Writing a Wrong Page 7

  Mikey wanted out of the stroller and I went to grab one of the high chairs. Rex LaPorte was behind the counter and he looked up as I pulled the wooden chair off the stack. ‘Did we have a meeting set?’ he asked with a concerned look.

  ‘No. I’m just here as a customer,’ I said. His face relaxed.

  ‘There’s so much going on, I forget about appointments. Just a recommendation, try the beet and spinach salad. It’s a new item and my creation.’ I thanked him and took the high chair back to our table. LaPorte’s was my dream kind of client. I liked the place and it seemed like they would be easy to deal with. I looked forward to tasting the different dishes and writing up descriptions. There was heart in the story how an unemployed teacher created a recipe that ended up being the foundation for a business. And now her children and their children were taking it into something more.

  Sara was tussling with Mikey when I returned with the high chair. She was trying to hold him and he wanted to get loose. He took one look at the high chair and started to cry. ‘Could you do the ordering. Get me anything and get him the kid’s grilled cheese. And coffee, lots of coffee,’ she said.

  I was glad I’d agreed to come along, imagining what it would have been like if she was there alone. Rex wasn’t behind the counter when I returned to place the order, but I did keep his salad in mind. He’d already told the helper that I was working for them and my food should be comped. I took care of Sara and Mikey’s. It was the least I could do after all the plates she’d sent up to me, even if they were a ploy for Ben to spend time there.

  Mikey was back in the stroller when I returned to the table. ‘His choice,’ Sara said, rolling her eyes at her son. At the moment he looked like the perfect kid. A warm beam of sunlight highlighted his tousled strawberry-blond hair. The longish locks framed his chubby cheeks and he was looking around the restaurant with a happy smile.

  ‘The food will be here shortly,’ I said, setting down two mugs of coffee. She gazed at the mug like it was a magic elixir and was drinking it before I had pulled out my chair.

  ‘I have to do everything on the run. I can’t wait until he gets old enough to understand how to stay put while Mommy takes a shower.’ She gave Mikey a quick look and he was still content in the stroller and rubbing his eyes. She blew out her breath in relief. ‘He’s going to sleep,’ she whispered. I leaned closer, and sure enough his eyes were on the verge of closing and then did. ‘He’s out,’ she said and her whole body relaxed.

  The food arrived and we put it in the middle to share. Sara changed when she was away from Mikey or, like this, when he was asleep. She went back to being herself. We divvied up the food. In addition to the veggie wrap sandwich, and the spinach and beet salad we’d ordered, Rex had added a curry vegetable salad for me to taste. They’d included a list of the ingredients. Mikey’s food got pushed to the side.

  ‘I heard you in the hall yesterday with a man,’ she said, as she stabbed a hunk of beet and tidbit of blue cheese. ‘Anybody I know?’

  ‘Oh,’ I said. I thought I’d been stealthy enough to get upstairs unnoticed. There was no reason not to tell her the truth. ‘It was a cop, a detective, who was asking about a client of mine.’

  ‘Really,’ she said, leaning a little closer. ‘Which one?’

  I hesitated. I was still trying to deal with the fact that Ted was dead. I had to keep reminding myself his real name wasn’t Tony. The whole thing creeped me out and I wanted to push it from my mind, but at the same time I needed to talk about it.

  ‘I never told you about this one. I knew him as Tony, but it turns out his real name is Ted,’ I said. I told her how he’d been coming to my place. Then she asked what he looked like.

  ‘I think I know who you mean. Real good looking in a black wool overcoat. I’ve seen him in the hall a few times. He always paused and smiled at me.’ She stopped and appeared embarrassed. ‘I hate to sound so needy, but the way he looked at me made me forget I had orange juice on my shirt, and for a moment I felt like Cinderella.’

  ‘I understand. I fell for the smile too, even though he was a little too perfect for me. I’m more into the flawed type.’

  ‘Then Ben’s just right for you,’ she said quickly. ‘He can’t seem to get past his divorce and he has a hard time showing emotion.’

  I let out a sigh, thinking how glad I was that she didn’t know my arrangement with her brother. ‘I suppose those would count as flaws, but since we’re just friends, it’s not an issue.’

  ‘Friends?’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘When are the two of you going to wake up and see you belong together?’ When I didn’t answer, she gave up and went back to asking about my client.

  ‘I get it. I’m wasting my breath. So, what did the detective want?’

  Mikey was sound asleep in the stroller, making it easy to talk. I was feeling a little light-headed as I thought back to the cop’s visit, and the background of the restaurant kind of blurred out.

  ‘He’s dead,’ I said, and Sara gasped.

  ‘Was it a heart attack or something like that?’ she asked.

  I shook my head and swallowed hard. ‘The detective didn’t give any details, but mentioned foul play, which is a toned-down way to say murder.’

  Sara gasped again. ‘It’s just so shocking.’ My neighbor seemed to be trying to process the situation. ‘The detective was just looking for background information, right?’ she said.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said, thinking back to his comment about not leaving town.

  ‘He can’t think you had anything to do with it.’ Sara seemed indignant. ‘What sort of work did you do for Ted?’ she asked.

  ‘He hired me to write some love letters.’

  ‘That guy needed someone to write love letters for him?’ She seemed incredulous. ‘He was charm personified.’ She appeared uncomfortable. ‘It never occurred to me that he was on his way to your place. I just assumed he was going to the new people who bought the place across the hall from you. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but getting a smile from him kind of made my day.’ She looked down at herself. ‘For a moment I felt like a person, instead of just Mikey’s mom.’

  ‘He said he traveled a lot and he wanted to make sure his girlfriend knew he was thinking of her.’

  She checked on Mikey and saw that he was still asleep and took a sip of her coffee. ‘I wonder what happened.’ She turned to me. ‘What about the person the letters were for?’

  I shook my head and shrugged. ‘I don’t know anything about her. Not even her name. He always had me use something like “dearest” or “my angel”. He picked up the letters and handled the delivery, so I have no idea where she lived or for that matter where he lived. The client is always right, so I went along with all of it. I had a cell-phone number for him and that’s all. He was vague about where he lived and said he was staying somewhere temporarily while his condo was being remodeled. He never explained why he traveled a lot. He told me to write the kind of letter I would like to receive. Lately, he’d still wanted some letters, but also a lot of short notes she could get daily while he was gone. I think they’d made a commitment or were going to.’ I shrugged again, inwardly berating myself for how little I knew.

  ‘Wow. His poor lady friend.’ Sara stopped and her eyes widened. ‘Unless she’s the one who did it.’

  ‘I’d say she was the most likely suspect, but since I know so little about his life, there’s no way to tell if that’s true. I don’t know if the detective believed me when I said I had no information about him.’ As I said it to Sara I realized that he probably didn’t.

  Sara’s face softened and she reached across the table and gave my arm a reassuring pat. ‘There’s no way you could have known what was going to happen to him,’ she said.

  ‘That’s true, but now I’m regretting that I was operating in the dark.’

  ‘You should talk to Ben. You don’t want the cops pinning a murder on you. He knows how cops operate. He’s supposed to come over tonight. I’ll send him
up.’

  I chuckled in amazement. She never missed an opportunity to throw us together. I was doubly glad she didn’t know that Ben and I were practicing to be each other’s plus one. Even though I longed to tell her about what a hero he’d been at the fondue restaurant.

  It was useless to argue with her, so I simply agreed.

  EIGHT

  I sat staring at my computer screen, trying to imagine what my fictional detective Derek Streeter would do if I gave him the case. Sara and I had stayed at LaPorte’s until Mikey woke up. It was such a treat for her to have time to drink coffee, eat and talk uninterrupted, that I gladly sat there even though I was anxious to get home. Mikey made up for the peaceful time by being cranky on the whole walk home. I felt bad for Sara when they went into her place, and guiltily grateful that I could escape to the quiet of my apartment. Rocky appeared as soon as I came in. He always seemed so happy to see me and I realized how empty my place had been before he’d moved in. He was truly a companion and followed me into my office, jumping on the burgundy chair as I went to my desk.

  The cursor was blinking, making me nervous as I continued to look at the screen hoping an answer would appear. Suddenly it was like Derek was talking to me, telling me that I knew more than I thought. Great, my imaginary detective had thrown me a puzzle. Since he was me, I took it as my unconscious tossing me the clue.

  I kept getting a mental image of my smartphone and finally went to get it to see if actually looking at it would trigger something. I glanced over the screen at all the apps and then the clue popped out at me. I’d done a mobile deposit with the check that Ted had given me which meant I still had it. The bank had said to keep it for five days, but I’d never disposed of it. I thumbed through the side drawer until I found it. The detective had just waved the copy of it in front of my face and I hadn’t had a chance to study it. Now I went over it carefully. It said TR Enterprises, the address was a post-office box and the phone number was the cell number he’d given me. I looked at his handwriting and it was eerily precise. My eye went back to the post-office box number and noted that the zip code was one of the two in Hyde Park. The particular zip code had a limited commercial area on 55th and 53rd. I was sure the post-office box was in one of those places that did shipping and had office services. Finally the computer came in handy, and I typed in what I wanted and waited to see what would come up. There was a MailBox Biz Center on 53rd that I’d never noticed before. I decided my best shot to get information was if I went in person, so I threw on my jacket and went out.

  On the way there, I practiced what I would say. I already knew that they would have required a physical address to rent him the post-office box. I just had to get them to give it to me.

  By the time I got to the place, I was ready with my story. It was a small storefront with the post-office boxes and a display of shipping supplies in the front and everything else behind a counter. A youngish man was in the back with an older man who I assumed was the owner. I watched them for a few minutes while examining the shipping supplies. It quickly became clear the younger man was new and having some trouble taking in all the instructions he was getting from the owner. I didn’t need Derek to tell me who I had the best shot with. I was considering how I would manage to get the younger man to wait on me when luck struck and the older man left to get some lunch.

  As soon as the door shut behind him, I moved to the counter and put on my best smile. ‘I wonder if you could help me,’ I said. ‘My aunt has a post-office box here. She’s having her appendix out even as we speak. I came in from out of town to take care of her dog Trixie while she’s laid up, but I realized when I got here that the only address I had was her post-office box. So could you give me her address?’ I took some breaths, hoping it made me seem worried and concerned. The kid looked at me and seemed uncertain.

  ‘Mr Orwell didn’t cover that,’ he said. ‘Maybe you should wait until he comes back.’

  ‘I suppose I could wait, but poor Trixie hasn’t had her meds. My aunt said that the poor dog has seizures if she doesn’t get them on time.’ I threw my best pleading look at the kid and he shrugged.

  ‘There’s nothing to say that we have to keep addresses secret,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t want Trixie to miss her meds.’ I gave him the post-office box number. A few moments later, I walked out of the place with my first clue in hand.

  The red-brick high-rise was a few blocks from my place. But any plans of nosing around were killed when I saw the cop cars parked out front. I’d have to come back another time. Deflated, I turned to go home. 57th Street had a parade of foot traffic between the people employed at the university getting off from work and students ready to do something on a Friday evening.

  I’d barely taken off my jacket when there was a rap on my front door.

  True to her word, Sara had sent Ben upstairs, and not empty-handed either.

  ‘Pizza?’ I said, looking at the plate in his hand.

  ‘Yes, homemade and, take it from me, delicious. She did a whole number on me telling me that you and I could share the pizza while we discussed your situation.’

  ‘Then she told you,’ I said with a sigh.

  ‘I told you that guy didn’t pass the smell test,’ he said, coming inside.

  ‘You did say that, didn’t you,’ I said, closing the door. ‘I hope you’re not going to give me a lecture because I already feel bad enough that I got charmed by him and now I’m in the middle of a murder investigation.’

  He stood at the entrance to the hall. ‘Where should we have the pie? Dining room or living room?’

  We usually spent our time in my living room, but I’d always been the only one eating. I pointed back to the dining room. ‘I could make a salad to go with it,’ I offered.

  He chuckled. ‘I guess to a vegetarian, no meal is complete without a bunch of veggies.’

  He followed me to the back and I turned on the oven to keep the pizza hot while I made my version of the chopped vegetable salad I’d had at LaPorte’s.

  ‘I’ll set the table,’ he said as I came into the kitchen. By now he knew his way around it and found everything on his own.

  ‘Do you want something to drink?’ Before I could offer him the cooking wine, he’d pulled a bottle of beer out of his pocket.

  ‘I’m covered. Sparkling water for you?’ he asked.

  ‘That’s it,’ I said. ‘The kind of thing we need to do when we operate as each other’s plus one.’ I looked at the brand of the beer in his hand. ‘I’ll know you like Coors.’

  ‘Do you have a preference for sparkling water?’ he asked.

  I shrugged. ‘Just as long as it has bubbles. But knowing it’s my drink of choice ought to be enough. We’ll still have to figure out some gestures. We can do another reconnaissance to see what we notice.’

  ‘Sure,’ he said as he carried my drink into the dining room. I brought in the pizza and salad and we sat down.

  For a few minutes we just passed food around and began to eat. Sara did make great pizza and Ben admitted my salad made him like vegetables.

  ‘OK,’ he began. ‘Sara told me a scattershot of what happened. The guy is a victim of a homicide and a detective showed up to talk to you. Why don’t you tell me the whole story?’ He’d gone into cop mode. I suppose it was natural for him to take on that tone, particularly when he was asking about something connected to a crime. Even so, I mentioned it.

  ‘You can stand down,’ I said, trying to get him to soften his demeanor.

  ‘Sorry, force of habit. The job takes over. My wife used to complain that it was like I was in uniform even when I was in my pajamas.’

  ‘You wear pajamas?’ I said with a smile. ‘I didn’t see you as a pajama sort of guy.’

  ‘Pajamas is probably the wrong word. It’s more like a T-shirt with some random bottoms.’ He shook his head in disbelief at the topic of conversation. ‘You were about to tell me what happened.’

  I told him about Detective Jankowski’s visit. ‘Do you thin
k I’m a suspect? He did say that thing about not leaving town.’

  ‘He probably just meant they might want to talk to you again. As for being a suspect, he was probably looking to see how you were connected to the guy. Did he ask you what you did for him?’

  I nodded and said I’d told him the truth. Ben raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Probably not something he expected to hear.’

  ‘I couldn’t really tell since he didn’t show much reaction. He wanted to know who the letters were sent to, but I couldn’t help him since Tony, I mean Ted, took care of the delivery and used terms of endearment instead of names.’ Ben and I had finished eating by then and I suggested we continue our conversation in the living room over coffee.

  I set the tray of coffee things on the low table as he sat on the couch. I took the wing chair.

  ‘How did you end up with that guy as a client?’ Ben asked.

  It took me a moment to remember it all. ‘He said that he’d seen me on the PBS show explaining how I’d helped the couple – whose engagement party we’re going to – find their happily ever after. The article led him to my website. He sent me an email, but wanted to meet in person to discuss what he wanted. The problem was that he traveled a lot and his girlfriend felt neglected. He really cared for her and was afraid she was going to break things off. He wanted something that would make her realize how much he was thinking about her even when he was away. It sounded good to me,’ I said with a shrug. ‘I asked him to tell me about the woman, but it was pretty general. She was wonderful, successful, beautiful, all like that. He didn’t offer much about himself.’ I thought back to that meeting and realized I’d fallen under his spell. The smile, the looks and the way he touched my arm when we talked. I wasn’t about to share that with Ben. It was so not like me, but there was something about Tony that totally sucked me in.

  ‘What was he doing at your place?’ Ben asked.