by Peg Cochran
“There it is.” Flo’s brakes squealed as she stomped on them. She put the Mustang in reverse and backed up to the driveway of the house they were looking for. “Light’s are on. Looks like someone’s in.”
“Let’s just hope it’s not Benny.” All of a sudden, Lucille thought that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all, but it was too late to back out now—Flo was pulling into the driveway.
“It’s now or never,” Flo said as she opened the driver’s-side door.
Lucille got out and followed Flo up the path to the front door.
Flo grabbed Lucille’s sleeve. “Would you get a load of this place?” She gestured toward the double front doors. “Reminds me of one of those steak places—Steak and Ale they were called.”
Lucille grunted. The house loomed over them. It had turrets and rounded walls like some kind of castle out of a Disney movie.
“Go ahead. Ring the bell,” Flo said when they reached the front door.
“Why me?”
“Oh, all right, I’ll do it.” Flo pressed the bell with her knuckle.
They heard it pealing inside the house.
Flo shivered. “At least there aren’t any guard dogs barking.”
The door was flung open and a blast of hot air hit them in the face.
“Yeah?”
The woman standing in the doorway had long, wavy blond hair. She was on the far side of thirty-five and was wearing a pair of short shorts and a hot pink tank top.
“I’m . . . we’re with the Hacker Plastic Surgery Clinic,” Flo began, “and we’d like to introduce you to a brand-new product guaranteed to firm and tone your skin while you sleep.”
The woman tilted her head to one side. “Really?”
Flo nodded her head. “Can we come in and give you a demonstration?”
“Sure. I’m Chrissi by the way,” she said over her shoulder as she led them into a cavernous family room.
Lucille looked around. This sure was some fancy place—black leather sectionals with cup holders just like at the movies and a zebra-print rug. Lucille thought about her own place and the living room suite she and Frankie had bought fifteen years ago to replace the secondhand furniture they’d collected as newlyweds. Lucille had tossed a couple of throws over the worn and faded spots, but it looked shabby compared to this setup.
“Why don’t you sit down.” Chrissi picked up the remote and muted the television. A glass of wine was on the coffee table in front of her. “So tell me about this miracle cream.”
In this light, Lucille could see the wrinkles around Chrissi’s eyes and the lines bracketing her mouth. Benny looked like the type who liked them young, and she figured Chrissi worried about losing him. She had to give her Frankie credit—he’d taken their marriage vows to heart and never complained that Lucille had put on a few pounds over the years or that her chin wasn’t as firm as it used to be. Sure, she didn’t live in a big house like Chrissi, but she wouldn’t trade her life for anything.
Flo made a big production out of removing the jar of cream from her purse and placing it on the table like she was the hostess on QVC or Vanna White turning over the letters.
Flo unscrewed the cap of Dr. Hacker’s cream and held the jar under Chrissi’s nose. “Isn’t that a lovely fragrance?”
“Yes,” Chrissi said, somewhat hesitantly.
“Go on, try it.” Flo handed her the jar.
Chrissi dipped a finger tipped with a long, hot pink nail into the cream and rubbed it into the back of her hand.
“Your boyfriend is going to love how soft your skin is.”
“Husband,” Chrissi said. “Benny and I been married eight months now.”
Lucille, meanwhile, was desperately trying to think of a way to introduce the topic of where Benny had been on Friday.
“It must be hard,” Lucille finally said, “with your husband working nights. I have a cousin—Della—she and her husband moved to Pennsylvania on account of his job. He works nights, and it caused a lot of trouble in their marriage. They even went for some of that marriage counseling.”
“I don’t care what hours Benny works as long as he pays the bills. If he thinks he’s going to throw me over for that dancer over at his club—Princess—he’s wrong.”
There was the sound of a toilet flushing overhead, and they all jumped and looked toward the ceiling. Lucille and Flo glanced at each other.
Maybe Chrissi had kids. Lucille hoped she had kids and that wasn’t Benny up there using the bathroom.
Flo was encouraging Chrissi to try the cream on her face when Benny walked into the room.
“I don’t want to interrupt you girls, but I’m heading back to the club. Hopefully they’ve got the toilet unstopped by now.”
Lucille kept her head down, hoping Benny wouldn’t notice her. She could hear him walk toward the foyer then turn around abruptly.
“Aren’t you Bernadette’s mother?”
“Yeah.”
He stared at Lucille for a minute before turning on his heel and walking out. Lucille held her breath until she heard the front door slam.
She hadn’t liked the look Benny had given her. She hadn’t liked it one bit.
Chapter 15
Lucille was exhausted by the time she and Flo pulled into her driveway. Flo was happy—she’d sold Dr. Hacker’s thirty-five-dollar jar of cream for one hundred dollars, and Chrissi had seemed interested in buying more products.
Flo yawned. “So according to Chrissi, Benny was most likely with his mistress the morning Louis was killed.”
“Sounds like it, but that don’t mean nothing. Who’s to say he didn’t actually go over to St. Rocco’s?”
“I don’t want to think about it anymore.” Flo stifled another yawn. “I’m ready for bed.”
“Me, too. I’ve got to pick Frankie up at eight o’clock tomorrow morning.” Lucille started to open her door.
“My scarf is missing.” Flo felt the open neck of her jacket. “I think I left it inside. At least I hope I did. I’d hate to lose it. It’s a Liz Claiborne.”
Lucille didn’t know much about labels, and she didn’t care. As long as it fit and was comfortable, she was happy.
Flo opened her door and got out. They were halfway to the front door when two men jumped out of the shadows. Lucille would have screamed, but one of them had his hand over her mouth before she could even open it. She could feel the rough texture of the glove he was wearing. She hoped they weren’t wool—she was allergic to wool.
The other man had his hand over Flo’s mouth, and all Lucille could see were Flo’s eyes, big as saucers, the whites glowing in the dim light. It put Lucille in mind of one of those paint-on-velvet pictures with the kids with the big eyes.
The men wore knit hats pulled down low—almost to their eyes—making if difficult to tell what they looked like. Not that Lucille thought she would recognize them, but at least she could give a description to the police later. If there was a later.
She felt her knees buckle, and the goon who had her in a vise-like grip by the elbow pulled her upright.
“Get in the car.”
Lucille made a move.
“In the backseat.”
“You, too.” The other goon gave Flo a shove toward the Mustang.
“That’s my car. You’re not taking my car. I paid for that car—”
Flo’s voice was cut off suddenly. Lucille twisted around. The goon with her had clamped his hand over her mouth again and was shoving her into the backseat of the Mustang.
Lucille felt her teeth chattering as the two men got into the front seat of the car.
“Keys.” The one in the driver’s seat held his hand out over the seat toward Flo.
Flo gave a loud sob and began to scrabble in her purse.
“You ought to get yourself one of them purse organizers,” Lucille said as Flo continued to dig. “Like they sell on QVC.”
“No talking,” the man on the passenger side said sharply, turning halfway around in his
seat.
Lucille nodded and clamped her lips together.
“We’re going for a little drive.” The man turned the key in the ignition.
Lucille could feel Flo shivering next to her. They looked at each other but didn’t dare say anything.
They were halfway there when Lucille realized where the men were taking them—the Watchung Reservation. At night no one would be there except the deer, the raccoons and other small creatures. It could be years before their bodies were found. What was Frankie going to think when she didn’t show up at the hospital tomorrow morning to pick him up?
They finally came to a stop in a heavily wooded area. Tree branches hung over the road, blocking the moon and making it even darker. It was so quiet Lucille wished someone would say something to break the silence. Meanwhile she made a prayer to St. Arthelais, patron saint of kidnap victims.
Finally the goon in the passenger seat turned around.
“Benny asked me to give you gals a word of warning. Benny’s nice that way. He believes in giving people—especially dames—a second chance. Benny says no more sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. Capisce? No more asking questions, no more prying into stuff that doesn’t concern you. You read me?”
Lucille and Flo nodded mutely.
“I can’t hear you.”
“Yes,” Lucille managed to croak. She saw Flo’s lips move but no sound came out.
“Okay. Just so we understand each other. I wouldn’t want to have to take no action against you gals.” He looked Flo up and down. “You’re kind of cute.”
He turned around again, and the driver started the car.
Lucille was still shaking when they pulled into her driveway. The car came to a halt and the driver tossed the keys to Flo. Lucille and Flo didn’t move but watched as the men got out and walked toward a dark sedan parked across the street.
“They’re gone,” Flo said, exhaling forcefully, as if she’d been holding her breath.
“Yeah. Come on. Let’s get inside and lock the doors.”
They were walking toward the front door when a deep masculine voice startled them.
“Good evening, ladies.”
Had the men come back? Lucille looked around. No—it was her neighbor Mario taking out his trash. Where had he been earlier when those two men forced her and Flo into Flo’s car? A lot of good he was.
Lucille waved and quickly unlocked her front door. She and Flo tumbled into the foyer. They both began talking at once.
“Ssssh.” Lucille put a finger to her lips. “Lucy’s sleeping.”
They tiptoed into the kitchen, where Lucille flicked on the light over the sink.
“You have any more of that whiskey? My hands won’t stop shaking.” Flo held them out for Lucille to see.
“Mine either. And I think I’ll join you in a drink.”
Lucille opened the cupboard and got out the bottle of Four Roses. She filled two glasses and handed one to Flo.
“I think this clinches it, don’t you?” Flo said as she tossed back a big gulp of her drink.
“What do you mean?” Lucille took a cautious sip of whiskey. It burned going down the back of her throat but a pleasant warmth began to spread through her. No wonder people drank this stuff.
“Benny’s our man. He sent those goons to scare us. He knows we’re on to him.”
Lucille shivered. “I think you’re right. Just our luck he had to go home to use the toilet. But if he’d wanted to kill us, he would have done it, right?”
“Yeah. But we need to drop this whole thing. If he even thinks we’re asking questions about him, we’re dead ducks.”
Lucille had a flashback to the scene at the reservation and hers and Flo’s bodies lying hidden in the undergrowth. Frankie would have no idea what had happened to her. She’d never see Lucy grow up. She felt a tear forming at the corner of her eye and brushed it away.
“It looks like Louis must have been cheating Benny no matter what Benny says. And that’s why Benny had him killed.”
Flo yawned. “I think you’re right.” She looked at her watch. “I don’t know about you, Lucille, but I’m bushed. I think I’ll turn in.”
“The bed should be all made up. I can loan you a nightgown.”
“That’s okay. I don’t need one. I never wear anything to bed.”
Lucille stopped at the top of the stairs to the basement. “You don’t?”
“No. It’s much more sensual to sleep in the nude. You should try it.”
Lucille thought about climbing into bed naked next to Frankie. That would for sure give him a heart attack.
She got Flo settled as best she could and climbed the stairs to the kitchen. Sheesh, she was tired. But she wasn’t looking forward to getting into an empty bed. It was hard to believe her Frankie wouldn’t be there. As far as she could remember, the only times they’d slept apart were when Bernadette was born and the time they all went down the shore, and Frankie had had to leave a day early for work and Lucille had stayed behind to close up the rental.
Lucille heard a noise in the kitchen as she got to the top step. Her heart began to beat harder. Had Benny’s goons come back? She peered around the corner and was relieved to see it was only Bernadette standing in front of the open refrigerator.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yeah.” Bernadette pulled out a casserole dish covered in tinfoil and put it on the counter. She spooned some penne onto a plate and put it in the microwave.
Lucille realized she was feeling a little hungry herself. She didn’t want to sabotage her diet by letting herself get famished. She knew from experience, and from what the articles said, that that would lead to overeating. She got out a plate and gave herself a couple of spoonfuls of pasta.
She sat down opposite Bernadette at the table. Bernadette had her head bent over her plate, and with her hair hanging down, Lucille couldn’t see her face. Lucille got the distinct impression that Bernadette didn’t want to talk to her. But she wanted to talk to Bernadette and this was the perfect time. The baby was sleeping, Tony was in bed and Frankie wasn’t around.
“You seemed pretty chummy with Benny when I walked into his office today.”
Bernadette looked up, a sullen expression on her face.
“You’re married, remember? You and Tony took a solemn vow to spend your lives together.”
Bernadette snorted. “You’re so old-fashioned, Ma.”
“What’s old-fashioned about sticking with your marriage vows? Don’t tell me you’re having one of them affairs.”
“No, of course not.” Bernadette pushed the penne around on her plate. “But I need a little excitement. It’s nice knowing Benny is attracted to me. It makes me feel good.”
“He’s attracted to you and to Chrissi and to Princess and who knows who else.” Lucille shook a finger at Bernadette. “That kind of guy has only one thing on his mind, believe me.”
“I’m not going to actually do anything. It’s just for fun.”
“Yeah? Well, this kind of fun could be dangerous. Benny’s a scary guy. I think you should stay away from him. As a matter of fact, I think you should look for another job.”
“And why do you think that?” Bernadette looked up, her brows drawn together. “Just because he owns a club, you and Daddy assume he’s in the mob. He’s an honest businessman. And besides, I like my job. I can come and go as I please as long as I get in my hours. If I needed to get Lucy from day care for some reason . . . if she came down with a cold for instance . . .”
Lucille felt a chill pass over her at the thought of poor little Lucy getting sick.
“You’ve got your mother. I can always go pick her up for you and keep her until you get home.”
The mulish expression didn’t leave Bernadette’s face. Lucille knew when enough was enough. She got up, rinsed off her plate and put it into the dishwasher.
“I’m going up to bed. You should get some sleep, too. Lucy will be up early.”
• • •
She was already awake when the alarm went off. She could hear Lucy crying in the other bedroom and Bernadette fumbling around in the kitchen making a bottle.
She had to get ready and go get Frankie at the hospital. She knew he didn’t want to spend a minute longer there than he had to.
Lucille was washed and dressed in half an hour and ready to go. She took a quick look downstairs and saw that Flo had already gone. Lucy was sitting in her high chair in the kitchen. Bernadette was feeding her, and she had rice cereal and peaches smeared all over her face and bib. She smiled and kicked her legs when she saw Lucille.
Lucille was smiling too as she went out to the Olds. She had had no idea how great being a grandmother would be. She loved Bernadette and all, but there was nothing like the unconditional love you got from a little baby.
It was overcast and damp out. Wrinkled dead leaves swirled in the biting wind. Lucille looked up at the sky, where the clouds were dark and heavy. Maybe they’d get some snow.
The Olds was cranky on account of it being so cold out, but Lucille finally got her to turn over. She headed toward Overlook Hospital.
Frankie was in his room with his bag packed, impatient to leave.
“Get me out of here,” he said as soon as Lucille walked through the door.
She pointed to his breakfast tray. “How come you didn’t eat nothing?”
“What? Some cereal that tastes like cardboard with skim milk. No thanks. I thought I’d wait till I got home and you could fix me something to eat.”
“What’s that?” Lucille pointed to some papers sitting on the bedside tray.
“Some kind of instructions—I don’t know.”
Lucille picked up the sheets of paper. It looked like the diet the doctor had given her yesterday. She tucked them in her purse.
“I can’t wait for some bacon and eggs,” Frankie said as Lucille settled him into the passenger seat of the Olds.