Waiting and Watching (18 page)

“Fuddy-Duddy here probably won't put his on. But I'll give him a pass if he gets dinner on the table for me,” Sylvia said winking at Julio.

“I'd be glad to. By the way, where did you get those wigs?” Julio shook his head.

“I go to the mothball market down the block. It's the thrift store on the corner. Once someone kicks the bucket, their kids take all the good stuff and give the junk to the thrift store. I check it out constantly for little treasures that the kids might have missed. Sometimes, the young girls who work there will put something aside for me. They know I decorate the building for all the holidays and I like to dress in costumes for each occasion.”

Julio just rolled his eyes and smiled.

“Could you take the brisket out of the oven and cut it up?” she asked. “I want to visit with the boys here. Oh, and don't forget the salad. It's in the refrigerator. The dressing is in there too. The potatoes and green bean casserole are on the counter along with the dinner rolls. Think you can handle all that?”

“With pleasure,” Julio said. “I think I'm better off in the kitchen rather than hanging out with the blonde sorority sisters.” He went about getting all the food ready. As the dinner rolls went into the oven, he remembered the wine. Finally, something decent to drink he thought with a chuckle. He peeked into the living room and saw Sylvia and the boys laughing and enjoying themselves.

The dinner was delicious and Julio was pleased that his co-workers were relating well to Sylvia. She was on stage and enjoying every moment of regaling Otto and Patrick with her stories that the guys either genuinely or politely found hilarious. With Sylvia on a roll, Julio got up from the table; turned on the coffee and sliced up a New York style cheesecake that he found in a pink bakery box. Afterwards, he cleaned up the dishes while the others went into the living room for an after-dinner drink. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw both Otto and Patrick blanch when Sylvia mentioned her special after-dinner brew.

Once Julio had cleaned up the kitchen and dining room, he went out to join the others. He found Otto putting a blanket over Sylvia who was lying prone on the couch. Her wig, now with a life of its own, had popped off and was perched on the pillow ready to take off in flight. “Is she okay?” Julio asked anxiously.

“She's fine,” Patrick said. “She said she got dizzy disco dancing with Otto, so we got her to lie down. Personally, I think the Butt Bangers got to her. She had at least two of them.”

“Hey, man, Sylvia told us about your parents,” Patrick said solemnly. “We're really sorry to hear how they died. It must have been tough for you and your sister. If we can do anything more to help you find who murdered them, let us know.”

“Thanks. I appreciate what you've done already,” Julio said.

“Well, I think we'll be off now. We're going to hit The Lower Level for a nightcap. Care to join us?”

“How can you guys even think of booze after those disgusting Butt Bangers? And what in the hell was that after-dinner brew she served you two?”

“Well,” said Otto, “we declined the after-dinner concoction, and please don't tell Sylvia, but we never drank the Butt Bangers. When we noticed how quick you were to volunteer for kitchen duty, we took turns going to the bathroom and dumped it all. We're actually beer guys, but we appreciate her creativity. I know she was disappointed not to see us in our leather and chains. We'll try to be more flamboyant next time.”

“Thanks for coming guys,” Julio said. “I'll see you at the office tomorrow.”

Driving from Westchester into New York City, Connie was awestruck at the buildings and traffic. Backed up for miles, it turned the hour and a half drive into almost three. She and Andrew returned the rental car and jumped into a cab to head for Andrew's co-op apartment. He greeted the doorman and introduced him to Connie. He explained that Connie would be a frequent visitor. She loved the apartment because it was…so Andrew.

The furnishings were tasteful, masculine and conservative. The floor-to-ceiling bookshelves were stuffed with books and photos on every shelf. The pictures were mostly of his parents, but Connie was thrilled to see her high school photo framed next to his bed.

“I know I will love it here. It will take me a while to get used to the pace. I'm glad I don't have to drive here because I'd probably freak out. I hate the thought of returning to Utah tomorrow, but one day I'll be here permanently. You don't know any of my bad habits, yet. I hope you'll still want me when you get to know the real me.”

“I've got a few of my own, so we'll just have to work it out,” he said as he grabbed her and sat down on the sofa, with her on his lap.

Connie tingled with excitement when Andrew began touching and kissing her again. They were just beginning to dispense with niggling buttons when the phone rang. Andrew answered it and told Connie it was her Aunt Viv calling.

“That's weird,” Connie said. “I wonder why she's calling me here.”

Connie took the phone from Andrew. “Hi, Aunt Viv. Is anything wrong?”

“Hi, Honey. Sorry to bother you in New York, but I just got a call from Nola Perkins. She's trying to reach you. I didn't want to give her Andrew's phone number so I told her if I talked to you I would have you call her.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that. Did she leave her number?”

“Yes.” Her Aunt Viv gave her the number and then asked, “Are you and Andrew having fun?”

“Yes, it's been wonderful. I can't wait to tell you everything when I get back.”

After hanging up with her aunt, Connie looked with concern at Andrew. “I wonder what Nola wants. Whatever it is, I'd better brace myself.”

Hands on his hips, his expression not a happy one, Connie turned her back to him and dialed Nola's number before he could talk her out of it.

“Hi Nola, it's Constance. What can I do for you?”

“Thank you for calling me. I felt it best that we talk. I can't tell you how sorry I am about Martin. I've been agonizing about the whole thing and dreaded calling you because I just didn't know what to say. I honestly haven't seen Martin since he disappeared that night. I hope you don't think he had anything to do with your parents' deaths. The police won't tell me what Martin did to you. Please, I need to know.”

“He scared me, Nola,” Connie said, choking up. “He was angry and delusional. I think he was going to force me to have sex with him. Martin must have somehow given me something to make me pass out, because I remember getting a ride with him from the Buckeye Club and when I woke up, I was in my old bedroom. He had a lot of anger towards my family and me. He was mad at me for not going to the Junior Prom with him years ago. Somehow he found and saved my old prom dress and forced me to put it on and then dance with him.”

“Constance, I am so sorry. Martin had a breakdown in Rhode Island, which is why he came home. He's been undergoing treatment and seemed to be doing better,” she said with a sob.

“Nola, what did my family do that was so terrible? He said my father cheated on my mother. Did he do that? You can tell me. I won't hate him for it.”

“That was so long ago and I really don't remember anything specific. We teased your father once about a Realtor who flirted with him and then got into an argument with your mother. Later, your mother told me that she didn't take it seriously.”

“Martin has a lot of resentment about losing his father at a young age. It affected him terribly. Please rest assured, Constance, I will turn him over to the police if he comes home. I understand they just want to question him and that you only filed a report rather than press charges. I so appreciate that. Going to jail would only make things worse for him. I will not ever let him hurt you again.”

“Nola, I can't guarantee that the District Attorney will leave it this way. Martin had a knife, and I think he meant to use it on me.”

“I understand that, Constance. I hope it doesn't come to that as I think it would destroy him. I'm concerned about my Martin, but I'm also concerned about you. Are you doing alright after the incident?” she asked.

“Yes. Nola. I'm going to be okay. Are you alright?” Connie asked.

“Yes. Thank you for your concern and I think it's important that we keep in touch, especially if Martin comes home. Why don't you give me your phone number?"

Connie was silent for a moment gathering her thoughts. She didn't want Nola to know that she and Andrew were getting back together. Nor did she want to give Nola her phone number for Martin to perhaps get hold of. Besides, Nola's prejudices ran deep and ugly, and frightened Connie. She knew Nola would not be forthright about Martin if she was aware she and Andrew were back together.

“Oh, Nola. I'm moving to a new apartment, but I just don't know the exact date. I'll make it my responsibility to keep in touch with you. I'll be calling soon. Bye now,” Connie said as she hung up, not giving the woman time to argue.

Andrew gave her a grumpy look. “You didn't have to call her, you know.”

“I feel badly for her, Andrew,” she explained. “Martin's all she's got and he's one messed up guy. By the way, she said she hasn't heard from him.”

“You know she's not going to tell you otherwise, right?” Andrew said.

“That's probably true. She's very protective of him, just like she is about my parents and even me. We were her whole world. She wouldn't commit one way or another about Dad cheating on Mom,” Connie said sadly.

“I think she would know since she was always around them,” Andrew said.

“I agree. I was hoping not to think about the incident this weekend, but I guess I can't escape it.”

Andrew chuckled as he put his arms around her and started rubbing the small of her back while showering her with kisses.

Monday—September 29, 1986

Julio received a phone call from Private Investigator Max Ferguson, regarding his clients, two of the three men whose names were attached to the photos Sylvia had found in Beth Vreeland's apartment.

“Yes, Max. I appreciate you calling me back. Have you talked to your clients?”

“Yes I have, and they've both given me permission to share their encounters with her. About twenty years ago, a man who was being blackmailed by Beth Vreeland hired me. He had a casual one-night stand with her when he was very intoxicated. My client was married and had a family. He was horrified when she informed him she had borne a son by him. My client was quite well off and didn't have a problem helping her financially, but he wanted to know if this child was really his. That's when he hired me.

“During my investigation. I found out that she was making the same claim to another man and extorting money from him too. I contacted him and he became my second client. He was also married with a family and financially well off. He had the same concern that was to verify if this child was truly his offspring. These two men lived in opposite areas of the country, but had both used Beth Vreeland as their realtor in each of their respective cities.

“I met with Mrs. Vreeland and told her that I represented these two men and that she would not get another dime from either of them until one of them—the real father—had proof this child existed and was really his. She refused to show me the boy or offer any proof and instead told me if they didn't like it, she would go to their wives and reveal the affair with compromising pictures. The demands for money lessened after that. She did occasionally contact them for money, but it was not on a regular basis. At that point, we stopped pursuing it. She sporadically contacted them over the last few years for more money, but both men considered the amount inconsequential and just paid it. That's pretty much it in a nutshell,” Max said.

“Well,” Julio said, “it's likely my father was another one of her victims. I know a few things that might help you. First of all, we're not sure where Beth Vreeland is or whether she's even alive. Apparently, her son has been impersonating her.” Julio described how he and Sylvia had discovered the impersonation.

“There's also a third name we found, along with your two clients' names, and it appears he may also have been a victim of extortion.” Julio proceeded to tell Max about Todd Bridgeland.

“This could be great news for my clients,” Max said. “Do you think she was involved in any way in your parents' deaths?”

“We just don't know. We are pursuing Vreeland as a possible suspect, but she's not a probable lead. However, the more mysterious this woman becomes, the more we think she could be involved.”

“I'd like to know about your parents' murders if you're comfortable talking about it,” Max said. “I may be able to offer you some free advice in return for the information you shared as well as keeping me in the loop on Beth Vreeland's whereabouts.”

Julio filled Max in on the details up to this point. Max took notes and asked lots of questions. Both agreed they'd stay in touch.

Tuesday—September 29, 1986

Connie reluctantly returned to Utah. She called Julio to fill him in on her romantic visit with Andrew and the phone call from Nola.

Julio asked if Andrew was coming to Cincinnati for Thanksgiving.

“He can't make it back during Thanksgiving, but he will for Christmas. That's why I was thinking I'd arrive in Cincinnati on Tuesday and stay through Thursday night, then fly to New York to be with Andrew over the weekend. You're still planning to meet me in Cincinnati for Thanksgiving, right?”

“Absolutely. I'm planning on it. There's no way you're going back there alone. I think it's important we meet with Sgt. Reynolds to keep him focused on the case. I'll arrive Tuesday night and meet you at the Tilden Park Inn, then travel back to Florida on Friday. I thought I'd take Sylvia out to dinner. She arranges a potluck dinner every Thanksgiving for the people in her building who are left alone. She was disappointed I couldn't attend, so I told her I'd take her out for a drink and dinner over the holiday weekend.”