Deception

by Lori Avocato

  The cork came out, pushing the bottle in the opposite direction. Reaching between her legs, she rescued the wine, juggling the bottle as she brought it to the table. Cabernet splashed over the white, linen tablecloth, filling the empty spaces on the diners’ plates of prime rib.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  The woman jumped up, cursing. Her escort’s language surpassed the woman’s in color and intensity.

  I slanted a glance at Vita’s table and our gazes locked.

  Uh-oh.

  “So sorry. We’ll be right back.” I smiled at the couple whose meal sat drenched as I grabbed Audrey’s arm and her cane. I scuttled her out of the room.

  We didn’t stop until we reached the front door. That’s when Vita clenched my hood, giving an abrupt tug. My head snapped back.

  “What are you doing here, besides making a spectacle of yourselves?” Her eyes narrowed as she scanned our outfits from top to bottom.

  “We wanted to be sure you were safe.” The sincerity of Audrey’s smile softened Vita’s scowl.

  Vita pulled us into the coatroom just off the front hallway. “Take off those ridiculous costumes.” As she draped them over hangers, her voice turned icy. “Go home. I’m perfectly fine. I don’t want you tracking me like a couple of bloodhounds with sinus problems.”

  Audrey’s brows dipped into a frown as she mouthed Vita’s final two words. I shrugged.

  “If you two weren’t my best friends, I’d divorce you.” Vita huffed as she spun to return to the table. Over her shoulder she called, “Go home. I mean it!”

  5

  Sufficiently scolded, Vita would expect Audrey and me to head back to Harmony Hills. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom. Casually, I pointed my car toward downtown Omaha and the Orpheum Theater. We’d have to be more careful so Vita wouldn’t catch us as we spied on her and that smarmy date of hers.

  We were nearly downtown when my cell phone rang. I pulled to the side of the road to take the call.

  “Mrs. Powers,” the male voice said, “I’m Detective Kyle Eckhoff. My mother-in-law is Margaret Fuller. I believe you know her. She gave me your phone number.” His voice sounded calm and controlled. I don’t know why, but all of a sudden I wished Margaret hadn’t told me that he’d fainted dead away in the birthing room when his first child was born last year.

  “Oh yes, detective. It’s nice to meet you.” If talking on the phone could be considered a meeting.

  “I’m calling about the glove you gave to Tiffany Campbell.”

  My throat went dry as my heart skipped, then pounded.

  Detective Eckhoff continued. “We processed the fingerprints on the glove.”

  “They matched, didn’t they?” I knew the answer before I’d asked the question. Like how you know it’s bad news before the doctor even sits down across from you to discuss the biopsy results. I had the same sinking, sick feeling now that I’d had on the day my husband had been diagnosed with cancer. He’d died three months later.

  The detective hesitated. “We would like to talk with the man whose prints were on the glove.”

  I swallowed hard to push down a scream. “They match the murderer’s in Des Moines, don’t they?” I asked again, a cold sweat pooling at the nape of my neck.

  “Please, Mrs. Powers. No need for you to worry. We just need any contact information you might have on the man.”

  My grip tightened on the phone. I slowed my breathing. Panic could cost Vita her life. “You don’t understand, detective. My best friend is out on a date with him. With the murderer. Right now. And she’s wearing a fortune around her neck.”

  I turned to Audrey. “Call her,” I ordered.

  Audrey’s fingers flew over her cell phone. Vita didn’t answer.

  My stomach twisted into tight knots.

  “If they’re already in the theater, she might have set the phone to vibrate or turned it off,” Audrey suggested.

  “Where were they the last time you saw them?” Detective Eckhoff asked. “Where were they going?”

  “They were just finishing dinner at The Monastery when we left a short while ago. But since she spotted me there, they might be on their way to the Orpheum by now.”

  Audrey snatched the phone from my hand and started talking to the detective. “Audrey Campbell here. I’m the grandmother of Tiffany, the girl who brought the glove to your attention. I’m a good friend of the potential murder victim.”

  Heaven save us.

  She continued, “There’s a locator chip in the phone I gave Vita earlier tonight. I’m tracking them right now on my cell. They’re headed downtown, crossing Forty-second and Dodge. We’ll call you back when they stop.”

  Audrey tossed my phone back to me as she punched more buttons on her own cell. I quickly turned off the phone but not before I heard the detective warn me not to follow or engage the alleged suspect. The last thing he said was, “Let the police handle this, Mrs. Powers.”

  Like hell I would. Losing friends to disease and old age is commonplace at Harmony Hills. I’m not about to lose one to murder. Not if I can help it.

  I started the car, pulling out into traffic. “Keep tracking them, Audrey. I want to intersect their path.”

  “Roger.”

  “How do you know this spy technology?” I asked.

  She offered me a weak smile and shrugged. “Tiffany and I keep track of each other. I borrowed her cell for the evening and gave Vita mine.”

  Smart cookie.

  Audrey showed me the phone screen. A blip crossed Thirtieth and Dodge.

  We were only a block behind them now.

  A mist fell on the windshield. I willed my heartbeat to slow to the rhythm of the wiper blades. When the rain picked up, I sped up the wipers. Panic hastened my heartbeat until it soon matched the wild tempo of the blades.

  “Looks like they’re headed to the Old Market,” Audrey said.

  I ran a stale yellow light. Finally, we spotted them in a beige Buick two cars ahead. “If they see us, he might bolt. We’ll wait until they stop, then call Detective Eckhoff.”

  We lost visual contact when they turned a corner and we were stopped by a red light. When the signal changed, I raced around the corner in time to see the two of them walk into a three-story warehouse on the edge of the Old Market shopping district. Audrey and I parked in front of the worn brownstone with construction signs indicating its conversion to luxury apartments. A debris chute extended from a second story window.

  I opened the car door, snatching Audrey’s cane. “Stay here and call Eckhoff with the address.”

  As I ran into the building’s foyer, the elevator door closed just as I locked gazes with Frank Guilford, his eyes as hollow, black, and cold as a shark’s. I pulled against the door, but the vestibule was locked, passage only available by key or invitation. However Frank got in, I wouldn’t be so lucky.

  Many years ago, I’d worked for a construction company and knew the setup most typically used. Renovation usually started at the top. I had a hunch Frank hadn’t rented an apartment, so that put Vita one floor above me. With the murderer. Alone.

  I dashed around the side of the building. Adrenaline put spring into my jump and I hooked Audrey’s cane on the bottom rung of the fire escape. It sunk close to the ground under my weight. Scuttling up the ladder, I reached the second story platform. Cloud-muted daylight spilled through the window as I rubbed the pane, stained with age and grime. I pressed my nose to the glass.

  Metal braces had been constructed to plat the apartments, but none of the wallboard had been mounted yet. The silhouette of Vita embracing Frank at the far end of the floor sent shivers crawling over me. When they ended their kiss, Frank whispered in her ear and Vita screamed.

  A burst of color flashed before my eyes. Vita needed me–now! I swung the cane, shattering the window. Raking glass from the frame, I bounded into the building, thankful Audrey wasn’t with me to hurt herself.

  In the distance, Frank grappled with Vita. He
lifted her from the ground and her legs thrashed. Her fingers clawed at his hands gripping her throat. I felt their tightening squeeze in my own clenched windpipe.

  No you don’t, you viper!

  I shrieked, my legs pumping like a diesel train as I ran to Vita. All the while, I swung Audrey’s cane over my head.

  He let go of Vita and she slumped to the floor. Backing up, he twisted from right to left looking for an escape route. Then instead of heading toward the exit sign behind him as I had expected, he rushed toward me.

  Channeling all my fury, I charged forward. Three steps in front of him, I vaulted and whirled in the air, swinging the cane like a kung-fu master. Its head connected with his shoulder. The blow slowed but didn’t stop him. He skirted around me, pinning my back to his chest. Then he pulled the cane to my neck. I could only pray Eckhoff and Audrey would arrive in time.

  I struggled for space between the stick and my throat, but he was too strong. I scraped the side of my shoe down his shin, ending with a stomp on his instep.

  His grip loosened and I wrenched the cane from his hands although he still kept me wrapped backwards in his arms. Gripping the cane at mid-length I reached over my shoulder hooking him behind his neck. Then I pulled, squatting at the same time–like the self-defense teacher had shown me in the classes offered at The Village. Frank rolled over my rounded shoulders and flopped onto the concrete floor, hitting squarely on his back with a thud.

  His eyes popped wide. His mouth opened, but he couldn’t suck in air. I’d knocked the wind out of him. Thank you, Lord!

  I’ve seen enough horror films to know the murderer always bounces up when the victim turns her back. So without mercy, I brought the head of the cane down on his crotch and he shrunk up like a pill bug.

  By then Vita was still shaky, but on her feet. As she hurried toward me, I pulled her with me, and we ran to the plastic curtain blocking the trash chute I’d seen earlier. If I hadn’t stopped her, I suspect Vita would have dived in head first. Instead, she grasped the top of the tube, jumping into the chute like a child on a slide. I followed closely behind her.

  Only after we landed in the drywall scraps and wiring bits that filled the dumpster, did I hear a man’s cries for us to stop.

  Was that murdering fiend back on his feet for round two? I grabbed a split two-by-four from the trash heap and spun, ready to defend us again. If I had my way, Frank Guilford would never prey on a weak woman again.

  A young man’s head stuck through the hole at the top of the chute. “Mrs. Powers, it’s Detective Eckhoff. Are you all right, ma’am?” he yelled.

  I looked at the raw, red marks on Vita’s neck. They contrasted brightly against the double-strand of white diamonds still safely around her neck. “Are we okay?” I asked her.

  Vita brushed wet insulation from her forehead. “Peachy.”

  I wrapped my friend in a hug and squeezed like a python.

  “We’re fine,” I shouted back. Looking up into the steady rain, I saw a second man standing next to the young detective. I shielded my eyes from the rain to get a better look. The man had a full head of white hair, broad shoulders and a huge grin.

  Kyle Eckhoff hitched a thumb in the older man’s direction and yelled. “Oh, by the way, this is my partner, Detective John Vendetti.”

  The sound of a chuckle wafted down the construction chute. “Mrs. Powers,” Vendetti called, “what’d you do to this guy up here? He’s nearly turned inside out.”

  Clearly breathing better now, Vita’s eyes twinkled as she shouted to Vendetti, “Kay is the star of the Cane Fu defense classes she’s been taking every Wednesday.”

  I hugged Vita again, grateful we’d all come through this alive and unhurt. Come Wednesday afternoon, I’d make certain Vita and Audrey attended the classes with me.

  Vita slowly pulled away from me. Then she elbowed me in the ribs, nodded towards Vendetti, and flicked her wrist–the Italian gesture indicating a hot specimen of the opposite sex. She whispered, “He’s just your type, Kay. It’s time to jump back in the saddle.” She added emphasis by wiggling her eyebrows.

  I scoffed. Dating was fine for Vita, and even for Audrey, but certainly not for me. The last first date I’d had was during Nixon’s administration. I’d married that man; had a family with him. Spent over forty years with him. That’s plenty of love for a lifetime.

  Glancing over my shoulder again, I caught Vendetti’s profile, now perfectly framed by the trash chute.

  Holy smokes. The man was gorgeous.

  I sighed, and then smiled.

  Who knows? Maybe Vita is right.

  A DANGEROUS HAVEN

  Susan Sweet

  1

  June, 1935

  Judy tiptoed down the long, dark hallway. Only a few more steps and she would be at the elevator. Slipping silently into its murky depths, she hurriedly shut the accordion-like doors, then pulled the lever to point to the second floor. As the cage closed, she slowly released the breath she’d been holding. The ancient elevator rattled and groaned its way to the second level. When she pulled the lever once more to open the doors, the frightened girl looked to the left and right, making sure no one was in the hall. The elevator car was uneven with the floor, so she hopped up onto the floor and dashed down the corridor until she reached the door marked Nursery. Trying the door knob and finding it locked, she gave the reinforced glass a timid knock.

  Freda the pediatric nurse opened the door. “What are you doing down here this time of the morning, girl?” The stout nurse stepped out of the room, forcing her to back up into the hall. Freda pulled the door closed behind her, then placed her hands on her hips. “I asked you a question.”

  Judy cleared her dry throat. “I...I want to see my baby please, for just a minute.”

  “Now you know I can’t let you do that. Didn’t you give your little girl up for adoption?”

  Judy dropped her head, trying to hide the tears gathering in her eyes. “Yes, ma’am, but I don’t want to give her up. Really I don’t. Can’t I please just see what she looks like?”

  Freda shook her head. “Sorry, child, you knew the rules before you came down here. Any baby given up for adoption is off limits to the birth mother. You better go back upstairs before the staff knows you’re gone. Off with you now!” Freda turned, opened the door, and disappeared inside.

  It had been a long shot coming down here, but Judy hadn’t been able to stop herself. She walked over to the window to see if she could peek inside the nursery, but the drapes were pulled shut. Her heart breaking, she dragged her way back to the elevator. Reaching her floor, she exited and walked to her room. All the girls who were giving up their babies had private rooms. The gray painted interior matched the gloom of her thoughts. She reached under the single bed and pulled out her suitcase. After donning slacks and a sweater, she shut the case and turned toward the door.

  Detours down darkened and deserted halls finally led her outside. She pushed the heavy door shut, then marched down the sidewalk. She’d be darned if she would go home, the very place where her daughter was unwelcomed—the place that still held harsh, bitter memories for Judy. Her mother had made it perfectly clear that adoption was Judy’s only option. From that moment, she’d hated her mother. And she could no longer think of that house as home.

  Taking one final look at the unwed mothers’ building where she’d stayed the last six months, Judy turned and walked away.

  2

  October 1967

  Judy ran to answer the insistent doorbell. “I’m coming! Hold your horses, okay?” Upon yanking open the large oak door, she saw two women standing on the stoop. After wiping her hands on her apron, Judy half-heartedly apologized. “Sorry it took so long, but I was back in the kitchen.”

  “No, I’m sorry for Vick’s bad manners,” offered the young woman on the left. “I’m Kathleen Brady. This is my daughter Victoria. I called a few days ago about Vick lodging here?”

  Judy backed into the foyer, and motioned them inside.
“Of course, come in.”

  Kathleen peered down the hall. With an appraising look and nod she smiled. “What a beautiful old home. I haven’t seen anything like this, ever.”

  Judy savored the compliment. “Thank you so much. This used to be brothel.” At Kathleen’s stricken look, she laughed. “Used to be. When I first came to Alligator County, I worked here as a maid/cook for Cheryl Cherié, the madam. When she died ten years ago, she left this place to me.”

  “Oh, I see.” Kathleen resumed her perusal of the dwelling. “When did you convert it to its present state?”

  “Originally my husband David and I made small apartments out of the rooms. Then a few years ago, we added new plumbing on all the floors and remodeled. He’s a semi-retired policeman, and I was a volunteer at the hospital. We saw a need for a haven for young women who are facing childbirth on their own. Hence Haven House.”

  “I must say, you have an outstanding reputation. I’m just glad you had a vacancy last week. What a Godsend for us!” Kathleen put her arm around her daughter and gave her a quick squeeze.

  “Thank you. We try to make this stay as much like home as we can. Come... Vick, is it?”

  The young woman nodded.

  “Okay then, let’s show you to your apartment upstairs so you can unpack while your mom and I get paperwork out of the way. Follow me.”

  She led Kathleen and Vick up the staircase to the second floor. “On the left are the tenants who are staying with their babies for a year. On the right are the tenants who are either giving their children up for adoption or already have a home to go to once the baby is born.” Judy stopped and turned to Vick. “Your mom didn’t state which one was your intention, but since there is only one apartment open, I’m afraid you don’t get much of a choice. It’s on the right side. Apartment 204.”