by Judi McCoy
“Over the past year, I’ve learned that’s the way they do things,” Ellie answered, sorry she had to give them this bit of news. “The police look for the obvious answer, and when they find it they’re finished. Unless the lead detective has a reason to be suspicious, they usually let the arrest and the evidence stand and go to trial.”
Rosa gave a halfhearted smile. “And that is the reason you are trying to help my son? Because you are suspicious?”
“More than not trusting Detective Wheeling’s decision, I believe in you, and Julio and the girls.” She made eye contact with Maria and Terry. “You’re decent people and you believe Tomas is innocent, which means I do, too. That’s why Viv and I won’t be eating breakfast here, maybe not even lunch. We’re going to look for clues.”
“Clues, but not here?” asked Maria.
“Yep, so I need to talk to you both, all right?”
When the girls nodded, Rosa said, “I must still prepare food for la familia. I will only be a short distance away.”
Ellie pulled a pen and the black spiral notepad from her tote. “The way I understand it, the two of you were the main caretakers of Dr. Kent’s office. That means you saw who came and went to him on a regular basis, correct?”
“Maria and I split the duties,” Terry told her. “I’d take the afternoon shift, which was mostly cleanup. Maria did the morning, made sure the waiting room and public offices were presentable, refilled the lemon water, that kind of thing.”
“I’d like you both to think hard. Best guess: Which of the doc’s clients did you see in his office the most? Better still, did you ever hear him arguing with anyone? Or maybe complaining to himself after a patient left?”
“He always treated his patients, who were mostly women, I might add, with charm. You know, holding the door open when they left his office, complimenting them on their hair or clothes, that sort of thing,” said Terry, a smile lurking on her lips. “They all seemed to love him, but I’m pretty sure I know which ones he screwed.”
Rosa tsked from across the room. “Teresa, be careful what you say!”
“Really?” Ellie said at the same time.
“It’s true, Mama. Many of those wealthy women used sex as a way to secure their pills. And their names could help our brother.” Terry gave a full-blown grin. “Right, Ellie?”
“Uh, possibly.” And maybe, if she got the sisters talking, something inconsequential might slip that would lead her to the killer. “I’m ready for the names when you want to give them.”
Terry rested her chin in her palm, thinking. Then she began a slow recitation. Several of the names were vaguely familiar, but she’d have to ask Arlene who the women were. In all, she was given eight names. “And you’re sure he was sleeping with them?”
“Almost positive. They were always the last patients of the afternoon, and most of the time I’d be here when they left. The doc would walk them out of the office while they straightened their clothes and giggled. Sometimes, they even shared a kiss before he opened the front door.”
“And you’re certain this is all of them?”
Terry swallowed. “Yes, except for—”
“Enough!” called Rosa, staring daggers at her eldest daughter from over the island sink.
“It’s all right, Rosa,” Ellie offered. “We know about Adrianne. We saw the painting on the office wall.”
Terry and her sister heaved a breath. “I’m glad that’s out. I hated keeping the information from Arlene, but I thought it would hurt her more to know—”
“That her sister was sleeping with her fiancé. You bet it would,” added Maria.
“Okay,” said Ellie. “Anyone else?”
Maria crossed her arms. “Uncle Mickey usually stopped in first thing most mornings. He and Dr. Kent talked loud enough for me to hear, but I never really paid much attention, so I don’t know what they said. Uncle Mickey always seemed jolly when he left, so I’m not sure they were arguing. And Dr. B came with him once in a while,” she said. “Did you talk to her?”
“Uncle Mickey and Dr. B are already on the list.” Footsteps and voices rattled on the terrace. “It sounds as if the family has arrived for breakfast, so I have to run.” She gazed at both girls. “If you think of anyone else, let me know.”
Viv walked into the kitchen. “Hi, girls. Ellie, you ready?”
Ellie tossed her notepad into her bag. “Looks like Viv and I are off.” She grinned at Rudy and Mr. T, sitting in a corner of the eating area. “Maria, would you mind putting the boys in the back pen?”
“Those cuties? No problem.”
“Oh, and one more question,” said Ellie. “How about giving us the skinny on where all the society people hang out? What are the most popular places for breakfast and lunch?”
Ellie sat with Viv at a waterside table at the Oasis Bar and Restaurant in Sag Harbor, drinking what she hoped was their last glass of wine for the day. They’d arrived after the lunch crowd cleared out, so most of the prime tables were free, which gave them a great view of the harbor and its resident boats, including the one that belonged to Billy Joel.
And giving the fleet such a simple description made Ellie grin, because most of the “boats” were yacht-sized with enough space to sleep ten or twelve belowdecks and more topside. She’d even heard people talking about a party they’d attended with forty or so guests on deck, and an on-site crew that consisted of a captain, a personal chef, and a brigade of crewmen.
Viv nursed a merlot recommended by the waitress, while Ellie held tight to a glass of sauvignon blanc, refusing all offers of a refill. This was their fifth restaurant of the day. They’d stopped at the Golden Pear Café, a delightful cafeteria-style spot in Bridgehampton, for breakfast, and another place called the Bagel Bin after that. They also had lunch at the American Hotel here in Sag Harbor, stopped at another place for dessert, and arrived at the Oasis for drinks.
Oddly enough, not a single person had given her swollen face a glance. Instead of wondering about a stranger, these women seemed more interested in what was going on in their own lives. They clustered at tables talking while they ate, but each group seemed to clam up whenever Ellie and Viv took a seat nearby. One group even left and huddled around a table outside to finish their conversation, which was, to Ellie’s mind, a direct insult.
But she refused to obsess, racking her brain for some way to begin a casual conversation with anyone to see if they knew Martin Kent.
In between restaurant-hopping, they’d wandered the downtown areas of several small villages, where Ellie tried her best to listen to the women chatting in the clothing stores while Viv shopped. Stories about Prince William and Prince Harry attending a polo match on Governor’s Island in support of a charity that aided the children of an impoverished African nation abounded, but there were also a few references regarding Dr. Kent accompanied by knowing looks whenever someone mentioned his death. And there was no talk of who might have killed him or who the replacement for their drug needs would be.
She was about to confess to Viv that she was out of ideas when their waitress approached with the tab. She reached for her wallet, but Viv intercepted the folder, pulled out her debit card, and tucked it in the slot, then added a hundred-dollar bill to the inside pocket.
Ellie realized anything she said at this point would be considered rude, so she shut up and let Viv do her thing.
“This is all yours, Kileyanne.” Viv handed the folder to their server, a young woman of about twenty wearing the usual waitress garb and a ton of eye makeup. “I was wondering if you could do us a favor.”
Kileyanne checked the folder and grinned. “Sure, just let me take care of this first.”
“I know you have money to spend,” Ellie whispered when the waitress sauntered away. “But that tip was four times the amount of our bill. What’s up?”
Viv shook her head, sending her straight dark brown hair rippling in the light bouncing off the peaceful water of Sag Harbor. “We tried it your way all day, and
nothing worked, so I thought it was about time we used my method.”
“And your method is . . .”
“Couldn’t you tell from all the blather we’ve listened to today? Money talks and bullshit—well—you know what it does. Now hang tight and watch a master at work.”
Sitting back in her chair, Ellie prepared for the show. Viv could be quite the actress when she put her mind to it, which meant the next ten minutes might be fun.
Kileyanne returned with the receipt and handed it to Viv. Then she pulled out a chair, sat down, and raised her chin toward the bartender. “Chuck says I have a couple of free minutes. So, what’s on your mind?”
“My friend and I”—Viv tipped her glass to Ellie—“had an appointment with a doctor over in Montauk this morning, and when we got there the office was shut up tight with a sign on the door that said he was closed. We were wondering if maybe you knew what happened to him.”
“You must mean Dr. Kent,” Kileyanne said, her voice low.
“He’s the one. Did you hear why he closed up shop?”
She glanced around the room. All the tables were empty, except for one near the door, where a man sat with his back to them. “He was murdered.”
“Murdered?” said Ellie, playing dumb. “How? Do they know who did it?”
Kileyanne pulled a blue packet of sweetener from a holder on the table. “Word is, the cops arrested a kid who lived on the property, but the ‘in’ people have a different idea. Some of them think he was killed by a disgruntled patient.”
“A patient?” Ellie blinked her surprise. “Then it could be someone people around here know?”
The girl shook her head. “I’m on the other side. I think it was a business partner. You know—like a supplier.”
“Any idea who that might be?” asked Viv.
She twisted the packet in her fingers. “Not me, but I do know who’s making money now that he’s gone.”
“Really?” said Viv. “And is it someone who’s in his same line of work?”
“Line of work?”
Viv lowered her voice. “You know, they’re willing to help women with . . . problems. Anxiety, depression, weight loss. All the things that bring a girl down.”
“Oh, that.” Kileyanne again glanced over her shoulder, as if making sure no one was listening. “Try Dr. Bordowski. But she goes by Dr. B,” “she said, her voice dropping a tone.” “I’ve only heard about her, and I’ve never visited her for a—er—a problem.”
“Of course not,” said Ellie, hoping to win the girl over. “Do you happen to know where this Dr. B’s office is located?”
Kileyanne tapped the packet on the table, then set it back in the metal holder and straightened the group of condiments. “She’s on some side street in Bridgehampton, but I don’t know the exact address.” She checked out the room again before speaking. “My girlfriend Amy, we’re roomies at the same college, she goes to Dr. B for help losing weight. Nothing seemed to work, so she asked around and a lot of the girls said to go to her or Dr. Kent. She told me yesterday she’s lucky she started with Dr. B, so she didn’t have to go through the mechanics of getting a new prescription.”
“What’s your friend—Amy, is it?—what’s she been taking?” asked Viv.
“It’s two things, really. One to stop her from feeling hungry and another drug to help her fall asleep. That one really zonks her out.” The bartender rattled a glass, then cleared his throat, and Kileyanne jumped to her feet. “Sorry. I have to go. Good luck, and thanks for the tip.”
The girl walk into the kitchen and Ellie took a survey of the room, noting they were now the only customers. The man sitting at a table near the door had left. “Maybe we should go. We found out what we needed.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Viv picked her bag off the table and headed toward the exit. “A very big something?”
Ellie held back a laugh. “Will a ‘thank you so much, Vivian, for the brilliant idea of talking to our waitress’ do? Because without your genius idea, we’d still be strolling around stores that charge exorbitant prices for clothes while listening to semisocialite bitches crab about their inadequate allowances.” She raised her nose in the air. “I can’t believe Daddy is insisting I get along on just four thousand a week,” she said in a thick Long Island accent.
Viv giggled as they left the Oasis and headed for their car. “That’s close enough.” She unlocked the door and they slid inside, where Viv started the engine and cranked the air up to high. “So, thanks to me we know that good ol’ Dr. B, or Sabrina Bordowski, had a hand in whatever it was Kent was running, and probably Uncle Mickey, too. I swear, people should pay less attention to complaining and more to being kind to their servers. Those people hear everything, yet no one gives them a second look. I bet they know enough secrets to extort millions.”
“You’re probably right. Just imagine the flap there’d be if one of them decided to write a book.” Ellie checked her watch. “I guess we’d better get back to the house for dinner, though I doubt I can eat a thing.” She snapped her seat belt in place. “I haven’t had this much food in ages.”
“I know, but it was worth it,” said Viv, pulling out of their parking spot. “Besides, one smell of Rosa’s delicious cooking and your appetite will be back in no time.”
“You’re probably right,” Ellie agreed. “What do you think is happening at home?”
“Any one of a million things. But my guess is Arlene’s waiting for us to return before she confronts Adrianne.”
Chapter 14
Ellie took a quick shower, tamed her curls, and got dressed for dinner. After pulling on black linen shorts, a silk lime green T, and a matching sweater, she checked herself in the mirror, happy to see that her wardrobe didn’t look too shabby. Of course, it couldn’t hold a candle to Viv and the Ralph Lauren pieces she had packed in her five Louis Vuitton suitcases, but what she owned did appear colorful, clean, and up-to-date.
And it was important she look her best tonight, because she was preparing to referee a knock-down, drag-out fight during what would be a very important evening in the McCready family’s life.
“Stop fussin’,” said Rudy, who was perched on the foot of their bed. “You look fine to me.”
“Thanks, big guy, but this bruise is a bummer. I can wear sunglasses when I’m out in public, but it’s a different story when I’m on a shaded deck with friends.”
She checked her cell phone, saw that there were three messages from Sam, and set the phone on vibrate. Then she dropped it in her pocket. “I have to make a point of calling Sam before bed tonight.”
“Detective Doofus is checkin’ up on you, I bet.”
“Sam is not ‘checking up on me.’ We haven’t talked in a couple of days. I miss him, and I’m sure he misses me.” She gave him the evil eye. “And stop calling him a doofus.”
“Okay, okay. No doofus, but I’m still gonna use demento. That’s one of my favorites,” he told her, adding a sneeze to finish the pronouncement.
Ellie sat next to him and gave his ears a rub. “We’ll see. Now tell me about your afternoon. Did you learn anything that might help with the case?”
He lay down and put his head on her thigh. “A couple of things went on. First, there was still a lot of traffic parading in and out of the dead doc’s parking lot. Most folks read the notice and drove away, but a few walked up here and bothered Rosa.” He snorted. “She was cool with it. Told ’em el doctor had died and she had no idea who they should see for their problems.”
“Smart woman, and nice to hear that she kept them from bothering her boss. Arlene’s going to have enough on her plate when she confronts Adrianne tonight.” She ran her hands down his back and he rolled over for a belly rub. “Anything else?”
Rudy wriggled under her scratching fingers. “Oh, ooh, yeah, right there—riiiight there.” He stretched out his back legs and she ran her hand up and down his tummy, hitting all the good spots. When she finished, he stood and gave another s
neeze. “I’ll take a second round of that before bed, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course I don’t mind. Now, what else did you learn?”
After giving a full body shake, he plopped his bottom on the mattress. “Julio and Rosa talked. I found out what that manda thing really is.” He raised his muzzle. “And it’s darned special, if you ask me.”
“Since when did you learn to speak Spanish?”
“I thought you knew. I’m bilateral.”
Ellie smothered a smile. “I think you mean bilingual.”
“Whatever. And I learned more when Tomas joined them. He went over exactly what he did that night in the doc’s office and swore to ’em it was true.”
“Really? And did it happen the way we thought? He threatened the doc with the knife, they argued and he dropped it, and then he ran and the doc followed him out? But he escaped, leaving Kent to contend with the real killer?”
“You got it. Tomas didn’t see anyone lying in wait, but there must’a been, just like you thought.”
“And the manda explanation? Did it make any sense to you?”
He gave a doggie shrug. “I have a handle on it, but it’s hard to explain. It’s got something to do with that juramento thing. It’s a special promise of some kind made to the Virgin Mother. Ask Rosa. She knows.”
“I can only hope she does. Maybe I should ask Julio? Or Tomas?”
“I wouldn’t waste my time on that kid. He’s got a chip on his shoulder the size of an overstuffed burrito. He needs to make that trek to Mexico City on his hands and knees when this mess is over.”
“He’ll have to do what!” asked Ellie, standing.
“Never mind. Rosa will tell you.” He jumped off the bed. “Let’s get movin’. I’m starved and I can’t wait for the show to begin.”
Ellie bit her lower lip. Tomas had to crawl to some place in Mexico City? She needed Rosa to explain that one to her, but it would have to wait until later. All she could focus on now were the McCready sisters.
