Shadow of Death

by Patricia Gussin

  “But you can’t miss that conference.” She shook her head. “It just won’t look good for you not to be there.”

  “There’s a blizzard in Montreal. Our baby-sitter has to leave this afternoon, and that’s that. Thanks for caring anyway, Lucy. It’s nice to know someone does.”

  Lucy smiled in spite of his last remark, wondering what brewed beneath its surface. Clearly protective of Steve Nelson, Lucy Jones felt she owed her job to him. And to Sister Mary Agnes. Just the memory of her cleaning job at General Motors made her cringe. Well, best not to promise yet, but at her next break, she could at least make a phone call. Maybe there was a way to help pay Steve Nelson back for all he’d done for her.

  At her mid-morning break Lucy phoned St. Mary-of-the-Woods, insisting that Stacy be called to the phone immediately.

  “Mom, what is it?” Her daughter sounded breathless. “I had to run up three flights of stairs. I was at the board, doing this trigonometry problem. Something happen to you? The girls?”

  “Everything’s fine,” Lucy quickly reassured. “I’m at work so I don’t have much time either, but I need to ask a big favor of you, baby.”

  “What is it?”

  “Well, you know I wouldn’t ask this of you unless it were very important to me.”

  “Shoot, Mom.”

  “I need you to baby-sit for my boss’s kids tonight and part of tomorrow. His wife is stranded in a blizzard, and he has to go to an important conference. It’s Mr. Nelson, baby. You know how much I owe him.”

  Stacy sucked in her breath. She had her own plans for tonight — at Baker’s Keyboard Lounge with Monica.

  Lucy ignored her daughter’s silence. “He could pick you up at St. Mary’s around two, drop you at his house and then drive on to Chicago as he had planned. Then, when his wife gets home, which could be on the very first flight to Detroit tomorrow, she can take you back to school.”

  Stacy hesitated. “Okay, Mom. What’s this guy’s full name so I can tell the nuns when he shows up to get me? Better yet, you’d better tell them yourself. They’re strict about security around here.”

  “Whatever it takes. I’ll let Mr. Nelson know,” Lucy breathed a sigh of relief. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down, baby.”

  Stacy slowly hung up the phone and sank into a nearby chair, gazing aimlessly around the school office. Now what was she going to do? Monica Williams had awakened on her sixteenth birthday to a brand new cherry red Mustang. She and Stacy were so excited about taking it out, that Stacy’d arranged to meet Snake. He’d called to tell her he’d gotten a real job, and she could hear the pride in his voice. Wanting to let him know that she was proud of him, she’d impetuously suggested that they go to Baker’s Lounge, Johnny’s favorite hangout. Now, walking slowly down the hall back to class, she wished she’d kept her mouth shut.

  After trig, Stacy found Monica, and they walked toward their lockers. “Oh man,” she fretted, “I’ve got to get in touch with Snake, but they don’t have a phone.”

  Monica’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  “Really. He’s going to show up at Baker’s and I’m not going to be there? Man almighty, he’ll be so pissed. Listen, I’ll describe him to you, and you can tell him something urgent came up, okay?”

  “What? I’m not going without you. I’m not going to Baker’s alone, Stacy.”

  They agreed that Monica would try to find another friend to go with her; with any luck, she would figure out who Snake was. Oh, why had she ever agreed to meet him anyway? He still smoked dope, but she didn’t. Drugs were definitely not on her agenda. Did she think she could save him? Get real, she told herself. Maybe it was all for the best that she couldn’t go. If Mama found out she was seeing Snake, she would never trust her again. Trouble was that being practically locked up in a girl’s school there was no way she could meet nice black boys. Her classmates were mostly white with only white boys in their lives. And that left her out.

  In Montreal, David grabbed the only available taxi and directed the driver to the airport, searching for Laura. He had called her after his session earlier this morning to let her know that all outgoing flights from Montreal were cancelled for at least 24 hours. His face clouded over when the hotel clerk told him that Laura Nelson had checked out of the hotel and left for the airport.

  “Sorry, sir, but the young lady said she simply had to get home,” the clerk said. “I told her that we’d have to give her room away, but she didn’t care.”

  Eventually, David found Laura among the throngs at the airport. She was still seated in the corner, her eyes half-shut as she made her way through the gigantic medical text she had lugged to Canada. She looked small and alone in the milling, disgruntled crowd.

  * * *

  “Laura, what are you doing here?” The alarmed voice startled her and a flash of adrenaline jolted her awake.

  “Oh, you scared me.” Laura struggled to get up. “My flight’s been cancelled so I’m waiting for the next one out. I’m so sorry that I missed your session. But what are you doing here? You weren’t scheduled to leave until Saturday, I thought.”

  He nodded. “Let’s go get some lunch, and we’ll talk.”

  Eventually, Laura succumbed to his argument that no planes were leaving that day and that she could stay in the second bedroom of his hotel suite. He promised to get her to the airport first thing the next morning. They could have dinner at the hotel, and she would have a comfortable night’s sleep. Laura wasn’t sure whether it was the memory of the last evening or the horrible gnawing hunger in her stomach that eventually convinced her to leave with David.

  “I have to make one call before I leave,” she told him as he carried her suitcase toward the waiting cab.

  “Why don’t you wait until we get back to the hotel? This place is a zoo,” he glanced toward the line of people waiting for access to the bank of pay phones located near the exit.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to do this here,” she insisted. “It’s important.”

  David stayed with Laura as she waited her turn for the next available pay phone and then walked away as she dialed Steve’s phone number at work. One of the office clerks answered, which was not unusual. Steve was often in the field working with clients.

  “Oh, Mrs. Nelson,” the friendly voice replied. “I almost forgot. I’m supposed to transfer any calls from you to Mrs. Jones.”

  “Where’s Mr. Nelson?” Laura questioned.

  “He left a few minutes ago for the Chicago conference.”

  “What?”

  “Here’s Mrs. Jones right now,” the cheery voice announced.

  Lucy explained to Laura in her most reassuring voice that everything was fine. By now, her considerable talent in dealing with distressed clients was serving her well.

  “You’re sure that your daughter can handle four young children by herself?” Laura repeated the third variation of this question.

  “Yes, Mrs. Nelson. My daughter is very responsible, and she’s had lots of experience. She took care of her three younger sisters almost by herself when I worked a different job. So don’t you worry none. Your husband’s gone to pick her up at St. Mary-of-the-Woods, where she goes to school.”

  St. Mary-of-the-Woods Academy had a reputation as the best girl’s high school in the Detroit area. That made Laura feel a little more secure.

  “But why don’t you call her tonight to make sure everything’s okay? I’ll call her too just in case she needs any advice. Now, don’t you worry. Everything’s going to be fine,” Lucy reassured.

  Her voice tentative, Laura finally thanked Mrs. Jones. Steve, she knew, had a lot of confidence in his assistant so hopefully she could trust his judgment in deciding to leave their children with a stranger, a young girl they’d never met. Funny though, while she was talking with the woman, she felt somehow like she knew her. Unlikely, considering she’d never even been to Steve’s office. Mrs. Jones? But Jones was such a common name.

  David unlocked the door to his lavish su
ite on the eleventh floor of the Bonaventure. He held it open as Laura walked in.

  “This is beautiful,” she marveled, “and so big.” Her eyes rapidly scanned the spacious, elegantly appointed parlor. Two large oriental vases flanked the ornately carved mahogany door that opened into the huge room. The far wall was dominated by a blue veined opalescent marble fireplace with a collection of more oriental vases on the mantle. Plush sofas in expensive brocade created an intimate, gracious effect. A huge arrangement of fresh flowers in muted yellows and pinks adorned the large rectangular dining room table, also a rich mahogany. Heavy draperies framed the bay windows, allowing just enough sunlight to make the Waterford crystal sparkle in the large display cabinet. Laura had never even imagined that hotels had magnificent suites like this.

  “Leave your luggage here and let’s go down and get some lunch. You must be starving,” David suggested. “Here, let me hang your coat in the closet.”

  “Do I need to change?” Laura glanced down at her jeans and bulky turtleneck sweater.

  “You’re fine,” he said. “I’m putting your things in the bedroom. There’s a private bathroom in there. Do you need a couple of minutes to get settled?”

  “Sure. Thanks.” Laura waited silently in the bedroom as David deposited her suitcase on the luggage rack, then closed the door behind him.

  The room had been recently made up. A billowy down comforter lay atop the huge king-size bed. Rich draperies of white brocade framed the large window. The attached bathroom featured a large porcelain tub set off by brightly polished brass. Fluffy white towels embellished with stylized gold monograms were piled high in glass and brass racks. Right or wrong, here she was. She looked into the mirror and dabbed on some lipstick.

  “Is there another bedroom?” Laura asked as she stepped back into the parlor.

  “You’re standing in it,” David replied. “The sofa makes a nice bed and with the bathroom over in that corner, I’ll be all set.”

  “Oh no, I can’t take your bed,” Laura objected. “I thought you said there were two bedrooms.”

  “I didn’t mean to deceive you, Laura,” he said with a smile. “I stretched it a little and counted this as one. It’ll be just fine. Believe me, I sleep in a lot less comfortable situations at the hospital.”

  Lunch was casual and pleasant. Laura ordered a Roquefort cheeseburger with French fries and a Coca-Cola.

  “Thanks, David. I really needed that,” she said as she swallowed the first few bites. “Now I can start to think straight. First, how and when am I going to get home?”

  David Monroe frowned. “Is everything okay?”

  “Actually good news. Steve got a big promotion at work. And, he got a baby-sitter for tonight.”

  Laura recounted her conversation with Steve’s assistant. She tried to convince both herself and David that everything would be fine but had trouble hiding her anxiety. They’d stopped in the hotel lobby where Laura retrieved Steve’s last telephone message explaining that his assistant had stepped in and saved the day.

  “Well, here’s your key. I’ve moved my things out of the closet so it’s all yours. Please feel free to use the phone. You’ll want to check with the airlines frequently. Also, call home as often as you feel like it. My guess is that’ll make you feel better. I have a meeting all afternoon so the suite is yours entirely.”

  “Oh, that’s really nice of you,” Laura said. “I am sorry I missed your session.”

  “Same thing I teach at the med school,” he responded. “Everything’s over at five. I’ll meet you around then, and we’ll decide what to do next, okay?”

  “I’ll be fine,” Laura said, “just go about your business. I do appreciate the use of the phone. You have to keep feeding the pay phones Canadian coins. I’ll pay you for the calls if you let me know how much.”

  “Your not worrying is payment enough,” David said.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  David found Laura was curled up on the bed with the phone when he returned to the suite. He paused at the door until she said her good-byes.

  “Here’s the latest from home,” she told him. “Mikey says the baby-sitter is okay with him. She sounds bright and confident.”

  “Talk to Kevin too?”

  “Sure did.” Laura smiled. “He’s my real information source. Said Stacy’s going to make them hot dogs for dinner. Seems he beat her at Fish, and he’s feeling very smug.”

  “How about the twins?”

  “So far, so good. I told Stacy what to feed them and left her with detailed instructions. As long as Mikey and Kevin are with them, they’re happy.”

  “Good deal.” David hesitated before stepping into the room. “Now that you’re up to date, what do you say we get something to eat?”

  “Oh, and did you see the huge bouquet of flowers that arrived?”

  David said he had. “Just protocol for these suites. My secretary got in the habit of reserving VIP accommodations when I used to travel with my wife, but I don’t need all this special treatment.”

  The mention of David’s wife stopped Laura. “David,” she began. “I had to make a decision today that I want you to know about. I decided not to tell anyone back in Detroit that I was still here at the hotel. I’ve led everybody to believe that I’m still at the airport since I’d already told them I’d checked out. That means nobody can contact me.”

  David grimaced. “Is that wise?”

  “Well, let’s be perfectly honest,” Laura shifted on the bed, “if Steve ever found out that I’d shared a hotel room with another man, he would go berserk. As innocent as my staying here is, he would never understand. I’d always be under a cloud of suspicion.”

  “I understand. I suggest you call home often then,” David advised somewhat uneasily.

  Laura nodded. “A little while ago the phone rang, and I didn’t answer it. My God, I thought, it could be your wife. Or maybe your secretary and she would recognize my voice. The message light’s not on, so I can’t say who it was, and I’m sorry.”

  David waved his hand. “No problem, Laura. If it were important, whoever it was would have left a message.”

  An ominous feeling washed over David as he recalled a scene two years earlier when Cynthia had unexpectedly walked into his hotel room in Las Vegas. Suspicious as always, she had expected to find him with another woman, a cute ER nurse who had accompanied him to the annual seminar on chest trauma. Cynthia had stormed into his room at two in the morning. The anxious cloud that enveloped him quickly dissipated as he realized that Montreal was inaccessible. Laura couldn’t get out. Cynthia couldn’t get in. Not that she would even try, not anymore.

  The only option for dinner was one of the hotel dining rooms, so David made a reservation at the French gourmet restaurant on the top floor. Before leaving for dinner, Laura checked home one more time. All was well at eight o’clock.

  They entered the restaurant chatting comfortably. To a stranger’s eye, they looked like a happy, successful couple. Cocktails were followed by a four-course dinner, exquisitely prepared and elegantly served. David ordered a bottle of Cabernet to accompany the Beef Wellington they had each ordered. Coffee and dessert followed. Once again, it was a delectable meal, enhanced by the candlelight.

  Their conversation became intimate. David expressed a growing desire to learn more about Laura — about her background, her dreams, her hopes, everything she liked, didn’t like. Likewise he opened up to her, telling her about his childhood and early professional career. His pain was obvious as he recited as objectively as he could the status of his relationship with Cynthia. He couldn’t avoid the focus on his overwhelming desire for children. Cynthia had been unwilling. He explained how Cynthia had always been terrified of pregnancy. How her mother had died in childbirth. Tears clouded his eyes as he described the pregnancy that she’d terminated. How he thought that she might have reconsidered having a child, but how he hadn’t even listened closely enough to what she was trying to tell him. Finally he told her a
bout Ruth Davis, openly confessing his shame and disappointment. It felt strangely comforting to be able to share those feelings with Laura.

  Laura listened, shock and sadness intermingling. A dynamic and passionate man like David should have a perfect wife, a woman to cherish and understand him. She asked a few sensitive questions, including whether Cynthia’s lover was Raymond Walson’s law partner, the one who had attempted suicide.

  “Yes,” David readily admitted. “How did you know?”

  “Oh, just a guess. Based on something Vicky Walson once said.”

  “I don’t think Cynthia will risk any future liaisons with Ruth,” David predicted. “It has to do with social status. Divorce is hardly acceptable in our circle, and homosexuality would be unthinkable. So, I’m just trying to live each day as it comes.”

  Laura took a sip of wine before blurting, “Are you sleeping with her?” She shocked herself with such an intrusive question.

  “No, Laura,” David responded slowly, sadly. “No, not since then. Actually several months before that. We have no desire to be with each other that way at all.”

  “That’s very sad. I hope to God that my relationship with Steve never gets that bad” She looked away.

  They left the restaurant at 11:00 p.m. arm-in-arm. Neither really cared if anyone saw them. Absorbed in each other, having divulged so many private details about their lives over these past two days, it had become clear to them that they knew more about each other than any person on earth.

  “I think it’s too late to call home again tonight,” Laura concluded as she settled herself on one of the large overstuffed sofas in the expansive suite.

  “Agreed, but I’m going to check with the airlines,” David announced as he opened the brocade draperies covering the large picture window. As they parted to expose the city below, Laura inhaled sharply. The night sky was a clear midnight blue. Gone were the low, heavy snow clouds, having dumped their contents on their way northward. The moon was full and golden light flooded the hotel room as David made his call.