by Lucia Sinn
Tony’s deceased father, Vern, a tall, imposing man with a genteel manner, had been no match for Louise. She’d had a million opinions and an iron will. All of this coated with a veneer of charm rivaling the Queen of England.
Cara’s stomach soured at the thought of facing Tony’s mother when she had so much on her mind. “I’ll see her before I leave this afternoon,” she said.
Casey separated the message from the pile at her feet and handed it to Cara. “No,” she said. “This says ASAP.”
So like Mrs. Cabella to demand immediate attention. “All right, but I should be back soon.”
Cara’s hostility dissolved into sympathy when she saw Mrs. Cabella lying in bed with an oxygen mask and tubes attached to her arms, hooked up to various machines. Her once robust cheeks were pale and withered, her puffy eyes narrowed to slits. She moaned softly when Cara walked into her room. “My baby,” she said. “They’ve taken her. What am I going to do? And where is Tony? ”
Cara could not believe that yet another person thought she would have some inkling of Tony’s whereabouts. But she knew Mrs. Cabella was desperate and grief stricken. She squatted low, looking into the woman’s eyes. “No, I don’t know where Tony is. But I’ve talked to the police and they are doing everything they can to find Angie.”
Mrs. Cabella lifted a trembling hand and held it out for Cara to grasp. Her swollen fingers felt like latex gloves filled with ice water. “But no one has called to ask for a ransom the way they did with Doug.” she said.
“Someone’s called about Doug? Why hasn’t that been on the news?”
“It’s supposed to be a secret. They called Tony and said that if he told the FBI about it, Doug would be killed.”
“How can I help you right now,” Cara asked. “Could I bring you something special, some chicken soup, maybe?”
“No, I have no appetite. What’s worrying me is that Jeff King has been up here.”
“He’s already been in to see you?”
“No, I saw him walking past my door. I’m afraid of him; I don’t want him near me.”
“Why is that?”
Mrs. Cabella’s eyes went to the door and back. “He knew Janie out in California, before she lost her husband.”
“Janie’s husband died?” Cara had assumed she was divorced.
“Yes, it was so sudden. And poor little Ana, she lost her Daddy. She’s still not over it, you know. They’ve had to put her on anti-depressants.”
“What happened? Was there an accident?”
“Yes, a car accident. They thought he was going to be fine, and then suddenly, he was gone. They thought it was probably heart failure.”
“Did they do an autopsy?”
“No, Janie didn’t want it, and there was no reason to do one. No sign of foul play. Janie moved back here as soon as she sold her house. And that’s when Jeff King showed up.”
“So, is Jeff a boyfriend? “ Cara was surprised that Janie would be interested in someone so much younger. But then again, perhaps he was older than he appeared.
“I don’t know what he is. Janie claims he’s just a friend that she’s trying to help with his career. But he’s done some very upsetting things.”
Cara’s felt like she’d been hit with a thunderbolt. What in the world was going on with Tony’s sister and that obnoxious Jeff King? Worse yet, what did it all have to do with her?
Mrs. Cabella spoke with effort. “The first time I met Jeff King, Janie and I had been out shopping for little Ana. She’d outgrown her clothes and needed a new bathing suit.”
“Don’t try to talk anymore,” Cara said.
Mrs. Cabella took a few short breaths, and continued in a hoarse voice. “We got back around five in the afternoon. The hallway was dark, but the light was on in the kitchen, and I could smell garlic and parmesan cheese. I looked at Janie, thinking there was an intruder in the house. But Janie just laughed and said, “Don’t worry, Mom, I have a surprise.”
Mrs. Cabella paused for a few minutes to catch her breath before going on. “I couldn’t figure out what Janie had done. Maybe made a casserole and put it in the oven to cook while we were gone? Then out of the kitchen and into the hallway walks this man. A stranger, smiling as though he was perfectly at home. I nearly dropped my packages. Janie introduced him as her friend, Jeff King.”
Mrs. Cabella motioned toward her water glass. Cara held the straw to her lips and said, “you don’t need to talk anymore. I understand.”
Louise lifted her head with effort and swallowed a few sips before resuming her story.
“She led me into the dining room, and he had set the table with my good lace tablecloth and crystal candleholders and good silver and a lovely centerpiece of red roses. Janie said he was someone she’d known in California who had recently come here to finish his internship at ISU, and she’d arranged for him to fix us a fancy vegetarian meal. I took an instant dislike to him. I don’t like tall skinny men. And those little pig eyes of his and those snaggly teeth.”
Cara processed this information while a nurse stopped in the room to take Mrs. Cabella’s temperature and check her pulse. She looked at Cara. “You only can stay five more minutes.”
Cara stood up to leave, but the old woman went on talking.
“The meal was not to my liking,” she said. “He had made something with eggplant and tomatoes--horrible. I’m on a bland diet and can’t eat anything acidic or spicy. There was a fancy salad with bitter lettuce, which naturally, I couldn’t have. The only thing I could nibble at was the bread--it was fresh and good. Ana couldn’t eat a bite. She finally had a bowl of Cheerios. I was dumbfounded, and went straight up to my room, leaving them to clean up. Of course, I didn’t go to sleep. I thought I heard the door close downstairs about nine o’clock, so I assumed the man had left. My mouth was dry and I went down for a drink of ice water. The house was dark, except for a light in the den. To my surprise, the two of them were in there. The side drawer on my desk was open, and they had taken out some files. I demanded to know what they were doing. Janie was flustered, but this Jeff person was cool as a cucumber--said he was helping Janie with some of her legal papers, things to do with her husband’s death.”
“But why are you afraid of him?”
“I don’t like the way he sneaks around our house. I‘ve told her I want him to leave. We have terrible arguments, with her saying how lonely she’s been--that she doesn’t have any friends.”
The coronary care nurse appeared at the door and looked at Cara, pointing to her watch.
Cara squeezed Mrs. Cabella’s hand. “Sorry, I have to go.”
Louise gripped Cara’s wrist. A cry of anguish came from deep in her throat. “He’s doing something in my basement,” she said. “Last night, when I tried to open the door and turn on the light, I found he’d had a shiny new lock put on it. When I confronted him, he said he and Janie were worried I’d tried to walk downstairs and maybe fall. He said it was for my own protection. But when I demanded that he open the door, he said he’d misplaced the key. That’s when my right arm began to hurt. I made it upstairs all right, but sometime during the night, I woke up with chest pains, and called for Janie. And that’s how I ended up in here.”
“I’ll be back to see you tomorrow,” Cara said. She backed out of the room and walked through the unit where someone was warming up a pizza in a microwave oven. Cara gagged at the smell of pepperoni wafting through the hallway, wondering how it would go down if you’d just had a heart attack.
Mrs. Cabella’s words bounced around in Cara’s mind. It was clear she disapproved of Jeff and disliked him. But had he actually done anything wrong? So what if Jeff had been in the basement? A male visiting a houseful of females might easily have reason to go to down there: maybe to check the fuse box or do some laundry. What would be so upsetting? Still, there had been urgency in Mrs. Cabella’s voice. And she had never been a lady who frightened easily.
Somehow, Cara had to find a way into that basement. But first, sh
e was going to make a call to California.
* * *
Cara waited until four o’clock to call her friend Nancy. That would be just after lunch in Oakland--downtime in most hospital nutrition departments. Time for paperwork and computer updating, after a morning spent seeing patients.
Nancy answered the phone in her most professional manner: “This is Nancy Foreman speaking, how may I help you?”
Cara smiled to herself remembering a fun-loving blonde with baby-doll eyes who danced on tables after football games. “You may help me by saying you recognize my voice,” Cara teased. It’s been awhile.”
“Cara Mackenzie. Of course I recognize that Southern Indiana drawl. I think I lost mine about five years back. But it’s sure good to hear from you.”
“I hope this isn’t a bad time to call.”
“No worse than any other. What’s up?”
“You knew I moved back to Lewiston, didn’t you? After my divorce?”
“Yes, I heard about you from some of the Indiana dietitians at last year’s national meeting in Seattle,” Nancy said. ‘I’m sorry you weren’t there.”
“It was a bad time. My mom had just died, and I was new on the job. What about you? Still going with that good looking stockbroker?”
“No. It didn’t work out. My love life sucks at this moment. How can you meet a man in a hospital full of female nurses and married doctors?”
“I’m sure you’ll find someone soon,” Cara said. “But I didn’t call to check on your love life.”
“What is it? Thinking of coming out for a visit?”
“Don’t I wish. But no, this is a work question. “Are you active in your local ADA chapter?”
“Sure. I seldom miss a meeting.”
“Then you’ve probably met Dr. Rozgonyi from Berkeley. You know, the doctor who was doing all that research?”
“Sure, everyone knew Dr. Rozgonyi. It was such a shock, the way she left.”
“Really? What happened?”
“Her sister died very suddenly.”
“So, what did she do that was so shocking?”
“She called in her resignation on the telephone. Quit before the end of the term. Never even went back to clean out her office. No one could believe she would do something so unprofessional. But she said she needed to take some time off, that she was so upset she couldn’t go on.”
“Well, you’ll be happy to know Dr. Rozgonyi came out of it just fine.” Cara said. “Did you know she’s here at Sycamore Hospital?”
“No! That’s amazing. Lucky you.”
The memory of Cara’s unpleasant encounters with Dr. Rozgonyi flashed through her mind. “You mean, she was popular, well liked?”
“Of course. She was just the kindest person. I guess that would explain why she would be upset about her sister. I mean, she really cared about people. So anyway, what did you want to know about her?”
Cara was confused. She couldn’t imagine Dr. Rozgonyi as a kind, caring person. But if that’s how Nancy felt, she wasn’t going to disagree. “She’s trying to start a new Alternative Medicine Center,” Cara said. “I wondered if she had some success with it out there.
“Alternative medicine? That could mean a lot of different things.”
“Yes, in this case, she’s promoting the vegetarian life style.”
“Hmm. She must have gone through some sort of epiphany since she left. I sat at a table with her after an ADA workshop a couple of years ago. It was at the Adam’s Mark. Quite a fancy affair, and you could order from the menu. Naturally, they offered low calorie foods and lots of fruits and vegetables, but I distinctly remember being surprised when Dr. Rozgonyi was the only one at our table who had the nerve to order beef tournedos. No one said anything, of course. Who would question a Physician Nutrition Specialist? But she laughed about it, said she believed in eating a variety of foods. She also had a glass of wine. You see what I mean? She was just very down to earth and sensible. A lot of fun.”
“Well, thanks, Nancy. You’ve been very helpful. It was great talking to you.” Cara put down the phone and stared out toward the kitchen. She was seriously beginning to doubt her own judgment. If she was the only one who found Rozgonyi disagreeable, would did it say about her? Obviously, she needed an attitude adjustment.
She opened her drawer and picked up the folder from last night. Maybe if she re-read the article, it would shed some new light on Rozgonyi’s unique abilities and personality.
But when Cara opened the folder, she found it empty, the clipping gone.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
GAIL
GAIL CALLED TONY twice on Monday afternoon and left him messages about Angie’s disappearance. When he didn’t return her calls, she convinced herself that no news was good news. These things took time. If something had gone sour with getting Doug, he would have let her know right away.
Janie was convinced Tony wasn’t telling the truth, but until Gail knew for sure just exactly what was going on, she planned to take him at his word and hope he was negotiating with the kidnappers right now.
The whiskey had worn off and the caffeine kicked in, along with a surge of energy. Janie had said the police were coming soon. It wouldn’t do for them to see her drunk and disheveled. Gail took a long hot shower, brushed her teeth, gargled mouthwash, and blow dried her hair. She pulled on a soft pink silk sweater over black tights, thinking that the color pink was supposed to have a calming effect on a person’s mood.
At five o’clock, the red haired Detective McAuliffe stopped by to talk with her, and she was proud of the way she covered up the truth , saying that Tony was away on business and Angie had been staying with her grandmother when she disappeared. And when he’d asked her if it was possible Tony might be with another woman, she immediately brought up Cara’s name, even though she was pretty sure Cara would not be having an affair with her husband. Anything to throw him off.
After McAuliffe left, Cara went upstairs to Doug’s room. His unmade bed smelled of boy sweat and was littered with tortilla chips. She would change his sheets and straighten up. After what he’d been through, he deserved a clean room. As she yanked off the comforter, she spotted several girlie magazines under the bed. Damn it, Tony shouldn’t leave those things out for a young boy to find. Disgusted, she picked them up and flipped through the pages, startled to see that someone had ripped out several pictures of the models. In the top drawer of Doug’s desk, she found cut outs of naked woman. Funny, she hadn’t realized Doug would have an interest in such things.
She felt a pressure on her heart, realizing she hadn’t paid Doug much attention after meeting Tony. That’s what good, hot sex did to you. Made you forget about the child you’d had with a man you no longer had any feelings for. Well that was all going to change when Doug came back. She would enroll him in tennis lessons and join the PTA and encourage him to have friends for sleepovers. For his sake, she would try to make a go of it with Tony. All of them could go for family counseling. Please God, if only you’ll bring him back, I’ll be the best mother in the world.
Gail kept the television on all day, flipping back and forth between CNN and Fox News. She had the hope that right in the middle of a broadcast, someone would break in and announce that a kidnapped boy had been found and reunited with his stepfather.
Angie’s supposed disappearance seemed too bizarre to be real. Gail felt strangely distanced from it. She tried to summon up some worry about Angie, but all she could think about was Doug.
At nine o’clock, feeling as hung over as she’d ever been in her life, she took an Ambien and went to bed.
* * *
On Tuesday, at 4:30 p. m, Gail heard Tony’s car pulling into the garage. Heart pounding, she raced downstairs. Her hands trembled so violently that she could scarcely turn the door knob on the back door.
Tony appeared at the door looking haggard and unshaven, with grey pouches rimming his eyes.
She felt a rise of panic when she saw that he was alone. “Where’
s Doug?” she cried. “You said you would be bringing him home.”
He ducked his head, refusing to look into her eyes. “Something went wrong. They didn’t call back.”
“After you’d gotten the money?”
“Yes, I had it all bagged up, just like they asked. “
“You have it now? In case they call again?”
“No, I locked it up in a safe box immediately. The kidnappers could have been following me, just waiting for a chance to take it.” Tony turned his back and reached for a tumbler of ice.
“Godammit, look at me.” she said. “All of this sounds very fishy. I want you to tell me exactly what happened. Every single detail. “
“I will. As soon as you tell me what happened with Angie and if anyone has heard from her.”
The kitchen phone rang. Tony lunged for it, but Gail was closer.
“Gail, this is Tom Krueger.” She recognized the familiar voice with the Texas drawl, although she hadn’t talked with him in over a year. It was Eric’s older brother. But why was he the one calling?
Tom’s voice dropped to a low drone. “Is your husband with you?”
Gail flushed with indignation. What difference did it make? “Yes, he’s standing right beside me. Do you want to speak with him?”
“No. I just wanted to be sure you weren’t alone.”
Gail’s heart hammered. “Where’s Eric?”
“Eric’s in the hospital,” he said
Oh, no; why were they bothering her with another one of Eric’s crack ups at a time like this? “I’m sorry,” was all she could think to say.
“Something terrible has happened, Gail. Eric was contacted by the kidnappers two days ago. They demanded a payment of a million dollars. My father had the money within the hour. The kidnappers promised Doug was safe and would be returned unharmed as soon as Eric left the money for them in an abandoned building down on Padre Island. Eric drove by and thought he saw Doug sitting there, waiting for him. But after he’d left the ransom and went to get Doug, he found him tied to a chair, and propped up against a wall. It was a trick, to make Eric think he was alive. He wasn’t breathing or moving.” Tom’s voice cracked. “They’d killed him”.