“How did you get those hickeys on your neck and chest? Did Soozie do that?”
“Yes. It’s almost a ritual with her. She said she wanted to mark me, so my wife would know I’d been unfaithful.”
“And you didn’t try to stop her?”
“As I told you, I’d let Soozie do anything she wanted to do to me. And I would do anything she wanted me to do to her. Anything at all.”
Schwartz stroked his chin thoughtfully. “There are certain narcotic substances used by witch doctors in the West Indies to turn human beings into zombies. Not dead people restored to life—that’s utter nonsense, of course. It’s been documented that the concoction does put its victims into a somnambulate condition—that is, a state of trancelike animation—and forces them to obey the commands of the person in control. Because the formulas are kept a dark secret, medical doctors have never been able to evaluate the drugs involved. What you’ve described to me is a classic example of the reported symptoms of so-called zombies. Soozie isn’t from the islands, is she? A voodoo priestess, perhaps?”
“No. She’s from New York, originally.”
“Well, that’s almost the same thing,” Schwartz laughed. “Michael, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and reserve judgment on your condition until we get the results of your blood and urine specimens back from the lab. You can tell Mrs. Kaplan—Kimberly, I mean—that she can come back in now.”
Michael opened the office door and Kimberly, who had been pacing the floor outside, rushed into the room. “Did you find out what’s wrong with Michael?” she asked anxiously.
“Sit down, Kimberly,” Schwartz told her. “Relax. All of Michael’s vital signs are normal. He’s in perfect health physically.
“However, I need to ask you a few questions. First of all, when did you notice he was acting peculiarly?
“Each time he’s been with Soozie. Michael hasn’t tried to hide anything from me. We’re close friends, Dr. Schwartz. Very close.”
“Do you know Soozie?”
“I’ve met her only once. I warned Michael to stay away from her.”
Schwartz turned to Michael. “It sounds like Kimberly gave you good advice. Why did you keep going back to see Soozie?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t want to, but I can’t seem to stay away from her. I feel like a puppet on a string or a dog on a leash. When she says ‘come,’ I go to her. I have to move into her apartment tomorrow. That’s what she told me to do.”
“How do you feel about that, Kimberly?” Schwartz asked.
Kimberly’s face showed rage. “I hate it. I hate her. I know it’s a terrible thing to say, but I wish she’d drop dead.”
“Be honest with me,” Schwartz implored. “You’re in love with Michael, aren’t you, Kimberly?”
“Yes, I am. That’s no secret. Michael knows it. I tell him so every day. Even his wife knows I love him.”
Michael raised an eyebrow. “How does Myra know that?”
“I’ll explain later, Michael,” Kimberly deferred.
Schwartz made a notation on the form attached to the clipboard, then turned to Michael. “Originally, I thought I’d send you home with a mild sedative to help you get some rest tonight. However, I’ve changed my mind. If it turns out you do have drugs in your system, I don’t know how a sedative might interact with them. I’m going to check you into the hospital tonight for observation, so we can keep an eye on your condition. Then, tomorrow morning, when the test results come back from the lab, we’ll talk again.”
“Can I stay with Michael for a while?” Kimberly asked. “Please, we have some very important matters to discuss.” She was very upset at the doctor’s decision to admit Michael to the hospital, and now she wished she’d waited until morning to bring him in for an examination. Kimberly’s plans for the night were ruined.
Schwartz checked his watch. “It’s after visiting hours, but you can stay for half an hour or so. I’ll tell the nurse on duty it’s okay.”
The doctor called for an orderly, who insisted Michael sit in a wheelchair while he pushed him to the elevator, and then to a room on the fourth floor. Kimberly trailed along behind.
“YOU LOOK SO SILLLY in that hospital gown,” Kimberly teased. “If I’d known they were going to keep you here overnight I’d have suggested you pack your pajamas.”
“I’ll survive. I would appreciate it if you’ll bring me some clean clothes in the morning. A toothbrush and my razor, too, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“You know I’ll do anything you ask of me, Michael.” She leaned over and kissed him sensually, and was pleased that he held her tightly and participated actively in the kiss.
“Kimberly, I need to know what happened with Myra today. Please, don’t keep me in suspense any longer.”
“We went to lunch at the Gold Crest.”
“I don’t care where or what you ate. I want to know what you talked about,” Michael said irritably.
“I warned Myra that Soozie has the hots for you. I didn’t mention you and Soozie have already done the nasty, though. That’s up to you to tell her, if and when you ever want to.”
“That’s all you talked about? Soozie?”
“Okay. I’ll give it to you straight. I told Myra I’m in love with you,” Kimberly said matter-of-factly.
“What! You didn’t!” Michael agonized.
“Yes, I did. I told her so in no uncertain terms.”
“Ohmygod! Now my marriage is over for sure,” he wailed.
“Not unless you want it to be, Michael,” Kimberly consoled him, then went on to explain. “Myra was very understanding—even relieved to hear me admit it, I imagine. She said she’s suspected for a long time that I’m in love with you, and has been worried and afraid she would lose you to me because we spend so much time together. Now that she knows I’m in love with you, the agony of uncertainty is over. In a way, I set her mind at rest. You’ll be glad to know I also made it clear to Myra we’ve never been to bed together. Not yet, anyway.”
“You didn’t tell her about last night, then?” he asked.
Amusement flickered in Kimberly’s turquoise eyes. “Michael, we didn’t sleep together last night. I guess you had too many margaritas and stumbled into the wrong bedroom. I helped you get into my bed, then I slept in the guest room.”
“Whew. That’s a relief,” Michael sighed. “This morning you had me believing we’d had sex last night, and I was worried sick because I didn’t remember a thing.”
“You were really out of it. But as much as I want us to make love, I would never take advantage of you while you were too drunk to know what you were doing.”
Kimberly was not being totally honest with Michael. Even though she would not force herself on him when he was intoxicated—she knew if she did, he would have feelings of guilt and remorse and anger when he sobered up—Kimberly had every intention of controlling him the way Soozie had been doing. She just had to figure out Soozie’s methods, and Kimberly believed she was well on the way to learning the secret. Only a few hours earlier, Kimberly told Michael she wanted him to make love to her, the same way he had made love to Soozie, and he readily agreed to do so. Apparently, the effects of whatever Soozie had slipped into Michael’s coffee were long-lasting, for he was still responsive to all suggestions, regardless of who made them. Kimberly would just have to keep Michael away from Soozie. And from Myra, too.
They would not be able to make love tonight, because Michael was in the hospital, but tomorrow was another day. Even if the drugs were worn off by then, Michael had confessed his desire to go to bed with her. The only thing holding him back was his marriage to Myra.
“Best of all, Myra and I are good friends again. She even hugged and kissed me when we left the restaurant. She wants you back, Michael. I think the next time you talk with Myra she’s going to ask you to move back into the condo.”
“How can I do that now? She’ll see the hickeys all over my body and know for certain I’ve had sex
with someone else.”
“Let’s not worry about that tonight, Michael. Let’s wait and find out what the lab tests reveal tomorrow.”
Michael looked confused. “Tomorrow. Don’t I have to move in with Soozie tomorrow?”
“Absolutely not. I forbid you to even mention that subject again, Michael,” Kimberly said sternly. “Under no circumstances are you to telephone Soozie—or Myra—unless I’m with you.”
“Yes, Kimberly, I understand. I’m supposed to have coffee with Mark Caruso tomorrow morning, though. Is that okay with you?”
Kimberly’s jaw dropped open. Had Michael lost all will of his own? Did Soozie destroy his independence permanently? Michael was becoming like putty in her hands.
“I don’t think you’ll be out of the hospital in time to have coffee with Mark. I’ll call him first thing in the morning and tell him you won’t be able to make it. I’ll also tell Geller we’ll be taking the day off. As soon as you get released from the hospital I’m going to take you home. We’ll go to bed and make love all day long tomorrow, Michael.”
Michael looked up at Kimberly with a crooked smile. “Whatever you say, Kimberly.”
Thirty-Six
WHEN KIMBERLY ARRIVED at her house it felt empty. Michael had been staying with her for only a little more than a week and not once had they shared the same bed. Nevertheless, it was comforting to know Michael was sleeping in the next room at night, to hear him move about in the morning, shaving, showering, getting dressed. Each day when Kimberly awakened, she eagerly looked forward to sitting across the table from him at breakfast. Michael had magically transformed her barren house into a warm, pleasurable home.
Kimberly showered, slipped into an old pair of pajamas—no need tonight to wear one of her sexy nighties—and crawled into bed. She reached to her night stand, picked up the remote, and turned on the television. She flipped from one station to another, but everything seemed terribly boring, even movies on the premium cable channels. After ten minutes of channel hopping Kimberly turned the TV off and doused the bedroom lights.
Now, the house seemed doubly desolate. Somewhere in another room, a cricket began chirping its mating call. A breeze whistled through a slightly opened window, rustling the draperies. Kimberly felt alone, terribly alone.
Her body was as tight as a foot in a shoe three sizes too small. Kimberly could not remember the last time she’d had an orgasm, it had been that long ago. Michael living in her house only heightened her sexual tension. The rubber band had been stretched so far it was ready to snap.
Why wouldn’t Michael make love with her? What could he possibly gain by holding back? Nothing. Nothing at all. Making love would bring them both much pleasure—of that, Kimberly was quite certain—and needn’t affect Michael’s relationship with Myra at all.
Like a wasted hour, lovemaking cannot be banked and saved for another day, Kimberly mused. Love is a renewable resource. Why do people hoard and ration and dole out niggardly that which costs them nothing and provides a thousandfold return? Whether or not Michael makes love with me today, the amount of love he can make with Myra at some future date will neither decrease nor increase. At the moment, all three of us are doing without, needlessly. But that will change. Very soon.
Kimberly closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but Michael and Myra kept slipping into her thoughts. Her fantasies expanded once she openly accepted her searing need for both Michael and Myra. Her hands involuntarily entered her pajamas; one found its way to her breasts, the other slid between her legs and penetrated her moist flesh.
Kimberly knew that Myra must be lonely tonight, also, and felt a twinge of sympathy for her. Myra had not been with Michael since he moved out of the condo. She had not even seen her husband, except for that one brief confrontation in the restaurant. Kimberly was tempted to phone Myra, just to thrill to her sultry voice, just to talk girl talk. Perhaps to set the stage for a rendezvous that might, under felicitous circumstances, develop into a lovers’ tryst.
But it was both too late and too soon. It was too late because Myra would probably be asleep by now, and it was too soon after Kimberly’s admission that she was in love with Michael.
Kimberly now knew what her strategy must be. She would choreograph it with careful attention to every detail. First of all, she must get Michael to make love to her. And that would happen tomorrow; it was a foregone conclusion. Then, she would allow Michael to return to Myra and resume their life as husband and wife. Once the three of them were constant companions again, as they were before—except that Michael would be her secret lover—she would be in a position, ever so subtly, ever so discreetly, to awaken Myra’s dormant sexual appetite, the homoeroticism Kimberly had convinced herself the two women shared. And finally, in a fairy-tale ending, she would reveal their mutual love, and the three would live together happily, forever and ever.
As Kimberly envisioned making love with Michael, then Myra, and finally with both of them simultaneously, her fingers moved faster and heat rippled under her skin. She moaned loudly when a shiver of ecstasy brought release, but there was no one to hear her.
The telephone rang insistently and Kimberly groped in the dark for the instrument. She had no idea what time it was or how long she had been asleep and almost decided to ignore the blaring intrusion and let her voice mailbox take a message, but the thought someone could be calling from the hospital because something had happened to Michael jarred her into an unsteady consciousness.
“Hello,” she answered sleepily.
“Kim, this is Myra,” the voice on the other end of the line was tense. “I’m sorry to bother you so late, but I have to talk to Michael. It’s very important.”
Kimberly turned on the lamp and sat up in bed. She looked at the clock on her night stand. It was after two. “Myra, Michael isn’t here. He’s on some kind of special assignment for the Times,” she fibbed. Kimberly did not want Myra to know Michael was in the hospital. She would ask too many questions, questions Kimberly did not care to answer. “I don’t have any idea when he’ll be in—maybe not until tomorrow morning.”
Myra wasn’t sure whether to believe Kimberly or not. “Please, Kim, I really do need to reach him. He isn’t with that bitch Soozie, is he?”
“No, he’s not. I’m absolutely certain of that. What’s wrong?” Kimberly sensed desperation in Myra’s voice.
“My mother just phoned. Dad’s had a heart attack.”
“Ohmygod, I’m so sorry,” Kimberly sympathized sincerely. She’d always been fond of Myra’s father, and remembered the many times he drove the two girls to the movies or joined them bowling or accompanied them to a park with the family’s Irish setter, to throw Frisbees. “Is he going to be all right?”
“Yes, I think so. The doctors said he had a mild attack, and, fortunately, the paramedics got him to the hospital in plenty of time.”
“You shouldn’t be home by yourself tonight, Myra. I’ll get dressed and come over to stay with you.”
“I really appreciate your concern, but I’m going to have to leave for Los Angeles as soon as I can get packed. My mother’s practically hysterical and she needs me to be with her. There aren’t any more flights leaving tonight, so I’m going to drive. Besides, I’ll need a car to get around while I’m in L.A., since neither of my parents drive anymore.”
“Would you like me to go with you?” Kimberly asked solicitously. “I can be ready in less than half an hour.”
“No, but thanks for offering. There is something you can do for me, though. When Michael gets in, tell him what happened. He can reach me at my parents’ house in the morning.”
“Of course. I’ll do that the minute I see him.”
“One more thing, Kimberly. Please let Michael know I love him and I’m sorry I didn’t trust him. I was wrong to let my jealousy get the best of me. If Michael forgives me and still loves me, I want him to come home.”
“He loves you, Myra. I know he does. I’m sure he wants to be with you. I’ll definite
ly tell him what you said. If there’s anything else I can do, give me a call. Any time, day or night.”
“I will. While I’m away, please keep an eye on Michael. Don’t let him get involved with that Soozie woman.”
“Don’t worry, Myra. I’ll do everything you would do for Michael if you were here.” And probably a lot more, Kimberly thought.
“I’m so glad we patched things up today. I can’t fault you for feeling the way you do about Michael. He’s a very special, very lovable guy. Just don’t ever forget he’s married to me.”
“I think about that all the time,” Kimberly said. Myra should only know how much that weighs on my mind, Kimberly thought. “Drive carefully, and give your parents my love.”
Blue Goodness (Michael Kaplan Mysteries) Page 31
