by Diane Weiner
“Tomorrow’s Saturday. Sure. Why not?”
Chapter 22
Another nightmare. Sara kicked and pawed at the icy water, grabbing for her oboe. Every time she clasped her hand around it, it slipped away like a serpent taunting her. She felt the dark water pulling her under. As she struggled, she watched a box of papers sink to the bottom of the freezing lake. A gun toppled out of the box and floated to the top. She sat straight up, gasping for air.
Breath in, breathe out. Panther, sharing her pillow, rubbed against her face. She nuzzled her face in his black fur. Don’t need Freud to interpret that dream.
Looking at the alarm clock on the nightstand, she realized she’d slept a good hour past her normal wakeup time. Even when the symphony was in season and she was playing concerts late into the night, her internal clock seldom allowed her to sleep much past sunrise. It didn’t matter much when or if she got up now that she was on leave. Stop it. Don’t succumb to depression on top of fighting the dystonia.
“Come on, Panther. Let’s get us some breakfast.” She went downstairs, started the coffee, and popped a few frozen waffles in the toaster. “I didn’t forget about you, Panther.” While she waited for the waffles, she poured food into the cat’s bowl. “We’re getting low. I’ll have to pick up another bag next time I’m at the store.” Panther meowed, then dug into the food, barely coming up for air. She wondered if he realized Ellie wasn’t coming back.
Travis picked her up an hour later. In spite of the recent nightmare and Travis’s shady secrets, she’d slept better knowing he was right next door. The air of mystery almost made him more attractive. Almost.
“Did you sleep okay? You were really zonked out last night. Who could blame you? Two dead bodies inside of a month?”
“I know. And they say small towns are boring.”
“So, are we looking for something particular at this place?”
“They sell unpainted furniture. My parents are looking for a new dresser for the guest room. Maybe you’ll see something for your place.”
“I’m good. I’ve got everything I need.”
“Turn left at the light. It’s right down the road.”
“Close to Cusa Farms?”
“Yeah. I guess it is.” They pulled into the crowded lot. “Looks like my parents are here already. That’s their car.”
They spotted Sara’s parents as soon as they entered the gate. “Mom, Dad, ready to hunt for a dresser?”
“Yep. Just like old times. Remember when we bought that second dresser for your bedroom?” She followed her father down the path.
“Travis, are you buying furniture, too?” said Patty.
“I was telling Sara I don’t need anything in particular. But we’ll see.”
Patty said, “It was awful, Sara finding Preston yesterday like she did.”
Yesterday a dead body, today, shopping for arts and crafts. Just going with the flow.
“You’ve got one tough daughter there Mrs. Baron.”
“I sure do.” She turned to Sara. “I’m so glad you’re all right. I hope you’ll refrain from snooping now that you see how dangerous it is. I hear stories from the officers at work. There’s nothing glamorous about investigating crimes.”
“I know, Mom. It’s not like I’m trying to play Nancy Drew or anything. Preston reached out to me and I owed it to Ellie to see what he had to offer.” She only wished she’d have been able to hear him out.
Bob Baron found fault with every dresser. One was too skinny, another too fat…Sara’s nose was so cold she worried she had frostbite. Let’s wrap this up already.
“Mom and Dad, how about Travis and I investigate the other side of the fair? Let us know if you find a good one and we’ll do the same.”
“Divide and conquer,” said Bob. “I like that idea.”
Sara and Travis broke away from her parents, immediately approving almost every dresser they saw along the new path. Sara inhaled the aroma of fresh wood. “This one’s so pretty as is. Dad shouldn’t ruin it by painting it.”
“He could stain it and it’d retain the beauty while being protected from damage,” said Travis. “This one fits the bill, right? Not too big, not too small, and the wood is so smooth he’d hardly have to sand it.”
Sara opened and closed the drawers. “The price is within their budget. Let’s see if they approve.”
Sara recognized voices she knew coming from behind. She turned around to see Jailyn Peters and Craig Danalchek, Ellie’s boss.
Jailyn said, “Travis? I didn’t know you liked arts and crafts.”
“Kind of. You and Craig shopping?”
Craig said, “Yes, and no. I mean, we’re looking for an umbrella stand for the office. My wife and I were here yesterday and bought one for our house. I came by to pick up another and ran into Dr. Peters.”
Wife? I missed something. She was convinced he and Jailyn were together. Camaya said Jailyn came around and went to lunch with Craig after the board meetings at Medivision. I guess it was just business after all.
Jailyn said, “I heard you were the one who found Preston Montague yesterday. Poor Preston. Must have been awful finding him in front of the warehouse like that. What were you doing at Cusa Farms in the dead of winter?”
Sara felt her face turn red, this time from heat, not the cold wind. “I, um…”
Travis interjected, “I’m sorry for your loss. You and Preston were once close according to the hospital grapevine.”
“Yes, well. It was quite a shock hearing he was dead.”
Sara spotted her parents. “We’d better get moving. My parents are on a mission and we promised to help.”
Travis brought the Barons over to the dresser they’d found. “What do you think?”
“It’s perfect,” said Patty. “How about we get this one, Bob?”
“It’s as good as any I suppose.”
“Come over tonight for dinner and you can see how it looks in Scott’s old room.”
When Travis nodded, she said, “Okay, Mom. We’ll be there.”
Back in the car, Sara replayed the interaction with Jailyn and Craig. She was still shocked to find out Craig was married. He and Jailyn seemed to share a bond. ‘Awful finding the body in front of the warehouse…’ Those were the words Jailyn used.
“Travis, the news didn’t release the exact location of the body.”
“And?”
“Jailyn said it must have been awful finding Preston in front of the warehouse. How did she know that’s where I found him?”
“You’re right. I’m telling you, with Preston out of the picture, I’m convinced Jailyn Peters warrants further investigation. Alibi or not.”
“Do you know the clinic Phil was talking about? The one where Jailyn was the night Ellie died?”
“I do. Feel like taking a ride?”
“As long as we’re back in time for dinner at my parents’ tonight. I’ll go tell them.”
While Travis drove, Sara checked the hours. Given it was Saturday, she was afraid they’d close early. “Open till 5:00. We have plenty of time.”
The outside of the clinic looked like it had survived both world wars. Sara couldn’t in any way picture Barbie doll Jailyn Peters working here. The paint, probably containing lead, peeled from the walls, and the carpet in the waiting room was so stained that it was impossible to discern the original color. A baby screamed in his mother’s arms. An elderly man coughed so hard he could barely catch a breath. Travis took the lead and stepped up to the counter where a nurse was juggling several tasks at once.
“You must be in charge, here. I’m Travis Jennings, a physical therapist at Hudsonville Community.”
“If you’re not here to volunteer, move on. We’re very busy as you can see.”
“I won’t take up much of your time. I want to ask you about a colleague. Jailyn Peters. I understand she volunteers here.”
“She does.”
“You must have some sort of sign in sheet. I have to check her
hours, verify that she was here.”
“I’m not turning over that information to a stranger. You should know better than to ask.”
“She’s up for an award based on community service. It’s a secret. If she doesn’t meet the requirements, I won’t bother nominating her.”
That lie came out of his mouth seamlessly.
The nurse hesitated.
Travis leaned in, flashing his warm smile, dimples showing. “We’d appreciate it so much. You know how hard it is to get recognition in this world. We do our jobs day in and day out like we’re invisible. Isn’t it great when someone takes the time to notice?”
She said, “Give me a minute.”
Sara whispered, “If you get tired of physical therapy, Broadway’s an hour and a half away.” Those dimples are irresistible.
An old man who reminded her of Grandpa sat sandwiched between a young mother and the wall. He clutched his head, leaning back against the wall. Poor man is by himself. Looks like he’s in a lot of pain. Since she’d come home, she’d seen too many examples of lonely, elderly folks. It had to be the same back in San Francisco, but she hadn’t ever thought much about it.
The nurse came back to the counter. “Okay, now. Here are the logs from the night you questioned.”
Travis and Sara leaned in for a closer look.
“She signed in at 6 pm, and out at midnight.”
“Are you sure?”
“She means, did Dr. Jennings go out for a dinner break, or leave to run an errand maybe?” The nurse glared at her. She should have kept quiet and let Travis do the challenging.
“If she did, she didn’t sign out. I gotta get back to work.”
Sara bathed her hands in hand sanitizer the moment they left the germ infested waiting room.
“So, there was a window of opportunity. That place was wall to wall patients and it’s a Saturday afternoon. Imagine it at night when doctors’ offices are typically closed.”
“I’d guess these patients come here because they have no insurance and can’t afford a doctor. I’ll bet it’s packed all the time. Jailyn could have slipped out unnoticed. I doubt that detective of yours simply verified by looking at the sign in sheet. He must have had witnesses, or close circuit TV to back up her alibi, don’t you think?”
“I suppose so.” She hated to admit defeat. “Hey, we’d better get going. My mom will be waiting at the door for us you know.”
Chapter 23
“Sara, Travis, come in before you catch the death of you.” At the door, as predicted. Without a coat.
Sara almost tripped over the unpainted dresser. “Do you need help getting this upstairs?”
“We tried but it’s too heavy. After dinner you and Sara’s dad can move it,” said Patty. “It’s exquisite. Don’t you think so, Travis?”
“Absolutely. And hearing the crackling log in the fireplace, feeling how it warms up the room makes me feel safe.”
Safe? What a strange choice of words. She hugged her Dad.
“I’ve got cookies, but save room for dinner.” Baroque music played softly in the background.
Travis said, “Bach Concerto for Oboe d’Amore, right?”
“You know your Bach,” said Bob. “Impressive.”
“Sara, can you play one of those?”
“If I made a reed for it I could. I don’t happen to own one.”
Travis’s phone vibrated. Not the one with the Beethoven ring tone that he carried in his pocket, but the second one he had stashed in his jacket the other night. “I’ve got to take this outside.”
“I hope it isn’t an emergency,” said Patty.
“He’s a physical therapist, not a trauma surgeon. I can’t imagine what sort of emergency we’d be talking about.”
“I was thinking a family emergency,” said Patty.
Grandpa came down the step. “Maybe it’s his wife. I heard about this before. Betcha Barack’s got a family in the city and a little hideaway in a small town where he meets up with his mistress. Or his second wife.”
She knew Grandpa loved to bait her, but she bit every time. “Grandpa, that’s awful. Travis isn’t like that.” Though I did find the earring in the sofa. And who’s Cameron? Why was she jumping to his defense?
As if just now noticing, though he’d already nearly tripped over it, Grandpa said, “When did a dresser grow in the middle of our living room?”
“Amazing,” said Bob. “Yesterday it was but a tiny acorn sitting on the carpet.” Patty gave him a light swat.
“It’s temporary. We’ll get Travis to help us move it later.”
Travis came back in, rubbing his hands together like a boy scout trying to start a fire.
“Everything okay?” asked Patty.
Travis’s tone turned cool and distant. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.” He picked up a cookie and gave it a chomp.
The doorbell rang. “That must be Gail. Frank, why don’t you get that? My hands are full.” Patty carried a pitcher of cider into the room.
Frank grumbled all the way to the door. As soon as he opened it, his sour face turned sweet and his voice lost the gruffness. “Come on in.”
Gail wore a green sweatshirt that said Meowy-Christmas under her ski jacket. The coarse white strands around her temples were newly a soft brown, and Sara caught a whiff of floral perfume. Gail handed Patty a Tupperware container. “I baked sugar cookies. Slice and bake, I’ll admit. It’s been a while since I used the oven.”
Frank hung her jacket on the coat rack, bumping into the dresser on the way. “Did you go see your friend at the hospital?”
“I did. She’s feeling better. They’re getting the excess metal out of her body with a drug they’re putting in her IV. Chelation therapy, she called it. I hope she winds up with a healthy bit of compensation from the company that made the hip joint.”
Sara said, “Why?”
“The manufacturer is being sued left and right. The parts they manufactured weren’t safe.”
“Was the manufacturer Medivison by any chance?” Medivision, Jailyn Peters—orthopedic surgeon…
“I don’t have any idea. Whoever was making them isn’t doing it anymore. There was a massive recall, I remember seeing it on the news.”
Grandpa grumbled. “See. Told you I didn’t want my hip replaced. You all want me to die so I’ll be out of your hair. Knew it all along.”
“This isn’t a pity party, Grandpa.” Out of our hair, maybe. Dead, definitely not.
“We want you mobile, Pops. I’m not pushing a wheelchair down the church aisle if you ever get married again.” He winked at Gail.
Gail’s cheeks turned red. “The fire is lovely.”
Travis answered, “Yes, it is.” Sara thought he looked a bit uncomfortable. He continued, changing the subject. “We went to the craft fair this morning. Have you been?”
“Not this year. Last year I bought a set of handmade placemats. Four of them. Not that I need more than one, but they do look pretty sitting on my table. Did the weather hold up?”
“Yeah, we had a welcome sunbreak. Sara and I helped pick out the perfect dresser.”
“Yes, I couldn’t help but notice when I walked in. By the way, did you watch the news? Preston Montague was murdered,” said Gail.
“And guess who found the body?” Patty nodded toward Sara.
“Sara?” Her hands flew over her mouth. “Another dead body? Are you serious?”
“I’m feeling a little cursed.”
Patty said, “They say death comes in threes. You better be careful, honey.”
“Thanks for the warning, Mom. I’ll be on the lookout.” Her mother went into the kitchen and Sara doubted she’d caught the sarcasm.
Patty came back with a bowl of popcorn. “There’s more hot apple cider inside so drink up.”
With the care of a jeweler cutting a diamond, Sara rearranged the pictures of her brother on the mantle. Scott in his baseball uniform, Scott graduating West Point... Do they have baseball in Iraq?
“No, nothing to add. Just missing my brother.”
“There’s plenty of space for pictures of my future grandkids,” said Patty. She smiled at Sara, who turned her head, feeling embarrassed in front of Travis. It’s not like she didn’t want kids, and, yes, she was aware of the whole biological clock issue. One more year and she’d be considered a high-risk pregnancy. She’d briefly considered freezing her eggs. That was when she was sure she’d have a salary coming in.
Gail said, “Travis, how are you liking it here? It’s been what, a year or so since you started working at the hospital?”
“I like it. Easy commute, friendly people.”
“I’ll bet you miss having professional sports at your doorstep, though. I mean, you have to travel to the city to take in a game here,” said Bob. “Are you a Bears fan?”
“Um, yeah. It was an easy commute to the stadium. I’m more of a baseball fan. Last summer a group of us from the hospital took in a couple of Mets games.”
“Not a die-hard Cubs fan? Or are you team White Sox? Most Chicagoans I’ve met are loyal to the core, no matter where they move.”
Sara reached for her glass of cider. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry.” She had spilled her drink all over the rug. “I’ll clean it up.”
“What’s with the butter fingers?” said Grandpa. “You’ve got the steadiest hands I know. I remember how easily you scraped reeds. Hands of a surgeon. Remember I used to say that?”
“Leave her alone, Frank. I’ll bet she didn’t sleep well last night after discovering Preston Montague.”
“Are we eating dinner anytime soon?” said Grandpa.
“It’s ready. I made chili in the crock pot.”
Gail said, “The glow from the fireplace—slice and bake cookies—life is good.”
“Enough with the sappiness. Can we eat already?” Grandpa hobbled toward the kitchen.
The pot of chili was demolished in no time. Patty had bought paper plates and utensils. Sara was glad to see she’d become more practical since becoming a working woman. When she was home last Christmas she had to help her mother hand wash the china her grandmother had passed down to them.