“I wouldn’t know sir, but—it is very late.”
“It is? How late is it?”
“Past midnight, sir.”
Giles flung the car door aside and gasped. “Oh, no. Oh, no.”
Something told Rocco to wait until Giles opened the massive front door. True, the dark house concerned him, almost as much as the impulsive detour to the Hotel Charlotte. But, Felicity’s frenzied phone call alarmed him in an inexplicable fashion. Less than an hour ago, Felicity confided to him that, earlier that evening, she called Mr. Dingwerth about an emergency concerning Mrs. Dingwerth’s condition. His lackadaisical reaction made her very nervous. What if, say, Mrs. Dingwerth went into a coma? One can only do so much, thought Rocco, though he didn’t say this to Felicity. In fact, he couldn’t recall what he had advised her to do. His thoughts were interrupted. Giles raced to the car as if his feet were on fire.
“Hurry, Rocco!” Giles’ voice sounded hoarse and frightened. “Get me to Ivymount Medical Center. Fast!”
“Hospital? Why?” Rocco suspected he knew the reason only too well, but this was no time for speculation.
“Felicity left a note on the front door, which by the way, I’ve instructed her never to do. June went to Ivymount Medical Center, by ambulance.” He buried his head in his trembling hands. “Oh God, how could I?”
“Could you what, sir?”
“Drive, Rocco. Just drive. Now please, no more talking.”
Rocco stared straight ahead and just drove. If he concentrated, he could probably make Ivymount Medical Center in less than fifteen minutes. Mr. Dingwerth didn’t need to worry. He had no intention of talking.
Gabby decided to wait with Dan. It was the least she could do, she reasoned. After all, she needed to justify what she knew she was going to do with her fresh “scoop.” After all, she was, first and foremost, a reporter, and she had a job to do. Still, she liked to think she had a humane side to her persona. And so, she would wait; at least until his wife or some other interested party whom she would definitely be interested in, appeared on the scene. Where were the guy’s, uh, friends?
A couple of seconds later, she wished she hadn’t asked that question. Bunny appeared in all her glory, clad in a powder pink sweat suit. Fuzzy white pompoms adorned her hooded sweatshirt. She was wearing white plastic sunglasses, and her lips were slicked with white frosted lip-gloss.
One swift look at Gabby and her frosted mouth froze in a pout. “Who are you?” she said, whisking away the sunglasses. Gabby noticed the fury lurking in those lined emerald eyes. Without waiting for an answer, Bunny forged ahead with her interrogation. “Don’t tell me,” she raged, throwing her white Prada purse on a nearby chair, “you are the reason Danny didn’t come home tonight.” She took a step toward Gabby. “Am I right?”
Gabby grinned. This was going to be such a good story! “I don’t believe we’ve met. And, before you say another word, you really should know who I am. Just so you don’t make a big mistake.”
“Mistake? It looks to me like you’re the one who made the big mistake. Who are you?”
“I am Gabrielle Knowes. You know, the Gateway Gabette? It’s the local gossip column. Everybody who is anybody reads it. You may have heard of it—or not. Everybody calls me Gabby, so I guess you can, too, Bubbly.”
“Who do you think you are, talking to me like that? Do you want to know who I am? I am Bunny Dingwerth Hunter. My father owns Dingwerth Distinctive Designs. And Danny works for him. He’s Vice-President in charge of, of…um, Danny? Just look at him, all banged up like that. Well, he’s in charge of something. Daddy knows what. So, don’t try to impress me, Gumby.”
“It’s Gabby. By the way, I believe your father and I have already met.”
“Well, stay away from my husband, whoever you are. We are very happily married.” Bunny’s eyes narrowed. “You know, I’ve suspected there was something going on for awhile now, so how do you like that? I know all about you now, so get lost. There’s nothing more for us to talk about.”
Gabby grabbed her purse and smoothed her rumpled clothes. Well, she’d tried. Even as she walked to her car, though, she grinned. She couldn’t help herself. Bunny Dingwerth Hunter couldn’t have been more wrong about her father, and her marriage and her Danny. Rest assured, Bunny, there is so much more to talk about-and talking is what I do best.
Eight
Beneath a blanket of twinkling stars, Dan slumped beside her. Gliding along the deserted highway, Bunny drove her white BMW, headed for her perfect larger house. Dan felt drowsy, to be sure. His temples throbbed. The real tension, however, pulsed between husband and wife. What, asked Bunny, did Danny have to say for himself, hmmm?
Dan really didn’t want to have this conversation, not with Bunny… not now, not ever. For one thing, Bunny was just too shallow, too naïve, too silly, to ever begin to grasp what he felt when he was with Leila. He didn’t even know if he could explain how he felt when Leila looked at him, or oh, when she touched him! One glance at Bunny, gazing straight ahead at the straight, dark stretch of road, white plastic sunglasses framing her eyes, and he absolutely knew one thing. He sure didn’t understand his wife.
“Danny,” she said with a chirp, “answer me. I know you’re not asleep over there.”
Dan tried to straighten his back. His body ached everywhere, in places he didn’t know existed, until now. Okay, here goes. “Bunny, can’t this thing wait?”
“No!” Her voice bordered on a screech. Her sneaker-clad feet jammed on the brake, and Dan’s neck jerked. “Danny, I know all about her.”
Dan felt a cold sweat on his clammy forehead. How in the…
“But Danny, it’s not your fault.”
Oh good. For a split second, Dan felt calm.
And then…
“Because I know how pushy women can be.”
“You do?”
“Well yes. Sometimes, I’m paying attention.” Again, she jammed on the brakes. The driver in back of her blared his horn in protest. Bunny giggled. “Ooops. Anyway, I took care of it and you don’t ever have to worry about that woman bothering you again.”
“What, uh…what did you do?”
“Why, I had a word with her. She knows who I am now, believe me. And do you know, she had the nerve to tell me she knew Daddy too?”
“She did? I mean…she does?”
“Yes. But, don’t worry. She won’t bother you anymore.” The brakes squealed, and she peeled into the driveway of her perfect larger house. “Danny, I’ve been thinking.” She removed her sunglasses and stared into his bloodshot eyes. “I want us to have a baby.”
A thousand thoughts whirled through Dan’s mind. In his groggy condition, he never thought to ask where Bunny had encountered the mysterious “her” that he no longer needed to fear. It never occurred to him that his wife could have been referring to anyone other than Leila. Leila was the only woman he ever thought about, anyway. Wait, what did Bunny say about a baby?
They couldn’t have a baby! Leila was the woman he wanted to be with, not Bunny. Not Bunny and Bunny Baby. Now, he was so confused. This had not been his Plan. His head throbbed with fatigue, but he had to think-fast.
Looking back, he would suppose that this was the moment he decided to kill his wife. As she prattled on about her pregnant friends and her wannabe pregnant friends, Dan decided. It wasn’t fair. Bunny didn’t deserve to die. He wouldn’t ever say that. But, it was the only way out, the only way to get, indeed, to keep, what he wanted. Nothing was going to stand in the way of his happiness with Leila Bolivar. Now, at last, he could sleep.
Once again, he had a Plan.
“Where were you?” Felicity asked.
Rocco felt weary, especially of nosy questions. How much should he tell her? Or perhaps a better question would be, how much did she already know? The frazzled woman lingered in the drafty hospital corridor. The high ceilings and extra wide halls of Ivymount Medical Center dwarfed her petite stature and indeed, her significance. Would this night
never end?
“I was looking for you—and trying to find out something about Mrs. Dingwerth—but, they wouldn’t tell me anything besides her room number. Do you know anything?” A quick glance in the direction of Mrs. Dingwerth’s hospital room told him she didn’t want visitors. The white enameled door remained closed.
“Want to get some coffee?” she said.
Rocco nodded. “We have a few minutes, I guess. Mr. Dingwerth just got here. I saw a lounge at the end of the hall. Let’s go.”
Felicity looked relieved. “Okay. I could sure use a break, I’m telling you. My back is aching so bad you don’t know. Mrs. Dingwerth fell, and I had to lift her by myself. I wasn’t sure I could do it.”
“She fell?” Rocco strolled briskly beside her.
“Sí. And, I could not wake her. That’s when I called Mr. Dingwerth.” She shook her head. “But, it was too bad. He wouldn’t come. So, I ask you now, Rocco. Where were you? What I mean is, where did you take Mr. Dingwerth tonight?”
The lounge resembled a doctor’s waiting room, with its collection of straight backed vinyl chairs and outdated magazines. A murky blend of Lysol and steamed food hung in the stale air. Felicity and Rocco stared at the coffee pot, filled with thick brown sludge that had been simmering for hours.
“None for me,” was all Felicity could say.
“Me neither,” Rocco said.
“You didn’t answer my question. Where did you take him?”
Ah, the moment of truth. Or was it? His reluctance to speak seemed to speak for itself.
Felicity laughed. “You too, eh? Did he ask you not to tell anyone? Of course he did. It’s okay. I know who she is.”
“You do?”
“Sí. Mr. Dingwerth has brought her to the house to that guest bedroom in the west wing.”
“I thought that part of the house was closed off.”
Felicity winked. “It is, except when it isn’t.”
“Oh. How long has he been doing this, eh?”
“Six months? Seven? I don’t know. Tell me something. How did he meet her?”
“This, I know,” Rocco snickered. “It was at the Cinnabar Club. She came one night to meet a man who never showed up. Mr. Dingwerth was a lucky man; or, should I say, is a lucky man.
Felicity studied the closed door and sighed. “Is he?”
Behind the white enameled door, amid the antiseptic smells, the sucking, draining tubes and the starched white sheets, cleverly stamped with “Ivymount” in faded black ink across the hem, Giles did not feel, um, lucky. As he sat clasping June’s clammy blue-veined hand in his own bear-like grip, he realized one thing with absolute clarity. He would never quit seeing Leila Bolivar, because very simply, he couldn’t. He craved her like he hungered for food and air to breathe. Whatever it took, whatever the cost, he would bear it. He was her captive slave.
“So, Giles, is it?” Dr. Hart saidasked peering over his half glasses. “Haven’t seen you in quite awhile. Been playing a lot of golf, have you?” The chubby man chortled at his own joke.
Giles did not appear to be amused. “No doctor, I have not been playing a lot of golf. My work is my obsession.”
“Really?” The doctor set his clipboard on a chipped windowsill, and removed his glasses. “You know, that’s not what your wife tells me.”
Giles could feel his face flush a bright red. Well, there was nothing he could do about it. “What are you implying?”
“I am implying nothing. I’m going to be quite straight with you. Your wife suspects you have a mistress.”
“How dare you!”
“I am simply doing my job. Besides, you should know what your wife’s thoughts are, don’t you agree? It is also my duty to inform you that June is not well at all.”
“Exactly what are you saying?”
“I am saying, she can’t keep repeating these dastardly dietary indiscretions, she must take her medications on time, and she must reduce her stress levels. Or you, my friend, are not going to have a wife much longer. Tell me, does that grave possibility concern you?”
“Are you finished?”
Dr. Hart snatched his clipboard and glanced at the dozing patient. “Yes, I’m afraid I am.” He shook his head. “Women. Studies in contradiction, I’m afraid. There’s no understanding them.” He was almost out the door when Giles stopped him.
“Doctor?”
A quizzical look answered his question. “You said something back there that quite bothered me. It was something about, well, about a mistress.”
Dr. Hart’s mouth turned up at the corners. “I think we both know what that is.”
Giles’ shoulders slumped in submission. To agree would have been suicide. He could see that. “Yes,” was all he said. “Thank you for seeing June.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Dingwerth,” Dr. Hart said. “Please, for everyone’s sake, be careful.”
With a bang, the white enameled door slammed. Giles turned to focus on June. Beneath the harsh florescent lights, her thin skin ravaged by advanced age and poor health, he found it impossible to recall how she had once looked when she was young; that is, until he remembered Bunny. Bunny! He had forgotten to call Bunny. Should he tell her about June? Yes, of course he should. He should call her right this minute, he should—
“Daddy!”
Giles whirled around to see his perky, blond daughter. Even at two o’clock in the morning, Bunny looked perky.
“What are you doing here?” was what they both said.
“You go first, Bunns,” Giles said. “Did you come to see Mommy?”
“I suppose I didn’t. Well, maybe I did, but I didn’t know I did.” Bunny darted a sideways glace at her mother. Tears welled in her eyes. “Is Mommy sick?”
The simple-minded question puzzled Giles, though he didn’t realize he had asked a rather obvious one himself. “I don’t know, Bunny. Well, I mean, I know why I came here. Or did you already know?”
Bunny leaned her head to one side and frowned. “What did you say?”
“It’s nothing. Tell me, did you ever hear from Daniel? I’ve been running about all night searching for him. Where on earth could he have gone?”
Again, tears flowed from Bunny’s mascara-smudged eyes. “That’s why I came looking for you. I stopped by the big house first, and that’s when I saw Felicity’s note. Oh Daddy! I have something so bad to tell you and Mommy.”
“Dear God, is Daniel dead?”
Bunny shook her head. Her golden ponytail wagged from side to side. “Right now, I wish he were,” she said, just before her tears exploded into a full-blown crying jag.
“Bunnykins, what on earth?”
“Danny’s cheating on me, Daddy!”
“What did you just say?” A furtive backwards glance at his comatose wife preceded his next remark. “How can you be so sure?”
Bunny blew her cute nose on a piece of powder pink tissue. Then, with a whimper, she blinked back her tears to compose herself. “I’m not stupid. Sometimes I think Danny doesn’t think I’m paying attention, and sometimes, well, sometimes I’m not, but sometimes I am. And Daddy, women have a sixth sense about cheating men. I know I do. I must have gotten it from Mommy, don’t you think?”
At this sudden confession, Giles felt a sudden jolt—a vile mix of fear, and guilt, but worst of all, deception—from his own daughter. Why or even how he managed to face June’s ghostly countenance at this moment, he couldn’t have said. But at this moment, he did so. What exactly was Bunny trying to tell him? Exactly how much did Junebug know? But, he decided, enough of that kind of speculation. Now, he must get back to Daniel.
“Bunns,” Giles said in a muffled whisper, “if you really think Daniel is cheating, do you know who she is?” For some incomprehensible reason, he found himself holding his breath. Why, he couldn’t have said.
“Oh yes, Daddy.” Bunny’s blond head bobbed up and down with conviction. “It’s that redheaded reporter, Gabby Knowes.”
Giles vaguely remembered her
. Such a nuisance she was. Still, he breathed a sigh of relief. No one suspected Leila, or so it seemed. No one except Rocco, but he trusted Rocco with his life. Besides Rocco, no one was the wiser, no matter what Dr. Hart said. His secret remained safe.
In his heart of hearts, that secret dictated his every thought, his every action. He lived in fear of the day when some busybody—like Gabby Knowes—discovered their affair-because then, it would have to end. The Junebug simply couldn’t endure it. Wait a minute…
No, he had this all wrong. In fact, his worst fear was that Leila would leave him for a younger, better looking man. That would be so humiliating. He simply couldn’t endure it. Of course, he wouldn’t tolerate such shabby treatment. It would have to end.
He stared at his snoring wife. How many times had June cheated Death? Frankly, he’d lost count. If he lost Leila, he would surely die before the Junebug. Right after he killed the younger, better looking man, that is.
Nine
“You’d better go now, Felicity,” Rocco said. His alert, dark eyes seemed riveted on the closed white enameled door.
Felicity arched a penciled eyebrow in askance. “The Mr. Dingwerth, I don’t think he knows you’re here.”
“So?”
“So, maybe you should go before he sees you.”
“Why?” Rocco sighed in exasperation. “Dios mío,” he said under his breath. Would this night never end? Again, he thought, how much did Felicity know?
The door opened, and Giles tiptoed into the hall. Rocco couldn’t comprehend the reason for his tentative demeanor. But, that wasn’t all that puzzled him. Although Mr. Dingwerth seemed genuinely glad to see Felicity, there was something intangible that eluded him. Rocco would have bet his rosary that Felicity and Mr. Dingwerth shared some private secret; a certain something even he, Rocco, did not know of—yet. He could feel it in the air. What did they know?
“Ah, Felicity, thank the heavens,” Giles said. He opened his arms to embrace her in a ritual hug. “I don’t know what we would have done without you to assist my poor, helpless wife. I want you to know how much I appreciate it.”
Crazy for You Page 6
