles

  “Both of you look so nice. Are those new outfits? I don’t recall seeing you wearing that skirt and blouse before, Morgan.”

  “Yes, Mom. They’re new outfits. Mine is a gift from Myra.”

  “Isn’t that sweet. I really like your hair, Myra. It’s so fresh and youthful. The color becomes you, too.”

  “Thank you, Mom.”

  Mrs. Penny nodded toward Myra. “Thank you for bringing Morgan home tonight, Myra. That was so kind of you. I worry so when she has to take the bus.”

  Morgan giggled. “Actually, Mom, Myra didn’t bring me home. I brought her home. She’s here to stay.”

  “Morgan’s right, Mom,” Myra added, giggling. “Morgan brought me home, just like a stray puppy dog.”

  Morgan’s mother appeared to be puzzled. “What do you mean, dear?”

  “Let me break the news, Morgan,” Myra piped up excitedly. “I’ve left Michael and Kimberly, Mom. I’m getting a divorce. Morgan and I are in love and we’re going to live together.”

  “That’s right, Mom,” Morgan confirmed. “Myra and I are a team. From now on.”

  Morgan’s mother stood. She placed one arm around Morgan’s waist and the other around Myra’s. The top of her gray head barely came up to their shoulders. “I’m thrilled for you girls. Secretly, I was hoping and praying you would find a way to be together. It was so obvious to me you’re meant for each other. I must say, though, your generation doesn’t waste any time making decisions and changes. I suppose it’s for the best. In my day, a woman would stay for years with a man she didn’t love—even a man who was physically or verbally abusive to her—just because she couldn’t admit her to her family and friends that her marriage had failed or because she wanted to wait until her kids were grown up and out of the house. That was so silly, and brought women so much despair. Today, people are much more inclined to end their mistakes promptly instead of living with them.

  “I know that finding out about you and Morgan must have been terribly traumatic for Michael and Kimberly. In time, though, they’ll get over the breakup and move on with their own lives. There are two adages that apply. Pearls of wisdom, I call them. Things always work out for the best, and, When one door closes, another door opens.’

  “That’s right, Mom,” Myra agreed. “Now, Michael and Kim can get married. Kim’s wanted to have Michael all to herself for a long time. Michael didn’t know what he wanted, but now his decision is simple.”

  “Why are you up so late, Mom?” Morgan asked. “I hope you haven’t been waiting up for me.”

  “No. I went to bed a couple of hours ago, but I was having a little difficulty breathing, so I decided to get up and make myself a cup of mint tea. Lately, I seem to have a bit of trouble catching my breath when I’m lying down.”

  Morgan frowned. “Mom, you’re just going to have to have that bypass operation. You shouldn’t put it off any longer.”

  “Morgan, we can’t afford the expense. You know that. I promise I’ll take it a little easier and rest more often. Please don’t fuss over me. I’ll be all right.”

  “HI, MICHAEL. THIS IS MARK.”

  Michael checked his watch. It was nearly midnight. “Hi, Mark. Working late again?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been going over my notes on the Sliced Nipples serial killer.”

  “That’s what you’ve nicknamed him?”

  “Not me. Your competition. What your editor refers to as ‘the yellow rag down the street.’ The Times didn’t print the murder details, but the R-G did, even though I asked them not to. Now, the TV stations and the rest of the media have picked up the term and they’re using it, too. God, I hope they don’t induce some other crazies into starting an epidemic of copycat murders.”

  Michael was not in the mood for a lot of talk. “What can I do for you, Mark?” he asked tersely.

  “Actually, I need to talk to Myra. She never got back to me with any info about Patti Ho.”

  “I’m surprised Myra didn’t call you. She said she was going to. According to Myra, at least one employee at Blue Hawaii said Patti Ho was having an affair with Rick Lacey.”

  “Really! If I can confirm that, I’ll finally have a valid reason to question him. I’m beginning to believe Lacey may be the murderer, Michael. Every one of the victims has had some kind of contact with him. Can I speak with Myra for a minute?”

  “Myra isn’t here, Mark.”

  “Oh? Please have her call me the minute she comes in. I don’t care how late it is. I’ll probably be working all night.”

  “Ur, uh, um, Myra won’t be back tonight.”

  “Why? Is she out of town?” Mark pressed.

  “Not exactly. Myra won’t be back here at all. She’s left me, Mark.”

  “Left you?” Mark echoed hollowly.

  “We’re getting a divorce.”

  There was a long pause while Mark assimilated the information. “I’m sorry to hear that, buddy. It was Kimberly, right? You couldn’t keep your zipper up and Myra caught you humpin’ Kimberly?”

  “No, it wasn’t because of Kim at all. Oh, hell, I might as well tell you. You won’t let the matter rest until you find out. You’ve already questioned me about it. Yes, Kim and I have been sleeping together. Together with Myra. We’d entered into a ménage à trois.”

  “Holy cow!”

  “Everything was fine, or so I thought, until tonight. Kimberly and I were thrilled with the arrangement. We thought Myra was, too. She’s the one who pushed for the ménage, for reasons I won’t get into now.”

  “So, what happened to change Myra’s mind?”

  “Myra fell in love with someone else. Another employee of Blue Hawaii. A woman. Her name’s Morgan Penny.”

  “I recall Myra mentioning Morgan’s name. Maybe Myra is just going through an experimental phase. Maybe she’ll be back after she gets the fling with Morgan out of her system.”

  “No. Myra won’t be back. She made that quite clear to Kim and me. As soon as my divorce is final, Kim and I will be getting married.”

  “You sure don’t waste any time, Michael. Do you have a number where I can reach Myra? Other than at Blue Hawaii? I don’t want to call her there. I’m more concerned than ever that her work phone may be tapped.”

  “Myra has a cell phone, but I don’t think she’ll have it turned on this late. She turns it off and plugs it in to recharge the battery every night.”

  “Do me a favor, Michael. Call Myra at work tomorrow and ask her to get in touch with me as soon as possible.”

  “If you don’t mind, Mark, let me give you Myra’s cell phone number so you can call her yourself.”

  “I understand. You’re not ready to talk with Myra about anything right now. You must be hurting pretty badly, Michael.”

  “I am, Mark.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I don’t know whether to offer my condolences about your divorce from Myra or my congratulations for your forthcoming marriage to Kimberly.”

  “Both, I suppose,” Michael said. But he sounded much more melancholy than happy.

  MORGAN AND MYRA were nestled in bed. Both were deliriously happy. It was not the first time they knew they would be waking up together, but the first night they knew they would always be waking up together.

  Morgan’s hands were sensuously traveling all over Myra’s body. Myra was shivering with delight. “Morgan Penny, you’re doing it again. You’re driving me wild with desire!”

  Morgan stopped and sat up in bed. A thought had just occurred to her. “Myra, I don’t even know your last name. Your maiden name, the one you’ll be using in the future.”

  “Brotsky.” Myra’s hands were now busily caressing Morgan.

  “How do you spell it?”

  “B-R-O-T-S-K-Y. Just like it sounds. Why did your mother name you Morgan? That’s an unusual name for a girl.”

  Morgan giggled. “Do you like my name?”

  “I love it, just like I love you. It seems to fit you to a T.”

  “I’ve ask
ed Mom about my name many times. She never gives me the same answer twice. One time, she’ll say I was named after J. P. Morgan, the famous financier. She told me she thought the name might rub off and I’d become wealthy. Another time, she said she named me after the Morgan horse, which is strong, and usually chestnut or black in color, sorta like me. Once she said I was named after Sir Henry Morgan.”

  “The pirate?” Myra laughed.

  Morgan’s hands were again in action. “Yeah. Henry Morgan started out as a buccaneer, but after he captured Panama City, he was jailed as a pirate. Eventually, Morgan was released and knighted, and then became lieutenant-governor of Jamaica.”

  “You’ve certainly captured my heart, Morgan-the-love-pirate.” Myra punctuated her remark with a kiss.

  “If you guess my middle name, you’ll know who I’m really named after,” Morgan teased.

  “I can’t guess. I give up. What’s your middle name?”

  “It’s le Fay. If you recall, in the King Arthur legend, Morgan le Fay is a sorceress.”

  “That’s certainly appropriate. You’ve completely enchanted me!” Myra’s tongue had relieved her hands of their job.

  “In old Celtic folk tales, Morgan le Fay is Queen of the Incubi. The incubi are said to be demons that descend on sleeping women and have sex with them.” Morgan pretended to make a threatening gesture.

  Myra eased Morgan on top of her. “You don’t have to wait until I’m asleep, Morgan, my love. You can descend on me and have sex right now.”

  “I’M SORRY, KIM,” Michael mumbled apologetically. “I don’t know what’s wrong. This has never happened to me before.”

  Kimberly shrugged. “It’s understandable, Michael. Myra put you through a lot of trauma this evening. You’ll be okay tomorrow, I’m sure.”

  “I still can’t believe Myra would say so many horrible things. Can you imagine, all the time we were together, I never satisfied her in bed—and she never said a word to me about it.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, Michael. Myra’s incapable of being satisfied by any man. It’s a wonder she tried as hard as she did to make your marriage work. You have to give her credit for that, at least.”

  “I suppose so. I do satisfy you, don’t I, Kim? You’re not faking your orgasms, are you?” Myra’s admission had seriously threatened Michael’s masculinity. He desperately needed Kimberly’s reassurance of his virility and desirability.

  “Of course you satisfy me, baby. And no, I never fake. You send me to the moon every time.”

  “I didn’t tonight. I’m sorry about tonight.”

  “It’s okay. It doesn’t matter.”

  Kimberly said it didn’t matter, but actually it did. Okay, so Michael couldn’t get it up tonight, she thought. He could have—make that should have—gone down on me. He knows how much I like that. He does it all the time, anyway. If he’d done it tonight, it might even have ended his little bout of impotence. But no, he was interested only in his own release. Myra was right. There are times when Michael is downright selfish and greedy.

  Michael got me all hot to trot and worked up and now I’m so damn frustrated every nerve in my body feels like a rubber band that’s been stretched until it’s ready to snap. I always smoke a cigarette after sex. Tonight, I’m smoking a cigarette instead of sex. It’s a damn poor substitute.

  It’s all Myra’s fault. If she were here—if she hadn’t freaked out over Morgan—things would be fine right now. But instead, Michael’s in a blue funk and I’m so pent-up I could scream.

  Why do I keep thinking about Myra? I do miss her. I wish she were here in bed with us right now. Ohmygod! I wonder if her prediction is right. Maybe I will need another woman. I sure could use one right now.

  Thirty-Two

  TRADITIONALLY, CASINO EMPLOYEES are furnished one free meal per day. Executives and managers who have the power of the pen can dine in any of the casino’s restaurants. The remainder of the employees eat in the Help’s Hall.

  At many casinos, the food in the Help’s Hall consists primarily of day-old leftovers from the all-you-can-hold-down buffet and other casino restaurants, and ranges in quality from barely palatable to life-threatening. At Blue Hawaii, however, the food is expertly prepared from the highest quality ingredients—by direct order of Marshall Brendan, who often eats in the Help’s Hall himself.

  During morning hours, the cafeteria-style food line includes an abundance of fresh fruit, rolls, bacon, ham, sausage, hashed brown potatoes, and scrambled eggs. Chefs in immaculate white uniforms cook to order pancakes, French toast, omelets, or fried eggs, any style.

  At other times—the Help’s Hall is open around the clock—a wide selection of hearty entrées is always available. Because of the ethnic mix of the employees, the variety is intentionally vast. On any particular day, the steam table items might include fried catfish, stuffed bell peppers, mashed potatoes, french fries, rice, grilled chicken breasts, egg rolls, teriyaki beef, tamales, tacos, chile rellenos, mixed vegetables, clam chowder, and giant cheeseburgers. The cold line includes an abundance of raw vegetables, fruit, hard-boiled eggs, pickles, olives, and more than a dozen different salads. Virtually any type of hot or cold sandwich a person could ask for—BLT, turkey, roast beef, ham and cheese, pastrami, French dip—will be made on request. Desserts include an assortment of pies, cakes, and soft ice cream. Coffee, cappuccino, hot tea, iced tea, milk, assorted fruit juices, and soft drinks are available from self-serve dispensers.

  MYRA DIALED THE NUMBER of the Surveillance office. Morgan answered the phone.

  “Hi, Morgan. Guess who this is?” she quizzed, trying to disguise her voice to sound like a man.

  “Hi, Myra. You can’t fool me. I know it’s you,” Morgan giggled.

  “What time are you going to lunch?”

  “In about five minutes. Why?”

  “Meet me in the Help’s Hall. We’ll have lunch together.”

  “Are you sure?” Morgan questioned disbelievingly. “What about you-know-who?” She didn’t want to mention Rick Lacey’s name over the phone, in case someone was listening in.

  “I’m not going to be bulldozed by you-know-who—or anyone else, for that matter. I don’t care who knows about us, Morgan. We don’t have anything to be ashamed of. You’ve changed my life, completely. For the better, I must say. You’ve made a new person of me and I like who I am and where I’m at.”

  Fifteen minutes later Myra and Morgan had filled their trays and were seated opposite each other at a booth in the smoking section.

  “Has anyone noticed your new look?” Morgan asked curiously.

  “Girl, have they!” Myra exclaimed animatedly. “Four guys hit on me before I even got to my office this morning—a pit boss, the poker room manager, and a Pai Gow dealer who thinks he’s God’s gift to women. I rebuffed them all, of course. I told them I wasn’t interested in men.”

  “Word of that’s going to get around the casino fast. By the end of the day, everyone will know.”

  “So what? Maybe I should just post a notice on the bulletin board,” Myra kidded nonchalantly. “Or, we could throw a coming-out party.”

  “I see you’ve removed your wedding band. The white ring on your finger is a red flag you’re newly separated. Your admirers must expect you to be an easy target. Most men seem to think women who’ve been married can’t make it through the night unless they have a man to sleep with.”

  “I know. Isn’t it disgusting?”

  “Who’s the fourth?”

  “The fourth?”

  “You said four guys hit on you, but you only mentioned three. Who was the fourth?”

  Myra lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “Paul Carey.”

  Morgan slapped the table with the palm of her hand. “Whaaat! The Casino Manager himself? Girlfriend, you’ve really hit the big-time.”

  “Carey was very slick. First, he complimented me on my new look. Rather lecherously, I thought. Then—you’re absolutely right, Morgan—he noticed my wedding ring. Or,
rather, lack of one. When I told him Michael and I separated and were getting a divorce, Carey got very serious and pretended to be oh-so-sympathetic. Like he really cared about my marriage. Carey never asked me how I felt, though. If he had, I’d have told him that leaving Michael to be with you was the smartest thing I’ve done in my entire life. He said maybe I just needed a few days away from Michael to think things over, and he hoped Michael and I would be able to work out our problems and get back together.

  “And then he dropped his zinger.”

  “Which was?”

  “He told me he’s going out of town for a few days. Carey, the hotel’s executive chef, the advertising manager, and a woman who works in the art department are flying to Salt Lake City tonight on the corporate jet. A production company in Utah is going to film a series of TV commercials for Blue Hawaii’s restaurants. Carey invited me along. He said we—meaning just he and I—could spend a couple of nights in Park City and go skiing.”

  “He didn’t!”

  “Oh, Carey tried to be subtle, but I knew what was on his devious little mind. It wasn’t outside sports, believe me. His eyes were focused on the front of my blouse and he kept moving from side to side until he was in a position to get a good view of my nipples. The man was actually drooling, Morgan! I thanked him for his offer and politely turned him down.”

  “I was hit on this morning, too, Myra.” Morgan told her. “Rick Lacey finally made his move.”

  Myra nervously lit a cigarette. “Ohmygod! What happened, Morgan? Are you all right?”

  Morgan shrugged. “Oh, I’m fine. I think so, anyway.

  “Lacey came downstairs to Surveillance. We were pretty busy, with lots of people running around, so he took me into his office. Said we needed to talk privately. I was worried that he was going to close the door, but he didn’t.

  “First, he asks me if my African princess costume is ready, and, when I tell him it is, he says good, because tonight is when I’m to play blackjack and win the half-million dollars. Lacey told me to meet him at five in his office and he’d give me final instructions and a starting bankroll.