Angora Alibi (5 page)

“Justin’s heart is in the right place,” Izzy said, trying to coax a smile back to
Janie’s face.

“But that’s the problem. Sure, he means well, and he’s really smart—he’s a genius
with computers and he loves all the lab stuff. He even won some science awards in
high school before he dropped out, if you can believe it. But he still acts like a
kid—he’s nineteen!—but he does really dumb things. He always seems to be a step removed
from the real world, like he’s living in this dreamworld or something, making up his
own rules, coming up with silly schemes to get rich fast.” She sighed. “I can’t imagine
that a pail of dirty water on Archie and his beautiful dog is going to endear him
to anyone in town.”

“Archie will be fine,” Nell said, waving away her worry. “And so will Hemingway.”

Janie brushed a handful of hair from her forehead and picked up a folder from the
desk. She glanced over her shoulder toward the offices. “I shouldn’t be dishing on
him. At least he showed up for work on time.”

“Justin’s here?” Nell asked.

“He works here. Dr. Lily has him doing odd jobs around the clinic. He fixes things—jammed
printers, computers. He’s great at details, keeping files and reports and papers in
the right place. But washing windows? Not so much. Now, on to other things.” Janie’s
voice was dismissive as she turned back into the efficient, in-charge, competent head
nurse of the Virgilio Clinic. “This is about you, Iz. It’s time to hear baby Perry’s
amazing heartbeat.”

She held open the door to the inner offices, then led them through the maze of hallways
that defined the old house. On the other side of the building, Dr. Alan Hamilton and
a younger partner ran a family practice, sharing some offices and a dispensary. On
this end the hallways wound around examining rooms, offices, and a library that housed
Dr. Lily’s busy obstetrics and gynecology practice. Unlike some other old structures
in Sea Harbor that had suffered through many renovations, the clinic still stood tall
and proud; the most recent architect had done a masterful job of keeping the quaint
touches, the curving hallways and tall windows that looked out onto the sea, the wide
stairways to the upper floor and a winding, narrow one that led to a widow’s walk
at the very top of the house. But instead of dark corners and the smell of ships and
stormy seas, the walls were white and bright and smelled slightly of antiseptic, freshly
laundered linens, and soapy creams.

Nell followed her niece around a corner, her eyes lingering on Izzy’s rolling walk.
The newfound sway on her tall, well-toned niece was still unfamiliar to Nell, making
her wonder if she’d recognize Izzy if she were behind her on the street. She’d heard
it called a waddle, a result of the ligaments loosening for the baby to be born. But
that word didn’t resonate with the lovely sway her niece had adopted. To Nell, it
was beautiful.

As they turned another corner, Nell glanced through a half-open pocket door into a
small office. Martin Seltzer, dressed in a white jacket, stood near a window, murmuring
in a low monotone. His hair was bright white, his shoulders narrow and pushed slightly
forward. He turned his head, words still falling from his lips, then spotted Nell
before she could turn away. White eyebrows lifted, as if in surprise at seeing a woman
watching him. Slightly embarrassed, Nell smiled and murmured something about having
a good day.

The doctor smiled back—a grave smile—as if clouded by thoughts that he needed to get
back to. As Nell began to turn away, she noticed someone else in the room and realized
the doctor hadn’t been murmuring to himself. It was Heather Gruen, a young woman Nell
knew from the hair salon. Heather was pregnant with her first child and openly nervous
about every change her body was undergoing. She waved to Nell, then turned her full
attention back to Dr. Seltzer and he to her, releasing Nell to hurry down the hall
after Izzy.

The man was certainly an enigma, so uncomfortable in social settings, yet obviously
patient and understanding with anxious mothers-to-be. She and Ben saw Martin around
town often, but he never encouraged long conversations and sometimes bordered on rudeness.

Birdie thought Nell misjudged the man. He was simply a loner, she said. Some people
found pleasure in being alone. Or maybe, Birdie said, he simply hadn’t met anyone
interesting enough to befriend. At that Nell had laughed and given in. Birdie was
often right about such things. And he’d certainly seemed comfortable with Heather
Gruen.

She followed Izzy into an empty examining room and waited while Janie chatted, carefully
recording Izzy’s weight on the chart.

When Lily Virgilio walked in, a bundle of professional efficiency, Janie headed off
toward a ringing phone.

“The receptionist went home early,” Dr. Lily explained. “Janie is wearing several
hats today.” She gave Nell a hug. “I’m so glad you came with Izzy. It gives me a chance
to gush about that wonderful event. I’m still overwhelmed by the amount of money raised
for the free health clinic. This town is simply wonderful. My thanks to all of you
who made it happen.”

“It was a great evening—and a great cause. Besides, we love an excuse for a party.”

Lily laughed, then turned toward Izzy and patted the paper-wrapped exam table. “So—let’s
see what’s going on with you, Izzy. Sleeping any better?” She wrapped the cuff around
Izzy’s upper arm and began pumping air into it. She watched Izzy’s face, reading it
with practiced eyes.

“Somewhat better. Running helps. Except for . . .” Her words fell off.

“Except for what?”

Images of the empty car seat flashed before Izzy’s eyes. She blinked them away. “Except
for the fact that I eat everything in sight.”

“You can afford it, Izzy. No worries there.” Lily released the air and watched the
needle flicker as the cuff deflated. “Still a little higher than I’d like it,” she
said, scribbling a note into the record.

“Dangerously high?” It was Nell asking the question. Izzy’s eyes were on the open
window, as if the darkening sky was dramatically more important than talking about
her vital signs.

“No,” Lily answered, her voice reassuring. “Not dangerously high and there’s nothing
that needs to be done. Blood pressure often rises in doctors’ offices and that may
well be what’s going on here. I am just being overly cautious. Izzy seems a little
stressed sometimes so I’m keeping a close eye on her.”

“Without reason,” Izzy said, rejoining the conversation. “It’s all silly. It will
pass. It’s just a feeling—like a sixth sense that developed along with my pregnancy.
Things just don’t seem quite right. I don’t want my baby coming yet, not until things
are peaceful.” Her arms instinctively circled her belly.

Lily sighed. “You want a perfect world to bring your baby into. Wouldn’t that be nice?
I’m afraid you might have to wait a long time.”

Izzy just smiled.

Nell watched the look that passed over Izzy’s face. She meant it; she sensed something
and it didn’t matter if it sounded silly or manufactured or crazy. To Izzy it was
real.

Until Izzy got pregnant, Nell always thought the similarities between her niece and
her sister, Caroline—Izzy’s mother—were confined to their tall, slender builds and
glorious thick hair. But pregnancy unearthed a few more. She remembered Caroline saying
similar things during her three pregnancies. She was vehemently protective of her
unborn baby, wanting to keep the baby safe inside until she declared the world ready
for him or her. Nell had listened to Caroline with a certain wonder, marveling at
the miracle she considered each pregnancy to be and whatever that fierce protective
instinct was. And now she saw it in Izzy, too, that sureness that she knew what was
right for her unborn child.

“So,” Lily was saying beside her, “I suspect we have a little bruiser here.”

“That’s not a surprise.” Nell smiled. “His father is one.”

“Where’s all this ‘his’ coming from?” Izzy asked.

“I stand corrected. He or she.” Lily laughed. The examination complete, she helped
Izzy sit up and drop her legs over the side of the table.

A knock on the door was followed by Janie’s voice with a request to talk to Dr. Virgilio.
The words carried a sense of urgency, and Lily quickly moved outside, leaving the
door ajar.

“One of us must have failed to record it, Janie,” they heard the doctor whisper. “I’m
sure that’s what it was. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

When she returned, a smile was back in place. Again, she reassured both Izzy and Nell
that the baby was in fine shape. “Probably finer shape than any of us,” she added.

“Thanks, Dr. Lily.” Izzy picked up the sweater she’d left on the chair and slipped
it over her shoulders, tying it above the large mound of baby. “Even though I know
my baby is fine, it’s always nice to hear it from you. And Sam hangs on every word.
He’d be here today if he weren’t doing a photo shoot in Boston.”

Lily nodded and smiled, but her mind seemed to be elsewhere, beyond the confines of
the small examining room. “Next week, then?” she asked absently. “Check with Janie
when you leave. She’ll set you up.”

Lily walked out of the room and disappeared down the hall.

Nell and Izzy walked back toward the waiting area. It was dark outside now, the neon
lights in the hallway casting shadows along the painted walls. The office door Nell
had looked through earlier was closed, no sounds indicating life on the other side.

But as they turned another corner, Janie’s voice stopped them short.

She was standing between two doorways at the end of the hallway. One opened into a
large, well-lit room filled with computers, filing cabinets, and bookshelves. The
other doorway was partially open, but enough to see a winding staircase leading upward.

Janie’s hands were on her hips, and her cheeks were nearly as red as her hair. “You’re
supposed to be fixing that computer, not roaming around the clinic. What were you
doing up there, anyway?” Her hand pointed toward the staircase. “That door shouldn’t
be open like that. Dr. Seltzer is adamant about it.”

Justin dropped his head.

“No, don’t tell me. I can smell it—your darn cigarettes. You can’t smoke up on the
widow’s walk. Dr. Lily told you that, Justin. You’re going to burn the place down!”

“It was five minutes, Janie,” he began, but Janie didn’t allow any more words.

“Dr. Seltzer lives on the next floor, and that staircase goes right by the back door
to his apartment. He’ll kill you if he finds out you were up there. What are you thinking?”

Justin tried once more to talk, but Janie put out both her hands, stopping him. “It’s
too much, Justin. And look at all these files scattered every which way. Dr. Seltzer
says you’ve lost some of them. I’ve had it, Justin. Just leave. Forget about everything
and just go away.”

Justin’s reply was a plea, his voice pouring out into the hallway. “Hey, I’m sorry,
honest. I’ll fix it all, the charts, everything. One more chance, that’s all I need.”

Janie walked in, scooped up an armful of files, and began backing out of the room.

Justin jumped up from the chair and started to follow her. “I’ll make it up to you.
Things are going to be better now. Honest, Janie. I’m going to be making some real
money. Don’t be mad.” His voice was a plea, so warm and heartfelt it would have melted
chocolate had the air-conditioning not been so high.

“You don’t
think.
That’s your problem. One of them, anyway,” Janie scolded, trying to stay firm. “You’ve
missed a dozen shifts at the Artist’s Palate—Merry is ready to kill you—and you messed
up a whole order of books at Archie Brandley’s bookstore. He was so mad he wouldn’t
even tell me about it. Not to mention the scene at Izzy’s shop today. Justin, sometimes
I could . . . I could just strangle you.”

But the last choked words held a softness, like those of a caring aunt or mother or
teacher trying to hold on to an anger that was slipping away into a warmer feeling.

She turned, moving into the hallway quickly. Too quickly. Her elbow cracked against
the door frame, sending the files in her arms flying in all directions.

“Oh, no,” she cried. One hand rubbed her bruised elbow.

“Let me help.” Izzy hurried forward.

But Justin was there in a split second. “Nope. I got it, ladies.” He crouched down
and began scooping up the folders.

Janie shook her head and managed a smile for Nell and Izzy. “I can’t even blame him
this time. It was my clumsiness.”

Justin stood up, his arms full of files, his eyes begging for another chance.

“Those need filing,” Janie began.

“I know, I know. I’m good at it. I like filing.” Before she could change her mind,
Justin headed back into the room and toward a row of filing cabinets.

“And don’t forget the lab reports that need to go into them. Dr. Seltzer put them
on the desk in there.”

She shook her head once more and began walking toward the reception area, reclaiming
her professional demeanor. “You need an appointment, Izzy. That’s much easier to deal
with than Justin. Next week, right?” She tapped the computer to life.

As Izzy and Janie looked at the appointment screen on Janie’s computer, Nell stood
back and looked down the hall, hoping to say good-bye to Lily.

But Lily was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, silhouetted against a window a short distance away from her was a figure.
For a minute, Nell thought it was just a shadow, a trick of the light shining in from
an office at that end of the hall. But when the figure moved, she recognized Dr. Seltzer.
He had taken off his white coat and replaced it with a tweed jacket and English hat.
In one hand he held a walking stick, his fingers gripping it tightly.

As her eyes adjusted to the hall light, she could see his face more clearly. Steely
gray eyes sat deep in the pale, chiseled face, eyes focused beyond her, not seeing
anything but what was at the end of the hall—two open doorways. The kindness Nell
had seen in his smile earlier had disappeared completely. She turned and followed
his stare.