by Marie Astor
Janet was so consumed by her self-pitying thoughts that when she heard her doorbell ring, she nearly jumped. She rushed to the front door and opened it.
“Mrs. Chapman!” Janet plastered a bright smile on her face, struggling to conceal her disappointment. She really wasn’t in the mood for one of Mrs. Chapman’s chats tonight, but then her neighbor’s visit was her own fault. She should’ve stopped by Mrs. Chapman’s and thanked her for walking Baxter, which was their custom.
“Janet, dear. I just wanted to say hello and make sure everything was all right.” Mrs. Chapman smiled sweetly.
“Everything is great. Thank you so much for walking Baxter. Did he behave?”
As if on cue, the sound of Baxter’s hurrying paws was heard in the foyer, as he raced to inspect the unexpected visitor. At the sight of Mrs. Chapman, he barked with approval, pawing at her legs.
“Baxter! How many times do I have to tell you? That’s no way to behave.” Janet bent down and picked him up.
“Oh, it’s all right.” Mrs. Chapman scratched his neck. “He’s such a good boy,” she gushed. “I tell you, I love Dennis to tears and I’m very happy for you two, but it’s a shame you’re moving—I’m going to miss Baxter so.”
“You can always come by and visit,” Janet said, setting Baxter on the floor. The way things are going it’s unlikely we’ll find a place any time soon though, she wanted to add, but held her tongue.
“Good. And don’t you think I won’t take you up on your offer. An old lady like me doesn’t get out too often.”
“I hardly think that’s true, Mrs. Chapman,” Janet joked. An active member of the local community center, Mrs. Chapman was constantly organizing a dance or a concert or some other social event. Janet and Dennis were always invited, but rarely attended due to the fact that most of these events had a demographic of sixty five and older. Baxter, on the other hand, was frequently the guest of honor.
“So, how did the wedding cake tasting go?” Mrs. Chapman asked.
“It went fine, just fine.” Janet regretted sharing her plans with Mrs. Chapman. With a fiancé like Dennis, one had to be careful or risk humiliating explanations. “I got a whole bag full of samples—would you like to come in and try some? I’ll make tea,” Janet added, changing her mind about Mrs. Chapman’s company—at least she wouldn’t be stuffing her face with cake alone.
“Thank you, dear. I don’t mind if I do.” Mrs. Chapman stepped inside.
“Make yourself comfortable.” Janet pointed at the couch in the living room. “I’ll just turn the kettle on.”
“Thank you. I’ll just turn the TV on. Let me know if you need me to help in the kitchen.”
“Oh, no, thank you. I got it.”
Janet made her way to the kitchen, rejoicing in her cleverness. Mrs. Chapman had a sweet tooth, and she sure loved her tea—so far her ploy to keep her off the topic of Dennis seemed to work.
While waiting for the water to boil, Janet took out a tray and began to unpack the cake samples that Francois Bissette had prepared. Her eyes widened with admiration as she eyed the bag’s contents. She had expected mere slices, but instead she had found miniature wedding cakes, each the size of a cupcake.
Janet carried the tray into the living room. “Please, help yourself.”
“My, these are adorable!” Mrs. Chapman eyed the elaborate confections with admiration. “They’re almost too pretty to eat.”
“Please, dig in,” Janet urged her, worried if Mrs. Chapman didn’t help her, she might devour the entire tray herself, drowning in self-pity. “I’ll just get the tea.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice, Janet, dear.” Mrs. Chapman cut a piece from one of the cakes and put it on her plate. She took a bite and savored it. “My, these are as good as they look! Absolutely delicious.”
“I’m glad you like them,” Janet called out from the kitchen. She picked up the tea mugs and headed back to the living room.
“Like them? It’s one of the most delicious things I’ve ever tasted, not to mention the prettiest. You know I’ll be expecting my invitation to the wedding in the mail, right? Just because we’re neighbors doesn’t mean you get to skimp out on the card.”
“Oh, of course, Mrs. Chapman. You’ll be the first to receive your invitation.” If we ever get around to mailing them out, Janet thought, but held her tongue.
As if reading her mind, Mrs. Chapman continued, “So which cake have you decided upon for the wedding?”
“Oh, we haven’t actually decided yet,” Janet confessed, figuring that there was no way of fooling Mrs. Chapman.
“Didn’t Dennis like any of the cakes?”
“He hasn’t tasted them.” Janet blinked, sensing treacherous wetness in her eyes.
Mrs. Chapman set down her plate. “Oh, Janet, dear, what’s wrong? Me and my big mouth—I didn’t mean to upset you. Are you two going through a rough patch?”
Janet sobbed, nodding. “I think so.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really. But you’re going to ask me about it anyway, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Not because I want to rub it in or some such thing, but because I consider myself to be your friend, albeit a much older one. And if there’s one thing that friends are good for, it’s talking about things that hurt. Talking helps—believe me—I know.”
Janet sighed. “Dennis didn’t come to the cake tasting with me.”
“Well, why the heck not?”
“He said he had to work.”
“And? You caught him with a mistress?” Mrs. Chapman exclaimed excitedly and then instantly covered her mouth. “Don’t mind me. I’ve watched too many movies. I’m sure he had a reasonable explanation.”
Janet was about to blurt out the entire story, but caught herself just in time—who knew what trail of dirt Mila Brabec might be dragging behind her? The last thing Janet wanted was to put Mrs. Chapman in danger by inadvertently telling her things that might turn out to be harmful. After all, as gossipy as she was, Janet loved the old lady like she was kin. “I can’t tell you the specifics, but I can say that I saw him with a girl, a very good-looking girl.”
“I don’t care how good-looking she is, she can’t be prettier than you,” Mrs. Chapman said adamantly. “And if Dennis can’t see that, well then he’s just an idiot and not at all the smart gentleman I thought him to be.”
Janet smiled. “Thanks for trying to cheer me up, but I’m afraid she’s prettier than me, a lot prettier.”
Mrs. Chapman shook her head. “I don’t believe it. What does she look like?”
“Like a model. She’s got a body that could stop traffic and she’s not afraid to show it.”
“Tsk!” Mrs. Chapman shrugged. “Not all men go for those bony giraffe types. And as for showing it, there should be some mystique left in a woman.”
“Yes, well, that may be, but the two of them were getting pretty cozy.”
“Did you see him kiss her?”
“No.”
“So what’s the trouble? Maybe it was a business meeting. She could have the information Dennis needs. Sometimes even a bimbo can be useful.”
“Maybe. But why did he lie to me about it? Why didn’t he tell me he was meeting her? And why did he have to ditch our wedding cake tasting to meet her?”
“Maybe it was urgent. And maybe he didn’t tell you because he didn’t want to upset you or maybe it’s something very dangerous and he wanted to protect you.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better—that he’d put himself in danger for that bimbo and blow off our wedding cake tasting.”
Mrs. Chapman patted Janet’s shoulder. “Sometimes men do irrational things. As women, it’s our job to forgive them.”
“Why?” Janet bristled at Mrs. Chapman’s old-fashioned statement.
“Because when you love a man you have to be willing to cut him some slack. Trust me, I know—I was married for a long time and now that my husband is no longer with us, all the arguments w
e had seem mere trifles. It’s important to remember what the important things are,” Mrs. Chapman added sagely.
Janet nodded—it was hard to argue against the old lady’s sobering statement. “I guess you’re right.”
“I know I’m right. I’ve lived a long life, even if I don’t like admitting to it.”
“So what should I do? Pretend I don’t know anything about it? Keep up the charade?”
Mrs. Chapman squeezed Janet’s arm. “Just talk to him, Janet. Sometimes, life causes us to drift apart from our loved ones, but if you listen to your inner compass, you’ll always find the way back. If I ever saw two people in love, it’s you and Dennis. It shouldn’t be too hard for you two to find a common ground.”
“I’ll try.”
“Trying isn’t good enough. You have to genuinely want to make it work.” Mrs. Chapman patted Janet’s arm and got up to her feet. “Time for this old bird to call it a night. You’ve got a lot of thinking to do, young lady.”
Suddenly, Janet didn’t want to be alone. “Couldn’t you stay for another cup of tea?”
“Some other night, dear. I think you could use some quiet time right now.” Mrs. Chapman petted Baxter behind the ear. “See you soon, Baxter. Be a good boy now, your mommy needs time to think. Good night, Janet. Everything is going to work out—you’ll see.”
At the sound of the front door shutting behind Mrs. Chapman, Janet sighed and rubbed her temples. Up until a few minutes ago, she had been basking in her own righteousness, looking forward to reading Dennis the riot act, but now she wasn’t so sure. Could it be that Mrs. Chapman had a point? Maybe. It was impossible to deny that Janet had been a little antsy with the wedding planning and the apartment search. Could it be that she was overreacting? But the thought that Dennis had ditched their wedding cake appointment to see Mila made her blood boil. And to think she’d actually felt sorry for Mila at some point! So much for being charitable to people—the minute you gave them the benefit of the doubt, they stabbed you in the back and lured your fiancé into a questionable rendezvous. “Argh,” Janet groaned, wondering where on earth Dennis was now. Was he still with Mila, listening to her sultry voice while she batted her eyelashes at him? Janet thought of calling him, but decided against it. Let him call her—after all, he was the one who had all the explaining to do.
Just then she heard her doorbell ring. Baxter barked excitedly and darted for the door.
“Hang on, Baxter.” Janet rushed after him. “Let’s see who it is first.” She hurried to the foyer, but was too late—Baxter had already announced his presence with a loud bark. “Who is it?” Janet asked cautiously.
“It’s me.”
At the sound of Dennis’s voice Janet exhaled with relief and Baxter barked exuberantly. Dennis had his own key, so he rarely rang the bell when he was coming over. However, it made sense that he did so tonight—he must’ve figured out that Janet would be mad at him. Dennis Walker was many things, but unobservant wasn’t one of them.
As irked as she was, Janet couldn’t deny she was exhilarated to see her fiancé on her doorstep—Mrs. Chapman was right—she was head over heels for the bugger. The important thing now was to remain calm and not spoil everything by overreacting. Janet took a deep breath and flung open the door.
“What’s going on?” she asked upon seeing her fiancé with a suitcase in his hand. Dennis often stayed at her place and he usually kept a change of clothes in her closet, but now he looked ready to move in.
“I’ll explain in a minute. Can I come in?”
Perplexed, Janet stepped aside.
Dennis quickly shut the door behind him, carefully locking all the locks, including the door chain. Then he checked the peephole and only after that proceeded into the living room. There, he collapsed onto the couch and closed his eyes, completely oblivious to Janet or Baxter, who had been trying to get his attention with loud, excited barks.
“Calm down, Baxter.” Janet scratched Baxter behind the ear and took a seat next to Dennis. “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice filled with concern. Questioning Dennis about Mila could wait. She knew Dennis well enough to guess something was seriously wrong.
Dennis groaned. “Where do I start? I had one hell of a day.”
“Try at the beginning,” Janet suggested.
“Thanks. Can I get a drink first? A scotch would be perfect right now.”
“Sure,” Janet resisted the urge for a sarcastic remark—she could tell that Dennis was really shaken up. She got up from the couch and headed for the kitchen cupboard where she kept the liquor. She reached for a bottle of Pinch and poured two drinks—she could use a drink too—and then settled back into her seat.
Dennis took a glass from her hand and drained it in one gulp.
“Looks like you need a refill.” Janet headed back into the kitchen and this time returned with the entire bottle.
Dennis poured himself three fingers worth of scotch and drained half his glass. Janet didn’t say anything, waiting for him to finally spit it out.
“Remember when I told you the Kovars article was a sham?”
Janet nodded, instantly connecting the dots. So that’s what the meeting with Mila was all about—the Kovars were back and she was reaching out to Dennis for protection. “Yes, so?” Janet asked innocently, not wanting to admit she knew more than she was supposed to.
“Mila Brabec called me today.”
“She was the one you were meeting with tonight?” Janet asked, already knowing the answer.
Dennis nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you—I wanted to protect you. Mila was terrified when she called me, and I wanted to know exactly what we were dealing with before telling you.”
Janet resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This better not be some story about a damsel in distress, she thought irritably.
“Mila found a note from Anton Kovar in her apartment.”
Dennis’s words hit Janet like a cannonball. “What? How’s that possible—” she cut herself off, remembering Dennis’s reaction to the article. Even back then she had inwardly known Dennis’s hunch was correct. She just didn’t want to admit it, having much more important things on her mind, like planning the wedding and finding that perfect apartment. “What did the note say?” Janet asked slowly. “Are you sure it was from Anton Kovar and not from some other dirt bag Mila used to date?”
Dennis shook his head. “I’m sure. She showed me the note—it was addressed to ‘Milochka’—a pet name Anton used for Mila. It said, ‘I’d go to the end of the earth to find you.’ That’s what he used to say to her when they were together, so she wouldn’t leave him.”
“How romantic,” Janet quipped, but inside she was far from feeling humorous.
“Mila found the note in her apartment the same night her bar had burned down. I’d say it wasn’t a coincidence.”
“No, it probably wasn’t.”
“It was stupid of me not to tell you right away—whatever it is I get into, you have the right to know. And I’m sorry I missed our wedding cake appointment,” Dennis added, his glance falling on the remnants of the wedding cake samples. “These look delicious.”
Janet shook her head. “Forget about it. It’s just cake.” She felt completely deflated. Her earlier anger seemed pointless now in the face of the potential danger hanging over them. The possibility of Anton Kovar as a surprise guest at their wedding was unnerving.
“I told Mila to stay at my apartment until we figure things out—”
“What?” Janet couldn’t believe the words coming out of Dennis’s mouth. “Why would you put yourself into such danger? We need to go straight to the FBI—”
“Calm down, Janet,” Dennis cut her off. “Don’t you think I’ve already considered this option? The Kovars probably have someone on the inside helping them, which makes going to the authorities out of the question until we figure out what we’re dealing with.”
“We don’t know that for sure. We need to alert the FBI right away and we need to
tell Ham. I can’t believe you’re being so reckless.” And pigheaded, Janet wanted to add, but bit her tongue.
“Going to the FBI would be reckless,” Dennis shot back. “Come on, Janet, you can do better than that. The nifty accident that’s been arranged to cover up the Kovars’ escape, and the fact that there’s been no investigation into their deaths tells me there’s someone covering the whole thing up. Someone who’s very high up.”
“So what’s your plan? To have Mila shack up at your place indefinitely? It’s not your job to protect her. You can’t do it by yourself—”
“No,” Dennis admitted. “I was hoping you would help me.”
“And what, you expect me to stop being mad at you just because you asked for my help? I don’t think so,” Janet fumed. “You’ve gotten into enough crazy schemes, but this one takes the cake—no pun intended. The right thing to do is to go to the authorities and that’s what we’re going to do. I’m not having Mila staying at your apartment—that’s crossing the line.”
Dennis eyed her incredulously. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of Mila?”
“Jealous? Jealous of what?” Janet bristled. The thought of Mila lounging around in her fiancé’s apartment bothered her immensely, but there was no way in hell she was going to admit to it.
“Of Mila staying at my place. Is this what this is about? I told you I’m sorry for not telling you right away, but you’ve got to see the bigger picture. We can’t go to the FBI—not until we know about this whole sham accident the Kovars had planned or we might tip off their inside source.”
“And how do you propose we find that out?”
“We use our own resources. I thought I’d ask Laskin to do some digging for us.”
“Laskin? The Treasury wouldn’t know anything about something like this.”