Vivian nodded, lowering her voice. “Yes. She’s told everyone she knows that he’s in various Asian countries. She’s faked phone calls with him. And it’s been going on for ten years, far as I can see. She admitted it to both of us on the boat. Said she killed him for um, having relations with a parlor maid.”
Detective Warren’s eyebrows rose. “Is that right?”
Cody wandered over to her side. “That’s what she told us today, Detective. It’s all in my statement.”
A shrill laugh came from Uvi, who tossed back her hair and glared under furrowed brows at Vivian.
The detective pursed his lips. “Let me have a word with Officer Pierce.” He nodded to the uniformed black woman who still sat with Uvi, scribbling on a pad. “We’ll compare notes and decide what to do next.”
“Detective,” Vivian said in a hushed whisper. “She threatened to kill us. And she nearly succeeded.”
He grunted and stood. “I heard you two the first time. But we may have to address her mental state, if you know what I mean.”
Officer Monroe, a rookie blond cop with a crew cut and washboard abs, had done a quick search of the house. He joined them. “You mean she might have to go to a psych ward?”
Detective Warren nodded. “It’s possible. From the way these folks described her behavior, she could be losing it. Stress, like this hurricane we just suffered through, can cause a lot of problems in people. Sometimes it really messes them up for a while.”
Cody knew the woman had gone off the deep end before trying to kill them, but she’d always seemed sane before that. Mean. Surly at times. But sane.
Maybe the hurricane had brought it out of her? She’d been worrying, wondering where Vivian and he were. She’d had no lights. Maybe she hadn’t eaten or slept much. It could have pushed her over the edge.
Then again, he thought. Maybe she’d been completely sane when she murdered her husband a decade ago.
The landline rang, and Vivian automatically reached for the heavy black relic on the side table. “Polansky Residence.”
“Who is this?” an annoyed male voice asked.
Vivian replied. “I’m Miss Wood, Mrs. Polansky’s assistant.”
The stentorian voice sighed. “Of course you are. Well, Miss Wood, this is Jeremiah Polansky. Tell Uvi I want to speak to her.”
“Who?”
“Jeremiah Polansky. I own The Seacroft, inside whose hallowed walls you are now standing. Put my ex on the line, for Christ’s sake.”
Vivian dropped the phone, letting it dangle on its cord. She backed up to the wall.
Cody and the Detective rushed to her side.
“What is it, Miss Wood?”
“It’s, uh. It’s someone claiming to be Mr. Polansky.”
Cody blanched. “What? Whoa. Mr. P?”
Vivian nodded. “Yes. He wants to speak to Uvi.”
Cody watched Uvi take the phone.
She casually removed her right earring, then pressed the receiver to her ear. “Hello?” She smiled as if all were right with the world. She listened for a few minutes, and then backed away with a horrified expression, dropping the old fashioned receiver. It was as if every string of fiber holding her aloft was cut in one swift motion. She crumpled to the ground, her face a gray mask.
Cody picked up the phone.
“Hello? Mr. Polansky? This is Cody. I’m the grounds keeper. Your wife has taken a bad turn. Are you in the United States, by any chance?”
“My ex-wife,” he snorted derisively. “Am I in the US? Of course I am. I live in Boston, for crying out loud.”
“What?” Cody hesitated. “Er. Sorry, sir. She said you were traveling abroad, for business.”
“Why am I not surprised?” He sighed over the line. “I divorced that nut case ten years ago, boy. And she’s still making up stories about me?”
“I. Er. I guess so. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“I just called to insist she stop telephoning in the middle of the night. I’m about to get a restraining order on her if she doesn’t stop. My wife is royally pissed.”
Cody regained control of himself. “I see.” He hesitated for a moment. “Uvi’s in trouble. She might need a lawyer.”
Mr. Polansky sighed. “Seriously? Now I have to pay her legal fees?”
“I’m not saying—”
“Damn her.” The man interrupted, growling his next words. “Not that I owe that bitch anything. She stays for free in that goddamned mausoleum… ” His voice trailed off. “What did she do? Is there someone in authority I can speak to?”
“Um. Yes, of course. Detective Warren’s here. I’ll let him explain it to you.”
“Put him on the phone.”
“Here you go.” Cody handed the phone to Warren, unsure why he’d advocated for the woman who’d just tried to kill Vivian and him. He turned when Viv appeared at his elbow.
“He’s alive? Mr. P is alive?”
Cody shrugged and smiled. “So he says. Guess he divorced her ten years ago.”
“What?” Vivian frowned. “That’s when Uvi claims to have drowned him.”
“Who knows? She may have fantasized about killing him so often she finally believes it.” Cody slung an arm around her, moving her away from their employer who still lay slumped on the ground. “Maybe that was her way of dealing with the rejection.”
“You sound like a therapist, Cody.” She rose on her toes to kiss his cheek. “But you could be right.”
Officer Pierce hunkered beside Uvi, helping her sit up. “Are you okay, Mrs. Polansky? Can I get you some water?”
Uvi smiled feebly. “Yes. Of course, I’m fine. I was just speaking to, ah, my husband. He’s on his way home. I need to make him a nice dinner.” She looked around wildly for a moment, taking in the sea of eyes watching her. “And now,” she stood with the woman’s help. “I just need to lie down for a moment. I’m feeling a bit wobbly. Would you mind escorting me to my room?”
Pierce shot a questioning glance at the detective. He nodded. “Okay for a few minutes. Take her upstairs, but keep a close eye on her.”
When Uvi and the policewoman began to ascend the stairs, the detective turned back to Cody and Vivian. “We are so short staffed right now. It’s putting a huge strain on the force. We’re still putting out virtual fires from the aftermath of Delilah. I’ve got people still being dug out of collapsed buildings, emergency power lines strung over mud holes a mile wide, hospital wards being set up in cafeterias… it’s a goddamned mess. I can’t go by our standard procedures here. Even our station house is shut down until they can confirm its stability. It got shaken up pretty badly by the tremors during the flood.” He swiped his hair back from his head. “Not that you need to know all this. Sorry. Regardless, this woman needs to be evaluated by a doctor in a safe place.” He opened his phone and scrolled through the contents. “Maybe I could get my old pal Doc Wheeler to stop over. He’s just a few streets down. If the hurricane didn’t get him, that is. Wheeler used to evaluate patients all the time for us, before the new doc took over.”
Cody and Vivian waited while Warren called the doctor, who apparently was available and willing to stop by. They watched Officer Pierce gently guide Uvi up the last few stairs to the landing.
“Now I feel sorry for her,” Vivian said.
Cody gave a low chuckle. “Me, too. Kinda. Especially since she’s not about to shoot my ass and drown me.”
Chapter 42
A half hour later, Viv heard the doorbell ring. From force of habit, she strode forward and opened it. A white-haired gentleman stood on the porch holding a beat-up leather satchel.
“Doctor Wheeler?”
“Yes,” he said in a smooth baritone voice. He held out a steady hand. “Pleased to meet you, young lady.”
“Thank you. You, too.” She shook his hand. “Please come in.”
With a nod to the detective, the doctor looked around. “So, where’s my patient?”
Det
ective Warren came closer, gesturing to the ceiling. “She’s upstairs, resting.”
“Uvi’s lost it,” Cody blurted out. “She tried to kill us, Doc. She held us at gunpoint. Was going to shoot us and throw us overboard out there.” He gestured toward the sea, his face graven. “And to tell you the truth, she almost got away with it.”
The doctor held up a hand. “I’ve heard the story, son. Warren here gave me the scoop. I’ll talk to her and give you my recommendation shortly.”
Vivian turned to the detective. “Shall I take him up?”
Detective Warren nodded. “Thanks. Officer Pierce is up there, too. She’ll stay with you while the Doc here questions Mrs. Polansky.”
Vivian had just started up the stairs when she heard a heavy thump overhead. Her brow furrowed, and she hurried up the stairs with the rest of the group close behind her. “Everything okay up here?” she called, expecting the policewoman to answer.
At the top of the landing, she saw a flash of white at the end of the hall, heading for the attic stairs. Skidding around the corner to Uvi’s bedroom, she found Officer Pierce lying on the floor next to a smashed lamp. “Detective Pierce? Oh, no. Doctor! Over here.”
Cody and the policemen arrived in the room seconds later. Monroe leaned down to check his partner, beckoning to the doctor who followed close behind. “She’s breathing.” He stepped aside to let Doc Wheeler bend over the unconscious woman.
Detective Warren swore and turned toward the hallway. “Where the hell did that woman go?”
Vivian pointed to the stairs, running beside him. “The attic. This way.”
They tromped up the narrow staircase, Vivian in the lead, but Warren closed in on her fast. “Move aside,” he said roughly, panting. “I need to go first.”
She stopped at the top of the landing, staring into the dusty dark air and fighting a nauseous feeling of déjà vu. She’d just been in an attic, where she’d almost lost her mother, and the damned building had dragged her down into the water where she’d almost died. If it hadn’t been for Cody… “The widow’s walk,” she said, pointing to the next set of stairs at the far end of the giant room. “There.”
Vivian stumbled around a dusty roll top desk, a seamstress’s mannequin, sealed cardboard boxes, and an old horsehair sofa covered with a yellowed sheet. “Over here.” She pointed to the narrow door at the bottom of the tiny staircase. It was open.
Warren flew up the stairs. Vivian followed, and Cody caught up with her halfway to the top.
“Viv, stop,” he said, pulling on her arm. “She’s dangerous.”
Vivian turned to him, breathing hard. “I know. But what if she… ”
The detective’s shout at the top of the stairway stopped her in her tracks.
“Stop right there! Don’t jump!”
They burst into the widow’s walk, met by a wild-eyed Uvi who crept backwards toward the edge. “Stay away!” she screamed. “Don’t come any closer.”
“Mrs. Polansky,” Warren began, slowly heading in her direction and trying to sound calm. “Please. Come back inside. It’s dangerous out here. Let’s have a nice cup of coffee and a chat. How’s that sound?”
Uvi sought Vivian’s eyes. “Vivian? Dear? I want to be buried in my cream dress. You know which one I mean?”
She stepped back, almost to the edge now.
Vivian slowly approached, her hands held low. “Do you mean the one with the cranberry jacket?”
Uvi cranked her head sideways again. “No! The one with the lacey collar.”
Vivian wrinkled her brow, still moving forward with Warren watching her like a hawk. “I think it’s at the cleaners, Uvi.”
Uvi shook her head. “No. It’s hanging in my clos—” Her eyes narrowed and she shot Vivian a grim smile. “I get it. You’re trying to stop—” She shrieked and slipped, tumbling beyond their view.
Cody and Warren crept forward on their stomachs. A faint cry came from below.
“Help!”
Vivian cried, “Where is she?”
Cody slithered back and pushed past her. “She’s on the first floor roof, two stories down. Hanging onto the gutter. I don’t know how long it’ll hold.”
They pounded down the staircase to the attic, then down again to the second floor, where Cody shoved open a window and stepped outside with the detective.
With his two officers still busy in the bedroom down the hall—one unconscious and the other helping the doctor—the detective assessed the situation with a grave expression. “Crap. Look at that roofline. It’s ready to crack.”
Cody’s blood ran cold. A six-foot section of the roof overhang flopped and swayed under Uvi’s weight, ready to break off any second.
Warren motioned to him. “Somebody light needs to climb out there.”
Cody glanced at the heavy-set detective. “Right. I’ll go. But we need a line.”
“Help me. Please!”
Cody looked wildly around him. “I need something to tie around me.”
Vivian caught up with them and motioned to the long, sheer drapes that hung above the window. “What about these? Could they work?”
“Good idea!” Cody ripped them down and tied them end-to-end. “Not long enough.” He ran to a matching window and repeated his actions. “This might work.” Circling his waist with the fabric, he handed the other end to Warren. “Secure this. And pull us up when I tell you I’ve got her.”
Warren commanded Vivian to tie one end of the line to the old-fashioned radiator bolted to the floor. “Stand here,” he said when she’d done so. “Hold on tight. Okay, Cody. Go for it.”
Vivian cried out the window. “Cody. Please be careful.”
He crept forward toward the edge. “I’m almost there,” he shouted, sliding on his stomach. “Uvi. Hold on.”
Uvi’s face was a mask of terror. Her mouth moved, but no words escaped her lips. Her fingers—white with pressure—clenched the edge of the gutter, which had separated from the roof by a foot and waved dangerously over the ground below. She struggled and pumped her legs in the air.
“Stop moving,” he cautioned. “You’ll make it worse. Try to hold still.”
She whimpered. “I can’t hold on.”
“Yes. You can. Uvi.” He caught her eyes with his. “Don’t let go. I’ve got you.”
With a fast swoop he reached down and latched his fingers around her wrist. “I’ve got you. Now let go with your other hand and grab me.” Sweat trickled down his face, plopping on the roof tiles beneath him. “Come on.”
He couldn’t reach her other hand, and she seemed frozen in place. He watched her eyes change, as if she were giving up, as if she’d let go.
“No! You stay with me. You take my other hand. Now.”
Tears welled in her eyes. She hesitated, still swinging beneath him. “Cody. I love you.” Her voice trembled.
He grunted, sliding forward a few more inches. The roof groaned and bounced with his movement. “Everybody loves me, Uvi. It’s just a curse I have to bear.” For a long minute, he didn’t know if his little joke would break the spell and bring her around, or if it would work against him.
Uvi’s eyes narrowed and her lips curled into a smile. She let go of the gutter, reaching for his other hand. “You’re one big, gorgeous tomcat, you know that.”
Cody strained to hold her, yelling over his shoulder to Warren and Viv. “Now! Pull me back, now.”
The sound of the tearing structure came before he felt the tremor, the jerk, and the free fall into air.
Chapter 43
“Cody!” Vivian hung on to the taut line of drapery, bracing herself behind Warren, who had been catapulted halfway into the window frame. The tie shivered and shook, but it didn’t come unbolted from the radiator on the floor. “Cody!” She screamed again, trying to see past the detective. “Oh my God. Is he okay?”
“Pull!” Warren said fiercely. “Just shut up and pull.”
She did as he said, leaning hard
against the strain, lowering herself to a crouch, then dragging herself to the nearby doorframe and holding on. It wasn’t working. She was being hauled with Warren toward the roof. Warren tipped forward, legs almost leaving the ground. He grunted, holding onto the windowsill.
“Monroe!” he shouted, frantic now. “Get in here.”
The blond youth careened around the corner, eyes wide. “Cripes!” He grabbed Warren’s legs and pulled him back. Slowly, the three of them drew in the line. Finally, sweating and groaning, they pulled Cody and Uvi into the safety of the hallway.
They both lay in a tumble on the floor. Unceremoniously, Uvi climbed up Cody’s body and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her legs encircled him, and she laid her head on his shoulder. “My hero,” she murmured, now kissing his ear and neck. One hand slid lower and she purred. She actually purred. “You saved my life. My darling boy.”
Vivian watched him scramble away from her, figuring he didn’t want her to grab his cock in front of all these people. She’d done that way too many times in the last day. With the way her mind was working today, she might have tried to have sex with him right in front of all the people who sat recovering in the hallway.
No way was that happening. Viv got up and launched herself into his arms. “Oh, Cody. You’re okay. I was so worried.”
Uvi scowled at her and tried to kick her foot.
Cody kissed Vivian hard, as if the adrenaline he’d just called upon needed an outlet. With a ridiculous thought, she wondered how he’d make love to her if they did it right now, in the next room. Would it be hard and fast, like the kiss? She told her mind to stop its musings, and kissed him back, pulling him into the nearby sunroom. No need to present an open target to Uvi anymore.
“You’re okay?” She checked his arms and legs, feeling him as if that would answer her question.
“I think so,” he said. “Except for having to flirt with Uvi out there to save her life.”
The Seacroft: a love story (Paines Creek Beach Book 2) Page 18
