Regan Reilly Boxed Set 1

by Carol Higgins Clark

  Abigail’s cell phone rang. She had left it on the coffee table in the living room. “Maybe the delivery guy got lost,” Abigail said hopefully as she hurried out of the kitchen.

  But it wasn’t the delivery man.

  Detective Vormbrock was calling. He and Detective Nelson wanted to have another chat with Abigail.

  34

  Nora loved staying at the Breakers Hotel. She and Luke usually went down for ten days every January. By then the holidays were over, she’d have finished her latest book, and they could enjoy some rest and relaxation. This year the weather was even warmer than usual, which put lounging by the pool at the top of Nora’s to-do list. And that’s exactly what she was doing.

  Luke had once again gone to play golf. Later they’d join friends for drinks and dinner. After a light lunch, Nora had staked out one of the lounge chairs in the back row and set up camp. She planned to relax there until it was time for her 3:30 massage appointment in the spa. Wearing a wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses, she applied suntan lotion then pulled a newspaper out of her bag.

  The headline announced the earthquake in Los Angeles. Nora sighed. I was sitting here yesterday when Regan called to say she was going to Los Angeles. Who’d have thought I’d be sitting here twenty-four hours later reading this?

  Nora devoured every word about the earthquake, then felt her eyes starting to get heavy. This is crazy, she thought. I certainly slept last night. I guess I’m catching up on needed shut-eye. She put down the paper, lowered the beach chair to a more comfortable angle for snoozing, and closed her eyes. The sounds of activity around the pool were in their own way relaxing. No one was chattering loudly but conversations still reached Nora’s ears.

  Then she heard the scraping of chairs. She opened her eyes for a moment. Two women were sitting down nearby, positioning their chairs to face the sun. They were both very attractive and shared a love of expensive jewelry.

  “Judy, I’m so glad I ran into you. I flew down here the minute my divorce papers came through. It’s nice to finally spend some of that miser’s money without asking permission. He never gave me an extra cent. It was all for his kids, nothing for my son.”

  “How is your son?”

  “He was in Los Angeles last night during the earthquake. When I heard about it this morning, I called his cell phone and told him it would have been nice to let his mother know he was all right.”

  The other woman laughed. “My son is the same way. He took off for Europe last summer and do you think he called to let us know how he was? No. We’d get one-sentence e-mails. Now he has a girlfriend, so I hope he’ll settle down a bit more. Is your son seeing anybody?”

  “He mentioned something about an actress. I don’t know…”

  Nora felt like raising her hand and saying, “My kid was there for the earthquake, too!” Feeling groggy, she drifted off to sleep. When she woke up, the two women were gone.

  35

  By the time Gloria parked her car in the lot of the Beverly Hills office building where she worked, she was even more irked than before. She was trying to remember what she had seen yesterday that struck her as unusual, but all she could think about was those two detectives. They looked as if they’d like nothing better than to send me to the electric chair, she thought.

  Well, at least I’ll have to focus on other things for the next few hours, she reminded herself as she rode in the elevator from the garage up to the office of Dr. James Cleary, dermatologist to the stars. It will be an escape from all that craziness back at the homestead. How wrong she was.

  “Gloria, you’re here!” Nicole gasped as Gloria walked through the door. Nicole was one of the stylish twenty-something young women who worked in the office. She and Gloria answered the phones. “Are you all right?”

  “I’ve had better days.”

  Nicole held up the newspaper. “Tara just saw this. It said you found your neighbor’s dead body! Oh my God! We didn’t think you’d come to work.”

  “It was horrible,” Gloria said as she hung up her coat. “But I certainly didn’t want to stay home with nothing to do but obsess over everything that happened.”

  Dr. Cleary, a man of few words, was sympathetic. “Gloria, if there’s anything I can do for you,” he said gravely, patting her arm.

  “How about a free round of Botox?”

  Cleary pretended to laugh. “I’m glad to see you can joke about it,” he murmured, then disappeared down the hall to his private office.

  I guess that means no, Gloria thought. She came around the desk, sat in her chair, and was ready to take on the day. But flashes of the scene surrounding the discovery of Nicky’s body kept replaying in her head. What was it that gave me pause? she wondered. What struck me as unusual?

  The phones started ringing, knocking her out of her reverie.

  “I need Botox.”

  That makes two of us, Gloria thought as she gave the caller an appointment.

  Another caller sounded tentative. “I would like to try Restylane on my wrinkles. Does it really help?”

  “Restylane works wonders. It restores volume and fullness to your face. Dr. Cleary is a genius,” Gloria said as if by rote. “Would you like an appointment?”

  “I’m a little nervous. Aren’t there people who really overdo it? I was looking through a celebrity magazine and—”

  “They didn’t come to this office,” Gloria interrupted. “Call us when you’re ready to have the procedure.”

  Gloria answered the phone again and heard, “Hello, my name is Stella Gardner.”

  “How can I help you, Ms. Gardner?”

  “I have a pimple that developed overnight. I can tell it’s only going to get worse. I need to have it treated as soon as possible. Can I make an appointment for today?”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Gardner, but Dr. Cleary is booked for the next three weeks. I can give you an appointment on February second.”

  “I can’t wait that long! I’m on a television show and have to film again on Friday.”

  “What show is that?”

  “Crimes Most Passionate.”

  “Just a minute, please.” Gloria put Stella on hold and turned to Nicole. “Have you heard of Stella Gardner from Crimes Most Passionate?”

  “I love that show!” Nicole said excitedly. “Stella Gardner is so fabulous.”

  Gloria released the hold button on the phone. “Ms. Gardner, we just had a cancellation. What time can you get here?”

  “I could make it by noon.”

  “We’ll be at lunch. How about 1:30?”

  “Perfect!” Stella replied. “Thank you. I was so upset about the earthquake my skin broke out.”

  You should know what my night was like, Gloria thought. “Dr. Cleary will take care of your problem,” she said. “See you later, Ms. Gardner.”

  “Yes, you will!” Stella said enthusiastically.

  She must think her arrival will make my day, Gloria mused as she hung up the phone. Her mind flashed again to the sight of Nicky’s dead body. I just have to remember what it was I saw, she thought, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of urgency. When I get home, I’m going to retrace my every step from the moment I got out of my car yesterday. I’m sure I noticed something unusual. I’ve got to figure out what it was.

  Stella Gardner’s visit won’t make my day, she thought as she fluffed up the ruffles on her blouse. What will really make my day is when I manage to show up those detectives.

  I’ve got to do it.

  36

  See you tonight! Looking forward to it,” Dean gushed as he and Cody were saying their good-byes to Pristavec and Kicky in the exquisite foyer that was more than twice the size of Dean’s apartment.

  “Oh sure,” Pristavec bubbled, slapping Dean on the back for the umpteenth time. “It’ll be fun. You know, I made a lot of money in a lot of businesses. But I never tried showbiz before. I’m super-excited.”

  “Never tried showbiz?” Cody said with a smile. “Have you lived in L.A. for v
ery long?”

  “No,” Thomas said. “I lived in Minnesota most of my life. After I retired, I decided to move someplace warm. Here I am. I’m loving it. Just loving it. It’s the best.” He slapped Cody on the back. Cody slapped him back.

  Dean, feeling compelled, slapped Pristavec. This is like a scene from The Three Stooges, Dean thought.

  “Thanks again,” Cody said, inching out the door.

  “Hey, fellas, why don’t you make the dinner reservation?” Pristavec suggested. “If you do it in person, we might get a better table.” He winked and rubbed his fingers together. “Grease the palm a little, eh?”

  “Sure,” Cody answered. “We’ll do that.”

  They escaped out to the car as fast as possible, without seeming rude. Kicky and Thomas watched, and waved at the car as they drove away.

  Cody waved back until they were out of sight.

  “Cody, why did you have to mention the Beverly Hills Hotel?!” Dean suddenly screamed as they started down the winding road.

  “I thought it would sound good.”

  Dean sighed. “And I can’t believe she’s a hand model! My God!”

  “How many hand models can there be in Los Angeles?” Cody asked. “I’d love to know if she’s met Lois.”

  “I wouldn’t. The last thing we need is anything else about you getting back to Abigail before we can hightail it out of town.”

  “Poor Abigail,” Cody said. “Today’s her birthday. I feel bad. I do miss her…”

  “Please refrain from making any birthday calls,” Dean grunted.

  “You don’t have to worry. I was supposed to pay her back today.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “You knew that, didn’t you?”

  “No. I knew you’d borrowed money, but I had better things to do than to keep track of when your payment was due.”

  They were both silent for a moment. “Hey, Dean,” Cody said, patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t forget! We’re getting fifty thousand dollars from that guy!”

  Dean shrugged. “That’s the first good thing that’s happened today. It feels like the first good thing that’s happened to me in ages.”

  Cody furrowed his brow. “How did you meet Pristavec?”

  “You’re not going to believe it.”

  “Try me.”

  “We met on line for popcorn at the movies.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “No. I was by myself. He was by himself. We started chatting about movies and then he got his popcorn and went in to the theatre. On the way out I saw him again and asked what he thought of the film. We both loved it. I gave him my card and told him about our project. Right away he said he’d like to hear about it and asked if we could meet for lunch the next day. That was it! That was right before you got sprung from the Big House. We had lunch, then he was leaving for Aspen where he met the lovely Kicky. Believe me, I had no idea he had that much dough.”

  “It just goes to show, you never know, do you? You never know what’s going to happen today. Or tomorrow, for that matter.”

  “You should be the poster boy for that sentiment,” Dean said. “You’re in L.A. one day, in the can in Texas the next.”

  “Dean, buddy, you’re hurting my feelings.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible. Anyway, there’s a lesson for us here. If you meet someone at a movie theatre, they must like movies, right? Next time we need money for a film, we’ll scan the crowd at the Cineplex.”

  “What are we going to do about Stella tonight? She’d be upset if she thought we were lying about not having all the money in place. She wanted to go someplace great for dinner.”

  “Not to mention that I implied she was in New York,” Dean added. “It’s your fault we’re going to the Polo Lounge, right in the hotel where she will be.”

  “What’s done is done,” Cody said. “We’ll have to figure out some kind of plan.”

  “I’ll take the Scarlett O’Hara approach and think about it later,” Dean said, then glanced at his watch. “It’s not even 11:00. Our next appointment is at 2:00. What do you want to do? And don’t tell me you want to go back to the hotel. I refuse to take you there.”

  Cody laughed. “Why don’t we go to the movies?”

  “Not a bad idea. I don’t think we’ll happen upon any potential investors, but you’ve got to stay out of sight. There must be a good movie playing in Westwood. Let’s head that way.”

  37

  Kaitlyn was busy all morning, which wasn’t surprising. She had a lot of phone calls to return after a week’s vacation, and many of the residents were stopping by her office. A few of them didn’t care at all about the earthquake, they were angry at her for being away.

  “Katie, you were gone a long time,” a woman named Clara said accusingly. “Why?”

  “I went to visit my parents,” Kaitlyn said. “I was only gone a little over a week.”

  “Yesterday was Monday. Shouldn’t that have been the day you came back?”

  “I had an extra day’s vacation so I used it to get things done I don’t have much time for,” Kaitlyn explained. “I have to go to the doctor sometimes, too.”

  “Oh,” Clara grunted. “Are you healthy?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Good. See you at bingo.”

  At least she seems to have missed me, Kaitlyn thought with a smile. I should feel good about that. And it always pleased her to hear the residents call her Katie. It felt familiar and affectionate. They had taken it upon themselves to address her that way.

  Kaitlyn’s boss asked her to join him in the conference room at lunchtime. They’d have a bite to eat and catch up. Oscar ran a tight ship but was more than pleased with her performance on the job.

  At noon Kaitlyn tapped on the conference-room door.

  “Come in,” Oscar said. A balding man in his mid-forties, with a thin moustache, he’d worked in the health care industry his whole life. When he saw Kaitlyn, he smiled and stood to greet her. “Hello, stranger. I’ve got your turkey sandwich, salsa sauce on the side, right here, with a glass of your favorite iced tea.”

  “Thanks, Oscar,” Kaitlyn said as they both sat down at the long table. “What are you having?” she asked, pointing to his plate.

  “You know me, nothing spicy. A simple cheese sandwich and I’m happy. Good vacation?”

  “Great. But I’m glad to be back. I miss the residents when I’m gone, and, I must say, it warms my heart that they seem to have missed me,” she said as she put a napkin on her lap.

  “They did miss you. Every one of them loves you.”

  Kaitlyn smiled and raised her eyebrows. “I had a little problem with Norman today,” she said as she reached for her sandwich.

  “I know. That’s what I want to talk to you about.”

  “Oh?” Kaitlyn asked, putting the sandwich down on her plate.

  “He’s very upset. He can’t stop talking about his friend who was murdered up in West Hollywood and he can’t stop complaining about your friend Abigail.”

  My friend Abigail? That’s an odd way of referring to her when you think of all she’s done for the residents here, Kaitlyn mused. Better to just let that slide. “It’s such a shame,” Kaitlyn said. “Abigail was always so nice to Norman and then agreed to go to Norman’s friend’s house to cut his hair. Now this.”

  Oscar paused. “Kaitlyn, Norman called the police.”

  “What?” Kaitlyn was aghast.

  “After Norman saw the report about the murder on television, he called the hotline. A detective got back to me a few hours later. He was asking questions about Abigail and, of course, about Norman. I told him that Norman was a man with problems. Kaitlyn, I certainly hope this doesn’t turn into an embarrassing situation for us.”

  “What do you mean? You don’t think Abigail—?”

  “I’m not saying I think anything. I just don’t want our facility to experience even a whisper of a scandal. Not a hint. As you know the elderly in our care are
very vulnerable. It’s our job to look out for every aspect of their welfare. Today I’m meeting with a family who want to place their father in a facility like ours because he’s been ripped off by everyone from the cleaning lady to phony door-to-door salesmen. If they heard anything about a possible problem with someone who came here to cut hair, they’d never walk through the door.”

  Kaitlyn shook her head. “Oscar, you know Norman isn’t well. Making unreasonable accusations is a symptom of his condition. For anyone to take seriously what he’s saying about Abigail is very unfair.”

  “I understand. But, Kaitlyn, my job is to maintain the wonderful reputation of Orange Grove.”

  Kaitlyn’s eyes flashed. “And what about the reputation of ‘my friend Abigail’? Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  “Of course it does. But to be quite frank, the reputation of Orange Grove Assisted Living Facility means more.”

  38

  Every morning Walter got up with the sun, walked to the grocery store on the corner, and bought a large cup of strong hot coffee. Then he’d stroll to the little park near his house, sit on a bench facing the street, and watch the world go by. At that hour of the morning the world consisted mostly of people walking their dogs—big dogs, small dogs, four dogs being walked at once. Walter got a kick out of watching the animals as they caught sight of one another. It was as if they’d been struck by lightning. Some started barking, others whimpered, as they desperately strained their leashes to get closer to their fellow canines.

  What Walter really loved was seeing the interaction of dog owners who couldn’t be more different. Like the recent brief exchange between a tough guy who was out walking his boxer and an elderly woman on a stroll with her toy poodle. He was wearing a denim vest and a bandana around his head. Tattoos covered his arms, tiny silver chains hung from his nose, mouth, and lips. She was wearing a flowered housecoat and slippers. From half a block away the poodle had yapped relentlessly until the dogs finally met.