Sex in a Sidecar

by Phyllis Smallman

  “Call them,” I told him. “Tell them the pharmacy is closed for business. I don’t need the hassle.” Again Terry didn’t protest.

  As I closed the door behind me, I came face to face with a man I’d hoped to avoid for the rest of my life. The look that crossed his face said he either felt the same or he had a sudden and severe case of indigestion.

  “Good morning, Dr. Travis.” See how close we were? Can you feel the warmth?

  “Hello, Sherri.” Polite and neutral. His face was square-jawed and strong-boned like Jimmy’s and then there was the same fair hair, with only a hint of gray, and the same blue eyes. This was what Jimmy would have grown into if an out-of-control lifestyle had ever let Jimmy age. “I’ve been meaning to call you,” he said.

  Yeah, like I’d been meaning to join a political party and get involved.

  Looking around, Dr. Travis said, “Perhaps we could talk.” He went along the hall and tried a few doors, finally saying, “In here,” before stepping aside so I could enter the empty patient room.

  He closed the door precisely and carefully. “Thank you for taking care of Bernice.” Jimmy’s easy charm and the grace that embraced everyone around him was more formal and calculated in Dr. Travis, but still affective.

  I nodded in reply, watching and waiting, taking no chances.

  “I know Bernice means to call you and thank you herself.”

  I laughed aloud at that one.

  He smiled. “Well, maybe not. But I’m grateful. She would have died if you hadn’t come along.” He rubbed his left temple and frowned. “I just don’t understand how you found her. Bernice’s version is pretty garbled. The pain must have distorted her memory.”

  “I bet her memory is pretty clear.” I tossed my purse on the bed and hoisted my behind up beside it. “It was strictly an accident I was there.”

  Halfway through my story he sat down beside me. I concluded my story with, “I think Bunny Lehre and Gina were probably killed by the same person.” “Is that why you were asking questions of Nurse Bentley?” Heat rose up my throat to my face. “Sorry,” I said, expecting him to explode in anger, which is what he would have done a year ago…before Jimmy died. But he didn’t. There was a new softness about him or perhaps it was just exhaustion and loss. It seemed all his emotions were dampened down and he just couldn’t work up the strength to care.

  “I wanted to know everything I could about her,” I told him. “Two women being murdered here is too much of a coincidence to believe the deaths weren’t related. I thought it might explain what happened to Gina if I knew about Bunny Lehre.”

  He gave a small nod and I felt encouraged to go on. “Did Mrs. Lehre ever mention to you that she was afraid of anyone?”

  “We weren’t on those terms.” His lips gave a wry twist. “To tell you the truth I don’t think there was a person on earth who could scare that woman. I did a breast enlargement on her. She insisted they were uneven and demanded I correct it while telling me she was going to sue my ass off.” The corners of his lips lifted in a tiny smile. “The truth was she just changed her mind on the size and wanted them redone for nothing.”

  “That’s pretty much everyone’s experience with her. The other members at the B&T tried to avoid her but for some reason Gina sought her out.”

  “Do you think this Gina woman knew Bunny Lehre was going to be murdered?”

  “It’s an idea. Gina said Bunny and her sister were alike.” I slid off the bed. “I have to get back to the B&T.”

  Dr. Travis stood and said, “I’d like to pay for getting Jimmy’s pickup painted.”

  Jimmy’s dad had always thought money was the solution to any problem, even child-raising. Why he wanted to throw some at me now, I couldn’t begin to guess. “Don’t worry about the pickup,” I told him, opening the door. “It’ll be as good as new.”

  “Jimmy loved that damn thing.”

  “Yeah, he did.” I smiled at the memories. “Contrary to our origins, Jimmy was always more of a cracker than I was. Pickups, boats, fishing and beer were all he aspired to in life.”

  Dr. Travis grinned, the first real ray of warmth he’d shown and added, “You forgot golf.”

  Now we were both smiling, the only easy and comfortable moment I’d ever shared with the man. But it was way too late.

  In the hall we stood awkwardly, unsure how to say goodbye. “Well,” I said, trying to decide if I should hold out my hand. I settled on a stilted little nod, “You take care.”

  We parted with a promise to stay in touch, a promise neither of us meant to keep.

  Chapter 54

  Back in the veal-fattening pen that Terry used as an office there was another flower, this time a yellow rose bud that I thought came from the small well-tended garden at the front of the club. I was still staring at it, trying to tell myself to stay calm and not let the creeping sense of dread have its wicked way with me, when Julian came in and started ranting.

  “Where have you been?” He didn’t wait for an answer.

  “Terrence had a meeting with Corrie Finnigan and her mother about the beverages for the wedding. I had to cover for you.”

  I was guessing, from the irate tone of his voice, that my charms had paled for him. A dangerous boyfriend had done the trick of getting him to back off and now that he knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere with me, he wasn’t going to waste any charisma.

  I picked up the rose and dropped it in the wastebasket. “It’s the first I heard about any meeting.”

  “I’m sure it was in Terrence’s Day-timer. If you are going to work out in this position you must pay more attention to details. This is an excellent opportunity for you. Don’t waste it.”

  “I’m a little new here.” I shifted papers around on the desk, hunting more for self-control than information. “Bear with me.”

  With a weighty disgusted groan, he said, “You Southerners just have no concept of a work ethic.”

  Bingo! He’d just pushed the one button guaranteed to send me into orbit but I struggled for whole seconds between chewing my tongue and letting go my well-honed gutter talk. The gutter won. Effing-Bliss backed out the door, his face the color of boiled lobster as I stood up and leaned over the desk towards him describing in vivid detail where he could stick his job and what I hoped it would do to him.

  By twelve o’clock I had Chris started at the downstairs bar. “I’m going upstairs to meet a couple about a party we are catering next weekend,” I told him. “Call me if you need anything.” “Don’t worry, I’ve got everything under control.” The disgusting part was it was true. The slimy little slug knew his way around a bar.

  After the meeting I popped into the kitchen where they were having a crisis all their own. Seems the prep chef hadn’t shown up.

  This was great news for me. Miguel had done all he could at the Sunset and was out of work. “I know the perfect guy, worked with him at the Sunset.” I was already dialing. Given enough time, I’d have all of my friends around me.

  At two Bernice called. She started right in without saying hello. “How can you embarrass us like this?”

  “Like what?” For the life of me I couldn’t figure out what I’d done to set her off this time. Of course I’d been wearing my Sid Vicious tee-shirt and my red high-tops when I ran into Dr. Travis at the hospital. That outfit would be enough to set Bernice off for a week but my bet was Dr. Travis had heard about my inappropriate clothing choices too many times to launch that particular rocket.

  “Wasn’t it bad enough that you worked at the Sunset without rubbing our noses in it by going to the Bath and Tennis Club?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “All our friends go there!” Her voice spiraled several decibels above human speech and just below the level only dogs could hear. “We can never show our faces there again.”

  Oh, joy! M
y time at the B&T wasn’t misspent after all. “I thought anything about me would be old news. Why would anyone be interested? Besides, I have to make a living.”

  “Oh, please! You’re living off Clay Adams or has he come to his senses and thrown you out?”

  I slammed down the receiver, my breath coming in gasps. I wanted to kill someone, no, not someone, I wanted to kill Bernice.

  I charged out into the hall as the glass door to the manicure room flew open. Tanya ran out with her hand pressed to her left cheek. She didn’t see me as she ran by, tears streaming down her face. Deanna followed her. Perfectly turned out, Deanna was unruffled, her face bland. Without acknowledging my presence, she coolly glided down the hall to the massage room.

  Sweet. Everyone was having a perfect day here in paradise.

  I was back in Terry’s office calling suppliers when Julian’s bulk filled the door. Booze oozed out of his pores, leaving an oily dampness on his skin, and I could smell his alcoholic ripeness even from behind the desk. His liquid lunch shone in the brightness of his eyes while his face still had the bright red sheen it had when I saw him last, only now it wasn’t from rage.

  “We must speak, Ms. Travis,” he said. And speak he did. I sat and listened. It wasn’t his words that held me enthralled, it was the fact that after his first sentence, his accent slipped and then disappeared. Posh English became pure Brooklyn. I’d give odds this guy had never been out of the States. Old Peculiar indeed.

  After he tore a strip off me for my crude response to his earlier visit he launched into the story of his life, the people he knew, the places he’d been, just to show me he was a man deserving of respect. His life sounded like the plot of one of those old black-and-white movies AMC plays at three in the morning. Actually, I was betting that’s where he came up with it.

  “Why did you leave England?” I asked when it seemed apparent from the pregnant silence he expected something out of me.

  “I didn’t like the weather.” Which was a strange thing for a guy to say who never went outside, avoided it at all costs.

  I made a wild guess. “Of course you were friends with Bunny Lehre in New York. That’s why you came down here.”

  He looked confused. He licked his fat lips and his brow wrinkled in concentration as he tried to remember if we had discussed this before.

  “We weren’t exactly friends,” he said and his frown deepened. He lifted a fat index finger, searching for clarity as it waggled in front of his face. “I managed a private golf club out on Long Island, that’s where we met, but we weren’t friends.” He gave me an oily smile, pleased with himself for making the distinction.

  “But she got you your job here.”

  “No. She did tell me about this club, told me they were looking for a new manager, but we weren’t friends.” He smiled, ever so pleased that he’d passed the test.

  It wasn’t really that unusual. Lots of jobs in the service industry are found through contacts. That’s why I was at the B&T, the same with Chris. It’s what keeps the industry functioning, but maybe there were a little too many connections here. At least one too many.

  “Did Bunny Lehre have a drug habit?”

  His red sweating face lost some of its color. Some fragment of caution told him he had slipped onto dangerous ground and an effort of will brought him temporary sobriety. “Really, Ms. Travis, you ask a lot of questions.” He tugged down the sleeves of his jacket. “I’m glad we’ve had this little talk. Cleared the air, as it were.” He straightened the front of his jacket and smoothed it over his belly. “I always think it’s best to clear the air. I’m sure you’ll manage quite well until Terrence gets back.” He gave me a dignified little bow. “If you have any questions I’m always here.”

  Yeah, well that was the downside of the B&T.

  I followed Effing-Bliss out to check on Chris. He was rushed off his feet but coping fine, just taking a tray of refreshments in for the book club meeting in the library. Ethan came in from the pool with an order so I started filling it and asked him, “Did you know Gina Ross?” His eyes got wary. “Nope.”

  “I thought since she was a friend of Bunny Lehre’s you might have met Gina at Bunny’s.”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head in denial. “The only person I ever met out there was Isaak.”

  Chapter 55

  The cocktail shaker stopped. “Tell me more.”

  “Isaak and Bunny were friends,” Ethan said and added straws to the napkins on the tray. “He was there a few times that’s all. I think they had some kind of business planned.” He pointed at the shaker. “Hurry, the Tompsons hate to wait.”

  You eat when you can in this business so at about four I slipped into the kitchen where Isaak welcomed me with a huge smile. “The girl of my dreams, what can I do for you?”

  The devil’s smile said there were lots of things on offer. “For a start, no more flowers,” I told him.

  He raised his shoulders. “One lovely red rose on a tray, how can you object?”

  “It’s about the orchid and hibiscus.”

  “What?” He looked confused and then said, “I promise I will never bring you either.”

  “You already have.” More confused looks. “Haven’t you?”

  “No.” He looked as baffled as I felt.

  It was too nice to be inside so I carried my dinner out to the picnic table. November is the best month of all in Florida, except maybe April, or even May or any of the others really.

  Out there in the glorious sunshine, with the sound of waves crashing and gulls screaming overhead, Tanya Jones and Ethan Eames sat across a picnic table from each other holding hands and staring deep into each other’s eyes. Ethan looked up at me and his smile faltered.

  “Hi, Sherri,” he said. He let go of Tanya’s hands. I could tell I was a skunk at a picnic but my mind was on the offering I carried, not their problems. I set the tray down carefully, reverently even, and returned their greetings.

  Tanya’s eyes were red and puffy. Effing-Bliss had already called down and talked to me about Tanya. Deanna had made a complaint to Julian about Tanya’s attitude. Seems somehow service staff like Tanya came under bar services and I was expected to tell her to shape up.

  “Sherri,” Ethan said, “Don’t tell Mrs. Weston that you saw me with Tanya, please.”

  “Not my business,” I said without looking at them. The food made working at the B&T barely tolerable; I thought of it as a job perk and I wanted to be left alone to enjoy my feast. It had only been two hours since I sampled the red pepper soup Isaak had created for the luncheon menu but I was ravenous. Who cared about their sex lives? All I cared about was the banquet spread out before me, an open-faced steak sandwich on crusty Italian with a Greek salad on the side. I tasted the sauce on the steak. It definitely contained horseradish and Worchester, but what else was in it? This was something I might be capable of making.

  “Mrs. Weston hit Tanya,” Ethan told me.

  “I know,” I replied and barely refrained from saying, “now bugger off.” Dessert was puffed pastry stuffed with raspberries and cream, with a swirl of dark chocolate on the plate. I’d never be able to concoct puff pastry. I explored an edge with my fork, tasting the filling, some exotic fruit with a hint of lemon.

  “The thing is, Mr. Fotheringham-Bliss spoke to Tanya about it,” Ethan said.

  “It isn’t fair,” Tanya howled.

  Ethan reached out and touched her arm to silence her and said, “He told her you would be dealing with it.”

  “Why don’t we talk about this later today when everyone’s had a chance to calm down.” After I’d enjoyed my food without frivolous interruptions.

  “Are you going to fire me?” Tanya demanded. I set the fork down. “What happened?”

  Instead of answering my question, she said, “I need this job. I came down here to be with Ethan and now it is al
l going wrong.” She began sobbing.

  “Don’t cry,” Ethan begged, taking her hands again. “Don’t upset yourself,” he soothed.

  I started to get up and take my meal out on to the beach where only the gulls would bug me.

  He reached up to stroke her hair. Tanya jerked away from Ethan. “Fine!” She yelled. “I won’t be upset if you stop seeing her.”

  Ethan recoiled from her. Tanya’s fury seemed to take the substance out of him, making him shrink into himself, becoming smaller. “I’ve told you how it is,” he whispered. “She can help us.”

  “I don’t want her help. What do you see in her?” Tanya’s voice was loud and incredulous. “She’s old.”

  “Tanya,” he pleaded, turning his hands up in supplication. He got no further.

  “You want her more than me, don’t you?” She accused, leaning towards him. He shrank a way from her.

  She jumped up. “The only reason I came to Florida is because you asked me to. Or maybe you don’t remember calling me and telling me there was a job here and begging me to come down, pleading with me to come.” She lunged towards him, towering over him. “Who do you run to every time you get in trouble? Tell me that.”

  Ethan hunched his shoulders, not fighting back, not even trying to defend himself.

  “I gave up everything for you!” She hissed. “More than once, did things for you that you couldn’t do for yourself.” She paused and pulled away from him, studying him for a moment before she said softly, “Or have you forgotten your mother?” The words froze them both. They stared at each other, locked in horror. And then Tanya pushed away and rushed inside.

  Ethan raised his shocked eyes to mine. “ Sorry,” he apologized in a hushed voice, “sorry.” He rose, catching his foot on the bench and stumbling. Righting himself, he followed Tanya into the kitchen.

  What had I just heard? What had Tanya done to his mother?

  Ten minutes later one of the kitchen staff came out to tell me I was wanted on the phone. Cursing under my breath I went inside. Karl-Heinz out at the gate told me I had a visitor. “His name is Eric Schievner.”