by Lois Winston
Jim, Jenny and I started talking at the same time. Even Lucy and Ethel got into the act, adding their yips of moral support.
Mark finally pulled out a dining room chair and gestured for us to sit down. “All right, everybody. We’re all friends here. At least, I hope you still think of me as a friend. Let’s sit down and take a deep breath and see what we can figure out. I’m not officially on duty now, so think of this as a brainstorming session. Okay?”
Jenny offered to make a pot of fresh coffee, and disappeared into the kitchen. Jim sat down at the head of the table and put his head in his hands. I sincerely hoped he wasn’t crying, but I couldn’t blame him if he was. I looked down at my hands and realized they were shaking.
Mark looked at me. I noticed his color was better now. It looked like his upset stomach had improved. My stomach was doing flip-flops, and it definitely wasn’t from the Chinese food.
“Mrs. Andrews, you’re first. I told you this morning that I wasn’t happy about you asking any more questions, though I didn’t see how I could stop you. No, let me finish,” he said as I started to defend myself. “I realize that you and your friends are in a unique position to help clear up this mess. So, I want you to go over everything you’ve discovered, and everyone you’ve talked to, in the last few days, about the Davis Rhodes case. But before you start, I want you to know that I don’t believe for one minute that you, Mr. Andrews, are responsible for Davis Rhodes’s death. I think you just were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
We breathed a collective sigh of relief.
“However,” Mark went on, “someone did cause his death, and I believe that same person is setting you up, Mr. Andrews. Unfortunately, my colleagues down at police headquarters don’t share my view of the case. If they had their way, you’d be hauled in for more questioning, or maybe even held as a material witness. I’ve had a real tough time keeping that from happening, and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep stonewalling them. My partner is really on my back about it, especially after the cell phone arrived. This is a very frustrating case. And I want to come up with the truth. But I’m not going to risk losing my job.”
Jenny poured the freshly brewed coffee into everyone’s cups. I couldn’t help but notice that she served Mark first, and that she also knew exactly how he took his coffee. A little cream and two sugars.
Mark looked at me again, and said, “From the top, please. And don’t leave anything out.”
Being me, of course, I couldn’t just tell the story from the top. Not with what Mark had just admitted.
“It’s so scary that you think someone is setting Jim up. But I have to say that’s the first thing I’ve heard about this nightmare that makes any sense. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for believing in him. None of us want to see you lose your job. I didn’t realize how much pressure you were under at work because of this case.”
“It’s in everyone’s best interests to resolve this as soon as possible,” Mark said. He appeared to be slightly embarrassed. Perhaps he thought he’d said too much about his personal situation.
“While you were talking, Mark, I realized that Jim and Davis Rhodes had a terrific relationship,” I added. “That was obvious to me at our first consultation.” I refrained from adding the part about the chocolate chip cookies.
Jim nodded his head vigorously. “That’s right. Rhodes and I worked very well together and I really admired him. It wasn’t until the actual day he died that we had any problems. And I’m sure they could have been cleared up if we’d had a chance to talk.”
“Mark, don’t you think the person who was responsible for Rhodes’s death had to have planned it well in advance?” Jenny asked. “After all, if it was some kind of drug interaction, and some of these heart pills were planted for Rhodes to take, who knew when he would actually take them? Is that what you think happened, that some of this Enalapril was planted among some of his regular medication?”
Mark looked at Jenny in admiration. “You’d make a good detective. That’s exactly what we think must have happened. But so far we have no idea who could have done it. And of course, there’s the matter of proving it, too.”
I cleared my throat. “I’ve thought of something else. I’ve been wondering why this blue bottle looks familiar. This isn’t an ordinary prescription bottle, like you’d get at a pharmacy. This is the kind of bottle veterinarians use for animals. I have one in the kitchen cabinet right now that has pills in it for Lucy’s thyroid condition. I think vets use blue bottles so they can’t be confused with medicine for humans.”
We all pondered that piece of trivial information for a minute. I, for one, was clueless as to what that fact could mean, but I felt that somehow I had added an important piece to the puzzle. Nobody else seemed to share that opinion.
Mark looked at me again. “Okay, go over everything for me and please, don’t leave anything out, even if you think it’s not important.”
I started my story with meeting Maria at the Trattoria to plan Mary Alice’s retirement shower. For the first time, I added Maria’s comments about how badly Rhodes had treated the restaurant wait staff. I talked about Grace Retuccio, and Sheila, and how each of them had eaten dinner with Rhodes at the restaurant. I threw in the part about Grace calling Rhodes “Dick.” Then I told Mark how Nancy and her real estate network had tracked down Grace, and our subsequent meeting with her. I finished with the meeting Mary Alice and I had with Sheila about organizing the memorial service for Rhodes. I spared no details. I probably went on for a good twenty minutes.
Mark took copious notes in a little wire-bound notebook.
I took a sip of my coffee and realized it was now stone cold. What the heck. I drank it anyway.
Jenny and Jim said nothing after I was through. Somehow, I didn’t think they were both speechless with admiration for all I’d accomplished, but who knows?
Mark asked me again about my cell phone.
“I wish more than anything that I could remember where I lost it,” I said helplessly. “But I use the damn thing so seldom that I never missed it.” I glared at Jim. “I told you I never wanted one in the first place. But you insisted.” Then I realized how cruel that sounded. How could I scold Jim when he was suspected of murder? “Jim, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
My husband gave me a tight-lipped smile.
“Let’s stick to the point here,” Mark said. “I want you all to think very hard. Is there anyone who’s been in this house since Davis Rhodes’s death who could have planted that pill bottle in your medicine cabinet?”
“Nancy, Claire, and Mary Alice have all been here,” I said. “And you and your partner, of course.” Now there was an interesting thought. Wouldn’t it be great if Mark’s pain-in-the-ass partner planted the pill bottle?
Stupid, Carol. Move along.
“We did get a Fed Ex delivery a few days ago, but the deliveryman didn’t come inside. Oh, and there were two college students selling magazine subscriptions, but they didn’t come inside, either. That’s it.”
Jenny opened her mouth to say something, and all of a sudden I realized I had left out one person on my list of recent visitors, Linda Burns.
But what possible motive could she have to implicate kill Rhodes and implicate Jim? I shook my head a little at Jenny, and she got the hint and didn’t speak. I was not about to mention Linda, and have the police question her, until I figured out a few more things. And I knew just how I was going to start. As soon as Mark left, I was going to email Mike and have him do an Internet search on her.
Jim said, “Mark, I feel better knowing you believe in me, but I’m going to call my lawyer now and bring him up to date on what’s happened tonight.” He stood up and shook Mark’s hand. “It’s good to have you in my corner. Thanks.”
Mark asked Jenny for a plastic bag to put the pill bottle in. “I hope you understand that I have to turn this bottle in to headquarters,” he said, “even though I believe Mr. Andrews is innocent. It’s evidence
in a murder. I’ll do what I can to convince the powers-that-be of my theory, but you may have to come down to the station tomorrow for questioning, Mr. Andrews. I’ve also done my best to keep your name out of any newspaper stories, but I’m not sure how much longer I can do that.”
Jim nodded his head and left the dining room to call Larry.
Jenny walked Mark to the door and I could hear murmured talking. I didn’t even bother to try to overhear what they were talking about. I had more important things to do than eavesdrop on my daughter and her perhaps-boyfriend.
I scurried to my office, fired up my computer, emailed Mike in Florida and asked him to find out anything he could about Linda Burns and Dick Retuccio. And I told him it was an emergency.
I just prayed he’d check his email tonight.
~*~
Jenny and I had a quick conference in the kitchen before we went to bed. “Mom, why didn’t you tell Mark that Linda Burns was here yesterday, and used your bathroom to wash her hands?”
“I didn’t think it was smart to mention Linda’s name to Mark yet. It could just be a coincidence that Linda used that bathroom. And I’d never hear the end of it from her if the police questioned her because I suggested it. She’d probably sue me for slander. Or libel. I never could keep those two things straight. Anyway, I just emailed Mike and asked him to do an Internet search on Linda Burns. And while I was at it, I also asked him to check on Dick Retuccio.”
“Good plan, Mom. I hope Mike responds quickly. In the meantime, what else can we do to help Dad?”
“Well,” I said slowly, “it might be good to give Mike some more information about Linda. For instance, do you know where she got her degrees from?”
Jenny laughed. “That’s easy. You go into her office and the whole wall is full of her diplomas. It’s really weird, because most of the other professors don’t display them, the way doctors and lawyers do. She got her undergraduate degree from Papermill University, just outside of Los Angeles. I’m not sure what year, though, but I can certainly check tomorrow when I go to school. And I think she got her graduate degrees from Athena University, which is a really top-notch school. It’s somewhere in the state of Washington.” She yawned.
I was immediately the doting mother. “Sweetie, you need your sleep. I’m just going to send Mike another quick email with the new information you gave me about Linda, and then I’ll be up, too.” I gave her a quick squeeze. “We both know Dad’s innocent. It won’t be long before the police know that, too.”
Now if I could just tell myself to stop worrying. Yeah. Right.
TWENTY-SIX
On anniversaries, the wise husband always forgets the past, but never the present.
Thursday morning snuck up on me far too soon. I lay there in bed, feeling groggy. Probably because I had tossed and turned for most of the night. I was debating whether to roll over and give sleep another try when I heard the comforting sounds of Jenny moving around in the kitchen. I inhaled and smelled the heavenly aroma of perking coffee.
Being a caffeine junkie, there was no contest. I just made sure not to look at my haggard face in the mirror when I brushed my teeth. Too scary. And depressing.
It was wonderful to have Jenny home for a while, I thought for the hundredth time. I knew I’d better not get too used to it, though. She’d already made it clear that if she stayed in Fairport, she’d want a place of her own. No more mooching off Mom and Dad.
I threw on a sweat suit and headed for the kitchen, looking forward to enjoying a leisurely breakfast with my daughter before she left for school. It was also a good opportunity to continue our brainstorming about Linda Burns.
Imagine my surprise when I walked into the kitchen and found Jim there instead of Jenny. Being someone who always jumped to the worst possible scenario, I panicked. I was sure something horrible had happened that I didn’t know about. Yet.
“Easy, Carol,” Jim said, correctly reading my mood for once. “Larry and I had a short conversation last night. He and Claire just got home, and we decided it was important for us to get together this morning and come up with some sort of defense strategy.” He saw the stricken look on my face and hastened to explain. “Not a defense strategy as in a court defense strategy. Larry is looking for an angle to take me off the police’s suspect list. Permanently. He agrees with Mark’s theory that someone is trying to frame me. I’m meeting him for breakfast, and then I’ll take a later train into New York. I’ve already called the office and said I’d be late today.
“You know,” he added, “I feel so much better knowing that Mark believes in my innocence. Oh, by the way, Jenny has no car today, remember? She had to leave for school extra early because she was hitching a ride with another instructor. She said she’ll call you later and let you know what she finds out. Am I supposed to know what that means?”
I was dying to tell Jim my theory about Linda Burns, but muzzled myself. I needed proof, something that tied her and Davis Rhodes together, before I dared voice my idea to Jim. Otherwise, he’d tell me I was crazy. And, of course, he could be right. So I ignored his question and distracted him by holding out a coffee cup for him to fill.
“If I retire soon, I’ll make the coffee for you every morning,” Jim said. “Wouldn’t you like that?”
Ouch. No, I wouldn’t like that.
With all that had been going on, I’d lost track of the reason why this whole mess had started in the first place. Or, to put the proper spin on the situation, why I had started what turned into an unholy mess. I didn’t want the traditional husband-wife roles mixed up. Hell, I didn’t want my turf invaded. There, I’d finally admitted to myself that what Nancy had accused me of so many weeks ago was true. I knew I’d have to find a way to deal with these feelings when Jim did actually retire, but right now, I had other things to accomplish.
I managed a weak smile and said, “That’s a great idea. It’s something for me to look forward to when you retire. In the future.”
Jim laughed. “It’s not going to happen today, honey. I’m leaving now to meet Larry. I’ll check in with you later.”
I walked him to the door, gave him a quick smooch, and sent him on his way. Then I settled back with the morning papers to enjoy my delicious cup of coffee. I had to give the guy credit—he did make better coffee than I did.
I ignored the little blue plastic bag with the New York Times inside in favor of our local paper. I wasn’t feeling smart enough yet to digest the Times.
Whoa! What was this story at the bottom of page one?
Break-In Reported at Local Retirement Center
The Re-tirement Survival Center, recent scene of the death of its founder, Davis Rhodes, was broken into sometime Wednesday night, a Westfield police spokesperson said. Entry was gained through a window at the rear of the structure. “It’s too soon to determine whether anything was taken,” said the spokesperson, who also refused to speculate about any connection between the break-in and the suspicious death of Davis Rhodes.
I couldn’t believe it. I sat down at the kitchen table with the paper in my hand and read the story again. Who would want to break into the Center? Why? And where were all the juicy details a story like this should have?
Even though the police spokesperson had refused to speculate about any connection between the break-in and Rhodes’s death, it was clear to me that the two events had to be related. It didn’t make sense any other way. I was sure the police had come to the same conclusion and didn’t want to release that fact to the press.
But the murderer—I finally was able to use that word, if only to myself—the murderer had to have a powerful motive to return to the scene of the crime and risk getting caught. Unless…unless it was someone who had a perfectly reasonable explanation for being there, like Sheila. No, that wouldn’t work. Sheila was there every day. If she wanted to look for something, she had all day, every day, to do it. There was no need for her to break in.
Then there was Grace. Hmm. That one needed some more thou
ght. But I just couldn’t picture her as a burglar.
I knew I needed to find Jim and Larry right away and tell them about the break-in, in case they hadn’t seen the news article in today’s paper. I started to punch in Jim’s cell number. Then, my hand froze. It suddenly occurred to me that this break-in was, pardon the pun, a lucky break for us. If everyone agreed that the same person who was responsible for Rhodes’s death was also the person who broke into the Center, then Jim was one hundred percent in the clear. Because while the break-in was happening, Jim and Jenny and I were sitting at our dining room table with one of the policemen on the case. Jim had an ironclad alibi for this one.
I couldn’t wait to share the good news with Jim. I tried his cell phone but my call went into his voicemail. I decided not to leave any message, remembering the trouble a voice mail message had caused on my own cell phone. That was another loose end I needed to figure out. Where the hell did I lose my cell phone, and who’d found it and sent it to the police?
Priorities, Carol, priorities. First, find Jim. Then, think about the cell phone.
I quickly dialed Claire. We hadn’t spoken since she and Larry had gotten back from the Berkshires.
“I have so much to tell you,” I said, cutting her off before she could barrage me with questions. “But I have to reach Larry right away. I know he’s with Jim. It’s really important. Did you see this morning’s paper?” I took a deep breath and then asked, “Am I babbling again? I’m sorry. But I have to reach them right now. After I do, I’ll call you back and bring you up-to-date. Promise.”
Claire laughed. “We’ve been friends since before puberty. I’m used to your babbling by now, although you don’t do it nearly as much as Nancy does. Larry was going to meet Jim at the Marathon Diner, because it’s close to the train station. He always keeps his cell on. Call him, and then, for God’s sake, call me back and tell me what’s going on.” She rattled off the number and I’m embarrassed to admit that I didn’t even say thank you to her. I just hung up and immediately dialed Larry.
