(c) Copyright Mary Faderan 2017, 2019
"CHAPTER SIX
There was a cacophony of phones ringing in
the main detective office branch of the New Haven Police Department that Monday
morning. Nobody seemed to be answering the telephones that day until a man
wearing a brown leather jacket and dark slacks came out of the corner office
and bellowed, “Hell, does this always have to happen on a Monday morning?
Answer the goddamn phone, will somebody!” He glared at the inhabitants of the
main room before heading back into his office.
Almost immediately, the ringing sounds
stopped. A unison of male voices spoke, “NHPD, can I help you?”
One of the men looked around and motioned to
a tall young detective who was flipping through his notepad. “Yes, I see. Why
don’t I send over Detective Ripley and he can get the information from you
directly, all right?” The man hung up and leaned back in his chair. An unlit
cigar hung from the corner of his mouth. “Ripley, there’s a lady that called,
saying she thinks she saw someone at the Yale Gym when Levy was murdered.
Here’s the address. Name of Susanna Bacon.” He tossed the paper with the
address to Detective Ripley. “I doubt it will get us anything, but she sounded
kosher.”
“All right, sir.” Detective Ripley put the
paper in his coat pocket and headed out the door.
The man in the leather jacket came out of his
office. “Hey, Bill. I want to talk to you.”
The man who gave Detective Ripley Susanna
Bacon’s address gave a sigh and got up. He straightened his broad shoulders and
walked into the office.
“Morning, sir,” Detective Bill Gaddis said in
a mumble.
“Bill, I need to know what you know about
that Levy stabbing. Some folks at the Yale New Haven Hospital are calling for
results.” Inspector Ingraham looked up at him from his seated position.
“Just talked to a possible witness, name of
Susanna Bacon. She thinks she might know about the circumstances of the
stabbing.”
“That’s a good start,” his boss commented. “Anything
else? This stabbing was on Monday night. That’s a week ago. I hope this case
doesn’t go cold.”
“Well, we’re in the painstaking process of
questioning anyone who was at the Yale Gym that night. Problem with that is,
Monday nights are busy at the gym. Everyone who’s had a big weekend heads there
to work out on Mondays.”
Ingraham turned his swivel chair to look out
of his seventh-story window that overlooked the spires of Yale University. “If
you need more uniforms to go out and talk to people, you have the authority.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“That will be all. Report to me any news from
that Susanna woman, OK?”
Jonathan Moore, Esquire, sat with his hands on either
side of his long head, staring at the paper on his desk. His long, slender lips
moved as his blue eyes moved slowly down the page. “Damn.” He took the paper
between his forefinger and thumb and gingerly set it on the side of his
well-appointed desk.
The door opened without ceremony as his
daughter entered. “Hello, dear Dad.” She walked up to his desk, stepped close
to his chair, and kissed his balding forehead. “How are you this morning?”
“Oh fine, fine,” Jonathan replied. He smiled
up at her lovely face. “How are you today?”
“Good! My day looks pretty full, but I’m
ready!”
“Oh, that’s good to hear. Hey, how was the
convention?”
“Not bad. Only I really didn’t learn too much
from the talks. Just a lot of lawyers connecting with each other.”
“So what else did you do?”
She sat on the other side of his desk and
tossed her silky long hair. “I had lunch with an old friend. You know him. Mike
Oates.”
Jonathan crinkled his brow in thought. “Mike
Oates. Oates. Oh, is that Olivia Oates’s son that went off to med school?”
“Yes, he’s the only child. Father passed away
around six or seven years ago. Mike’s at Yale New Haven now.”
“How is he? Has he got anything to show for
his years in medical school? I remember his dad, George, had a few comments
about him.”
Lauren looked steadily at her father.
“Actually, he told me he hated the hospital. He thinks he might quit surgery.”
“Oh?” Jonathan replied. “That’s unfortunate.
George tried to pull a few strings to get Mike into Harvard.”
“Mike’s back in Columbus now, on vacation.”
“Well, I’d steer clear of that fellow if I
were you, my dear.” Her father glanced at her and saw a slight flush to her
cheeks. “He’s a ladies’ man, I know, just like his father was. I’m sorry to say
Olivia’s better off now that George is gone. He did leave her a rich widow, and
Mike’s likely well-heeled as a result of the inheritance.”
“Dad, I will be sure to be careful around
Mike Oates.”
Lauren woke up with a start. She looked around and
realized she had fallen asleep in her office. She didn’t realize that the short
nap she took stretched into the dark hours of the afternoon. She raised herself
on one elbow as she turned her slim figure on the leather couch to check the
time. It was not quite five o’clock in the afternoon. Her cell phone buzzed
next to her. It was a text message from Mike Oates.
“Are you free tonight for dinner?”
She bit her lip as she stared at it. Lauren
held her cell phone firmly, and she punched the response. “Yes.”
Her cell phone rang. It was Mike on the other
line. “Great. How are you.” It was not a question. She smiled.
“I’m fine. Where do you want me?”
“At the Crescent. I have reservations made
for us at the club.”
“Oh, so you want me to get all dressed up.”
She smiled.
“We can have dinner sent up if you want.”
“Oh, is that where you’re staying? I
thought—”
“I’m using my father’s suite. I’ll wait for
you at the lobby.”
Her heart started beating faster. “Fine. What
time do you want me to come?”
“Seven. Sound OK to you?”
“I’ll be there.”
She hung up and felt dizzy. His voice was
deeper than she remembered, and the effect on her was palpable. Her gut seemed
to dip when he spoke, as if he had physically touched her. Lauren staggered on
to her feet. She left her office and saw that Laina Woods, the receptionist she
and her father shared, had gone for the day. Lauren glanced at her father’s
office door and saw that the light was still on inside. Quietly she walked to
the door and pulled it open, shutting it after her. When she was in the hall,
Lauren walked fast to the elevator. She turned slightly as she passed a large
mirror and glanced at herself. Her normally pallid face looked flushed.
Lauren marched into the lobby of the Crescent
Hotel, her slender figure was sheathed in a shimmery black sheath, her feet
encased in spike-heel gold sandals. She stared at her reflection earlier in her
home after she applied nude lipstick on her mouth. “He’s not a great
candidate.” The words escaped her lips. She shook her head and headed out to
the car, feeling almost giddy.
Mike stepped into the light as she entered.
He was dressed in a dark suit, which accentuated his fair-haired good looks.
There was a hint of a smile in his eyes as he looked appreciatively at her.
“You look enchanting.”
“Thank you.”
He led her to the elevator and pushed the
penthouse suite button. The elevator was private, and a glass facade allowed
them to see the glittering night cityscape as they were slowly whisked upward.
The elevator hummed in synchrony with Lauren’s heart. Mike stood slightly
behind her, taking in her beautiful backside.
“Long day at work?” His voice made her jump
slightly.
“Not really. I thought it would be, but the
court case I was prepping for was postponed.”
“Good for you.”
She looked at him and smiled. His eyes held
hers, and she found herself blushing. “How was the drive back home?”
“Boring.”
“How’s your mom?”
“She’s fine. She said I have to bring you one
evening for dinner. Would you like that?”
The doors to the penthouse slid apart.
“I’d love that. She’s a wonderful lady, your
mom.” She entered the penthouse.
She stood at the threshold and took in the
elegant and masculine interior. The lights were subdued, but Lauren found
herself liking the effect. “This is a lovely place, Mike.”
“Thanks.” He chuckled. “I haven’t been here
since my father died. But since I’m still paying for it, I thought I’d use it
while I was here, much to Mom’s dismay.”
He led her to the bar and poured her a drink.
“I think you might like this. It’s something that Mom sent over.”
She took the glass of sparkling white wine
and sipped it. “Very nice. Yes, I like it.”
They stood a little apart, and she turned and
went to the wide windows that overlooked the city. “It’s a beautiful view.”
“Yes.” He walked to her side. “Seems like
there are new buildings here.”
She nodded. “Yes, there are.” She pointed to
a few buildings. Lauren called each by their name.
The elevator doors slid open and a waiter
pushing a trolley entered.
“Ah, that’s our dinner,” Mike announced.
“Thanks, we can serve ourselves.” He dismissed the waiter but not before giving
him a few crisp bills. The waiter smiled cheerfully at them both before leaving.
Mike surveyed the contents of the trolley. He
lifted one of the silver covers and smiled in satisfaction.
She peered around his shoulder. “Mike, that
looks divine,” she remarked. Both of them stared at the boiled twin red
lobsters nestled in the silver-edged platter.
“I know you like lobster,” he said with a
self-satisfied tone in his voice. “Remember when we went to the beach after the
high school homecoming game our senior year?”
“Yes. Your dad threw a lobster feast.” She
reminisced fondly. “Those were good days.”
“You know, that was probably the last time we
were together.”
“I guess so,” Lauren agreed.
They both sat at the table and fell silent,
surveying the sumptuous meal before them. Mike raised his glass. “To good
memories.”
She met his gaze over the rim of her glass.
“To good memories.”
“Let’s make new ones, shall we?” He sounded
serious.
She set her glass down. “Look, Mike, about
this weekend. I’m afraid we—”
“No, I won’t take this as a no from you. You and I will be a good
team.”
“Team? Are you looking to win some game?”
“No.” He looked annoyed. “I meant, we have
great sex, and I think it’s a good start to a relationship.”
She laughed. “No, Mike. Sex shouldn’t be the
start of anything. It must be something more real, something that has depth.”
“OK, so we started with sex—can’t we work
around it? What do you want?”
She paused, unable to say anything.
“Well, what do you want, Lauren?” he repeated
softly.
“I-I don’t know. From you, I don’t know.”
Lauren looked lost. “I wish we didn’t have sex right off the bat.”
“Oh my lord.” He groaned. “I’m sorry we had
sex first, Lauren. I am. But now we have that, can’t we just move forward?”
Lauren looked at his face. She held his gaze,
and then she looked away.
He stood up and paced the room. Mike felt as
though he just walked himself into something he didn’t know how to solve or get
close to. He threw up his hands and said finally, “OK, then we need to talk
about something else.”
“Really? What would that be?”
“You and I need to work together no matter
how you and I started out. I want to ask you to help me with something I did.”
“What did you do?”
“I killed a man.”
“Did you screw something up in the OR?”
“No. Something worse than that.” He grabbed
his glass and poured himself more wine.
“Tell me about it,” Lauren said.
He was unable to talk for what seemed an
eternity. He looked at her from the distance of the living room.
She asked without a flicker of her lashes.
“In surgery?”
“No. I killed a man because he threatened to
kick me off the program at the hospital.” He took a deep swallow of his wine
and stayed standing. He didn’t want to attempt to touch her now. Something was
going to change—and may already have—between them.
Lauren looked at him as if unseeingly. Mike
searched her face for a clue to what she could be thinking.
“Did anyone see you?” she asked, finally.
“Not that I know of. It was kind of late at
night. I didn’t see anyone when I left.”
“Does anyone else know about what happened?”
“I didn’t tell anyone.” Something in her
voice gave him some hope.
She reached for her glass and sipped her
wine. “Are you asking me for help?” Lauren asked coolly.
“Yes. I guess I am. I don’t have any place to
go to. I don’t want to live a life running away. I don’t want to go to prison.
I guess I just want to find someplace to think about things.”
Somewhere in the room, a cell phone rang.
Neither of them spoke nor moved.
Mike ignored the sound of the ringing cell
phone. He crossed the room and sat down next to her. She gazed at his face.
“Can you help me, Lauren?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” she said gently.
Her voice was almost inaudible.
Almost immediately, Mike felt relief. He
drank more of his wine and then breathed in deeply.
“I’ll have to discuss this with my dad. He
will know how to take care of this,” she said. “I’ll have to go home now and
talk to him before he goes to bed.”
Mike’s hand covered hers. He brought it to
his lips. “I’m in a hell of a mess, Lauren. I doubt my future could be bright
now.”
A rueful smile touched her lips. “I told you
before that I help my clients get a shorter jail time.”
“I’m afraid I’m finished,” Mike said flatly.
“Does anyone else know about what happened?”
“I didn’t tell anyone.” Something in her line
of questions gave him some hope.
“Yes. I
guess I am. I don’t have any place to go to. I don’t want to live a life
running away. I don’t want to go to prison. I guess I just want to find
someplace to think about things.”
Somewhere in the room a cell phone rang. Neither
of them spoke or moved.
Mike ignored the sound of the ringing cell
phone. He crossed the room and sat down next to her. She gazed at his face. “Can
you help me, Lauren?”
“I’ll see what I can do.” She said gently. Her
voice was almost inaudible.
Almost immediately, Mike felt relief. He
drank more of his wine and then breathed in deeply.
Lauren’s hand sought his. “I’ll talk to my
Dad. He will take care of this.” She said. “I’ll have to go home now and talk
to him before he goes to bed.”
Mike’s hand covered hers. He brought it to
his lips. “I’m in a hell of a mess, Lauren. I doubt my future could be bright
now.”
A rueful smile touched her lips. “I told you
before that I help my clients get a shorter jail time.”
“I’m afraid of going to prison,” Mike said
flatly.''
