by Gina Ardito
“Yeah. Don’t worry. We’ll be perfectly sedate by the time we get there. Here. I’ve got a way to make it more fun.” He reached onto the lit-up bar behind him and pulled out a piece of aluminum foil and a mini-straw. “Have a hit off this.”
I shook my head. “What is it?”
“Just some stuff to take the edge off. Totally medicinal.” I must have made a face because he added, “Come on, don’t be a stooge. It won’t hurt you. It just makes you miss the booze a little less. It doesn’t have to be addictive, you know. You can chip. You know, take a little when you need it. Like for this snoozefest we’re headed to tonight. This will help take the edge off and make the night tolerable.”
I had no idea what was in that packet of foil, and I didn’t want to find out. “I…umm…you know what? I totally forgot. I have to babysit for a friend tonight. You can just drop me off at the corner, and I’ll walk home from here.”
“Hey! Don’t be like that,” he said through chuckles as he shoved the foil and straw back on the bar. “You don’t want a hit, you don’t have to take a hit. I just thought you might want to try it, you know? I forget you’re a small town girl with a small town brain. Probably terrified of the big, bad Mr. Brownstone. That’s okay. More for me.”
He settled into the cushion, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes. For several minutes, I waited, and when he continued to ignore me, I surreptitiously grabbed my cell. After making sure the phone was set to no tones, I typed a simple text to Gary.
Help?
He answered almost immediately.
What’s wrong?
Not sure. I think Max is on something. He’s got aluminum foil and a straw.
Get out! Now!
I can’t. We’re on the highway.
Where you headed?
Art gallery. Westhampton. Don’t know anything else.
Find out where and let me know. When you get there, get away from Max. Hide in the ladies. I’ll come get you.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
I looked up to see Max staring at me, his face a mask of fury.
I had to think fast. “I told you, I was supposed to babysit for a friend. I was texting her to let her know I wouldn’t be there.”
“Bull. Let me see.”
“No.” Instinctively, I cupped my bandaged palm around the screen.
“Let…me…see.” Before I realized what he planned, he’d yanked the phone out of my hand.
“Hey!” I struggled to reach it, but he extended his arm in the opposite direction, keeping me about a foot away from my one and only lifeline. “Give me that!”
Craning his neck while holding me back with his other hand pinned to my shoulder, he managed to catch enough of the conversation on the screen to know I wasn’t texting about a babysitting cancellation. With a malevolent smile on his face, he pressed the button to roll down the car window.
Wind whipped through my hair, but I didn’t care about my bangs flying in my eyes. “Max, please. Don’t do it.”
That twisted smile remained as he casually dangled my phone outside of the car and then, let it drop.
“Nooooo!” I whirled in the seat to stare out the back window as the massive SUV behind us crushed my poor cell under its weight. While my heart sank past my feet, I turned my anger on the villain beside me. “Have you lost your frickin’ mind?”
“Relax. I’ll buy you another phone tomorrow.”
“That’s not the point. You can’t go around destroying someone else’s property on a whim.”
“I can, when my guest for the evening uses that property to rudely ignore me while she texts another guy.”
“Are you insane? You were ignoring me.”
“Was I? Oops.” He giggled. Seriously. Giggled. High-pitched and downright creepy.
Once again,my panic button flashed red. “Max, it’s not funny.”
“Sure it is. Look, I’m sorry about your phone, but you ticked me off. I’ll get you another. For now, let’s just forget about this and have a good time tonight. Okay?”
No, it wasn’t okay. But what choice did I have? I’d have to wait ‘til we got to the gallery to come up with an escape plan. I turned away from Max, keeping my gaze on the storefronts whizzing by while my brain registered familiar landmarks. I still had every intention of getting away from this man as soon as possible. So what if he’d just made “possible” even harder for me? I’d figure out a way to get in touch with Gary and hide in the ladies room until he could come get me. Whatever charm Max Trayham once held over me had been crushed under the tires of a strange SUV on Montauk Highway. No amount of mystery substance in foil would make me crazy enough to ever have anything to do with him again. The man was deranged. Damaged. Maybe both.
The limousine pulled up near the main stretch of shops in Westhampton in front of a white storefront with large glass windows. Inside, a crowd milled around various paintings, sipping wine and nibbling on cheese cubes. I looked over the people with a sense of purpose. Someone there had to have a phone I could borrow.
“This is it?” I asked, my fingers perched to grab the door handle. “This is the place? The Paloma Gallery?”
“I guessh sho,” Max mumbled with a noticeable slur.
I didn’t bother to reprimand him. At this point, all I wanted was to get inside, throw myself on the mercy of a stranger with a working cell phone, and call Gary with my location so he could come get me. I kept repeating the name, Paloma Gallery, in my head, along with the building number: 425.
For over an hour, I tried. But Max never left my side, which, was, of course my luck, since this time I wanted him to leave me alone at one of his social events. I couldn’t get near the bathroom, which wasn’t a multi-stalled ladies room, but a simple one-room toilet and sink that forced all the guests to line up to use the facilities one at a time. Although the paintings were hideous and obvious ripoffs of that guy, Lichtenstein, a fact even I, with my absolute ignorance of modern art, recognized, I considered making an offer on one, in the hope the gallery owner would pull me into her private office where I could use the phone.
Max and I were making our umpteenth stroll around the room when a uniformed police officer came inside and headed straight for the gallery owner. I stared at the price tag listed underneath the smallest, most innocuous piece I’d come across, a vivid yellow, red, and blue cartoonish image of a woman putting on lipstick. Twelve thousand dollars. I was calculating how many organs I’d have to sell on the black market to raise that much cash when the same policeman strode over to where I stood with Max.
“Miss O’Mara?” he whispered.
I flinched. “Huh?” Well, crap. This night had gone from dangerous to criminal. “Yes. I’m Terri O’Mara.”
“I need you to come with me, please.”
Come with him where? Oh, God. Had Max set me up to take the fall for whatever he had in the aluminum foil out in the car? “Is something wrong?” Why didn’t he arrest Max instead of me?
“It’s better if we talk outside, if you don’t mind.”
Talk. About what? Why would a cop want to talk to me? A terrifying thought came to mind. Had something happened to Aunt Andrea or Uncle Larry? They would’ve tried to reach me by cell, but somebody had made that simple contact impossible. I glared at Max, my fury rising. If my aunt or uncle was in serious danger, and I missed helping them because of this selfish…child, I’d find a way to get even, if it took the next thirty years and every dime I had.
At least, if the cop was here to arrest me, I’d finally get my phone call. Who needed a twelve thousand dollar escape when a cop would bust me out of here for free? Now I could sell my organs to pay for vengeance against Max. I’d see him broke, abandoned, and with all his fans gone instead.
“Miss?” the officer prompted. “Outside, if you please.”
“Is it my uncle? Or my aunt? Are they okay?”
“Yes, miss. As far as I know. At least, that’s not why I’m here. I’d suggest you step outside s
o we can discuss this in private.”
At his questionable reassurance, I shook off some of my fear and dared a glance around the room. Everyone had forgotten the paintings and stared at me and this cop.
“Go on, Terri,” Max said. “I’ll come bail you out after I’m done here.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” I replied through clenched teeth. “But I think I’ll be better off without your help.”
With a nod, I allowed the policeman to lead me outside.
I stepped into the chilly night when a familiar voice said to me, “You didn’t call me back so I ordered reinforcements.”
“Gary!” I raced toward him, never so grateful to see this man than I was at that moment. When he opened his arms, I flung myself into him. “Ohmigod, thank you! How did you find me? And why’d you call the police? Not that I’m not grateful because I didn’t know how I was going to—”
His mouth came down on mine, cutting off my relief-induced rambling. I didn’t fight him. Instead, I gave myself over to the pleasure his lips evoked. Baking wasn’t the only artistic skill this guy picked up in Paris. He kissed with the same passion he put into his pastries. Viva La France.
“Ahem!”
Gary and I broke apart like two kids caught by the high school principal.
“I’m guessing you don’t need me anymore,” the officer said.
“Take a hike, Tom. Thanks for your help.”
“You got it. Don’t forget the torte for Thanksgiving, and we’ll be even.”
“Trust me. For what you did for me tonight, I’ll create a torte that’ll send your in-laws to heaven.”
The officer grinned and gave a smart salute. “Then I’m outta here. Terri, it’s nice to meet you. Try not to run off again without telling Gary where you are. I’ve never seen him get so panicky before.”
I wasn’t about to allow the slightest tarnish on my knight in shining armor. “Not nearly as panicky as I was. I don’t know who you are or how you found me, but thank you.”
“Tom Sharpe, SCPD, part-time baseball coach and finder of lost girlfriends.”
I laughed. “Well, this girlfriend is eternally grateful. You saved my life. Truly.” I snuggled closer to Gary. “So did you. How’d you know where I was?”
“I went online and checked for modern art exhibits scheduled in Westhampton tonight. This was the second out of four Tom was gonna hafta check. Why didn’t you call me back?”
I told him about Max throwing my phone out the window, and had to hold him back from storming into the gallery to drag the cretin out so he could beat the snot out of him.
“Don’t. He’s not worth you going to jail. I’m done with Max and all his problems. Honest. I still can’t believe he tried to get me to try…” I didn’t know what he’d tried to get me to try. “…whatever he had in that foil.”
“My guess would be heroin.”
“Heroin?” I screeched my shock.
Tom turned from climbing into his car. “What was that?”
“Easy,” Gary murmured and waved a hand at his friend. “Heroin with an e,” he lied. “I just told Terri she reminded me of one of those old time movie heroines who needs to be rescued from the railroad tracks.”
Tom chuckled. “You oughta know better, Sullivan. That’s not going to make her grateful for your help.”
Gary hauled me up against his waist. “She’ll forgive me. Won’t you, ma puce?”
“Kiss me again,” I demanded, tilting my head to meet him halfway. “Then take me home.”
♥♥♥♥
Jayne
When my phone rang the next day, I assumed Iggy was calling me to fill me in on his mom’s condition. Imagine my surprise to see Paige’s name pop up on my screen.
“Hey, snookums,” she greeted me when I answered. “Everything go okay last night? We were worried about you. Josh kept driving around your block for about a half hour in case it turned out you needed reinforcements. All quiet today?”
I hadn’t looked yet this morning to see if any reporters remained. And I didn’t plan to. Today was Sunday, my day of rest—and independence. “Time will tell,” I told her.
“Got any plans this morning?”
Aside waiting to hear from Iggy? “No. Why?”
“A friend of ours opened up a new tea shop in town. I thought you, me, and my sister, Nia could go today. Do some dishing over a pot of Darjeeling and the lightest lighter-than-air pastries you’ve ever tasted.”
“Dishing?” My suspicion antenna rose. Did she think I was gonna tell her all the nasty secrets I didn’t reveal to Cole last night? “Listen, Paige, I’m sure you mean well, but—”
“Oh, God, I’m sorry. No! I don’t mean it like that! Crap. I’m sorry. My brain is still swimming in last night’s wine. I meant, we’d dish about guys and how we don’t spend enough time at the gym, and where’s a good place for buffalo chicken wraps. That kinda stuff. I swear, I didn’t mean anything else. Honest. Please believe me, I would never—”
“Okay, okay, I get it.” I had to stop her before she made me dizzy. The woman could chatter like those old teeth a person could wind up and let loose across a kitchen table. “What time do you want to go?”
“Nia and I will pick you up in two hours. Is that enough time?”
To do what? Paint my house? I glanced at the clock. “Yeah, sure. I’ll see you at eleven.”
“Great. We’ll have a blast, I promise. Nia’s nothing like me, but just like me at the same time. You’ll see what I mean when you meet her. And Terri, who owns the tea shop? She’s had a rough time the last few years so we really wanna show our support by patronizing her new venture ‘til it’s on solid footing, you know? And did I mention the pastries? She’s got a real, honest-to-God French pastry chef working there. I swear every pound you’ll put on eating this stuff is so worth it—”
“Paige!”
“Huh? Oh, sorry. I tend to ramble sometimes.”
“Maybe you should switch to decaf.”
“Oh, God, no! I can’t abide the stuff. I’d drink lighter fluid first.”
I laughed. “Tea it is. I’ll see you in two hours.” I hung up and considered calling Iggy, but decided against it. There could be lots of reasons why I hadn’t heard from him yet, not all of them as serious as the one looming in the back of my head. He might still be at the hospital. He might be sleeping after spending all night there. Maybe he took Lucky for a walk and forgot to bring his phone with him.
I forced myself to stay busy by cleaning the kitchen, which, seriously, how dirty could it get? I live alone and work most days. I gave Midnight a much-needed brushing and came away with enough white fur to build my own polar bear. Still, no call from Iggy.
Eleven o’clock came too fast, and the knock on my front door startled me for a brief second before I regrouped and remembered. Paige. And her sister. Mia? Leah? Something like that.
I grabbed my purse and keys, double-checked that Midnight had a full water bowl, and opened my door.
Paige stood on my porch with a taller young lady with strawberry blond hair and lovely gold-green eyes. Both wore jeans and cable knit sweaters: Paige’s in silver gray, her sister’s a bright orange that set off her coloring to perfection.
“Good morning, cupcake,” Paige trilled. “You look delicious today. Jayne, this is my sister, Nia. Iggy’s boss. Nia, Dr. Jayne Herrera, new vet in town.”
“Hi,” Nia said. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same here,” I replied. “You’re Iggy’s boss?”
She shook her head. “Not what you think. Iggy works in my gift shop in town during the busy season. It’s more to help me out than actually working for me.”
Midnight meowed from his perch on the windowsill. “Oh, knock it off,” I scolded. “You won’t starve while I’m gone.”
“What a gorgeous cat!” Nia exclaimed. “What’s his name? His name? Her name?”
“His. Midnight.”
Nia burst into a fit of giggles. “Oh my God, that
’s wonderful! He’s a real beauty.” She wiggled her fingers near the screen. “Hello, Midnight, you pretty boy.”
“Thank you.” I pulled my door closed and followed the sisters off my porch, but only reached the driveway before my cell rang. “Whoops.” I reached into my purse, pulled out the ringing phone, and saw Iggy’s name on the screen. “It’s Iggy. I should take this.”
Both ladies nodded, patiently waiting near Paige’s yellow convertible.
I turned away from them, facing my house again, to gain some privacy. “Iggy? How are you? What’s going on? How’s your mom?”
“She’s asking for you.”
I shook my head to clear the questions buzzing in my brain. A few escaped anyway. “Who? Your mother?” Why on earth would she ask for me? We only met once and I barely spoke to her. “Are you sure?” Maybe the language barrier worked against him. He had mentioned he wasn’t as fluent in Polish as his mother.
“Yeah.” He sounded adamant. “How soon can you get here?”
Curious and confused, I could only answer, “Ten minutes?”
“Great. Thanks.” His inhale whistled through the receiver. “Sorry. I’m being insensitive. How are you? Everything go all right last night?”
“I had a good time. Your friends were great. And I think the vultures have taken off for meatier pastures. With luck, they won’t be back, but if they do return, I’m ready for them.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it all around.”
“How are you?”
“Tired. It’s been a rough night. She had another stroke yesterday, this one a lot worse. She’s gonna be here for a while. And, of course, she insists she’s fine and needs to get home.”
“I’m sorry. Can I bring you anything? Coffee? A bagel?” I was new to Long Island bagels, but understood their appeal and had already become addicted.
“No, thanks. Irenka and I hit the hospital cafeteria this morning. But, if you could, would you mind stopping at the house to check on Lucky? The poor dog’s been on his own since late yesterday afternoon. And I apologize in advance for the presents he’ll have left you.”