Amy King Cozy Mysteries- The Complete Series
Page 27
Nick's stomach filled with a sour sensation then churned over a few times. Before he could open his mouth to ask the question foremost in his mind, Chambers spoke up.
"Oh, that is such good news." Chambers wriggled excitedly in his chair. "Fantastic news, I—"
"Permission to ask a question, sir," interrupted Nick with a sinking feeling.
The lieutenant looked up in surprise. "Permission granted."
Nick breathed some and said, "How long?"
"Indefinitely," replied the lieutenant.
That hit Nick hard. His mind raced, heart beat faster. "Permission to ask another question, sir."
"Granted."
"I'd like to work the Danny Fontane case."
"Denied. We need you fully engaged in the lollipop unit. The chief wants you in that role for now." He stood and nodded toward the door. The meeting was over.
Glancing quickly over his shoulder as the lieutenant's office door closed, Chambers whispered, "Yippee! If the stars align, we can stay in this unit until we retire."
"You think?" was all Nick's dispirited voice could muster.
◆◆◆
Detective Wilson was standing by Nick's desk when they returned. Chambers settled down at his workstation, ignoring the female detective. He didn't approve of female police officers, and that mattered little because they didn’t approve of him.
"In with the lieutenant?" she asked Nick already knowing the answer.
"I wish I wasn't."
"What did he say?"
"Lollipop duty for the foreseeable future."
"That stinks."
"Tell me about it." Nick forced a smile. "You working the Danny Fontane case?"
"Among others."
"So who did it?" Chambers asked, suddenly looking up from his desk.
"Mrs. Peacock in the kitchen with a candlestick!" snapped Detective Wilson. "How on earth do I know!"
Chambers grinned, gazed with sad eyes again at the empty donut box and stared into his computer screen.
Nick lowered his voice. "Anything new?"
Officer Chambers made a blowing sound with his lips that probably had no bearing on the matter.
"Spoke with Vinny Snyder, Danny's manager." Detective Wilson replied, ignoring Chambers.
"Yeah, I read his statement in the case file."
Now Detective Wilson lowered her voice. "I mean again. This time off the record."
"And?"
"It seems Danny couldn't hold a note."
That caught Nick by surprise. "You serious? But he sings in all his movies."
"Dances too, I don't think he could do that either."
"No kidding!"
"Lip-sync with voice-over. I wouldn't have believed it, but there you go." Detective Wilson glanced in the direction of Chambers then turned her eyes to Nick. "Whoever was humming in the office, it definitely wasn't Danny Fontane."
Chapter 14
It was seven thirty a.m., and Noel Laird was running late. He rolled over to hit snooze on the alarm clock, but his hand hit space. His eyes snapped open. Ruby stood by his side of the bed holding the clock.
"Time to get up, darling," she said, bending over to give him a kiss.
"But it’s not eight o'clock yet," Noel mumbled, still in-between sleep and consciousness. "What's the rush? I'll get up in an hour." Then it hit him. Today was his first day working for Dr. Walden. The good doctor expected him a little before nine. Noel sat bolt upright.
"Guess you forgot," laughed Ruby, wrapping her arms around him. "Noel, you don't want to be late on your first day in your new job."
"Temporary job," Noel added. "Just until I can find something more permanent."
"Let's hope so, but no pressure from me." Ruby placed the alarm clock on the bedside table. "I'll put breakfast on while you get ready."
Noel knew his wife didn't like to cook. Ruby was the only person he knew that burnt water. He wasn't looking forward to whatever concoction she would create, but he appreciated the special effort she was making this morning.
He could barely drag himself to the shower, having spent the previous evening discussing the Danny Fontane case with Ruby's dad, Nick. Noel had gone over his eyewitness account multiple times with Nick, but nothing new came of it. He still couldn't remember the name of the tune he heard the killer humming or the name of the show it came from. Noel felt somehow guilty for this and saddened when Nick had told him Lieutenant Kostopoulos had ordered Nick off the case. He understood this dealt a deep blow to Nick's pride, and the two men talked late into the night.
Noel slipped into bed a little after two. Five minutes later, or so it seemed to him, the alarm clock clanged.
Noel stumbled out of bed into the shower, the steaming hot water bringing his senses into focus. It had only been a short while since his meteoric rise in Battles Equity Partners had come to an abrupt halt. It wasn't his fault someone murdered the founder, or that a massive fraud had been uncovered shortly after that, resulting in bankruptcy and pink slips for everyone.
He let the hot water splash across his face. "Life's weird," he muttered. A few weeks ago he was second-in-command at an international investment firm, and he and Ruby were living the high life in London. Now, he was living with his wife at their in-law's house in Ruby's old bedroom! And this morning he was preparing for his first day as an administrative assistant for a shrink. He chuckled aloud at the bizarreness of it all.
When Noel strolled into the kitchen, the smell of sizzling bacon caused his stomach to rumble. Ruby sat at the table, a plate full of bacon, eggs, mushrooms, and toast, with a large mug of coffee in her hand.
"Oh, hello darling," she said taking a bite of toast. "Sit down. Mom is fixing breakfast today."
At the stove, Amy half turned. "Bacon and eggs good for you?"
"Yes, please," Noel replied, somewhat relieved his wife wasn't cooking. "With mushrooms too, if that's not too much trouble."
Chapter 15
Noel felt a deep sense of shame as he sat at the rickety desk outside Dr. Walden's office. The shabby pinewood walls, scuffed concrete floor and the framed, yellowed news clippings about Dr. Walden stood in stark contrast to the plush surroundings of his former upscale office in London. He knew it made little sense to compare then with now, but he couldn't help himself.
Only a few weeks ago he and Ruby had more money than they could spend, and they spent hard. Their apartment in London, although not quite a penthouse, had a serviced entrance with a uniformed attendant who referred to them, in a clipped cockney accent, as Mr. Laird and wife. He smiled inwardly at the thought. What was the attendant's name again? Something like Jeeves or was it Jones?
Suddenly, dark memories swept over him. Yes, the money had been good. He'd had access to all the material things he and his wife desired, but he was constantly drained, angry, and in a word—miserable. Utterly and totally miserable. He hated the job, hated the people he worked with, and most of all he hated himself for following the money rather than his passion. All in all, he thought, with a satisfied sigh, I feel better now than I did then. "I didn’t choose to leave my job," he mumbled to himself, "but I'm grateful that Battles Equity Partners is over and done with. Now all I have to do is find my passion."
"What was that you said?" inquired Dr. Walden.
Noel hadn’t heard Dr. Walden's office door open, didn't notice the good doctor standing at his desk. "I said, what did you just say?" the doctor repeated.
"Oh, just talking to myself, you know how that goes," Noel replied looking a little sheepish.
"Do it all the time, my friend. I just don't let the patients catch me at it since that wouldn't do at all, would it?"
Why are shrinks so indirect? Noel thought. But he got the message. "No Doc, I'll keep my mutterings in my mind from now on. That is unless I'm sitting in the chair in your office."
Dr. Walden laughed. "Love your sense of humor; we must work on bringing that out more in our sessions. Now let me tell you about your role and responsibi
lities."
For the next twenty minutes, Dr. Walden went over what he wanted Noel to do in his new role. There were patient appointments to book. It surprised Noel to see these recorded in a hardbound appointment book rather than on a computer. There were patient records and billings to maintain, kept in a battered, gray filing cabinet with creaky drawers and files yellowing with age. Finally, Noel was given the responsibility of screening calls.
"Only put them through if I'm not engaged with a patient, otherwise take a message, or better yet, set up an appointment," Dr. Walden said briskly, leaning forward and setting a partially emptied glass, which to Noel's surprise contained what looked like whiskey, on the desk.
"Got it," Noel replied in a cheery voice.
The doctor's eyes flashed with something Noel couldn't read. "And Noel, occasionally I take visits from individuals who aren't, how shall I put this… paying patients. There is no need for you to get involved with these individuals. Send them straight through to my office."
"How will I distinguish them from your regular patients?"
Dr. Walden opened the appointment book, flipped to his afternoon appointments, hesitated, and said, "Look there, in red. That's how I tell them apart."
Noel glanced at the page. In red pen at the three p.m. appointment slot were the letters M.R. "Who is M.R?" he asked innocently.
Dr. Walden's face darkened. "That's none of your business. All I want from you is to send the red-lettered individuals straight into my office. You don't need their names; send them straight through. Do I make myself clear?"
Chapter 16
The rest of the morning dragged by. Dr. Walden had no phone calls and no appointments. Noel spent the rest of the morning surfing the internet for jobs, and when he tired of that, he watched the second hand on the office wall clock tick slowly by.
At noon a local politician whom Noel recognized from the nightly news program arrived in the reception area. Dr. Walden welcomed the politician with a broad grin, hustling them into his office and closing the door with a thud.
After an hour, the door still closed, Noel stood up, stretched his legs and paced around the office. There wasn't much to do, so he stepped outside, but there wasn't much to see on the street or in the car parking lot at the side of the building.
He returned to the tiny reception area, paced some more, then out of boredom rather than curiosity, leaned his ear against Dr. Walden's office door. The voices, although mumbled, were audible through the thin wood.
"That about wraps it up," Dr. Walden said.
"Thanks, Doc," came the reply. "This session was most helpful."
Noel sprang back to his desk. As the door opened, he pretended to be busy examining the appointment book.
"Good day to you," the politician said as he hurried by Noel's desk. Noel looked up and smiled.
Just then a middle-aged man, wearing a cheap maroon suit, white shirt, and green tie walked into the reception area. His eyes were eager and bright, and a fringe of gray hair topped his balding head. He pulled a brown, oversized suitcase on wheels with his left hand.
"Here to see the doc," the man said rubbing his stubbled chin. "The name's Robinson, Mr. Robinson." He extended his hand.
They shook.
Noel glanced at the appointment book. "You are a few minutes early. I'll let Dr. Walden know you are here."
"One moment," Mr. Robinson said raising his hand. "I can wait." He paused as if in thought. "It always pays to be a little early… anyway, I wanted to share with you something marvelous."
That caught Noel's attention. "Really?"
Mr. Robinson stared at Noel like a crow eyeing a worm. "Do you have a moment for me to explain?"
With little else to do Noel nodded.
"Aqua!" Mr. Robinson said, enthusiasm filling his booming voice and spreading his arms out wide.
Noel shrunk back slightly half wondering if madness was the reason Mr. Robinson was meeting with Dr. Walden. "Go on," he said, despite himself. "I'm all ears."
"That's Latin for water," continued Mr. Robinson. "It is the source of life, so important that ancient civilizations considered it one of only five essential elements."
"Oh, I see," interrupted Noel, wondering where this was going.
Mr. Robinson stepped forward, placing his hands on the desk. "You understand that water is the key to life here on Earth?"
Noel nodded.
Mr. Robinson lowered his voice. "The sad thing is the water in our city pipes is… how can I put this… polluted."
"Polluted?"
"With chlorine and other unnatural chemicals. What you need, my man, is fresh, healthy water. Life-giving, pure water, not chemicals." Mr. Robinson half turned to look at his brown suitcase. "In that suitcase, I have the solution to all your water problems."
"You do?"
"Yes." He bent over, rummaged around in the suitcase and pulled out a strange-looking metallic device about the size of a small watermelon. "This is a zero-toxicity water filter. Connect it under your sink in two easy steps and you'll have an endless supply of fresh clean water! It usually retails for over one thousand dollars, but for you, today, I have a special limited time offer."
"Really?" Noel replied crossing his arms.
A glittering artificial smile adorned Mr. Robinson's face. "Not eight hundred dollars. I'd never do that to you. Not even five hundred dollars, which this unit is more than worth. I won't even charge you three hundred dollars, no, no, no. This unit is yours for two hundred dollars. Imagine it, in minutes your entire household will drink fresh, pure, crystal clear water. Now, what do you say?"
"No, thank you," Noel answered. "Dr. Walden is ready to see you now."
Mr. Robinson's smile vanished. His face sagged like a deflated balloon. "Thought the water filtration systems would fly off the shelves like hot cakes. Who doesn’t want clean, fresh water?" He nodded down toward the oversized carryall. "Not easy, going door-to-door lugging these things around, especially when no one is buying."
"Ah, Mr. Robinson," Dr. Walden said, strolling from his office into the reception area. "This way, please."
As Dr. Walden's office door closed, two men strode into the reception area. Noel recognized the first individual instantly and was fairly certain he had seen the second individual before.
The taller man was in his early sixties and wore sandals, a loose-fitting, ankle-length robe with an all-white fez balanced atop his head. In one hand he carried something that looked like a magician's wand and in the other an electronic contraption with wires poking out at random angles. Noel recognized his face from a television news story. He was Sage Oats, leader of the Austin chapter of the Natural Mystic Order of the Organic Temple.
The second man was much shorter, dark-skinned, wearing a white dhoti, and carried a pair of tabla drums. There was little doubt in Noel's mind this was the drummer who played at Danny Fontane's relaunch party.
Noel glanced toward the outside door, half hoping for a glimpse of the Indian dancers with their colorful, flowing saris and long, black hair. He let out a quiet sigh of disappointment when he realized the men were on their own.
For a brief moment, Noel stared blankly at Sage Oats, trying to recall an earlier news story about the religious leader. There had been trouble at a bookstore near the temple. Noel couldn't remember the exact details, but he was fairly certain it had something to do with a murder.
"Peace be with you. We are here for an appointment with Dr. Walden," Sage Oats said in a slow, careful voice. "I believe our client, Mr. Robinson, has already arrived."
"Yes," Noel replied, "they just started. Go on through."
It came back to him as the two men disappeared into the office. Yes, a murder that Amy and Nick had helped solve. It had happened before he and Ruby had returned to Austin. He made a mental note to ask Amy about it when he returned home.
When Noel was certain the session had begun, he picked up his cell phone and searched for Sage Oats and the Natural Mystic Order of the Org
anic Temple. He was halfway through a local news documentary in which the sage complained about high-end businesses pushing out longtime residents when he heard a strangled cry from Dr. Walden's office.
Noel sprung up, rushed to the office door, placed his hand on the door handle, hesitated, then pressed his ear to the door.
"Arrgh!"
"Now, now, Mr. Robinson, this is a natural part of the prosperity ceremony." It was the voice of Dr. Walden. "Please let Sage Oats attach the electronic wires."
"Are you quite sure?" Mr. Robinson asked, voice trembling.
"Do you want unlimited prosperity and success?" This time it was Sage Oats's voice.
"Well, yes."
"Let us begin." The sage's deep voice seemed to have a calming effect on Mr. Robinson, for he fell silent.
Then the drumming began.
Tap-boom-tap-tap-boom. Arrgh! Tap-boom-tap-tap-boom.
Noel could hear words spoken by Sage Oats, but with the drumming they sounded jumbled. He pressed his ear harder against the door. It didn't help.
For twenty minutes Noel stood, ear pressed hard and trying to decipher what was going on behind the closed door. Eventually, as the drumming subsided, Noel hurried back to his desk. "What on earth was that about?" he muttered as Dr. Walden's office door swung open.
Chapter 17
It was almost three p.m. when Mr. Robinson stepped out of Dr. Walden's office. He strode with confidence, back erect, shoulders back, head held high, through the reception area, pulling the oversized, battered, brown suitcase behind him with ease. At the door that led out of the reception area and into the busy street, he stopped, half turned and waved. "Gonna sell a million of these units now. Last chance for my two-hundred-dollar deal. As of today I'm asking three hundred. Want one?"
Again Noel shook his head. He didn’t drink water, didn’t like the taste.
"That's your loss," Mr. Robinson said with no malice as he stepped out into the street.
A minute or two later Sage Oats and the Indian drummer hurried out of Dr. Walden's office. They didn’t speak as they walked through the tiny reception area.
"Have a nice day!" Noel called after them. But neither man turned to acknowledge his remark.