Death Angel (15 page)

She pushed her iced tea away, wiping her
wet hand on her jeans. “It’s all part of the nightmare. You start weighing your
words. You have to think about every action. How will it look? How will it
sound? God, it’s awful.”

“It must be. I wish there was more that
I could do. Chessy feels the same way. We’ve talked about it constantly trying
to think how we could help. You know how practical Chessy is. She suggested I
check on your finances.”

“Chessy’s a love. Both Richard and I are
grateful for her support. Make sure you give her a hug from us.”

“My pleasure.” Wiggling his eyebrows, he
twirled the ends of an imaginary mustache.

His antics made her smile. Talking to
Mike was a welcome relief. She had been so mired in the effort to survive each
day that she hadn’t realized how many of her feelings were bottled up. She
missed the give and take of discussions with Richard. Mike was only a
substitute, but a blessed release for the moment.

“Look, Kate, I’m making more money than
God these days. I spend a lot on golf and probably more on my clothes than
Chessy does. I bought my townhouse when I moved out here and that’s paid off.
And I’ve got the cabin up at Beaverton Lake. As Chessy will be happy to attest
to, I spend too much time at the hospital to run up any big bills.”
 

He paused, then plunged ahead. “What I’m
trying to say is that I’ve got plenty of funds that are yours if you need them.
There’s no need to mention it to Richard at this point, but at least it might
relieve your mind to know it’s available.”

She had difficulty swallowing around the
lump in her throat. “It helps immeasurably to know what good friends we have.
It’s strange. On one hand, the suspicions about Richard, getting a lawyer, and
dealing with the police have been terrifying. On the other hand, they’ve given
us a focus. A safe subject to discuss.”

Mike nodded. “I suspect that for both of
you, concentrating on Leidecker’s investigation keeps you from having to deal
with the pain of Jenny’s death.”

“But I feel so guilty,” Kate said,
crossing her arms over her chest as if she were cold. At the look of surprise
on Mike’s face, she tried to explain. “What I mean is that I feel guilty for
not thinking about Jenny more. Everything I see and do is so wound up in
thoughts of her, but I suppress the memories. The knowledge of her death is too
much to handle, so I think about other things or just try to numb my mind. I’m
such a coward.”

“Good God, Kate! You ask too much of
yourself. You’re just being human. I suppose you could sink into a moaning pile
of despair, but that won’t be any help to anyone, let alone either you or
Richard. It’ll get better. After a while, it won’t hurt so much.”

“People say that, but I don’t see how it
can possibly be true. Just getting up in the morning is an effort. Nothing can
bring Jenny back. And the simple truth is, Mike,” she lowered her voice until
her words were only a whisper, “I don’t want to live in a world without Jenny.”

Silence filled the kitchen. Mike cleared
his throat as if to speak, but when she looked up his face was bleak. She
remembered how good he had been with Jenny. And Jenny had adored him. Memories
flooded Kate, and the sharp-edged pain of loss twisted in her chest.

“The average age of my patients, Kate,
is seventy-eight, so I deal with death every day.” Mike tipped his chair until
all his weight was on the two back legs. He rocked slightly, staring at a spot
above her head. “I can rattle off the stages of mourning, give you the pat
sayings I learned in med school. As a doctor, I know all the answers except
one. How to stop the pain.”
 

“Enough, Mike.” She couldn’t muster the
energy to be forceful. “Let’s just leave it alone.”

“Your reactions are normal. It takes
time to move past the zombie stage. You need to fight the feelings of despair.
No one, least of all me, expects you to deal with Jenny’s death rationally.
Anger comes before acceptance,” he said. “Once you get angry, you’ll begin to
heal.”

“I don’t want to heal,” she blurted out.
“I want to die.”

“And Richard?”

She felt a sense of abandonment that his
first allegiance would always be to his friend. She squeezed her eyes shut,
sagging in her chair. “What about Richard?”
 

“I think he’s drinking too much.”

She wasn’t particularly surprised by
Mike’s comment. It explained some of Richard’s behavior in the past few
days.
 

“I wondered. He’s been coming home later
than usual. He says he’s not hungry and either goes into his studio or dozes in
front of the TV. I think he’s just trying to blunt the pain of reality.”

Mike leaned forward, bringing the front
legs of his chair to the floor with a decided thump. “Blunting reality is
considered one of the signs of a substance abuser.”

“Will you stop lecturing me, damn it!”
She glared across the table at him. With deliberation, he folded his arms
across his chest. “What kind of doctor are you? You sit there so smugly, and
you haven’t the least idea of what I’m going through. I’m so tired of behaving
correctly and doing what everyone wants me to do. I can’t help Richard. I can’t
even help myself!” she shouted.

“Gosh you’re beautiful when you’re
angry.”

The old cliché was like a splash of cold
water, bringing her back to her senses. She sucked in a gulp of air. She
blinked several times, narrowing her eyes at the grin on Mike’s face.
 

“You are an arrogant bastard, you know,”
she said conversationally.

“Thanks.” His eyes sparkled above the
wide grin. “Welcome back.”

“If you’re planning to follow up your
performance with a reminder that this is the ‘for better or worse’ part of the
marriage vows, I give you fair warning that I’ll throw something at your head.”
Mike raised both hands in surrender. “All right, doctor, what do you suggest?”

His expression immediately sobered. “I’m
not sure what to suggest. I think Richard’s thinking and worrying too much. If
you can’t get him to talk, at least try to think of something to keep him
busy.” Mike waved toward the window. “The garden?”

She stood up, staring outside. Her neck
was stiff and she massaged it with her hands. “I suppose that might work. The
fresh air’s bound to do us some good. It might even help us sleep through the
night.” She looked down at Mike. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” He was immediately on the
defensive.

“Deal with death. You know when you get
a patient that you’re probably going to watch them die. Doesn’t that get to
you?”

He shrugged. “I went into geriatrics
originally because we’re all going to get old, and I thought it might give me
some pointers on how to get the most out of life.”

“And has it worked?”

He chuckled. “Most of my healthy
patients have low blood pressure and a cheerful outlook on life. That keeps me
sane. Which reminds me I better get back to the hospital if I plan to get any
cake from Mrs. Olson’s going home party.”
 

Getting up, he went around the table to
hug Kate. She felt comforted, relaxing in his enveloping embrace. Before she
could get too comfortable, she drew a deep breath and pushed him away. They
walked to the front door in companionable silence.

“Chessy wants to get together again,”
Mike said, opening the door. “Are you going out at all?”

“Not much. Tell her to give me a call
and we’ll set up something. And thanks for stopping by.”
 

She stood in the open doorway, breathing
in the fresh air as he walked down the sidewalk. He pulled out his car keys
just as Richard’s car came down the street and turned into the driveway. Mike
pointed to his watch and hurried to his car. With a toot of the horn, he drove
away.
 

Richard unlocked the trunk and pulled
out his leather portfolio. He smiled sheepishly at Kate as he came toward
her.
 

“It occurred to me today that I’ve been
neglecting you, so I decided to come home early.”

“I’m glad,” she said. “It’s really
beautiful out. We could have an early dinner. Maybe cook something on the
grill?”

“Sounds good. What happened to the
reporters?” Richard jerked his head at the empty street. There were no cars
around, only two teenage boys on the sidewalk. “Don’t tell me we’ve ceased to
be newsworthy.”

“Thank God for that.”

A slight movement caught Kate’s eye and
she turned to look at the teenagers. One of the boys raised his hand.

“Look out!” Richard yelled.

An object smashed against the door panel
beside her head. Richard dropped his portfolio and ran toward her but before he
could reach her, something struck her in the center of her chest. She lost her
balance, falling backward into the house.

“Oh, my God, Kate! You’re bleeding!”

Kate looked down at the front of her
white blouse, staring in horror at the splotches of red.

Eleven

K
ate caught her breath
at the red stains
on her blouse. Her hip was bruised where she had fallen, but aside from that
she wasn’t in any pain. Beyond the partially opened front door she could see
the teenagers shouting as they ran down the middle of the street.
 

“Don’t move, honey.” Richard knelt
beside her, his face white with shock. “I’ll call the paramedics.”

He started to rise and she grabbed at
his suit jacket to hold him in place.
 

“Don’t try to talk,” he said.

This is pure slapstick, she thought as
she fought for breath to speak.
 

“I’m not hurt, Richard. It’s a tomato.”

“What?” He looked at her as if she were
delirious.

“The boys were throwing tomatoes.”

She pointed to the door. Lumps of tomato
pulp were splattered on the panels, dribbling down in thick red streaks to
puddle on the floor. At the sight, she began to giggle. It wasn’t funny but she
couldn’t stop the waves of laughter that rose to her throat.

“Kate! Richard!” Marian Granger called
from outside the door. “My stars, what a mess. I was just coming home when I
saw those dreadful boys.”

Richard rose to his feet, wavering
between staying with Kate or going to the door. Even his indecision struck Kate
as amusing. She covered her mouth to hold back the laughter and tears sprang to
her eyes, rolling down her cheeks as she rocked back and forth.

Marian stood at the front door, staring
in at Kate. “Good heavens, Richard, is she hurt?” she asked.

“No. I think she’s hysterical.”

Kate knew she was in trouble because she
couldn’t stop the laughter. She pressed her hands against her lips, but it only
muffled the sounds bubbling up in an endless stream.

“Do something, Richard,” Marian said.

Richard leaned over and pulled Kate to
her feet. Her knees buckled and he supported her with one arm around her waist.
With his other hand, he grabbed her shoulder and shook her.

“Stop it, Kate,” he said. “Kate! Look at
me.”

It was the anger on his face that got
through to her. Abruptly the laughter stopped and she began to cry, crumpling
against his chest. He held her securely, his body absorbing each shudder of her
body until the storm of emotion subsided. When she was quiet, he kissed the top
of her head, leaning down until his mouth was next to her ear.
 

“This wasn’t meant for you, Kate. They
meant to frighten me. I should have told the truth. This is all my fault.”
Before she could even register his words, he turned her around to face Marian.
“Can you take Kate upstairs? I’ll clean up this mess.”

“Of course. Come along, dear.”

She didn’t give Kate a chance to object.
With an arm around her shoulders, the older woman led her upstairs to the
bathroom and, as if Kate were a child, helped her remove the tomato-stained
blouse.

“Kids can be very cruel,” Marian said as
she turned on the water in the sink and handed her a washcloth. “They’re too
young to understand how painful some pranks can be.”

Kate grimaced into the mirror. Red dots
covered her face and neck and her bra had soaked up some of the tomato juice.
Even though she had not been hurt by the thrown tomato, she felt dirty. It was
strange how things got turned around. It was the teenagers who were in the
wrong and yet she felt ashamed, embarrassed to be the focus of the attack.

Unlike Marian, she did not think what
the boys had done was a prank. The word itself indicated mischief not malice.
This had been a deliberate attack. They had done it because they thought that
she and Richard had somehow been responsible for Jenny’s death.

She wondered how many other people
thought the same thing. No matter what anyone thought, she was convinced that
Richard had not killed Jenny.

Then why had Richard said it was all his
fault?