Last Whisper

by Carlene Thompson

  “I’ve smelled her cigarettes in my apartment.”

  “You think she comes into your apartment to smoke?”

  “No, silly, she simply reeks of those awful clove cigarettes she smokes all day. You can smell her coming twenty feet away. Her clothes and hair are saturated with the smell, which lingers. And she has access to Harry’s master keys.”

  “Do you think she steals?”

  “No, she’s too smart for that. People would complain and Harry would be on to her in a minute. He’s just looking for some excuse to be rid of her. I think he’s absolutely sick of her, desperate to be free, and she knows it.”

  “Don’t tell me she’s confided in you, too, that she thinks he’s having an affair.”

  “No, she doesn’t confide in me, but she doesn’t have to tell me what she’s thinking,” Stacy said. “She watches him like a hawk whenever he’s talking to a female. She actually likes you, so I think she’s ruled you out as the possible mistress—she thinks you’re too ethical to do such a thing as steal her man. I, on the other hand, am still under suspicion.”

  “Oh, really,” Brooke giggled. “She can’t possibly think you would betray Jay for Harry!” The thought of Harry with his big gut, dirty clothes, stupid remarks, and downright general distastefulness sent them both into fits of laughter. “I mean, I know you like to flirt, Stacy, but I thought you had limits.”

  Stacy adopted an accent. “I swear, Brooke, I seen Harry in that sweaty T-shirt with that fine spider locket of his’n and his stained ball cap, and I listened to all his witty talk, and I was just natcherly drawed to him. Couldn’t help myself.”

  “I guess I should have seen it before,” Brooke said seriously. “You two have so much in common. It’s a match made in Heaven.”

  “For that, I will go home and leave you to sleep here all alone,” Stacy returned with mock sternness. Then she added, “But Eunice does snoop. Look around every now and then and you’ll notice things moved—little things like pieces of jewelry or books.”

  Brooke said dutifully, “From now on, I will be ever-vigilant.”

  Feeling somewhat comforted by Stacy’s presence, Brooke finally went to sleep, dreaming with sweet sadness of her mother’s last whisper—“Good night, my angel.”

  2

  Brooke felt warm breath on her face. She opened her eyes slowly to see a round, black nose and clear, sherry-colored eyes looking back into hers not two inches away. “Elise?” she murmured. The dog licked her nose. “Elise, where’s Stacy?”

  Elise had nothing to say about the matter, so Brooke rose, noticing a bright sun pouring in between a crack in the curtains, and immediately spotted a note on the nightstand. She picked it up and read:

  Woke up at dawn with sniffles (so much for my tequila as antihistamine theory). Couldn’t go back to sleep, so I went home as it was almost morning and you were still safe and sleeping soundly. Talk to you later.

  Stacy

  “She probably didn’t have sniffles at all,” Brooke told Elise. “I’ll bet she just missed Jay. Maybe we’ll find true love like that someday.”

  Elise darted forward and kissed her fervently three times on the nose. “Well, not with each other!” Brooke laughed as she tossed back the covers, climbed out of bed, and parted the curtains farther. The sky was a beautiful periwinkle blue, the sun a bright marigold yellow. She glanced at the clock. Nine forty-five. She hadn’t slept this late for months. She felt completely rested, clearheaded, and, best of all, calm.

  The phone rang and she hesitated. Would this be another anonymous call, something to frighten her, to ruin this beautiful Sunday morning? She approached the phone slowly, then looked at the caller ID: Samuel Lockhart 555-8988. She closed her eyes in relief. Vincent.

  “Hello, Mr. Lockhart,” she said, picking up the handset.

  “You certainly sound cheerful this morning. Did you and Stacy hit it off as bedmates?”

  “I’m not going to touch that remark!” Brooke laughed. “As a matter of fact, when I woke up, she was gone. She left a note saying she’d left around dawn because of a case of sniffles she blamed on her allergy to dogs.”

  “Is Elise insulted?”

  “Hardly. She just took Stacy’s place in the bed and woke me up with a kiss.”

  “That is so romantic,” Vincent cooed.

  “Oh, be quiet. To what do I owe the honor of this early-morning call?”

  “It’s hardly early morning, at least not for me.”

  “Me neither. I have a job that starts at nine, you know.”

  “Well, you don’t have to work on Sundays, so I had an idea,” Vincent said. “Well, when I was but a young and inquisitive lad, I went to the planetarium at Sunrise Museum. Of course, the museum has been moved to the Clay Center, but I’ve heard the new planetarium is great. Have you been there yet?”

  “No. Robert was never interested and Stacy says places with planets whirling around her give her the creeps—”

  “That would mean Earth gives her the creeps,” Vincent said dryly.

  “I think she was referring particularly to planetariums, not the planet on which she lives,” Brooke returned tartly. “Anyway, I’ve never been there. I just never wanted to go alone.”

  “Great. How about seeing it with me this afternoon?”

  “This afternoon?”

  “Did you have something else planned? Not that it’s any of my business, but the next-door neighbor’s wife has left him—”

  “Oh, how sad,” Brooke interrupted.

  “Don’t waste your sympathy. The husband is a nice guy but a fool where his wife’s concerned. Anyway, she pulls this act on a regular basis. She leaves, supposedly forever, then returns home in a couple of weeks when he’s offered her an opulent gift, and all is well for another year. Anyway, the pining jerk is coming over to watch a baseball game with Dad this afternoon, so I have hours and hours of freedom, and I just thought—”

  “I would love to go,” Brooke said.

  “Lunch first?”

  “A light lunch. We ate way too much last night.”

  “It’s early. The show at the planetarium doesn’t start until two o’clock. We’ll see how hungry you are around one. I’ll pick you up at twelve thirty. Bye,” he said quickly, almost as if he was afraid she’d change her mind if he gave her a chance.

  Brooke looked at Elise. “Looks like I’m going to the planetarium for the first time in about eighteen years.” She frowned. She pulled her hair back in a ponytail, slipped on jogging shorts, a tank top, and sunglasses, and attached Elise’s leash. “Time for our morning run. And this time, young lady, we’re not going down any alleys,” she said, thinking of finding Robert’s body crumpled pitifully beside the Dumpster. “We’re staying in full view of our police surveillance team and we’re going to enjoy this beautiful morning. After our run, we’ll stop at the outside café down the street and I’ll buy us each a croissant.”

  As she was locking her door from the outside, Jay opened his. “Off for the morning run?” he asked. He was wearing a sweat suit but no shoes, and his sandy hair stood almost straight up. Brooke thought he looked tired, almost haggard.

  “Yes. Not a long run, but Elise and I have to keep our figures. Are you in the mood to go with us?”

  “God, no.”

  “Too much tequila?”

  “Remarkably, no. I just had trouble sleeping. Stayed up half the night watching TV and prowling around. Stacy’s fussing that I messed up the desk drawers.”

  “I should have her come over and clean up my place. It’s a wreck compared to yours. However, I’m not the neat freak she is.”

  “Sometimes it’s good not to be so neat. I remember my good old bachelor days when I was a complete slob.” Jay grimaced. “Well, maybe they weren’t so good. I never could find anything except week-old pizza under a pile of newspapers.”

  “Ugh.”

  “Yeah. Being a slob is highly overrated.” He smiled. “Stacy’s fixing some blueberry pancakes and
sausage. Want to fuel up before you take off?”

  “All that sugar and cholesterol would be defeating the purpose, Jay. Besides, we’re kind of in a hurry this morning. Vincent is coming by later and we’re going to the planetarium.”

  “Vincent, huh?” Jay gave her a rakish grin. “He’s keeping you busy, isn’t he?”

  “I think he’s trying to entertain me so I don’t worry so much about Zach.”

  “Oh yes, I’m sure that’s why he keeps asking you to go places with him,” Jay said drolly. “Altruistic chap.”

  “Chap?”

  “The English say it, and I’m very continental. It’s what attracts Stacy to me.”

  “I think there’s a little more to her attraction to you than your vocabulary,” Brooke laughed. “Well, we’re off. Enjoy your pancakes. And tell Stacy thanks for staying last night. She did make me feel more comfortable, not so alone. I appreciate it, even if she did get the sniffles.”

  Elise’s nose twitched madly at all the fresh morning scents. She took off like a rocket and Brooke had to work hard at keeping up with her. Brooke was aware of the surveillance car trailing them, but she tried to ignore it, hoping the few other people out on this beautiful morning didn’t notice them, either. Of course, if the purpose of the car had been treacherous—say they were potential kidnappers—she would have been out of luck, Brooke thought. No one looked twice at them. People were either naïve, uninterested, or unwilling to get involved. Unfortunately, none of those adjectives spoke highly of the human race.

  Elise seemed particularly full of energy. Brooke, however, was growing tired and sweating more than usual. Too much food and liquor last night, she thought. It was a good thing she didn’t make a habit of drinking or ignoring her diet or she’d be out of shape quickly. She wasn’t one of those lucky women like Stacy who never seemed to pay any attention to exercise or what they ate, yet managed to stay slim and taut.

  As she’d promised, Brooke stopped with Elise at a small café, where she bought a cappuccino and two croissants, one for her and one for Elise. The two of them headed for a single table outside shaded by a bright umbrella. Elise, as usual, ate daintily and much slower than Brooke. Then she licked her front paws to make sure she got every crumb of the delicious treat.

  “Sorry I’m not much of a cook,” Brooke told the dog. “Otherwise, I could make these at home. But maybe that wouldn’t be as much fun as ‘dining out’ after a brisk run on such a pretty day.”

  Elise lay quietly by her feet as Brooke sipped her cappuccino. The day seemed incredibly bright. Birds hopped importantly from branch to branch of a tree growing beside the café. In the yard next to it, two little boys of around five played Frisbee, laughing uproariously every time they managed to catch it. Then one boy missed, the Frisbee hit him in the head with insignificant force, and he began screaming as if he’d been attacked with an ax.

  In a moment, the mother appeared, scooped him up in her arms, kissed him passionately, murmured loving words to him, then ordered both boys into the house with the voice of a fishwife. Brooke couldn’t help laughing, knowing the child wasn’t really hurt, mostly just mad that he’d missed the Frisbee. She reached down and rubbed Elise’s head. “Nothing to worry about,” she said. “I guarantee he’ll recover in about three minutes.” The dog looked satisfied and began gazing up at the birds again. What a perfect day, Brooke thought.

  And then she felt it. A tingle along her arms, a tickle at the back of her neck, the creeping feeling that a gaze was crawling over her. It wasn’t the scrutiny of the surveillance cops. She’d grown used to that sensation. This was entirely different. Curious, yes, but also guarded. A secret appraisal.

  Brooke set down her cappuccino and casually glanced around her. None of the children was looking at her, but then, she’d known she wasn’t feeling the gaze of a child. The few adults on the street were focused on children or each other. She even turned around and looked in the window of the café. Vaguely she saw the owner making a sale to a well-dressed woman who was sharply watching him put her pastry in the bag as if she thought he might try to short her.

  Next Brooke surveyed the cars parked along the street. A black SUV. A dark green Cavalier. A silver Taurus. A red Firebird. Each car appeared empty.

  No one she could see appeared to be watching her, but someone was taking in her every move. She noticed the tremor in her hand and immediately forced it still. She would not betray nervousness. She would never let the person who watched her know she was frightened.

  “Okay, girl, we’ve dawdled long enough,” Brooke said to Elise. “Time to get home for a shower. Vincent will be coming to see us soon.”

  On the walk home, Brooke wondered if she should have approached the surveillance car and told them she felt someone’s gaze on her. Then she decided that it would have been impossible for them to spot anyone in the crowded neighborhood. She also didn’t want them to feel she was growing into the nervous type, crying “wolf” over everything. If they lost faith in her judgment, she could lose her life if they weren’t quick enough to believe her when she was absolutely certain something was wrong.

  As Brooke and Elise entered the apartment building lobby, Eunice Dormer darted at them, wringing her hands. She wore one of her flowered housedresses that all looked alike and house slippers over a pair of white socks. Her mousy hair had arranged itself in thin, limp curls around her damp, flushed face. And Stacy was right, Brooke thought. The woman did smell of cloves. “Have you seen Harry?” Eunice demanded.

  “No. Elise and I went out for a run and we just got back. Eunice, are you all right?”

  “My insulin shot is overdue. Two hours overdue. That makes me nervous and Harry knows it makes me nervous.”

  “Can’t you give it to yourself?” Brooke asked.

  For once Eunice gave her a hard look. “No, I cannot. I suppose you think that makes me a fool.”

  “Well, no, it just seems that if you really need it and you can’t find Harry—”

  “I can’t do it. I could inject air into a blood vessel. Do you know what that could do to you?”

  “I think it would have to be a major vessel, Eunice, and what are the chances—”

  “I don’t take chances with my health!” Eunice burst out. “Besides, a needle going into my skin—I can’t even look at it, much less do it myself. And don’t you offer to give it to me, because I know you don’t know any more about giving shots than I do!”

  “I wasn’t going to, Eunice. I was going to suggest you go to the hospital.”

  “Hospital!” Eunice looked horrified. “Do you know what they’d charge just to give me this stupid shot? And I’d be around all those sick people with their flu germs and God knows what else. They haven’t found a cure for Ebola, you know!”

  “I don’t think Ebola is really going around here,” Brooke said faintly.

  “I want Harry!” Eunice looked like she was going to cry. “This is Harry’s job. He knows how to do it fast and so it doesn’t hurt. Where is he?”

  Brooke paused, thinking. She had a good idea that Harry, miraculously, had found a mistress and was simply spending the morning with her, losing track of time. But, of course, Brooke couldn’t say this to Eunice. “I don’t know what to tell you,” she said truthfully. “Is your car in the parking lot? If not, he could have run out on an errand and had a flat tire.”

  “You’re right! I’ll bet anything that’s what’s happened,” Eunice pounced, although Brooke saw the doubt in her eyes. She was thinking the same thing Brooke was about another woman. Nevertheless, Eunice was darting toward the rear parking lot, thankfully before Brooke had to offer another possible excuse for Harry’s absence.

  “She’s absolutely desperate not to lose him,” Brooke muttered to an oblivious Elise. “Even though he’s a creep, having her so dependent must be a drag for him. I almost feel sorry for the guy. Almost.”

  Upstairs, Brooke tried to decide on an appropriate outfit for the planetarium. Casual slacks, or a
sundress? She decided on a pale blue sundress paired with high-heeled white sandals and a necklace with a shell pendant cut into the shape of a flower. She pulled her hair up over her ears so matching earrings could show and twirled in front of Elise. “Too formal? Skirt the right length? Any price or size tags showing?”

  She took Elise’s silence as an approval of the outfit, and as Brooke was gathering some toys for the dog to play while she was gone, as if Elise couldn’t choose her own toys, someone knocked on the door. “It’s me,” Vincent called. “Ready for a space odyssey?” Brooke unlocked the door and flung it open. Vincent’s eyes widened. “Wow! If any aliens saw you, they’d keep you! You look fabulous.”

  “Thank you, but I didn’t know aliens were interested in fashion.”

  “Oh yes,” Vincent said seriously as he stepped into the apartment. “That’s why they return so many of their abductees. The humans were dressed so badly the aliens didn’t want to keep them on board.”

  “Vincent, you should be writing science fiction,” Brooke said.

  “I’ve given it serious thought. I think my ideas are highly sophisticated.”

  “Or maybe you should stick with true crime.”

  “Was that an insult?”

  “Only to your sophisticated science-fiction theories. You won’t be spouting any aloud at the planetarium, will you?”

  “I’m afraid only someone like Stephen Hawking could understand me.”

  “Yes, well, you go right on dreaming if it makes you happy, Mr. Lockhart.” She glanced at his khaki pants and casual green shirt with long sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “You’re looking pretty spiffy yourself, today.”

  Vincent rolled his eyes. “My father thought I should wear a suit.”

  “To the planetarium?”

  “It’s Sunday.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know he was that religious.”

  “He didn’t, either, until about a month ago. He seems to recall that earlier in his life—like ten years ago—he was a deacon in his church. I don’t remember his ever belonging to a church.”