by Judi McCoy
And, biggest blessing of all, she rescued a dog that turned into her best friend, her confidant, and her joy.
A moment later Viv opened the kitchen door, walked to her side, and leaned next to her on the railing. “Agent SS reporting for duty.”
Ellie grinned. “I’m almost afraid to ask. What do the initials stand for?”
“Smart and Sexy, of course. I want to be a combination of Natasha from the Bullwinkle cartoons and Mata Hari.” She held the extra notepad from Montauk Drugs. It was exactly like Ellie’s, but it smelled of Obsession.
“And you’re reporting on your latest assignment.”
“Yes, but I’m afraid I didn’t learn much,” she answered, her voice heavy with annoyance.
“Did you reach everyone on the list?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“And?”
“And nothing. I spoke to ten people and got just about the same story. The R people didn’t remember anyone who was there, except for themselves and the McCready family. No one recalled you, Rosa, her girls, James Bond, or Uncle Mickey and Dr. B. Some of them hadn’t even met Dr. Kent. They knew he was dead, of course, but were shocked to hear he’d been murdered. Seems it takes a while for word from ‘out east’ to reach the big city.”
“Really?”
She snorted. “Personally, I don’t think they read. They just listen to the gossip shows on television.”
“But they all seemed so friendly and talkative when they were at the party.”
“Sure. Until they realized the people here couldn’t do anything for them in a monetary or personal way. Then they wrote everyone off and went back to their self-centered, it’s-all-about-me little lives.”
“What about Elsie and Connie?”
“They were much sweeter. Asked if they should come out for whatever type of memorial service Arlene was planning. They even reminded me to remind you to make dog walking arrangements when you got back to town.”
The info made Ellie dread her next task. “Guess that leaves me with your mom, dad, and Adrianne.”
“Guess so.” Viv turned and rested her backside on the railing again. “I brought the laundry down. You want to give it a shot, or do you trust me to take care of things?”
“I’ll lend a hand. I’ve only heard about these expensive steam cleaners, never seen one in action.” She followed Viv into the house and laundry room. “Wow,” she said, eyeing the dials, knobs, and buttons on the front of the huge appliances. The washers and dryers in the basement of her building looked like kids’ toys when compared to these professional machines.
Ellie sorted the laundry while Viv surveyed the directions posted on the washer door, then read a booklet tacked to the side wall of the room.
“Okay, it sounds easy enough. We’ll do everything natural fiber first, like cotton and linen, then the lingerie and bathing suits. This guide says that things take half the time to come clean with less soap and zero trauma to the fabric.”
“It sounds like a miracle invention.” Ellie stepped back and let Viv measure the detergent. “Let’s get something to eat while we wait.”
Viv put her hands on her hips. “What about your nocarbs-after-dinner rule?”
“Certain fruits are okay. I saw a bowl on the island. Let’s take a look.”
Five minutes later, they were snacking on peaches. It was then Ellie said, “Okay, here’s the plan. I’ll corral Arlene after breakfast tomorrow morning and find out how much she knows about her fiancé and his business. I have no idea what she told Detective Wheeling, nor do I know if she plans a service now that she realizes her fiancé was a slimeball.”
“She hasn’t said anything about it to me, either, so I guess you’d better ask her.” Viv cocked her head. “What do you want me to do while you’re in ‘questioning’ mode?”
“Keep your mom and sister busy so Arlene and I can talk in private. After that, fix it so I can speak with Vanessa alone, then Adrianne. It doesn’t have to be in that order, but I should use some logical sense of progression.”
“What about Dad?”
Ellie shrugged. “I’ll probably have to treat him as a hostile witness.”
“That’s a good description for him.” The washer buzzed and Viv straightened. “Time to get that load in the dryer and the next one in the cooker.”
They jockeyed positions and finished the chore. Then Ellie’s phone rang and she pulled it from her pocket. When she didn’t recognize the number on the display, she almost let the machine take a message, but she remembered her earlier call to Dr. Bridges.
“Paws in Motion,” she said. “How can I help you?”
“Ms. Engleman? It’s Dr. Kingsgate. Emily Bridges said you wanted to speak to me?”
Ellie covered the mouthpiece. “It’s the ME. I’ll take it on the deck.”
Viv waved her approval and Ellie returned to the call, walking as she talked. “Thanks so much for getting back to me. I hope you don’t mind the intrusion.”
Dr. Kingsgate laughed. “You’re not intruding. But Emily did tell me you were looking for answers, so I’m prepared. Fire away.”
Groaning internally, Ellie frowned. Was she really that transparent? How nice that the local medical examiners considered her a pest. “I do have questions but—do you mind answering? I mean, is it against the rules for you to release info on a current case?”
“I assume you’re talking about Dr. Kent?”
“Well, yeah. But how do you know that’s the person I’m interested in?”
“You’re in the Hamptons, correct?”
“Yes, Montauk.”
“That’s part of the territory I was assigned to after my training with Emily. And the only body I’ve worked on in the last two days is that of Martin Kent, a Montauk resident. I just put two and two together.”
“You’re finished with the autopsy?”
“I am.”
“And you’d be willing to give me the cause of death?”
“Well, technically I shouldn’t, but Emily swears you can be trusted. She also said that you had been involved in so many murder investigations over the past couple of months she thought the cops should hire you as a consultant. And since Detective Wheeling already got the report and made an arrest, well, it’ll be public record soon enough.”
“Great . . . I mean I appreciate it.”
“So, what do you need?”
“I’d like an exact description of how the doctor died.”
After a rustle of pages, Dr. Kingsgate said, “Okay, here goes. The cause of death was a subdural hematoma that resulted from blunt-force head trauma that, in turn, resulted from blunt-force chest trauma, causing the victim to fall backward against a hard surface.”
“That blunt-force chest trauma thing?” Ellie asked, wanting to get it right. “It means he was either shoved or pushed in the chest, and that’s what caused him to fall.”
“You got it. There was a contusion on his chest, left side, middle, about four inches around. Whoever made that bruise did it with force; a punch with a closed fist, maybe one of those karate kicks with a heel.”
“And that might have occurred in an argument, say a pushing and shoving match that got out of hand?”
“This was much more deliberate than pushing and shoving. Whoever did this knew that if they hit the doctor hard enough they might crack a rib and stop his heart.”
Ellie thought a second. “Could you tell if the blow was done by a man or a woman?”
“My guess would be a man, because it was quite a bruise. If a hand was used, it had to be man-sized.”
Ellie jotted the answer in her notebook. “One more question, Dr. Kingsgate, but you might not have the answer.”
“I’ll do my best. By the way, how about calling me Jordan?”
“Um, sure. And I’m Ellie.”
“Glad that’s settled. Now what’s the question?”
“Detective Wheeling said they have evidence against Tomas Suarez. Do you happen to know what it is?”
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“They don’t tell us, you understand, so I’ve only heard through the grapevine, but I gather they found a knife with Mr. Suarez’s fingerprints on it.”
“A knife? But I thought you said the cause of death was blunt head trauma.”
“It was. The knife was found on the floor behind the doctor’s desk. They ran the prints and learned they belonged to the suspect. Knowing what they do about his younger sister, they figured he came home to avenge her. They fought when they reached the outdoors and Suarez punched his chest. When he realized the victim was dead, he took off without picking up the weapon.”
“That sounds like conjecture.”
“Yes, it does, but people have gone to jail for less. Right now they think they have a good case.”
“You waiting for your pigeon to land, or what?” asked Rudy after climbing the stairs to the deck the next morning.
“Arlene is not a pigeon. She’s a woman with a problem that I’m hoping to help solve. She’s already told me she’s grateful I’m going to work toward clearing Rosa’s son for the murder, and she’s agreed to spend some time answering questions.”
“Where is she?”
“Getting us both a cup of coffee from the kitchen. Very nice of her, if you ask me.”
“She’s the hostess. She’s supposed to be nice.”
Ellie narrowed her eyes. “She just lost her fiancé under trying circumstances, and she’s been notified by the DEA that he was a drug pusher. That’s enough to drive any woman to drink, if you ask me. Even I’ve been known to knock back a shot of something strong if I’m upset.”
“Takin’ a swig of something with a little kick to it every now and again is one thing. Popping pills to wake up, calm down, or fall asleep is different. She needs professional help.”
“I agree, and Viv and I are going to make sure she gets it once this mess is over. Adrianne, too, if she’ll accept it.”
The back door opened and the three Boston Terriers trotted out, yipping and nipping each other in playful abandon.
“Oh, brother,” Rudy muttered. “Here we go again.”
“Be nice,” said Ellie. She nodded to Arlene, who carried two steaming mugs of coffee to the table and set them down.
“Just let me get my gang settled and we can talk.” After ordering her dogs to curl up on their beds, she pulled chew treats from the pocket of her gauzy white cover-up. “Can your boy have a rawhide?” she asked Ellie, passing one to each of her babies.
Rudy sat at attention and Ellie nodded. “Sure, and thanks for the coffee.”
Arlene gave Rudy the chew and he hunkered down to enjoy the treat. “Your dog is very sweet,” she said. “But a little spooky. I know mine listen and obey, but your man? Sometimes I think he understands everything that’s going on around him.”
“Rudy is one of a kind,” said Ellie. “I like to think he’s special, in a very good way.”
“My kids are special, too. I guess that’s what every owner thinks about their dog.”
“That’s only natural if they love them.”
After taking a deep breath, Arlene sat at the table. It appeared to Ellie as if she’d calmed down. She seemed less animated and more reserved, which meant, she supposed, that whatever drug she’d taken had worn off.
“Thanks for agreeing to talk with me,” Ellie told her. “I know you’re still grieving over losing Martin.”
“Funny, but now that I know what he was doing, I don’t really miss him. If my eyes had been open, I’d have seen that he was a sleaze. It makes me angry to think I was taken in by him,” she said. “What he did to Maria was unconscionable. Adults are responsible for themselves, but an innocent teenager? He had no excuse for doing what he did to her.”
“I’m sorry you had to find out about him that way, but better now than after you were married. Just think, it could have been your father’s scenario. Whoever killed him could have come looking for him when the two of you were alone in the house, and killed you, too.”
Arlene shuddered. “I’ve thought about that.” She sipped her coffee, then set the cup down. “It’s nice of you to want to help Rosa. She’s been so good to me, especially since Myron passed away.”
“Awwwk! Myron. That’s my name. Awwwk! Don’t wear it out!”
Ellie glanced at the bird dancing on his perch. “He’s quite a character. Vivian told me he stayed in Dr. Kent’s office while the house was being painted.”
“I had to keep him safe from the paint odors, so Martin agreed to keep him.” Arlene pulled an M&M from her pocket and walked to the African gray’s perch. “Here, sweetie pie. Mommy’s good boy.”
The parrot picked the yellow candy from her fingers and brought it to his mouth. “Mm-mmm good! Awwwk! Mm-mmm good! Awwwk!”
“Martin said he didn’t mind, but I’m almost positive he never got his favorite treat there.” Arlene took her seat. “Now, where were we?”
Getting down to business, Ellie said, “Who do you think could have wanted Martin dead?”
Arlene’s green eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know. At first, when Detective Wheeling talked to me, he said it might be anyone he’d sold to or someone he worked with who wanted a bigger cut of his business. I still can’t believe he prescribed pills like they were peanuts to anyone who asked or—or—” She shook her head. “I guess I’ve been fooling myself, knowing that he had so-called patients driving in at all hours and leaving just as quickly. I should have questioned his activities.”
“And he never talked about his business associates?”
“Not a word about anyone. He liked his cars, of course, and he has a boat up in Sag Harbor. He gave me a five-carat emerald-cut diamond engagement ring. It was so huge, I was embarrassed to wear it. He had social connections here, but it was always his work that seemed to drive him.” She gazed at her African gray. “There was a thirty-year age difference between myself and Myron. When I met Martin, I should have seen his flaws, but it was nice to be courted by a successful man more my own age.”
“And you’re positive Tomas arrived home only an hour before Martin’s death?”
Arlene took another hit of coffee. “Rosa said so, and I believe her. I still can’t understand why she wanted to save me pain by covering up what Martin tried to do to Maria. He was despicable.”
“Despicable enough for someone in the Suarez family to want him dead?”
“They’re good people,” Arlene said, shaking her head. “I just can’t see it.”
Ellie had a final question, one she’d been thinking, but hadn’t voiced out loud. “What about Julio?”
“What about him?”
“He’s Maria’s father. I imagine he was upset with Martin, too. Could he have gone to the doctor’s office and gotten into a scuffle with Dr. Kent and killed him?”
“I know he’s strong, but Julio is also gentle and soft-spoken. I don’t believe there’s a mean bone in the man’s body. Rosa said he was with Tomas in the house, and I believe her.”
“Maria was his baby. What if he called Tomas home and talked him into helping him avenge the wrong Martin had done?”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that.”
“I haven’t seen Julio for almost twenty-four hours now,” said Ellie, carefully broaching her next question. “Rosa told me he’d been at church making something called a manda. Do you know what that is?”
When Arlene raised her head, her eyes were filled with tears. “I have no idea.” The hand holding her coffee cup began to shake. “All this questioning has worn me out. I can’t talk any longer. I need to go upstairs and lie down.” She stood before Ellie could say another word. “Come on, babies. It’s time to go up with Mommy.” She pushed through the kitchen door, held it open for the Bostons, and disappeared.
“I haven’t seen Adrianne since we finished breakfast,” said Viv as she and Ellie shared space under a beach umbrella on the shore. “Mother said she was around somewhere, but she hasn’t answered the cottage phone or her cell, and
when I asked Dad he said she wasn’t up there.”
Ellie had spoken with Vanessa McCready immediately after lunch, but had no luck garnering any more information than she did from Arlene. According to Vanessa, she’d been on the porch entertaining the McCready relatives, not paying attention to where any one person was. She figured Arlene had everything under control. It was her daughter’s night, after all. What else was a mother supposed to do?
Viv had kept Adrianne busy during the time Ellie spoke to Vanessa, but the middle sister had somehow still managed to escape just as Ellie was about to sit her down for a talk. They’d searched high and low and eventually given up, deciding instead to spend time in the late-afternoon sun.
Now that they’d been on the beach for about an hour, Ellie decided to make a careful inspection of her legs. After doing so, she breathed a sigh of relief. Her traffic cone orange extremities were almost back to normal and had, in fact, turned a decent shade of brown. Maybe tomorrow, she could again sit in the sun and leave the Hamptons looking as if she’d actually enjoyed a week at the shore.
Glancing to her left, she noted that Viv was still using the same expensive bronzing gel, and turning a beautiful shade of gold in the process. Stop fussing about your skin and Viv’s and get back to business, she told herself.
“Strange how Adrianne never seems to be around when she’s needed, isn’t it?”
“I know,” said Viv. “Then again, she always was a bit of a Harry Houdini. Whenever the three of us got into trouble, Adrianne always took off right before we were caught, and in the end only Arlene and I would get punished. She’d turned her disappearing act into an art form by the time she was eight.”
“I imagine she’ll show up for dinner, don’t you?”
