A Taste of Death (Maggie Olenski Series)

by Hughes, Mary Ellen

  Maggie said nothing, and Leslie continued.

  "I knew about his affair with Elizabeth, you know. But I also knew about the affairs before that." She reached for her water glass and took a swallow, looking up after a moment with a bright smile. "But I asked about you, and here I am talkin' about me. Just ignore me and go on."

  Mmm. "Let's see. What else. Oh, I managed to get through college, and have been teaching high school math ever since and loving it."

  Leslie looked at Maggie. "You must be really smart."

  Maggie laughed, shaking her head, and popped a marinated mushroom in her mouth.

  "You are," Leslie insisted. "Smart women don't mess up their lives like I have."

  "I guess it helps to have someone watching out for you," Maggie said, softly.

  "Uh-huh."

  The phone rang, and Leslie stood up to answer it.

  "Oh, Dan, hi," she said, and wandered a few steps into the kitchen, receiver to her ear. Maggie played the part of the good guest, absorbed in her food and pretending not to hear a word of a conversation that had nothing to do with her. But in fact there was little to hear. Dan, it seemed, did most of the talking. Leslie finally did murmur a few words at the end, but her back was to Maggie, who could decipher none of it.

  Leslie ended the call and returned to her chair.

  "Dan's so sweet," she said as she took her plate back onto her lap. "He offered to come over with some of his fabulous wild mushroom soup. He knows how I love it. But I told him we still had enough leftovers to feed an army."

  "Maybe he should take the soup over to Karin."

  "Hmm? Oh. Yes. Perhaps he will." Leslie looked doubtful. Whether it was over the possibility of Dan's taking something to Karin, or over how she, Leslie, would feel if Dan took something to Karin, Maggie couldn't tell.

  Maggie felt a surge of protectiveness for this so-alone woman across from her. A well-spring of sisterly, motherly, grandmotherly advice, the kind Leslie may never actually have been given, bubbled up. "Leslie, do you know anything about Dan, other than that he's a restaurant owner?"

  "Dan? Well, no, I guess not. I do know he's a widower." Leslie offered that extra bit of information proudly, as though to prove she wasn't totally in the dark.

  "Did you know him when he was in Atlantic City? I think you said something about Jack having a hotel there."

  "No. I never met Dan until we came here. Why?"

  Maggie hesitated. "It's just, well, it's probably not a good idea, right now, for you to jump into anything. I mean, you've had it pretty rough, emotionally, for a while, and maybe you need to take some time out. Just to get your head straight. Don't you think?"

  Leslie stared at Maggie, who waited, not sure what kind of reaction was coming.

  "Was I getting into something?" Leslie asked.

  "It looked like you might be"

  Leslie stared some more, and Maggie could almost see the wheels and cogs of her mind working. They might have been a little rusty, but they still worked. "I think you're right. I didn't realize it, but it was awfully nice to have a man, an attractive man, care about me."

  "There's nothing wrong with that. I'm just suggesting you hold off a bit. Don't get into something until you're sure it's what you really want. No need to rush into things."

  "No, you're right, there isn't. You know, I do have to fly back to New York. Jack's business partners have put together a memorial service now that his body has been finally released for cremation. I'll have to go and play the grieving widow. Jack's lawyers wanted me to stay around some, to talk about all the financial stuff. I was hoping to put that part off - the thought of staying at our apartment there for too long just, just... well, even with Mrs. Hanson there with me, it would seem awful cold and depressing.

  "It was startin' to feel a bit nicer here, especially with the party last night. Well, most of it. So I didn't want to stay in New York. But I suppose the better thing to do right now, the grown-up thing to do, would be to get things settled, and maybe take time to get my head straight, like you said."

  Leslie looked at Maggie, as if for approval, and Maggie smiled.

  "I think that's a good idea. You can always come back, you know."

  "Yes, I can. And I could always close up that apartment in New York and move somewhere else too. Somewhere warm. I'm a southern girl, you know. I've never gotten used to these cold winters. Maybe I could even get back into modeling. But I don't need the money. I'd only take the jobs I really wanted."

  It sounded to Maggie like Leslie was beginning to realize she could take charge of her own life and not simply depend on someone to take care of her. That was good. Just a beginning, but still good.

  Something Maggie's mother used to say popped into her head: Long journeys began with small steps. She glanced at Leslie's shoes - high heeled, open-toed slides, quite a bit on the flimsy side. Maggie hoped they were up to the trip.

  <><><>

  Maggie left Leslie's house with a full stomach and slightly easier mind, as well as a couple of plastic containers of party leftovers Leslie insisted she take. She doubted she had learned anything that would help her solve Jack and Alexander's murders. But she had at least firmly crossed off one name from her list of possible suspects. Leslie's name had been mostly erased anyway. But the clincher for Maggie had been when she asked Leslie straight out who she thought had poisoned her husband.

  Leslie had looked at Maggie with steady eyes. "I don't know, Maggie. But I'm sure as can be it wasn't Elizabeth, and I told the sheriff so. That may be making him look at me a lot closer, but I don't care. As long as he stops worryin' that poor girl"

  Maggie put her car in gear and pulled away from the Warwick home for the second night in a row. Tonight hers had been the only car parked in front, and traffic was nearly non-existent. As she made the U-turn to head back home her headlights swung over a dark figure standing across the street against some trees.

  A late-night jogger pausing to catch his breath? Someone walking her dog? Except the sidewalks were pretty icy for jogging, and Maggie saw no leash or dog. She mulled this over, feeling uneasy until she pulled into the cabin's driveway. Once again the cabin's windows looked down on her ominously through the dark. Maggie shivered, and regretted for a moment having let Dyna go off.

  She pulled into the garage and climbed out of the car, locked the garage door, and hurried across the few feet to the cabin's steps. She was glad she had thought to leave a single lamp lit so that at least she wouldn't be stepping into a totally dark house.

  Maggie shut the cabin's door firmly and shot the dead bolt, feeling instantly better. As she turned around, though, movement at the edge of the stairs caught her eye, and she caught her breath.

  Ali meowed, and marched up to her, seemingly as happy to see her as she was to realize it was him. When her heart beat returned to normal, Maggie reached down and swept the large cat up in her arms, nuzzling her face into his fur.

  "Feeling lonely, boy? So am I. How about we stick together the rest of the night?"

  Ali purred.

  CHAPTER 20

  Maggie woke slowly the next morning, disturbing dreams lingering in her consciousness. Dreams that sprang from nightmarish memories. It was summer. She had been tied up and left alone in a dark, strange place, frantic to escape before a faceless killer returned.

  Maggie tried to stir and found that, as on that summer night, she could not move. The realization jolted her fully awake, only to recognize that as well as being immobile she was not alone. Heavy breathing sounded in her ear.

  Maggie's heart stopped. Then the fishy smell of cat food wafted to her. She lifted her head, wrinkling her nose. Ali lay beside her, having taken her up on last night's impulsive offer of togetherness, and made himself at home on the bed, weighing the covers down tightly next to her with his bulk. With the other edge of the sheets was tucked firmly under the mattress, Maggie was effectively pinned down. At first relief flooded her as her heart resumed its regular beat. Then grumpy
annoyance moved in as she struggled to get loose. Her flailings failed to dislodge the immovable cat who had apparently staked a claim on that portion of her bed.

  "Don't let me disturb you," Maggie muttered, when she managed to wriggle up enough to lean over to his ear. Ali sighed and nuzzled deeper into the comforter, oblivious to her sarcasm. Maggie gave up and climbed out of bed. She pulled the window curtain aside to let the light in, and saw snow falling. Lots of it.

  The sight wasn't as thrilling as it had been the other morning, when Dyna had cheerfully called her attention to the new snowfall. For one thing, Maggie was alone, except for Ali. And for another, the snow was still coming down, heavily, which was disconcerting since she had no idea how long that would continue and what that would mean to her for the day ahead.

  Well, nothing could be done about it, so she shuffled into her robe and slippers, ran her fingers through her tousled hair, and prepared to face the day.

  Downstairs, not feeling hungry after last night's feast with Leslie, Maggie simply set up a pot of coffee to perk, then dutifully filled Ali's food and water bowls. As the coffee maker gurgled and hissed, she wandered over to the sliding glass door, hands in pockets, and looked out at the snow. A bleak feeling of isolation crept over her.

  Although she knew she was walking distance - granted, not easy walking distance, especially now - from the town's main street, here on Hadley Road she was the only resident. And now, with Dyna away and only a sleeping cat for company, and with heavy snow cutting her off at least temporarily from other people, Maggie felt her aloneness keenly. She rubbed her arms, feeling cold, although she knew the cabin's temperature hadn't changed.

  Suddenly she shook her head. Enough! You told Dyna you were used to being on your own, and you are. This is not a big problem. Maggie turned back to the kitchen with determined energy. If she couldn't go out, she would have plenty to keep herself occupied. She'd work on her book. And when she couldn't write anymore, she'd clean the house. Wash windows. Anything. And before she knew it Dyna would call to tell her all she had been doing in Atlantic City.

  The coffee maker hissed its final hiss, and she poured out a mugful of coffee and blew on it, eager to take her first sip. She was anxious to get started and chase away the doldrums.

  <><><>

  Ali looked up through slitted, disapproving eyes as Maggie switched on the vacuum cleaner in her bedroom. He remained prone on the bed and tolerated the disturbance warily as long as it kept beyond two feet of his nesting quarters. But when Maggie began bumping the edge of the bed with the noisy cleaner, Ali jumped up, not troubling to hide his contempt for her lack of consideration, and stalked out of the room.

  A load of wash was chugging in the washer and one spinning in the dryer as Maggie vacuumed the entire upstairs area. The carpets hadn't been in dire need of cleaning - except for the likely deposits of cat hair in the last twenty-four hours - but Maggie needed noise, as well as the activity of vacuuming.

  She had worked on her book for most of the morning until the silence began to get to her. She swore she could hear the individual flakes landing outside, as the snow continued to come down. The phone had been disturbingly silent as well, even when Maggie stared right at it.

  What was Dyna doing? she wondered. Was she okay? When was she going to call? Along with that thought had come uneasy ones about Rob. They hadn't actually talked for how long now? Maggie lost track. They each seemed to call only when the other was out of reach. Should she try again? What if she just got his voice mail? A stubbornness crept up that kept her from doing anything other than postponing the decision. And so she tried to keep busy.

  When work at the computer didn't occupy her mind enough, when she reached points where she had run out of ideas and simply sat staring at the screen, she turned it off and sought out the cleaning supplies.

  Maggie scrubbed floors and polished tabletops until her nervous energy finally ran out. Then she collapsed on the living room sofa. Ali, who had been lurking in a dark corner, immediately scooted over and made an attempt to climb up with her, but Maggie pushed him firmly away.

  "We've had enough togetherness for a while. You belong to Dyna, you know. You'll just have to wait for her to come back."

  After trying one more time and being deterred, the large cat gave up and wandered over to his food bowl. He gobbled a bite or two, then played with the crunchy bits, scooping pieces out of his bowl with a curved paw and scooting them around Maggie's clean floor, hockey style. Maggie swore he looked over his shoulder to catch her reaction.

  She sighed, too tired to get up and stop him. "You're a devious little thing - make that BIG thing - just like Leslie said. Go ahead, have your revenge. But just wait until you're hungry again and see how you like searching for your food all over the cabin."

  The tip of Ali's tail flicked, and he moved over to his water bowl, testing it with a paw as if deciding what he could do with this. Maggie closed her eyes, not wanting to know. She reached for the afghan that had been draped over the back of the sofa, pulled it around her, and breathed deeply.

  The next thing she knew, the phone was ringing and it had grown dark out.

  "Maggie? Hello? Is that you?"

  "Mmmph." Maggie coughed, snuffled, then said, "Dyna?"

  "Did I wake you?"

  Maggie straightened up, letting the afghan fall away. The only light in the room came from the overhead in the kitchen, but she clearly saw Ali's face gazing at her from the foot of the couch, the front half of his body on the edge of the afghan. It might have been a trick of the light, but the look on his face seemed definitely smug.

  "Little devil," she muttered.

  "What? What did you say, Maggie?"

  "Nothing. How's it going, Dyna?"

  "Great. Pam and I have been busy. She left the baby with her mother-in-law, and we've been tramping all over Atlantic City. Like I said, a lot of her neighbors work there, so we talked to several of them."

  "What did you find out?"

  "Well," Dyna took a deep breath, and Maggie, hearing the flutter of paper, pictured her reading from a notebook of scribblings. "First of all, Alexander - no surprise here - was well known as a big gambler. He ran up some pretty big debts, and he almost always stayed at Jack Warwick's hotel."

  "That's interesting."

  "It's called the Turtle-wick. Jack owned it in partnership with someone named Turtletaub. The original name of the hotel was going to be something like 'The Green Turtle', but Jack, of course, had to get his name in there somehow. Anyway, people at the hotel knew Alexander. He ate in the restaurant there a lot - someone said he was a big tipper. But there didn't seem to be any sign of an affair going on. They said he was hardly ever seen with the same people twice, and a lot of the time he was alone. That probably blows my theory of a Mafia princess mistress."

  "So it seems. Did anyone see Alexander with Jack?"

  "I asked about that. They did remember seeing them once or twice, having dinner together. Just before Jack and Leslie came up to Cedar Hill."

  "I wonder if Alexander made the first move to Jack about buying Big Bear."

  "Could be. Maybe Alexander made big promises about being able to get the zoning changed and arrange the sale."

  "Mmm." Maggie wondered what that might have to do with the eventual murders of both men.

  "Everyone we talked to, by the way, knew about Jack's playing around - his `womanizing', as someone put it. Said he was pretty open about it, even hitting on hotel employees. His partner was getting pretty ticked off, they said. He felt they lost some good workers, people in upper management and all, because of it."

  "I'm sure they did." Poor Elizabeth. If she had only known. "What about Leslie? Where was she? Was she ever seen with Alexander?"

  "You mean just the two of them? No, there was nothing like that. And I don't think she was with them when Jack and Alexander were seen talking. That sounded like a private kind of business thing. Leslie only seemed to be around when there were these big
to-do's for the hotel, you know, entertaining the big-wigs to drum up business for the hotel. Playing hostess."

  "Hmm."

  "Tomorrow we're going to talk to people at the casinos. Maybe we can dig up something there."

  "Okay. You're doing a great job. Just be careful."

  "No problem. What's happening up there? I heard on the weather news you got some more snow."

  "Yeah, enough to keep me inside today. I'm not crazy about driving in deep snow with my Cavalier. But," Maggie craned her head to look out the window, "I think it's stopped, so the roads should be cleared soon. I'll go into town tomorrow, see what I can dig up."

  "Great. How's Ali doing?"

  Maggie looked over at Ali, who had inched even further onto the afghan while she had been talking. She thought about the scare he had given her this morning, and the cat food scattered into about the cabin. And who knows what other surprises he had arranged while she slept.

  "Ali's terrific," she said, her voice taking on the forced enthusiasm she used when trying to talk positively to parents of particularly difficult students. "Just super."

  "Oh, good. Give him a big hug for me," Dyna instructed and signed off.

  Maggie looked at the orange cat. He gazed calmly back at her.

  "It seems I owe you a hug."

  Ali blinked contentedly.

  CHAPTER 21

  The next morning Maggie looked out at bright sun shining on clean, white snow. The plow had cleared Hadley Road and much of the cabin's driveway. All Maggie had to do was clear the pile of snow pushed up close to the garage door and she could be on her way into town.

  Last night she had decided to talk to Annette, who didn't seem to miss a thing as far as the town's business was concerned. Surely she would have information that would be helpful to Maggie, and to Elizabeth. And to the town, which, whether the townspeople realized it or not, was in serious trouble. Someone was living in their midst who had no qualms about killing.