Broken Vows Mystery 03-In Sickness and in Death (24 page)

I didn’t know what to say.

He pulled himself taller in the chair and squared his shoulders. “But I grew. I wear contacts now. I look good.”

I had to smile. “You do look good, Maury.” His dark hair had a fashionable cut, tight on the sides, spiky on the top. His skin was clear, which it didn’t used to be. But then, in high school, whose skin was? No longer hidden by thick glasses, his brown eyes didn’t look as fearful as they used to. Of course, the football team wasn’t here. He might still jump in a locker to avoid them if they appeared. “Do you have a job?”

He slumped again. “Not at the moment.”

“Are you really married to my sister?”

“Yes! We went to Niagara Falls. It was very romantic. I have pictures.”

I didn’t like the sound of Niagara Falls. That’s where my parents went on their honeymoon. It would be just like Erica to follow in Mom’s footsteps. “Do you have a marriage certificate?”

“At the apartment. Why? Do you want to see it?”

“Yes, Maury, I do.”

____

About a mile away from the psych center, the sparse homes in the surrounding area disappeared in the side view mirror, and I realized I was alone in a car with a man I’d thought had the potential to be a serial killer. Alone, and headed in the direction of an even more isolated place, his apartment. Worse, I hadn’t told Cory or Ray that it would be necessary for Maury to drive me back to my car. It would take them awhile to figure out where to look if I didn’t come home today.

I glanced at the side view again. No other cars in sight. At least I didn’t have to worry about getting shot at, unless Maury had a gun. I had considered him a possibility for my assailant at the grocery store parking lot, and here I was letting him drive me around. I’d like to think I was brave, but I knew I was more like stupid.

I glanced at him.

His eyes were on the road, his posture rigidly upright, hands gripping the wheel firmly in the ten and two o’clock position.

Geek.

The hills and trees flew by the window. I had no idea where we were. I knew how to get to the psych center from Wachobe and how to get to Maury’s apartment from there, too. But I had no idea how to get from the psych center to Maury’s. He could be driving in the opposite direction. I wouldn’t know. One stretch of farmland looked pretty much like the next.

Ray’s words came back to haunt me.
You have to watch out for the quiet ones
.

My heartbeat accelerated. I felt my armpits dampen, then a trickle of sweat ran between my breasts. A few more minutes and I’d be short of breath with a full-blown anxiety attack. I recognized the symptoms. I’d had a few over the past few months. And here I was ready to hyperventilate without a paper bag.

Maury made a right turn and his apartment building came into sight.

I took a deep cleansing breath like Dr. Albert had suggested. My heartbeat slowed.

Maury parked next to my Lexus. Why, in an otherwise empty lot, do we always park next to the one car in it? Are we so afraid to stand out from the crowd?

Maury got out of the car and took off at a fast pace for the stairs. He didn’t even check to see if I was behind him.

Hard to believe he planned to attack me when he didn’t even care if I came inside. I huffed and puffed my way up the four flights of stairs again, my knees snapping and popping as I tried to catch up with Maury. For thirty-eight, my body was sure going south, in more ways than one.

As we reached the top of the stairs, I could see the door to Maury’s apartment stood open. We may have left it that way. Surely no one would want to steal any of his meager possessions.

He rushed inside and across the living room and began to dig through a stack of magazines and newspapers, leaving me to close the door behind us. I thought about leaving it open in case I had to scream for help, but with the empty parking lot, what would be the point? I closed it, leaning against it in case I needed to flee.

“Here it is!” Maury waved the white document in triumph. He strode across the room with more confidence and held it out to me.

It was all there in black and white. I repeated the clergyman’s name in my head over and over, not wanting to pull out a piece of paper and write it down in front of Maury like I didn’t trust him or something. After all, he was my new brother-in-law. He was family now.

What was the old saying? You can pick your friends but not your family? How appropriate.

“Congratulations.” I hoped he didn’t hear the sarcasm in my voice.

He beamed. “Thanks.”

“I’ll tell Dr. Albert to have Erica call you as soon as she’s allowed.” I glanced around the room, looking for a phone. “What’s your number here?”

“I use my cell.”

“Okay.” I took out a piece of paper and wrote down his number. Then I quickly added the clergyman’s and witnesses names, too, and shoved the paper back in my purse. “Well, I guess that’s it. I’m sure we’ll be in touch.”

Maury blinked.

I opened the door and stepped out onto the landing.

“Hey, Jolene?”

I turned back.

He was leaning on the door frame, one hand in his pocket. “Is Erica allowed to get flowers? Do you think she would like roses?”

How special. I managed a weak smile. “Why don’t you wait a few days? Maybe take something when you go to see her. But you know, Maury, that reminds me. Did Erica tell you about her friend Josie Montalvo?”

Okay, so I told a little white lie, but I figured he’d be more inclined to answer if he thought Erica was involved.

He shook his head. It was hard to tell for sure, but he didn’t seem to recognize the name.

I tried again. “Actually, that’s her stage name. Her real name is Jessica James. She was a stripper at The Cat’s Meow.”

His expression morphed into recognition. “Erica didn’t mention her, but I know The Cat’s Meow.”

“Do you know any of the girls who worked there?”

“Not really.”

“Do you go there?”

He stiffened. “Not anymore. I’m a married man.”

I resisted the impulse to roll my eyes. He’d as much as admitted to visiting the club, just “not anymore.”

“Erica will be pleased you feel that way, but she doesn’t have any objections to an unmarried man having a good time. Did you ever go there and …”—how could I put this delicately—“have a good time with one of the girls?”

Revulsion washed over his face. He reached for the door. “Those girls are nothing but trash, Jolene. I wouldn’t touch them with a ten-foot pole.” He slammed it shut.

Revolting, untouchable trash. That’s what he’d said.

How come his answer didn’t make me feel any better?

I drove back to
the shop, wondering about Maury’s statements. It probably wasn’t so unusual to be both attracted and repelled by the dancers at the club. Like Ray said, men liked to look. Most men might even want to touch, but if their brain could overpower their sex drive, they probably wouldn’t want to touch one of those girls, who, let’s face it, had more fingerprints on them than a doorknob. If they did touch, they might feel remorse and shame afterwards. The few that teetered on the mental edge might want to stamp out the source of their shame—the girl. That was an old story, but history does repeat itself. Was it now Maury’s story? Had Maury, unable to attract a nice girl even with attention and roses, succumbed to the temptations of a prostitute, then killed her in a fit of disgust?

I tried to picture him doing that.

Instead, I saw the captain of the football team stuffing Maury in a locker while the rest of the team cheered him on. Erica had told me that story one day when she came home from school. She’d cried. She couldn’t believe they had been so cruel. In fact, she’d been the one to release Maury from the locker. Erica had a kind heart.

Maury could have years of anger built up inside. Now that he was physically able, had he taken it out on someone weaker than himself?

Stranger things have happened.

Like my sister marrying Maury.

What were ya thinking, Erica?

I pulled into the parking lot behind Asdale Auto Imports and entered the shop through the garage to find Danny sitting in the race car while Cory explained all the instrumentation to him. Cory looked up with questions in his eyes when I appeared.

“Hey, Jo. How’s Erica?”

“Dr. Albert admitted her to the psych center. She’ll call in a few days.”

Cory nodded. He knew the drill. “What about Maury?”

“He’s my new brother-in-law.”

“Huh.” He didn’t seem all that surprised, but then again, he knew Erica.

“Yeah, huh.” Further elaboration wasn’t required. Cory would know what I was thinking. But at his age, Danny shouldn’t know, and he’d been following our discussion like a tennis match. I opened my mouth to try to explain, but I didn’t have the energy or the desire to hash it all over with him. It was what it was.

Instead, I gave Danny what I hoped was an encouraging, carefree smile and started toward my office. I’d set an example of how to take life in stride. Besides, if we discussed the issue any further, I might let a swearword, or two, go—not the example I wanted to set. “Any calls?”

“Just one. Celeste called. You’re supposed to call her back.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. “Celeste Martin?”

“Is there any other?”

Thank God, no. This was a first. I don’t believe Celeste had ever called me. In fact, since high school, the only time we spoke was when I went in her store or ran into her somewhere—except, of course, for the time I confronted her at home about dating my father. She certainly had never, ever called me. But, then, I didn’t ever have any gossip to share. I wondered if that was what she was after now.

Curious, I walked through the showroom into my office and shrugged off my jacket. As I reached for the coat rack to hang it, I caught sight of Celeste crossing the street in my direction. She must have been watching Main Street for my car.

I froze.

She didn’t wait for the light. She didn’t wait for the oncoming automobile, either. She held out her left arm in the “stop” position and walked right in front of it. It halted inches from her kneecaps. She didn’t spare the driver a glance.

The bells jingled on the front door when she breezed through. Her heels clicked across the showroom floor. “Jolene, you didn’t call me back.”

I shook off my shock and finished hanging my coat on the rack. “I just walked in, Celeste. Is something wrong?”

“Your sister has been admitted to the psych center.”

“Oh.” So much for patient confidentiality. “I know. I delivered her there myself.”

For a moment, Celeste appeared deflated. Then she fluffed up again. “She married Maury Boor.”

I sat behind my desk and gestured for Celeste to sit down as well. “I know. He told me.”

She sniffed.

“How did you hear?” I leaned forward, curious to unlock Celeste’s secrets for a change.

She seemed to consider a moment before deciding to answer. “Mindy’s cousin Emma works at the florist shop. Maury came in and purchased a dish garden for your sister. He asked to have it delivered to the psych center, along with a card that read ‘Like our love, this will grow forever. Your husband, Maury.’”

There you have it. Sweet as saccharine.

Celeste continued, “Emma was shocked.”

I waited for more.

Celeste examined her fingernails as if she hadn’t left me hanging.

I got it. She needed me to admit I didn’t know something. “Why was Emma shocked, Celeste?”

“Because Maury always buys roses, lots of roses. He’s bought so many roses for so many women Emma thinks he’s crazy.”

I cringed. Another certifiable in the Asdale clan after all my years of trying to avoid it. “Literally?”

Celeste shrugged. “Well, no, but he tries too hard. He buys roses for girls he doesn’t even know yet. Emma tried to explain to him once that he might want to get to know a girl first before he gives her flowers. He didn’t seem to get it. She said he’s spent thousands on roses in the shop over the years.”