Sun Scream

by Barbara Silkstone

  As I bent to pick up the nail the thought of fingerprints or DNA came to mind. I let it stay where it fell and returned to questioning Jaimie.

  “What happened after you lay down in the bed?” I forced my voice to remain calm while thinking that Grams may have been right about Chip.

  “I put on the protective goggles then pressed the button on the inside of the handle. The top slowly clamped over me. The fake sunlight felt good. I think I dozed—yes, I did.” Her chin trembled. ‘That was a mistake.”

  “Is there any chance someone might have come into the gym while you were dozing?”

  “What are you trying to say?” Jaimie flinched.

  “Just that I’m going to call Kal. Like it or not.”

  Chapter 21

  I stepped into the kitchen so Jaimie and Grams wouldn’t overhear my call to Kal.

  “We have a problem,” I whispered into the phone. “There’s been another attempt on Jaimie’s life. This time I’m certain someone is trying to kill her.”

  “Details?”

  “I’ll fill you in when you get to the Toast house. But first make a stop at the yacht club marina. Chip is supposed to be on his boat. I think it’s better if he doesn’t see you, just verify that he’s there.”

  “Chip is not behind these—occurrences,” Kal said. “I’d stake my life on it.”

  “I’d like to clear him and save you from gambling away your remaining years.”

  “Olive! Jaimie needs help!” Grams yelled.

  “Got to go!” I clicked off and dashed back into the gym.

  Jaimie stood her arms straight out from her sides and her legs spread. She looked like a frozen jumping jack. “I’m hurting—but I am so not going to the hospital.”

  “Do you have any aloe vera gel?”

  “No. How about vodka on ice?”

  “Finish your water.”

  I flipped through my mental Rolodex searching for sunburn relief. Yogurt! What did I remember about yogurt and sunburn? I spoke into my smart phone, “Yogurt and sunburn.”

  The computerized lady who lived in my phone spoke in a robotic voice, “To soothe a sunburn you can apply Greek yogurt to the face and body as a mask and rinse off after fifteen minutes. Make certain it is Greek yogurt—plain or organic.” I silently apologized to my phone for all the times I groused about technology.

  “Do you have any Greek yogurt?”

  “I’m not hungry,” Jaimie growled.

  “My phone says it will help cool your pain.”

  “In that case, yes. Check the refrigerator.”

  “Can you make it to your bathroom?”

  “If it stops the pain, I can make it up Mount Everest.”

  “Start up. I’ll be right with you.” I slipped the phone in my pocket. “Grams don’t try to help her,” I called over my shoulder as I zipped back to kitchen.

  There were pint packs of Greek yogurt in the refrigerator. I eliminated the black cherry, mixed berry, and peach. The fruit would be rough on her skin. I dumped the vanilla and coffee flavors into a large bowl. Carefully carrying the bowl I dashed after them.

  Jaimie was halfway up the stairs, walking like an unbendable Barbie. Grams trailed a safe distance, grabbing the railing to steady herself.

  “Head into the bathroom. I’m right behind you.”

  I placed the bowl of yogurt on the counter near the shower.

  Grams sniffed it. “Yup. Greek yogurt. Know that smell anywhere. It’s thicker than the regular kind.” She dipped her finger in, pulled out a glob, and stuck it in her mouth.

  “Stand in the shower,” I instructed Jaimie. “Don’t turn on the water. I’m going to plaster this cool yogurt on your burned skin.”

  She gripped the ceramic tile corner, swung one stiff leg over the low ledge and followed with the other. “Start with my back. I’m less sensitive there.”

  Dipping my hand in the bowl of cold yogurt I scooped out wads of the creamy stuff. Despite the first yelps of shock, Jaimie relaxed and let me continue to smear her until all her burned areas were coated.

  “Brace yourself against the shower wall and stand perfectly still. In fifteen minutes we’ll rinse it off.”

  She looked like a demented advertisement for dairy products.

  “It itches like an army of ants are chewing my skin. Please give me some vodka!”

  “No alcohol. You’re dehydrated. Now hold still.”

  “Has anybody called Chip?” Her voice was hoarse.

  I dodged her question. “Kal’s on his way over.” I wondered if he had spotted Chip.

  “Don’t let Kal see me like this!”

  “By the time he gets here, you’ll be back to normal.” Another Pinocchio.

  Grams closed the lid on the toilet and sat on it.

  I leaned my aching body against the sink. The tension had taken its toll.

  Fifteen minutes crept by. Grams nodded off, still sitting on the seat, her head dropped to her chest, her fedora fallen on the bathroom floor.

  Now and then Jaimie whimpered but she didn’t ask again about Chip. I was fine with that.

  “It’s almost time. Move to the far corner away from the shower heads.” I motioned to Jaimie. “I’ll set the temperature before you wash off. Don’t rub anywhere!”

  “Do I look that dumb?”

  “Rhetorical question?”

  The doorbell rang.

  Grams woke up with a start. “Who’s here?”

  I stooped to get her hat and handed it to her. “Ignore it. Probably selling something.”

  The bell rang again. There was no way I could leave these two alone to get the door.

  I gave the water a feel, too hot. The shower had two spray heads—one overhead and one at mid-height. I tested the water again and waited until it felt lukewarm. Then I adjusted the sprays to a gentle rain. “Okay, Jaimie. Just stand and let the water run over you.”

  “Somebody’s on the stairs!” Grams said jumping from the toilet seat.

  Chapter 22

  “I let myself in through the broken pane.” Kal’s voice caused me to jump. He stood outside the bathroom door. “What’s going on here?”

  “Might as well tell him,” Jaime said. She waved her hand as if blowing off any rights to privacy. “I’m going to smell sour for the rest of my life!” The double showerheads rained on her slowly rinsing the stubborn cream from her head to her toes.

  Jaimie accepted a bath towel from me. She flipped a clump of blonde hair out of her eyes, splattering yogurt and water everywhere.

  We all stood in the dairy-smelling bathroom as Jaimie blotted herself dry. Her yellow bikini emphasized the glowing color of her skin.

  “Chip gifted Jaimie with a tanning bed this morning,” I said. “Before she could use it he was called away by the yacht club dock master. Some sort of emergency with his sailboat. He told her not to use the bed until he got back. But she couldn’t wait.”

  Kal looked Jaimie up and down wincing at her bright pink-red skin.

  “The lid jammed and she was trapped. If Grams and I hadn’t come along, she’d be toast in more ways than one.”

  “Did you break the glass pane by the front door?”

  “Had to,” I said. “I’ll show you the tanning bed. It’s downstairs in the gym. I tugged on Kal’s sleeve trying to clue him in—there was more to see than just the bed.

  “I’m going to rinse off some more and then put on something soft,” Jaimie adjusted the towel on her head.

  “What the heck?” Chip appeared out of nowhere and stepped into the bathroom. He glanced around at the odd gathering. He studied his wife, still standing in the shower in a bikini, a towel wrapped around her hair, and her body turning a deeper red by the minute. Her burn was setting in.

  “Jaimie, will you ever listen to me?” He looked around the bathroom, his expression a mix of surprise and something else.

  “I’d fall into your arms and cry, but it would hurt too much!”

  Chip gently helped his wife out o
f the shower.

  “Kal and I are going to have a look at the tanning bed.” I moved toward the door. “Grams you want to join us or lie down on one of the sofas? Give Chip and Jaimie some privacy.”

  “I think I’ll stick around.” The expression on her face said she wasn’t about to leave Jaimie alone—not with her prime suspect present.

  Kal and I left the bathroom in silence. I didn’t speak until we were at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Was Chip on his boat?” I whispered.

  “No. I waited about ten minutes just to be certain.”

  “Follow me.” I led him to the gym and then walked slowly to the tanning bed trying to see if there was anything I missed.

  “That’s the latest murder weapon?” Kal said. “Looks like an elephant sat on it.”

  “I had to break it open to get her out.” I took his arm and guided him to the bed. “Don’t touch it—but look at that nail on the floor. It was wedged in the handle. It was deliberately set so she couldn’t get out.”

  “Did she see who did it?”

  “Jaimie wore protective goggles and she dozed. Someone had to know she’d be tempted to use this torture chamber while Chip was out. I didn’t touch the nail in case of fingerprints.”

  “You did the right thing.” Kal reached in the pocket of his slacks and pulled out a small plastic bag. Taking a pair of tweezers from his other pocket he picked up the nail and put it in the bag. “It doesn’t look like any of the other hardware on this contraption. I think your friend is in danger.”

  “So somebody is trying to kill my wife?” Chip said from the doorway.

  Had he snuck up on us to snoop?

  Chapter 23

  Chip’s mouth fell open. “What happened to the tanning bed? It shouldn’t have caved in. I watched the installation guys put it together. It was solid. This model is the newest style—guaranteed goof proof.”

  “You’ve got Olive to thank for saving Jaimie and destroying the people-griller. Someone deliberately pinned the handle so your wife would be trapped. Olive broke the hinges and got her out.” Kal dangled the plastic bag. “This was wedged in the latch.”

  “It had to be someone who knew about the tanning bed arriving and you leaving the house.” I tried to keep compassion in my voice. I studied Chip’s face looking for signs of guilt but all I saw was confusion.

  “Anyone who knows Jaimie knows how impulsive she is,” Kal said. “If you left her alone with a new toy she was bound to get into it.”

  Chip walked around the crumpled clamshell. “I should have been here to protect her but I received a call from the dock master’s assistant at the yacht club. He said my boat was listing badly and banging against the pilings. They needed me there right away.”

  “What was wrong with your boat?” I took his hand as if to comfort him but placed two fingers between the bone and the tendon of his wrist—subtly checking his pulse.

  “That’s the weird part—now understandable. My boat was fine. I went into the dock master’s office to talk to the assistant who made the call. The dock master has no assistant on duty today.”

  “Someone wanted you out of the house,” Kal said.

  I released his hand. “Let me see your phone.” I reached in my pocket and took out mine. “Scroll back to the so-called assistant dock master’s number.”

  “I think this is the one. I don’t recognize it.” He held his phone for me to see. I snapped a picture of the number on the chance he might erase it.

  “Take a photo of it with your camera too,” I said to Kal. “See if you can trace the number. The phone belongs to whoever is trying to kill Jaimie.”

  Kal snapped a picture of the face of Chip’s phone. “I suggest you cancel your murder mystery party,” he said. “It’s too risky.”

  “Cancel a party my wife has her heart set on?” Chip shook his head. “She’d kill me!”

  “The party may be the perfect way to draw out the would-be killer.” I slipped my phone back into my pocket.

  “Not a good idea,” Kal crossed his arms over his chest. “I can’t spare Robbie to attend. I certainly can’t take time off—not with the spate of burglaries in Old Town. There would be no one to safeguard Jaimie.”

  “Canceling the party is out of the question.” Chip shook his head. “I’ll keep a close eye on my wife. Speaking of that, I’d better check on her.” He left as silently as he’d arrived.

  “What do you think?” Kal whispered.

  “I held Chip’s hand to check his pulse. It was thumping like a jackhammer. It could be from Jaimie’s near miss or he could have been lying about his innocence. You didn’t see him on his boat,” I hesitated. “But he did say he went to the dock master’s office. He might have been in there.”

  “I must get back to the stationhouse. I’ll bring Chip in for questioning tomorrow, not as a suspect, just to help me find the stalker. I’d like you to be there. In the meantime I’ll call the dock master and verify Chip’s story.”

  “Let me know when. We have forty-eight hours until the party. I can keep Jaimie close during the day tomorrow, but we have tonight and tomorrow night when she’ll be alone with him.”

  “Chip’s not stupid. He’d be the obvious suspect. The husband always is. And I still don’t believe he’s planning on killing her. He was in Atlanta last night when you and Jaimie were trapped in the garage. Right?”

  “Yes and no. If you’re willing to believe the hotel registered him under the wrong name. He could have flown back and forth during the night. We may have to check flight schedules and private jets. With his money he could have pulled it off.”

  As the words left my lips I wanted to be wrong. I wanted to believe in true love. As irritating as Jaimie is, in my heart I trusted Chip loved her. They were in divorce mode when I first met them about a year ago, but that was Jaimie’s choice not Chip’s. He could have agreed to the divorce but he refused to sign the final papers.

  “Let’s talk about this later,” Kal said. “Check on Jaimie. I’ll see about this phone number. Anything comes up call me immediately. Tell the Toasts I had to go.”

  I jogged up the stairs to the master bedroom. The blinds were closed and the room darkened.

  The victim stood between two chairs each stacked with a pile of pillows that reached to her armpits. Only the undersides of her arms touched the cushions, the rest of her body was free from any pressure.

  “How are you feeling?”

  She moaned. “Stiff. It hurts like the dickens. Chip called Dr. Holland.”

  Groggy, Grams popped up from the satin chaise lounge near the bed holding her fedora. “I’m gonna stay the night to care for her.”

  “Thanks, but we’re good,” Chip said. “You can leave with Olive. Jaimie will be fine once she gets pain meds.”

  Grams gave him the squint eye. “You watch her with the vodka. Not safe to mix both.”

  I threw my arm around Grams’ tiny shoulders and pulled her toward me. “Let’s go. Your car is at my place.”

  She tugged free. “I have a feeling I’m needed here.” She placed her fedora on her head and tipped the brim at an angle.

  “I have it under control,” Chip said, stepping toward us, he moved his hands as if herding us out the door. “Thank you both for a heroic job. You saved the love of my life.”

  “Bull puppies,” Grams muttered as she accompanied me down the stairs clutching her candlestick. “Ain’t safe to leave Jaimie with him,” Grams said not taking care to lower her voice.

  Chapter 24

  Grams didn’t stop grousing until I pulled into my assigned space under the Sandy Shores Towers. I ran around the car and opened the passenger door. She handed me her candlestick and slowly lifted herself from the seat. The day had taken its toll.

  I walked the little woman to her car while she fiddled in her pocket for the key. I returned her candlestick and then braced my feet and yanked open the Edsel’s door. The heavy vehicle was akin to a bank vault. How she ever managed on
her own was a credit to nonagenarian guardian angels. “Would you like me to follow you home?”

  She settled her bottom on her driving pillow and put the candlestick on the seat next to her. With a few fumbles she stuck the key in the ignition and gripped the hula-hoop steering wheel in her bird-like hands.

  “Grams, I can follow you.”

  “Can’t you tell when you’re being ignored? Don’t you dare follow me!”

  “Then call me when you get home.” I closed the door and tapped the roof. The Edsel smoked out of the lot.

  I waited until she disappeared and then made my way up the stairs on legs shaky from adrenalin withdrawal.

  As I put the key in my door lock a craggy voice caused me to jerk. “If it isn’t my little shiksha. What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like Myron?” With my frayed nerves acting like high-voltage wires I went into fight or flight mode. “What do you want?”

  He put a finger to his lips. “Don’t be mad. I just want to apologize. Let me come in, doll.”

  The last thing I needed was a lengthy visit from my former patient. Now that he wasn’t paying for therapy he took advantage of my time—besides he’d betrayed me by funding my new competitor.

  “It’s been a killer day, Myron. Some other time.”

  “You got a killer? A hit man? I’ll take care of it!” He puffed himself up like a tiny owl trying to look threatening. His years as a mob leader—whether real or imagined—were long past.

  Myron ran a hand over his skull and looked around anxiously. An old habit or fear of being seen by Ivy LaVine? “I just want to know there’s no hard feelings between us. I was making my girlfriend happy. Is that such a bad thing?”

  “It is a bad thing, Myron. I helped you out of a lot of sticky situations. You placed me in the middle of one. Our friendship is still there but it will take me time to feel good about you.”

  With my right hand I turned the key in the lock while holding my left hand up to stop him from entering. “Not tonight, Myron.”