Something nibbled at the edges of my mind. “Ask Dingler how many times he met with Kelly in the last month,” I said. “I’m pretty sure Sterling was poisoned over a period of time. Remember our deal. Fill me in on what you learn from Dingler. If you have no objections, I’m going to have a girl-chat with Addy when we return Heather. Talk to you later!”
I smiled. It felt good bossing the chief detective around. Perhaps I should split my time between cosmetics and crime investigation? Maybe old unsolved crimes? Cold cream and cold cases.
Dang! Once again I forgot to ask him if they had located Peanut’s car.
Chapter 28
Heather sat on the floor in the living room playing with Puff. The girl’s giggles were a delight and eased my mood. Lizzy kept me company in the kitchen while I prepared a snack for the youngster. I spread peanut butter and jelly on two pieces of bread, cut off the crusts, and sliced the bread into child-size sandwiches.
Lizzy’s cell phone sounded a few notes and she dashed to her purse to grab it. “Nuts! I missed it again.” She walked back into the kitchen studying the screen. “That’s the ninth call from Dave in the last few hours. Why is he calling so often and why not leave a message? Maybe something happened to WonderDog? I’ve been gone all day. Poor guy is probably busting to piddle.”
“Dave or WonderDog?” I asked.
“Both!” We said at the same time and giggled. As worried as I was, I couldn’t resist sharing a snicker. We had to keep things light to cope.
Lizzy twisted a lock of her hair with two fingers. “I hesitate to call Dave back because when I do, I’ll have to tell him about Sterling—he’s gonna find out anyway. His death might have even made the local news by now.”
“It must be all over the street in this small community. The famous divorce attorney. Why are you concerned about telling Dave?”
“I’d rather break the news to him in person. I suppose no matter what I say he’ll read something into the tone of my voice or the words I use. Dave’s always been jealous of Sterling with his fancy house and expensive cars. Can envy and jealousy be two different things or do they always mean the same?”
With little ears in the next room, it wasn’t the time for this conversation. Lizzy reached for my hand as I turned to set the sandwich plate on the kitchen table. “Before Heather joins us, what do you really think happened to Sterling?” Her voice was barely audible. “You’re experienced at this sort of thing—being from New York and all.”
I couldn’t help myself. I laughed out loud even though I knew she was serious. “You’ve been watching too much Law and Order. Thankfully most people who live in the Big Apple have as little first-hand experience with crime as people here.” I had yet to tell her about Myron. Maybe I should wait a year or two or ten before I further jaundiced her opinion of my hometown.
“I have something to tell you. Try not to get upset,” I spoke in a soft voice. “Kal has set a meeting with your father. He’s going to take his statement because of the argument he had with Sterling.”
She put her hand on her hip, glaring at me. “My father is Nelson Dingler, the almost commodore of the yacht club. He may not have any love for my sister or me, but we do have to stand up for him—often.” It was a loyal but bogus defense. I took it for what it was worth.
Lizzy paced the kitchen, one hand remaining on her hip and the other clutching her phone. “Despite losing all his stuff to Irma, he most certainly did not poison Sterling—if he was poisoned. Think about the timing. Irma only just ran off with Father’s stuff today, but according to Addy, Sterling hasn’t been feeling well for a few weeks.” A frown nipped the line between her brows.
I shrugged. “Except that Sterling has been thwarting your father’s bid to be commodore for years and the next election is set for the end of this month.”
“How do you know that? I’ll bet Kal told you. He blabbered, didn’t he?” She sighed. “Did he tell you we used to date? He was more into me than I was into him. He likes to blame my father for breaking us up.” She shrugged her face. “My father nagged about Kal not being good enough for his daughter. The irony is that Nelson Dingler doesn’t give a rat’s nose for his daughters.”
“Tell me about Sterling’s hair. Has it always been thin?” I asked as I opened the fridge and took out a quart of milk. I poured it into a small glass and set it on the table.
Lizzy pursed her lips to one side, squinted that eye shut, and stared at me with the other one. “What does his hair have to do with anything?”
“Maybe nothing, maybe it’s a clue. When I met him two days ago, his hair was thin, but it made a tolerable comb-over. Today he was almost bald. That’s a lot of hair down the drain.”
“I think I was too upset to notice. His anger throws me off—well not anymore.” The lines in her brow deepened. “Sterling always had thick hair.”
“Let it rest for now,” I said. “Heather!”
The girl ambled into the kitchen pressing Puff against her chest with one hand and a familiar looking catalog in the other. She placed the kitten on a chair. I fought to keep the pity off my face. She had no idea the chaos going on in her home.
“Miss Olive, I found this on the chair in that little room.” She handed me Nonna’s guide to poisonous plants. “We have the same book at our house!”
I motioned for Lizzy to lean in. She caught a jagged breath at the sight of the title of the catalog.
“You have a book just like this one?” I asked while taking it from her small hands.
“Pretty sure,” Heather said. She began to munch on her sandwich. “Thank you, Miss Olive. This is super good. Mom tried to make me a peanut butter and banana sandwich the other day but she couldn’t get the jar opened ‘cause it was new.” She giggled. “Not the bananas, the peanut butter.”
Lizzy’s phone rang again. She left the room to take the call.
Heather bit into the bread struggling to chew. “I have a loose tooth.” She poked at her mouth with one finger. “Is Peanut—I mean Mr. Nott —feeling better? Mom says I’m not allowed to call him Peanut but this sandwich reminded me of him.” She shook her head. “Poor man. He was really sick.”
Rather than frighten the child with my eagerness, I tempered my actions. Slipping into the chair next to her, I asked her about Mr. Nott’s bad day.
“He was very tired with the flu. He kept his eyes closed the whole time,” she said.
Lizzy stepped back into the kitchen when I was about to gently pry into how sick Peanut was. Her face had lost its tan. Her eyes were wide and unblinking. “Please join me in the living room for a minute?” Excusing myself from any clues Heather might share, I followed Lizzy into the next room.
“Dave’s in the hospital,” Lizzy said with a tremble in her voice. “All they’ll tell me is that he was attacked from behind and has a head injury. He gave the nurse his phone to call me. That’s who has been ringing me and not leaving any messages! She didn’t want to frighten me!”
I peeked at Heather as she sat chewing on her sandwich and chatting with Puff. “We only have the one car. Let me think! You’re in no condition to drive. We can’t take Heather with us to the hospital.”
Again, the crazed hamsters were running in the wheel of my brain. “I’ll see if Ivy’s home and willing to babysit. I am sure we can trust Nonna’s neighbor.”
Lizzy was frisking herself, hunting for a pack of smokes. Her hands shook as she came up empty.
“Calm down or you’ll upset the child. “I’ll be right back.” I dashed out the door, pressed the elevator and zipped up to Ivy’s apartment two floors up.
Chapter 29
Ivy rattled the inside lock and opened her door. The sight over her shoulder knocked my socks off—or would have if I wore socks. I squeezed my eyes shut. Please let it be a mirage. I opened my eyes. It was real.
With a howl of laughter, Myron Meyers braced his hands on the sofa and staggered to his feet. “You should see your face my little Olive!”
H
e waddled toward me like a bandy-legged turkey. Argyle socks, wingtip shoes, baggy walking shorts, and parrot-themed Hawaiian shirt. The only thing he needed to accessorize his outfit was a set of mouse ears.
“I deserve a hug for making the trip on that cattle car of an airplane! Nasty people!” He came towards me with his arms extended. Our patient-doctor relationship did not include bodily contact. This would be a first.
“Why?… What?...” I stuttered as he wrapped his arms around me.
The scent of his cologne punched me in the nose and knocked the air out of me. I was disoriented by the sight of him. He belonged in New York—not here! My fight or flight kicked in—heavy on the flight. Myron Meyers making cozy on the sofa in Ivy LaVine’s condo?
He released me just before I lost consciousness. Ivy stood on tiptoe and leaned into my face. “Your nostrils are flaring. You doing that on purpose?”
After a few slow, steady breaths I was able to smile. “This is a surprise, Myron.”
I made my way to the living room, clutched the back of an armchair, and maneuvered my bottom into the seat.
Ivy patted my hand. “Do you want some peach schnapps, darling? You look pale.”
Myron chuckled as he returned to his seat. “See Ivy. I told you I have an effect on women.”
I found my voice. “How do you know each other?”
“We just met in the elevator,” Myron said, looking proud of shocking the bees out of me. “My people talked to your people and bada bing bada boom, I find out the penthouse in Sandy Shores Towers is up for sale. I go on the computer and watch the video of the apartment. It looks good so wire the deposit, and here I am.”
There was a rascally glint in his eyes. “I’m not a nudnik. I had a feeling you weren’t coming back. It’ll be good for me—living here part time.”
My dream of a Myron-free life fluttered away like Lizzy’s finches.
Myron stretched his thick gold watchband and wiggled his fingers. “Circulation problem.” He rubbed under the band, fidgeting. “I close the contract next week. Not that kind of contract—buying a condominium contract. Ain’t that sumptin? Now you won’t ever have to worry about me. I’ll be right here when I need you, my Shiksa therapist.”
He waggled his eyebrows at Ivy. “Not that I need counseling. Olive is a good listener.”
That snapped me back into the real world. I turned my face away from Myron and lowered my voice. “Ivy, I have a favor to ask. I need a babysitter for a few hours.”
“Say that again.” Ivy leaned forward squinting at me.
Myron had no problem with his hearing. “Babysitting? You got family here I don’t know about? I’m good with kids.” He hopped from the sofa. “Is the kid in your apartment?”
The last thing I needed was the meddling of a maybe mobster. “A friend’s daughter who’s with me for the afternoon. Another friend just went to the hospital and I need to go see him.”
His bushy brows met at the bridge of his nose creating one long gray-white caterpillar over his eyes. “This friend in the hospital—was it an accident? You want I should come with you incase it’s a setup?”
“Thanks Myron. It really was an accident. Ivy would you mind staying with her?” I contorted my face trying to send signals that she didn’t receive.
Ivy clasped her hands together. “I love children. I’ll care for her as if she were my own.” She batted her lashes at the last person I wanted to see in Starfish Cove. “If Myron has the time, he’d be good company.”
I was stuck. Crammed between a favor asked and the terms granted. If I wanted Ivy, I had to accept Myron. They were a package deal.
Myron stood and tugged on the ends of his shirt, lining up the parrots. “Pretty nifty, huh? Got it at the airport.” He turned to Ivy. “Ready when you are.”
Heather was about to gain a mismatched set of grandparents—if only for the evening.
Ivy grabbed her handbag. Myron looked both ways before stepping out the door. I felt like a mother duck with two ducklings waddling behind me. We stepped into the elevator, my babysitters sharing flirtatious glances.
“I have good news!” Ivy said, as the elevator doors closed. “I bought an order book to keep track of the cold cream sales.” It took me a minute to remember what she was talking about; our new business had completely slipped my mind.
“You have exactly three-hundred and eighty orders so far!”
“That’s really amazing. You’re a great saleslady.” Despite my neglect, the business was booming. We hadn’t even set up shop. Hundreds of orders of magical cream and two murders—so far.
A dull headache lodged in my noggin as I led Myron into my condo. I never dreamed he would cross Nonna’s threshold.
Lizzy was pacing the living room, her face flushed and her eyes bulging with tension. She frowned at Myron and then looked at Heather for a reaction. The child slid off the sofa and approached her babysitters. “I’m Heather.” She extended her hand.
Ivy beamed at me. “We’re gonna be just dandy. Not to worry.” She turned back to Heather. “This is Mr. Meyers. He’s a friend of Miss Olive’s.”
I leaned over and whispered in Lizzy’s ear. “Not to worry. He’s an acquaintance from New York.” It seemed a neutral way of describing my anxiety-ridden patient with delusions of mob-hood.
“Hey, kid. You got a deck of cards?” Myron said. “I can show you some tricks.”
“Isabella keeps playing cards in the top drawer nearest the refrigerator. I’ll get them.” Ivy scuttled into the kitchen, retrieved a deck and handed them to Myron.
“We have to go!” Lizzy said. She stalked to the door. I followed.
“See you later!” Heather called to us from the sofa, as Myron cut the cards on the coffee table.
Ivy walked us to the door. I stopped to caution her. “Please don’t respond to any bell ringers or knockers. Pretend you’re not here.” I tapped the deadbolt. “Keep the door locked.”
She clutched her arms to her chest.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” I said. “I made another new friend who might pop in, but I’d rather not entertain when I return from the hospital. You know how it is.”
Ivy nodded.
Heather might be in danger. Kal said to keep her away from Sterling’s house. She was most likely better off with Ivy...and Myron! Never thought I’d think something like that.
Lizzy and I scooted out the door and into the elevator. She rubbed the back of her neck as we dropped to the parking level.
Neither of us spoke as we sped to the hospital. She looked so sad that I couldn’t think of anything to say to comfort her. I rapidly reviewed everything that had happened starting with Lizzy’s arrest, again and again and again, sort of speed reading on a memory level.
There could be no doubt the attack on Dave was tied to the deaths of Peanut and Sterling.
Chapter 30
Aside from the sculptured herons and palm trees that graced the entrance, the hospital could have been located in Anyplace, USA. I screeched into the emergency parking and we raced into the building.
A cheerful young lady at the front desk pointed us in the direction of Dave’s room. In truth there was no need to ask for directions as I could have found the room blindfolded. Despite the pervasive medicinal smell, the faint odor of fried fish led us down the hall.
Dave lay in a private room that was done up in shades of light blue. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady, and his head swathed in bandages. He was hooked up to a monitor that beeped reassuringly. A sheet covered his body from his toes halfway up his chest. He was wearing one of those hospital gowns with the neck strings untied and dangling over one shoulder.
He seemed to sense Lizzy’s presence because his eyes fluttered open. “You okay, Liz?” he mumbled reaching out for her. I quietly exhaled. He recognized her. Head injuries can have a devastating effect on a victim’s brain.
Lizzy rubbed her hand along his arm and then took his hand. “Are you in pain? What happene
d?”
“Don’t look so worried. I’ll be fine. Just a ding in the head.” Dave licked his lips and then glanced at me. I could tell he was struggling to remember my name. With me being a new acquaintance, his memory had to work a bit on recalling who I was.
I gave him my best gentle smile. “Olive. Olive Peroni from New York.”
He tried to nod but quickly moved his hand to his bandaged head. “Yeah. Olive and pepperoni.” He closed his eyes for a few seconds and then slowly opened them.
“Do you remember what happened?” Lizzy asked.
“Water?” He licked his lips.
Lizzy reached for a cup of ice on the nightstand. She picked a chip and ran it along his lips, back and forth a few times, until he whispered, “Enough.”
He took a deep breath and the monitor confirmed the steady beat of his heart. The pacing of his words was slow and cautious. “Got off after the lunch crowd and thought I might surprise you at the cottage. I wasn’t sure if you would be there. Afternoon delight and all that.” He smiled then paused, his eyes drifting as if looking back in time.
“There was a strange car parked behind the sand dune—silver, but I don’t remember the make or…” He motioned for more ice. Lizzy repeated the lip moistening, and he continued. “I took the tire iron from my truck just in case and walked into the cottage—the door wasn’t locked.”
“Nuts!” Lizzy flushed crimson. “I put the new key under the same fake rock.”
Dave gingerly touched his head. “Feels like I was kicked by a horse, a really big horse. It was a shocker when I pushed open your door. The place had been tossed. Things were scattered all over. I was certain Sterling had returned to finish wrecking your peace of mind. I called your name and then I called for WonderDog.” He caught a jagged breath.
“Poor dog came out from under the bed, wagging his tail, but then he growled. Before I could turn to see what he saw, something came crashing down on my head. The next thing I remember is being here in the hospital.”
Glossy Lips Page 12
