Quinn walked to the balcony and opened the cage door. “Over here. Looks like they clipped the wires on the outside wall and just walked right in.”
Ruby squawked from her perch just as the doorbell rang. “Gadzooks!”
Quinn shot her a puzzled frown, then let Cromwell and a tall man with a crew cut into the room. The fellow wore a security insignia on his black blazer and a dark expression on his face.
“Mr. and Mrs. Hollister? May I introduce Mr. O’Connor? He’s with our security division.”
The next hour was spent answering questions and learning very little. I discovered that our room was the only one hit, and it made me wonder why we’d been the target. Was it chance? Or was there something special they wanted from us? Of all the moneyed guests who had checked in, we looked the least wealthy of the bunch. As a matter of fact, we looked downright underprivileged compared to most of them.
“Why us?” I didn’t really expect an answer. Quinn sat beside me and held my hand, patting it occasionally.
O’Connor rubbed his fingers on his mouth and frowned. “Hard to say why they pick who they do. Might have been a random hit. They knew exhibitors were in the show, checked the schedule, which is publicly available on the Internet, and randomly chose your room number. They may have stolen the key from the front desk, if they were very clever.” He shot Cromwell a glance, implying that someone on his staff might have been involved.
Cromwell bristled. “Not one of our employees.”
O’Connor shrugged. “We’ll soon find out.”
“Are we done?” I asked.
O’Connor answered reluctantly. “For now.”
My stomach growled so loud that all three men turned to stare.
Quinn politely ushered Cromwell and O’Connor to the door. “Thanks, gentlemen. Let us know if there’s any news, okay? But right now we’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do.”
They shook his hand and left.
I stood up. “I don’t know how appropriate it is to want to eat at a time like this, but I’m starving, Quinn.”
“A time like this?” he laughed. “Anytime is a good time to eat, in my book.” He picked up the phone again. “I’m ordering room service.”
I walked over and circled my arms around his waist from behind, laying my head against his back. “Good. Get me a hot pastrami on rye with a dill pickle.”
Quinn nodded, asked for two of the same, and added two pieces of apple pie to the order.
***
After we cleaned up the mess and devoured our New York City-style deli sandwiches, I called the hospital. My mother answered, sounding groggy.
“Hello?”
“Thelma. It’s me. How are you doing?” I shifted the receiver to my other ear and twirled my hair with my forefinger.
“Not great, honey. I’ve got a hairline fracture.”
I sat up straighter. “Oh my God. I don’t believe it.” Thoughts whizzed through my head. How bad is it? How long will she have to stay in the hospital? Can they transport her to Rochester?
“Me, neither, honey. The doc said I have to stay here for a few more days, then I have to take it really easy. No driving. No walking alone.”
“I’m so sorry. Quinn and I will come up to see you in a little while. You up for visitors?”
“I’m so bored I could die. Please come up. But I don’t think you can bring Ruby with you.”
I chuckled. “I know. But I’ll bet she wishes she could see you.”
“Huh?”
“She probably misses you. She’s been spouting all kinds of phrases that sound just like you.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. She’s saying, ‘gadzooks,’ ‘get my peepers,’ and ‘don’t flip your wig.’ She sounds just like you.”
I waited for her reply, but she was silent.
“Thelma?”
“Uh. Yeah. I’m here. It’s just weird, that’s all.”
“I know. She keeps cracking us up.”
“That’s not the weirdest part, honey.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“I mean I just told the doctor that ‘he’s da man’.”
I snorted a laugh. “What?”
“That’s right. Figure that one out.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Another moment of silence. I felt like I was in church. “Right?”
“No. I’m not kidding. It keeps popping out of my mouth. And I told the nurse, ‘gimme cookies,’ last night.”
This time it was my turn to fall silent.
“Marcella?”
I shook myself out of the state of confusion.
“Yeah. I’m here. I’m just trying to make sense out of it.”
My mother sounded exasperated. “Don’t you get it? It was the accident.”
“The accident?” I was starting to sound like a bird myself, repeating everything.
“Wake up there, honey. The pool. Where we both almost died.”
“Oh, right. Of course.”
She spoke to me slowly, as if I was the one with the fractured skull. “We both got shot through with that electric jolt.”
The truth settled over me like a silk shawl suddenly dropped from the sky.
“Oh my God. The electricity. You and Ruby shared it.” I tapped my fingernail on the receiver. “I think you’re right. You must be.”
“What else could it be?”
Quinn had migrated to my side. He sat on the chair beside me and raised an eyebrow. He mouthed the word, “What?”
I covered the mouthpiece. “Just a sec. I’ll tell you all about it. Almost done.”
He nodded and wandered to Ruby’s cage.
“Thelma? We’re on our way up. I just have to get directions.”
“Don’t use Road-Mapper, honey.”
I laughed. “Don’t worry. I won’t. I’ll get Cromwell or Ardy to draw me a map.”
I heard a muffled sound in the background, as if someone had come into Thelma’s room.
“Honey? Gotta go. The nurse is here again.”
“Okay. See you soon.”
Quinn was at my side in an instant, his eyes full of questions.
“Well? What’s going on?”
I grabbed my purse and the van keys. “I’ll tell you on the way. Come on, we’re going to the hospital.”
Chapter 11
The ride to the rural hospital was mercifully short and straightforward. Cromwell had given me verbal instructions that seemed ridiculously easy, but I’d simply taken a right out of the hotel and continued for two miles on the road until the hospital appeared on the hilltop on our right.
We’d found my mother’s semi-private room on the third floor with no problem. After checking in with the nurse’s desk, we stepped inside.
“Marcella! Quinn!”
My heart almost broke when I saw my mother attached to machines and drip bags through wires and tubes. I ran to her side and hugged her.
“I’m so glad you came.” She hugged me for a long time. Her voice sounded weak, without the usual acerbic tone. “I hate it here.”
I kissed her cheek and patted her hand. “I’m so sorry. But you’ll be home soon.”
Quinn added his two cents worth. “Rotten break, Thelma.”
The elderly lady in the neighboring bed spluttered something and stretched out her arm for her water container. She couldn’t reach it.
I moved the pitcher closer so she could reach the straw. “Sorry,” I said. “I hope we’re not disturbing you.”
She didn’t respond, but took a sip and smiled toward the window.
“Okay, then. I’ll just close this so we won’t bother you.” I slowly slid the curtain around Thelma’s bed to give us some privacy. Quinn dragged two chairs inside, and we settled beside her.
She frowned. “They don’t have buttermilk here, Marcella. Or granola. I can’t make it without my granola. You know I’m not regular if I don’t get my granola.”
I adjusted my mother’s covers and clucked
at her. “I’m so sorry. But Quinn has some news that might cheer you up. Don’t you, honey?” I prodded him with a glance.
“Er. Yes. I do.” He took out his pocket bottle of germ killer and liberally applied it to his palms, rubbing it in slow circles. “Ruby won her class. She’s now the Best New Color in the country.”
My mother brightened and sat up a little. “Oh, my. She won a blue ribbon?”
“Uh huh. And you should have seen the competition.” Quinn offered me a squirt from the bottle, which I declined with a slight shake of my head. “He was gorgeous, Thelma. And Ruby thought so, too. I think she fell in love with him.”
I scooted my chair closer. “Her new boyfriend is a beautiful purple. Kind of purplish blue.”
Quinn was careful not to touch anything after sanitizing his hands. He laid them in his lap, and I was sure he breathed as shallow as possible to avoid inhaling too many germs. “Maybe Mr. Ramirez would let us breed them together and see what colors we get?”
I feigned interest, but didn’t want to get him too excited about it. “Maybe.” I hoped he didn’t want to get into this whole breeding thing too seriously. As it was, we had to hire a bird sitter for Ruby’s mother, Sarafina. The lady next door who usually kept an eye on the house had offered to feed her, but I could see how the show circuit would wreak havoc on our home life, and our antique shop. Closing it for a few days had been difficult. Matter of fact, we hadn’t closed it for more than a few days since I’d moved up from Manhattan to marry Quinn seven years earlier.
After waitressing full time, taking private weekly singing lessons from an opera diva for five years, and auditioning for the Met so many times that the receptionists all knew me by name, I’d begun to question my calling. I’d been about ready to give up on it anyway, when Quinn had proposed.
“Marcella? I asked you a question.”
My mother sounded worried. I shook myself from the reverie and smiled. “Sorry. What did you say?”
“I asked if you were going to stay in the hotel.”
“Of course we are. We can’t go home without you.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, of course, I’ll pay for your hotel and food. But I wasn’t sure if you could keep the shop closed for this long. I thought maybe you’d go home, then come back to get me when they let me out of this prison.”
“Thanks, that’s very generous of you. But don’t worry. We’re here for you, and everything at home will keep just fine until you’re ready. Besides, Quinn and I could use a few more days off.” I squeezed his shoulder. His beautiful eyes returned the smile, but he suddenly stood as if the chair had bitten him. I’d wondered how long it would take him before he got the jitters.
“How about a snack? Want me to get you something from the cafeteria, ladies?”
I knew it would bother him to buy something from a cafeteria that was so close to millions of hospital germs. But it would also be good for him to move around a bit. And if he didn’t actually eat anything from said germ cesspool, he might survive. “Sounds good, honey. I could go for a nice cup of peppermint tea if they have it.” I turned to my mother. “How ‘bout you?”
“Okay. A chocolate shake, please.”
Her answer came so quickly I knew she’d been craving it. Along with the buttermilk and granola.
Quinn stood and stretched. “Back in a jiffy.”
I watched him leave, lingering on his last steps. I loved the way his glossy black hair shifted on his shoulders as he walked. I especially loved it when he used quirky words like “jiffy.” I chuckled and turned back to minister to my mother.
“So. Did you see your program?” Her favorite soap opera centered the middle of her afternoon. “What’s the scoop? Anything good happen?”
My mother’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yes. You wouldn’t believe what Thad said to Clarissa just before his lover walked into the room.”
A feeble voice piped up behind the curtain, with a slight lisp. “And his lover was a man! My heavens, I’d never seen anything like it. On television, no less.”
I pulled the curtain back. Thelma’s neighbor seemed alert now. Her rheumy eyes sparkled and her veined hands flew when she spoke. “I can’t wait for tomorrow’s episode!”
“Marcella, meet Hildegarde. Hildegarde, this is my daughter, Marcella.”
I walked around my mother’s bed and extended my hand to the woman. She squeezed my fingers weakly and smiled a toothless smile. I noticed her dentures in a cup on the table. “Pleased to meet you.” She turned to my mother again. “Do you think Clarissa really likes Thad? Doesn’t she know about his…special interests?”
My mother rose to the occasion. The two women chatted like magpies while I sat back and listened until Quinn returned and broke it up with Thelma’s chocolate shake and my tea.
He squirted antibacterial gel on his hands three more times during the next hour. I knew he was in bacteria hell, and after assuaging my guilt about leaving my mother alone in the emergency room the night before, we finally said our goodbyes and returned to the hotel.
Chapter 12
On the way back to the hotel, Quinn popped a CD in the player. My own voice rang out in youthful pain, singing, “O mio babbino caro,” one of Puccini’s most poignant and beautiful arias.
I cringed. “Oh, Quinn. Why’d you put that on? I sound awful.” I hadn’t been good enough. I hadn’t made it.
“Shush. You’re so damned hard on yourself. Now let me listen. Your voice sends me to the moon and back.”
Even though I knew he held no musical expertise and would have loved my singing if I hadn’t had any training, I was secretly pleased he still listened to my recordings. A wistful mood dropped over me. I tossed a shy look toward him. “Think I would have made it, if I’d stuck it out?”
He didn’t hesitate, not one millisecond. “I do. And I’ll always be sorry I kept you from a career singing at the Met.”
“You always say that. But I was already thirty-five. My voice was ready. I was ready.” I heaved a long sigh. “The world just wasn’t ready for me, I guess.”
“The world was blind and deaf.” He turned into the hotel driveway. “Think you’d ever want to try again?”
I knew he meant what he said, but I also sensed a lingering hint of fear. He’d always been afraid I’d want to go back to my “glamorous” life, in the city. Afraid I’d ditch him.
“Maybe. Someday.”
“I’d support you, you know that. We could get a little place in Queens, or something like that. Open a shop downtown. And while we’re selling antiques to the rich city folk, you could start up your lessons again.”
A surge of warmth filled my heart. “You have no idea how that makes me feel. Thank you.” I dabbed at the puddles forming in my eyes. “But you know what?”
He parked and turned to look at me. “What?”
“I’m happy with life just the way it is right now.”
He turned off the ignition and leaned in to kiss me. “Good. Me, too.”
We headed toward the lobby. I was about to step out from a line of parked cars, when a white truck sped toward us. I watched the truck bear down on me, unable to move a muscle.
“Watch out!” Quinn grabbed my arms and dragged me out of harm’s way.
The truck zoomed past with tires squealing. The scent of exhaust filled the air, and I felt like I was going to throw up.
Quinn pulled me toward him. “Whoa. Are you okay? Those jerks.”
My breath hitched in my throat. “God. They almost hit me!”
“No kidding.” His eyes grew angry. He watched the truck peel out onto the highway and head north.
“Were they aiming for me?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t think they could have seen you between those two vans before you stepped out. Unless they were watching us the whole time.”
“I’m going to ask Cromwell if he knows them,” I said. “They’re a danger to society.” My legs buckled and I grabbed Quinn’s arm. “Sorry. Delayed reaction, I guess.”<
br />
He steadied me, his eyes boring into mine. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I shook it off and regained my balance. “I’ll be fine.” I linked my arm through his, just to be sure. “Come on. Let’s get inside. I feel the urge for an Amaretto on ice coming on.” I leaned against him. “Or maybe champagne. Think they’ll serve it at the Bird Lovers Ball?”
“Sure they will. How could a joint like this not serve champagne?”
We reached our room without bumping into Cromwell. When we entered, the red message light blinked on the phone. I checked it to find a distressing message from Nina, our neighbor.
“Marcella? It’s me, Nina. Call me as soon as you get in. It’s important.”
I punched in her number and pictured the thousand and one things that could have gone wrong, from our house burning down to Ruby’s mother, Sarafina, escaping from her cage and flying over Honeoye Lake in blissful liberation. Nina picked up on the second ring.
“Nina? It’s Marcella. What’s wrong?”
“Oh, good. I hated to call you on your vacation, but you need to know.”
“Know what?”
“Someone broke into your house last night. Knocked everything over and tore it apart. I’m so sorry; I didn’t hear a peep. You know I take out my hearing aids at night.”
My heart felt like sludge and I sank to the chair. My paintings. My jewelry. My silver. “Oh, no.”
Quinn rushed to my side and took the phone from my limp fingers. “Nina? It’s Quinn. What’s up?”
I watched while he got the story from Nina, and finally felt my brain get back on track. “Let me talk to her.”
He handed me the phone.
“Nina? I’m back. Sorry. You just took me by surprise.”
“It’s okay, dearie. I understand. Finding your place in such a mess got my heart hammering, too.”
I managed a wry smile, picturing my poor elderly neighbor opening the door to such a scene. “I’ll bet. Are you okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine. Locking up tight every night, though. I don’t want them to come to my house. And Rufus is sleeping on my bed now. I need a guardian, and he’s a tough dog. Even if he is just a poodle.”
Tall Pines Mysteries: A Mystery/Suspense Boxed Set Page 6
