Stabbing Stephanie (24 page)

Stephanie looked uncomfortable. “I suppose that to many people, like you, it wouldn't look very nice at all. But as I've told you, Jane, Gavin doesn't love Faith anymore, and she doesn't love him. Their marriage is simply a business arrangement. So, you see, I'm not really doing anything wrong. I'm not taking anything away from her that she wants.” She smiled serenely. “I'm still her best friend, her oldest friend.”

Jane rose from the bed and crossed to the door. Reaching for the knob, she cast a glance back at Stephanie, who sat facing the mirror above the vanity, staring intently into her own dark eyes.

J
ane reached greedily for one of Florence's fresh-baked banana muffins.

“Uh-uh-uh!”

Jane spun around as if caught doing something naughty. Florence stood a few feet away, her arms folded grandly. “I do not think my banana muffins are on Dr. Stillkin's program . . .” she said, her tone smug and singsong.

“You're right.”

Florence chuckled. “I was only joking with you, missus. If you want a muffin, have it!”

“No, I shouldn't. I'll never look good in my new swimsuits at this rate.” Jane grabbed a fresh banana from the counter, peeled it, and mashed it in a bowl with a fork. Then she got a jar of bran from the cupboard and sprinkled it liberally on the mashed banana. She grabbed a spoon from the drawer and took a mouthful. She couldn't help grimacing.

Florence bent over laughing. “Oh, missus, you should see your face!”

“You
try this and we'll see what kind of a face you make!”

“No, thank you. I don't claim to be skinny, but if I want to take off some pounds, I won't go on any cockamamy diet—if you'll excuse me.”

Jane waved away her concern and had to laugh herself. “In all fairness to Dr. Stillkin, I haven't given his diet much of a chance. It doesn't help that I keep forgetting I'm on it. Or else I remember but don't care!”

“You've had a lot on your mind.” Florence gazed sadly at the plate of muffins. “I just remembered where I got the recipe for those. From Una. She told me her little brothers always loved them the way she made them.” A tear ran down Florence's smooth dark cheek. “Poor Una.”

“Yes,” Jane agreed quietly.

“Have they found out anything, missus? The police, I mean?”

“No, but they're still working on it.” Jane shook her head regretfully. “If only I'd told Detective Greenberg what you told me Una saw, she might not have been killed.”

“Don't do that to yourself, missus. Una swore me to secrecy, and I swore you. You couldn't betray that confidence.”

“No, but if I'd known that by doing so I might have saved Una's life, I would have.”

“Would have, should have. Let's leave it alone. Poor Una's gone and we can't bring her back.”

“True . . . Stephanie loves your banana muffins, too, Florence. Don't forget to save her some.”

Florence gave her a funny look. “She's already had two of them. She was down here at six-thirty, had her breakfast, and left. She said she had some errands to run before work—the drugstore, dry cleaner, I forget what else she said.”

“How unlike her,” Jane said thoughtfully. “Usually she has trouble leaving the house at the same time I do.”

“Who?” Nick asked, appearing in the doorway, his wet hair sticking out in wild brown spikes.

“None of your beeswax. Don't eavesdrop. Here, have one of Florence's muffins and a nice glass of milk. Then we'd better get you to school.”

 

 

Jane stopped in at Whipped Cream to see Ginny. Unlike Florence, Ginny had completely forgotten about Jane's diet and brought Jane a large mug of coffee and an especially delicious-looking apple-raisin muffin, Jane's favorite.

Longingly Jane eyed the muffin's crumbly crusted top glistening with sugar. With a great effort, she pushed the plate away. “Sorry, Ginny, can't have it. Not on Stillkin.”

“Ooh, right, sorry.” Ginny snatched the plate away. “What can I bring you instead?”

“This coffee's fine. I'll have it black.”

Ginny grabbed the cream pitcher from the table and put it on the counter. Then she sat down opposite Jane. “I'll take a break while it's quiet.” The only other customer in the shop was a young man Jane recognized, though she didn't know him by name. He was one of the train commuters to New York who stopped in at Whipped Cream for breakfast.

“So,” Ginny said, “how's Operation Stephanie going?”

Jane laughed. “It's not going anywhere, I'm afraid. Despite Stephanie's conviction that something nefarious is going on at Carson & Hart, all I've seen so far is the usual sort of office hanky-panky, and that all seems to center on Stephanie herself!”

Ginny's eyes widened and she leaned forward avidly. “Really?” she breathed.

“Mm-hmm,” Jane said with gusto. “The woman is—”

At that moment Stanley Greenberg entered the shop. Jane looked up and smiled, genuinely pleased to see him; then she remembered that the last time they'd spoken, he'd been angry at her, and she made her face serious.

But he seemed to have forgotten all about that. He walked over and kissed her on the cheek, greeted Ginny warmly, and took a seat at their table. “Knew I'd find you here at this time of the morning,” he said to Jane. “I keep meaning to ask you how your vacation plans are coming.”

“Very well. I'm going to Antigua day after tomorrow.”

“Really? When did you make this decision?”

“Saturday.”

“Now that you've had more time to consider your vacation plans, perhaps you've changed your mind about taking me with you.” His eyes sparkled devilishly.

The thought appealed to Jane, she had to admit, but she wasn't ready for that yet. “I'm afraid not,” she said with a gentle smile. “Maybe next time.”

“I'm going to hold you to that.”

They all laughed. Then Jane looked at him earnestly. “Stanley, have you got any leads on who killed poor Una?”

His face grew troubled. “We don't exactly have a theory, but there's been a bit of disturbing news that may be related. A dangerous character we thought left Shady Hills some time ago was just spotted in town, prowling around some of the more affluent homes. The man's known to be dangerous. In fact, he's suspected to have killed a man, though it's never been proved. We're looking for him.” Suddenly something occurred to him and he looked at Jane. “You've met this guy. It's Gil Dapero.”

“Gil Dapero!” Jane exclaimed. A chill ran through her at this news. She remembered all too well this thug who had been the boyfriend of her former nanny. Shivering at the thought that he was back, she rose. “I'd better run,” she said, and headed for the door, promising to speak to them both soon.

She stopped in at her office and found that Daniel hadn't arrived yet. She sorted some mail he'd left on her desk, wrote out a few notes for him, and hurried out.

When she entered Carson & Hart, she found Sam at his desk, a smirk on his face. As Jane sat down at her desk, the sounds of Gavin and Faith screaming at each other came from behind Gavin's closed door.

“Morning fireworks,” Sam said without looking up.

The fireworks lasted a good five minutes longer. Then Gavin's door opened and Faith emerged, her face as white as powder. She'd obviously been crying. She marched resolutely to her own office and slammed the door.

Sam looked up. “I guess Mumsy isn't willing to put up with Gavin's philandering any longer. What a day!”

Jane had to smile. “What a day? It's ten past nine.”

“A lot has already happened, though. I got here earlier than usual, and when I came in, I realized someone was already here. I looked around and found Miss Stephanie in the mail room.”

Jane looked across the hall and saw that Stephanie's office was empty.

“The mail room?” she asked softly. “What was she doing in there?”

Sam shrugged. “I went up behind her and said good morning, and she jumped as if I'd stuck her with a cattle prod. Which isn't a bad idea, come to think of it,” he said thoughtfully. “She said I'd startled her terribly—scared the shit out of her, was actually how she put it—and to stop sneaking around. Then she went back to what she was doing.”

“Which was what?”

“It looked like she was packing up a manuscript to mail.”

Jane nodded pensively and started leafing through some papers on her desk.

“But there's more,” Sam said. “I came back to my desk, and after a little while Stephanie came out of the mail room and went to her office. Not long after that, Gavin arrived. He went straight into Stephanie's office and shut the door. I couldn't hear a thing, damn it. After a few minutes, the door opened and Stephanie came out. She was
extremely
upset; she was crying. Ignoring me completely—as always—she grabbed her coat from the closet and hurried out.

“I think Gavin broke up with her. Whatever he did, he must have been upset, too, because he went straight to his own office, closed the door, and hasn't come out since.”

So Gavin and Stephanie, it seemed, had ended their brief affair. That was a relief to Jane. Gavin must have wanted to see Stephanie first thing this morning to tell her it was over. Then he and Faith must have argued again about the affair, even after Gavin told Faith he'd ended it. It occurred to Jane that it would be just like Faith to hurl a few last recriminations at him, even after he'd just told her his transgression was over.

Jane busied herself with her work. As the morning passed, she looked up every so often, expecting to see Stephanie come in. But when noon arrived, Stephanie still had not returned.

J
ane waited until Sam had left for lunch; then she went to the closet for her coat. She'd sneak over to the agency and see what was going on.

“Oh, Lana . . .”

Jane turned. Gavin had come out of his office for the first time today and was striding down the corridor toward her.

She smiled pleasantly and met him halfway. Looking at him now, she realized he really was quite an attractive man, and that he must have been even more so years ago. The image of him and Faith making “savage” love in the abandoned temple flashed into her mind, and she just as quickly forced it out.

“Lana,” he said, his face serious, “I want to talk to you about your cat, Slinky.”

“Winky.”

“Right. Winky. Stephanie said he—”

“She. Winky is a female.”

“Mm. Stephanie said Winky would be just right for the jacket of
Mew's Who's Who.
She said you and she discussed it. Would you be willing to have her pose for it?”

She threw back her head and laughed airily. “My celebricat! Certainly.”

“Marvelous.”

“When would you like her here?”

“Midafternoon would be about right, I think. Say, three?”

“She'll be here.” She shrugged on her coat.

“I'll walk out with you,” Gavin said, grabbing his charcoal-gray overcoat from the closet, and they went out together through the reception room, down the corridor, and onto the elevator.

“And how are you liking our little publishing house?” he asked as the doors opened on the lobby and they started toward the building's rear entrance.

“It's . . . charming. I never realized publishing was so interesting.”

He held the door for her. Outside, it was bright and cold, with a biting wind. The bare branches of the trees that rose at the edge of the parking lot rattled, as if trying to rid themselves of the last of their brown leaves.

“I'm off,” Gavin said, stopping at a white BMW and fishing in his pocket for his keys. Jane remembered that this was the car she'd seen when Gavin and Faith drove Stephanie home after Puffy's party. “Have a nice lunch.”

“Thanks. You, too.” Just as she was turning, she noticed a small slip of paper tucked under one of Gavin's windshield wipers. Gavin appeared to notice it at the same time. He frowned in puzzlement and pulled it out. Reading it, he lowered his brow in a frown.

“Palm reader or car wash?” she called to him with a laugh.

He jerked, as if he'd been unaware she was watching him. He smiled, glanced down at the slip of paper, and laughed a decidedly artificial laugh.

“I'm always finding those on my car when I go to the supermarket,” she said. “Must be a suburban thing.”

“Right,” he said, and crumpled the paper and stuffed it into his coat pocket. “See you later.”

He got in and drove away. Jane started toward the alley leading to Packer Road, then stopped and glanced back at where Gavin's car had been. Not three feet away, at the edge of the asphalt, stood a trash can. Yet Gavin had put the slip of paper in his pocket. Perhaps he hadn't seen the trash can. She shrugged and walked on.

Daniel was happy to see her. He hurried to his desk, where he had arranged little piles relating to various projects on which he needed her input. After they'd discussed these, they went through her mail and phone messages. Then he brought her up to date on the Nat Barre auction.

“This is going to be lively, Jane.”

“Of course it is. It's a wonderful book.”

“All but two of the editors have said they're definitely in.”

“Fabulous. That'll really drive up the price. We'll get this man out of the pharmacy and in front of his computer full-time, writing.”

She thanked Daniel once again for taking care of things while she was away, then drove home and, under Florence's bemused gaze, put Winky in her carrier and grabbed her food and water bowls, a bag of dry food, a small bag of litter, and a large clean plastic garbage bag. She took an apple to eat in the car.

Driving back down into the village, Winky protesting loudly from the backseat, Jane considered parking behind Carson & Hart's building in order to shorten her walk with the heavy carrier. But she immediately nixed this idea. She couldn't afford to be seen pulling in there. Instead she parked in the municipal lot, which was closer to Carson & Hart's building than the lot behind her own building, and hurried with the carrier toward the office building, keeping her head down.

Walking down the alley, she spotted Ivor asleep near the Dumpster and shook her head sadly. Slowly she approached him. He lay on his back, parallel to the edge of the pavement, his arms limp at his sides. His mouth hung slightly open.

She remembered her vow to try to help him and was suddenly filled with new resolve. Gently setting down Winky's carrier and the supplies, she approached Ivor, knelt down, and spoke his name. He didn't respond. “Ivor,” she said again, louder. Still no response. Lightly she touched his shoulder, gave him a tiny shake. Nothing. He was out cold. With a shrug she stood, taking up the carrier and supplies. At that moment a woman who must also have worked in the building started down the alley toward her, and Jane quickly moved on.

When she got upstairs, Sam was at his desk. As Jane placed the carrier on the floor beside her desk, he looked over and his eyes widened curiously. “Is this Take Your Pet to Work Day?”

“For me it is,” she replied in a bored tone.

“Meaning?”

She rolled her eyes. “Gavin wants to use Winky on the jacket of
Mew's Who's Who
.”

He squinted at her. “Winky?” he repeated distastefully.

“Yes, that's her name.”

“Do you know what a winky is in my family?”

“I think I can guess,” she replied, and turned away.

“Gavin is one cheap son of a bitch,” Sam grumbled. “He won't even spring for a stock photo of a damn cat.”

“That's okay,” Jane said lightly. “My son will be thrilled.”

Sam shrugged and returned his attention to his work. Jane looked over and saw that he was playing tic-tac-toe again. She decided to do some filing.

For twenty minutes or so, Winky lay curled up in the carrier, apparently content. Then she began to pace, occasionally mewing at Jane through the carrier's wire door.

“Let her out,” Sam said in an exasperated tone, not even looking up from his
X
's and
O
's.

“Do you think it would be all right?”

He swiveled to face her. “This isn't exactly Random House, Lana. I'll make sure everyone keeps the door to the suite closed so she doesn't get out.”

Jane thanked him and opened the door of the carrier. Winky stepped out gingerly, casting wide-eyed glances around this alien environment. She let out an especially loud cry that sounded like “Mrowlll!”

“Ah, freedom's cry!” Sam said, watching the cat walk toward Stephanie's empty office. “Sally forth and explore, Stinky!”

“Winky!”

He seemed not to have heard her, engrossed again in his game.

Jane watched Winky prowl down the corridor, stepping cautiously, as if the floor might explode at any moment, jumping at the slightest sound. It occurred to Jane that the cat would be back at her desk soon, and she filled Winky's bowl with the dry food and set it on the floor beside her. She carried the other bowl to the ladies' room, filled it with water, and set it beside the food. Finally, she got a cardboard box from Mel in the mail room, borrowed a packing knife from him, and cut down the box's sides. She carried it to her desk and, placing it against the wall behind her, lined it with the plastic bag. Then she poured in a generous amount of litter.

“Home away from home,” Sam said dryly, and rolled his eyes.

Jane ignored him.

Winky did return several times to nibble at her food, but appeared to grow increasingly comfortable with the atmosphere of Carson & Hart, and ventured off to explore farther after each snack.

At two o'clock, Sam rose and announced that he was going out for a cigarette.

“You smoke?” Jane asked.

“Just started.”

She opened her mouth to comment, then thought better of it. Twenty minutes later he was back. “Have you seen Stephanie?” he asked.

“No, why?”

“She's been gone since she ran out of here early this morning. Don't you find that odd?”

Jane wouldn't have been surprised by anything Stephanie did, but kept this thought to herself, too. Perhaps whatever Gavin had said to Stephanie had upset her so much that she had quit. Whatever had happened, Jane would no doubt hear about it from Stephanie herself at the end of the day. Jane just smiled mildly at Sam and shrugged.

“And Mother's been holed up in her office all day,” he murmured, half to himself. Jane regarded Faith's closed door, then returned to her work.

Around three, a haggard-looking Kate emerged from her office and approached Jane's desk.

“Lana, Gavin says you brought your cat for the
Mew's Who's Who
jacket shot?”

“Yes, I'll get her.”

“Here she is,” Kate said, looking down at Winky at her feet, and she knelt to pick up the cat. “What a beautiful kitty you are,” she crooned into Winky's fur. “Aren't you? Yes, yes.” Winky, immediately at home in Kate's arms, began to purr softly. “We're going to make you a star.” She turned to Jane. “I've got everything set up for the shoot. Do you want to help, or can I just take her?”

“She seems right at home with you. Just call me if you need me.”

Kate carried Winky down the hall and into her room, and Jane returned to her desk. Fifteen minutes later, Kate returned with Winky in her arms.

Kate was smiling. “Thanks, Lana. She's a real sweetheart. You didn't tell me about her condition.”

At this, Jane and Sam both looked up with curious frowns. “Condition?” Jane said.

“Didn't you know?” Kate hugged Winky tighter. “This little lady's going to have kittens!”

Jane's jaw dropped. “Winky!”

Sam made a
tsk
ing sound. “Ooh, you little tramp.”

Jane got up and took Winky from Kate's arms. “We
have
been letting her go outside lately. How can you tell?”

Kate gently turned Winky over, exposing her soft white underside. “A rounded belly, for one thing. But I could feel it when I picked her up.”

Jane stroked Winky's belly. Winky mewed in protest.

“She won't want anybody feeling her stomach,” Kate said, gently placing Winky on the floor.

“Any idea when we can expect this blessed event?” Jane asked.

“A cat's pregnancy only lasts two months, a little more. I'd say this lady is about three or four weeks along. You'll want to speak to your vet about what to do when the time nears.”

“Unbelievable,” Jane said. “My son will be ecstatic.”

“You'll have to figure out what to do with the kittens,” Kate pointed out. “I can help you there. And you'll probably want to have her spayed as soon after she gives birth as possible—unless you want more kittens.”

“No—at least, I don't think so.” Jane sat down at her desk. “I'm just so amazed by this news.”

“It
is
earth-shattering,” Sam said, looking utterly bored. He turned to his sister. “Since when are you such a cat expert?”

Kate shook her head in wonder. “I've always loved cats. I can't believe you don't know that about me. Or maybe I can. Mother won't let me have a cat in the new house; she's never let me have one. But when I'm in a place of my own, I plan to have several.”

“How cozy,” Sam said in a falsely sweet tone, and swiveled back to his work.

Kate shrugged, winked at Jane, and headed back down the corridor.

Winky spent the afternoon continuing her exploration of Carson & Hart, appearing at Jane's desk several times, once for a sip of water, once for a snack, and once to use her litter box. Hearing her scratching in the litter, Sam turned in his chair and saw what she was up to. “Oh, for Pete's sake!” he cried, his face contorted in disgust.

But neither Winky nor Jane paid any attention to him, Winky finishing her business and wandering off again, Jane starting some new filing.

At a quarter to four, Winky reappeared at Jane's desk. This time she began mewing insistently, standing near Jane's feet and staring directly up at her.

“What's up, Wink?” Jane asked in puzzlement. “You've got everything you need—food, water, litter box.”

Winky's mewing grew even more spirited.

Jane gazed down at her shrewdly. “Is something wrong? Do you want me to come with you?”

At this, Winky let out a loud yowl.

“Lassie!” Sam cried mockingly. “What are you trying to tell us, girl?”

“Be quiet,” Jane said. She got up to follow Winky, who turned and led the way calmly down the corridor, stopped at the door to the mail room, which stood ajar, and looked up at Jane.

“In here?” Jane asked, and in response, Winky pushed the door farther open with her nose and scooted inside. Jane followed.

Mel stood at the large table in the center of the room, filling boxes with books and Styrofoam peanuts. He looked up and scowled at Jane. “I need my knife back.”

“I gave it to you right after I used it.” She scanned the table. “There it is, where I left it.”