2 Big Apple Hunter (21 page)

I left the apartment, ran down the stairs, and out the back door. I pulled up short. My car was gone! I was only confused for a second a
nd
remembered
it was still at Bud’s. Crap! How was I going to get my car? I stood
looking around
the parking lot for a moment
, but gave up and turne
d to go back into the
building to call
for
a cab. Mr. Tensel from 2
B
was coming out the door.

A nice man in his seventies, Art Tensel lived alone with three cats. He was hard of hearing which made it very difficult to carry on a conversation with him. “Hello, Mr. Tensel,” I addressed him with a raised voice. “How are you today?”

“I’m fine, Susan,” he said. “Where are you off to today?”

“Apparently nowhere,” I told him with a smile and a little shake of my head. “I seem to have forgotten to bring my car home last night.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” he said with a flick of his hand. “I forget where my car is all the time. I sometimes have to have the cart guys drive me around the Walmart parking lot until we can figure out where I left it.”

“No, Mr. Tensel,” I said louder. “I know where my car is. I’m just going to have to get a ride to go get it.”

A big smile spread across his
face. “If you’re looking for another ride, Stevie Taylor is working down there at
Arnie’s
Auto World, and he’ll give you a good deal on a new car. Just tell him I sent you his way.”

I hung my head and sighed. I’d try one more time.

“Mr. Tensel,” I was yelling now, “where are you going?”

“Me?” He looked around to be sure I wasn’t talking to anyone else. “I’m going over to the nursing home to visit Mo Tucker. We play checkers every Thursday morning. Sometimes we play for money, and that Mo is good, but I can usually take him for about $5.00.”

Bud’s was on the way to the nursing home. Mr. Tensel may not be able to hear, but he could see
well enough
to drive, and maybe he would give me a lift. I
stepped
right up to his ear and yelled into it, “Can you take me to Bud’s place? It’
s
on the way.”

“Oh, I agree,” he said
with a chuckle
.
“
This weather has taken a nasty turn, and mud is all over the place! I’ve been tracking it in, and the cats want to lick it.”

I gave up. I started to tell him good-bye, but he looked around and said, “Susan, your car’s not here. Can I give you a lift somewhere?”

I didn’t speak. I simply
smiled and gave him the thumbs-up sign.

He talked a blue streak about his cats on the short drive to Bud’s. I smiled
the entire time
and gave him another thum
bs-up sign when he told me
he had trained the cats to use the toilet. I used more hand signals to direct him where to go. When we
turned
into Bud’s parking lot, his face lit up, and he said, “I spent many a good evening here, too, Susan. Had to leave my car a couple of times
as well. I’m glad to know
you’re responsible and don’t drink and drive.”

I opened the car door to get out and gave him the thumbs-up sign yet again. “Thank you, Mr. Tensel. Have a nice day,” I said.

“I think I will,” he said with a smile. “They always feed us lunch at the nursing home, and rice is always on the menu. Good-bye, Susan.”

If it hadn’t been so excruciating, it might have been funny.

I
glanced
around the lot. Samantha’s
car was already gone. Larry
probably picked it up last night. I hated leaving my car overnight anywhere, and I
checked
it over carefully to be sure it hadn’t been dinged or scratched.

I got in, turned the key, and the powerful motor came to life. Out of habit, I pushed in the 8-track tape. It was in the middle of
Come Back When You Grow Up
by Bobby Vee. Ugh! I immediately popped it back out and remembered why had I stopped it in the first place. It made me think of Mick and how tired he must be of the antics of me and my friends. But we never hurt anybody, and we never broke the law – well, not usually. The naked stunt at the party was the most serious thing that had ever happened, and I wasn’t even involved. Why did things have to be so complicated? I didn’t want to be stuffy and all prim and proper. I wanted to have a good job by day, and play hard at night. I liked laughing with and at my friends. There had to be a happy medium somewhere.

Mick
would be home sometime today. I would probably find out if he was backing off or gone altogether. I wouldn’t blame him after the way I had yelled at him on the phone.

I sighed and tried to shake the thoughts off. I had to get to the post office and get the necklace. Mick could wait. Darby was more important today. Darby. My chest tightened with ache. What must he be going through? How scared was he? Was he hurt? Did he have hope? My eyes welled up with tears. No! I wasn’t going to start crying again. I had to be strong. Get the necklace. Get Darby. That would be my mantra for the day.
Get the necklace. Get Darby
.

I pulled up
in front of
the post office and looked around but didn’t see the Caprice. I didn’t see anything
or anyone
out of the ordinary. I deliberately left my purse in the car, put my keys in my jacket, and walked into the post office with nothing in my hands.

At the counter,
I addressed the postmaster
, “Hi, Mr. Porter. K
athy left a package for me to pick up this morning.”

“Hi, Susan
,” he said smiling
.
“
Let me go take a look.” He was only gone for a minute. “Here you go,” he said as he handed the box to me.

It was definitely the necklace. The packaging still had m
arkings from the St. Regis
in New York, but
most of them were covered
by Mom’s label addressed to me. “Thank you, Mr. Porter. Have a nice day,” I told him.

I stepped to the side of the counter and quickly ripped the package open. The necklace was in a small, clear plastic baggie. I shoved it into my jeans pocket, and threw the packaging and the note I had written to my mom in the trash bin. I rushed out the door with a frown on my face. I’m sorry hippie Aunt Charlotte, but I had to frown this morning. If anyone was watch
ing, I wanted it to appear
I had gone in to ask for the package, but it wasn’t there. I wanted to project a distraught appearance.

Back in my car, I sat for
a minute to decide my next move. My phone rang. My heart took off like a raceho
rse. I was afraid to look
as it would surely be Mrs. Ross wanting to know if I had the necklace. Instead, a picture that melted my heart was looking back at me. Mick. As much as I
didn’t want to do it, I
hit the ignore button. I couldn’t talk to him this morning. I absolutely couldn’t talk to him until after I had Darby back safe and sound. I couldn’t let anything upset me, and now was not the time to be breaking up with Mick over the phone.

Get the necklace. Get Darby. I had the necklace, now I had to get Darby.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was 6:15. Samantha would be here at 6:30. Our plan was still a go.

My day had been restless since pic
king up the necklace, and I
needed to find a distraction. I couldn’t go to the club to play racquetball. I
knew I
would never be able to concentrate and would either end up getting hurt or hurting someone else.

The recipe in my cookbook for Lobster Mac and Cheese came to mind, so I decided to make it. D
arby would be back tonight. W
e could warm
up the dish
and have a late supper together. I retrieved the cookbook from my sitting room and took it into the kitchen. A quick perusal of the ingredients, and then of my refri
gerator and pantry, showed
I only needed the lobster and the Gruyere cheese. Martin wouldn’t have lobster at the deli, so I would need to run to the market.

Thirty minutes later, I was at the seafood counter acquiring a fully-cooked lobster. I didn’t have the desire or the time to cook a live lobster, so this would have to suffice. I went to the dairy section and picked up the Gruyere.

I was considering a bottle of wine when I heard a shrill voice around the corner in the frozen foods section. “Oh, yes, we’re asking for the maximum
penalty
for all of them,” the voice said. “Susan Hunter’s parents would die of shame if they knew how she’s been behaving since they left town.”

My blood pressure immediately started to rise. I walked around the corner and saw Mrs. Blakely talking to Wanda Baxter, the head librarian of Carbide City’s main library downtown. Wanda Baxter used to set books aside for me when I was in junior high school. She knew how much I loved mysteries and would hold the best books back from the shelves until I had read them first. She was a nice woman, and I was infuriated that Mrs. Blakely was defaming me to her.

Already pushed to the edge emotionally, I couldn’t hold my tongue. I marched up to her, put my finger in her face, and shouted, “Edith Blakely, you’re a bald-faced liar. You know full well
t
here was nothing more going on that day than four men who took a fast run for a skinny-dip in the lake. You didn’t see anything but four pasty white butts, and you’re spreading these horrible lies just to draw attention to yourself and your miserable little life. When the true story comes out about what happened,
you’re
go
ing to be shown for the liar
you are. You should consider leaving town now!”

With her face drained of all color, Mrs. Blakely
stood
in front of me
with such a look of anger,
I thought smoke might start wafting
from
her ears. Wanda Baxter was trying to stifle a laugh. I
quickly turned
and marched to the front of the store
,
where I saw
everyone was quiet and standing still. They had obviously heard my tirade in frozen foods. I handed my two items to Georgina at the se
rvice counter and told her
I had changed my mind. I quickly left the store, jumped into my car, and rushed back home. I spent the rest of the afternoon pacing throughout the apartment.

If I wasn’t going to have a heart attack, I was surely going to have an anxiety attack. The tightness in my chest wouldn’t let up. Darby had left a bottle of Jack in the cupboard, and I wanted to take a drink to steady my nerves, but didn’t dare
,
as
I needed to be clear of mind.

The necklace was still in my jean
’
s p
ocket. I slipped my jacket
on and put my cell phone and apartment keys in the pocket. My phone was on silent. Get Darby. Get Darby. I couldn’t stop saying it in my head. I knew I was going to have a meltdown when this was all over.

Should I have called Detective Bentley? I started doubting the wisdom of what we were about to do. No! It was a good plan. If Samantha called Dick as soon as she
left the park
, they would have the roads covered when Indiana Jones and Mrs. Ross were leaving, not before when everything could get messed up. It had to be done this way.

I stepped out into the hallway and closed the apartment door behind me. I
stared
at Darby’s door. Apartment 3
C
. There were no words to describe the emotion
s I was feeling. He was my
best friend.

I walked softly down the stairs and stood by the back door waiting for Samantha. She pulled in right on time. I slipped into the passenger side of her white Camry. We said small
“
hello
s
”
to each other, but we were quiet on the
fifteen
minute drive to the park. She
turned
into the public parking lot. It was dark. “Do you have a flashlight?” she asked me.

“No. I think the bridge is lighted,” I told her.

“It is, but you’ll want to be able to see
while you’re walking down the path
.” She opened the glove box, pulled out a flashlight, and handed it to me. “Susan, do you have your phone?” she a
sked. “Can I see it
?”

“Sure. Why?”
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and handed it to her.

“I want to add Dick’s direct line at the police station
,” she said
.
“
If anything goes wrong, you’ll have an emergency number to someone who knows what’s going on. It’ll be faster than trying to call 911 or anyone else.”

She took more than a minute, but finally handed the phone back to me. I
slipped it back in my
pocket. We leaned into each other and hugged. “Thanks for helping me, Sam,” I said smiling at her. “I’m going to get Darby.” I wanted to cry, but I kept the smile on my face.