The Girl Next Door (27 page)

“That wasn’t the Kilgore baby?” said Nina. “Whose baby was it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember if they ever found out. It was a newborn. The mother
had smothered it and put it in a trash bag and buried it in the park.”

“A newborn?” Nina said, shaking her head.

“They figured out that it had only been there for a day or two. I guess you missed
that when you were reading the papers.”

“I was only reading about Mom,” said Nina.

“Naturally,” said her aunt.

Nina frowned and continued to unpack her aunt’s suitcase. The phone rang on the bedside
table and Mary picked it up.

“Yes, I’m home,” Mary said cheerfully. “Just got here a few minutes ago. Thank you.
Nina’s taking good care of me.”

Nina glanced at her aunt, who was smiling warmly at her as she spoke. Nina smiled
back.

Aunt Mary put her hand over the receiver. “It’s for you, dear,” she said. “It’s Rose
Connelly.”

Oh no, Nina thought. She took the phone from her aunt. “Hello?” she said in a guarded
tone.

“Nina, it’s Rose. I wonder if you could come over. I need to talk to you.” Nina was
fairly certain that Rose wanted to talk about Jimmy, and Nina didn’t have time for
that discussion today. “I’m really … kind of busy here.”

Nina’s aunt was shaking her head. “You go ahead,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

“Nina, it’s urgent,” said Rose.

“Okay,” Nina sighed. She turned back to the phone. “All right. I’ll be over in a little
while.”

“Please hurry,” said Rose, and the catch in Rose’s voice gave Nina a feeling of dread
in the pit of her stomach.

T
HE
drive to Seaside Park didn’t take long, although it involved crossing several bridges
built to span the swamps of the wetlands. Once past the welcome sign, the atmosphere
changed. The shore town was completely different from Hoffman. For some reason, the
hordes of New York City commuters who clamored to live in the suburbs eschewed this
sprawling
bungalow-filled town. It was an extra half hour away from the city, and there was
a distinct lack of shopping centers in the vicinity. And, of course, the suburban
ideal of having the best schools and cultural life for students was clearly not the
highest priority here. Instead, the town offered ocean, peace and quiet, a lot of
seafood restaurants, and sunsets over the wetlands year-round. Not a bad trade-off,
Andre thought.

Because it was midweek and off-season the town was fairly deserted. Andre had no trouble
finding the street and the neat gray frame house where Lieutenant Jenkins and his
wife, Sally, lived. Andre parked at the curb beyond the driveway and climbed the steps
to the aluminum storm door with an elaborate metal
J
at waist level. He rang the bell and waited.

After a few minutes the inside door was opened by a midde-aged woman with bleached
hair in a perm that had lost most of its curl. She was wearing blue pants and a Fralinger’s
Salt Water Taffy T-shirt with a colorful Victorian design on the front. She frowned
at the sight of the exotic-looking man on her doorstep.

“Yes?” she asked, keeping the storm door securely locked.

“Mrs. Jenkins?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said.

Andre thought about the story he had prepared, given what little he knew about Calvin
Mears. “My name is Andre Quinteros. I’m a physician.”

Andre could see her shoulders relax a little bit when she heard that he was a doctor,
but she still regarded him suspiciously.

“I treated your, uh … sister for several years on and off,” Andre lied.

“I don’t remember seeing you at the hospital,” Sally said.

“Well, unfortunately, I was away when she contracted her final illness. And then,
her death was so sudden. I feel terrible about it. She was still a young woman.”

Sally reached down and unlocked the storm door. She pushed it open just enough to
rest against it. “She went quick,” agreed Sally.

“Tragic,” said Andre. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Sally Jenkins cocked her head to one side. “Thank you. You came all the way down here
to offer your condolences?”

“Well, actually.” Andre held up an envelope. “I have something I have to deliver.
She knew she had a terminal condition, and she asked me to do her a favor. She wanted
to be sure that … um … this went to her son.”

“She didn’t have no money,” Sally said.

“It’s true that she was virtually indigent, but that was why she left this with me.
So that she wouldn’t be tempted to spend it when she got desperate. She asked me to
put it in Calvin’s hands, and she said that in the event of her death, you people
would probably be taking care of him. You know. Being his aunt and uncle.”

“How come she didn’t go to a lawyer?” said Sally.

“She couldn’t afford a lawyer,” said Andre.

Sally nodded at this, as if confirming it was true.

“I volunteer at a clinic. She used to come and see me there,” Andre said. “I guess
she figured she could trust me.”

Sally snorted. “That figures. You’re good-looking.”

Andre smiled thinly. “In any case, I wanted to deliver this to her son.” Andre tapped
on the envelope in his hand.

“He’s not here,” said Sally. “You can leave it with me.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” said Andre. “I promised your sister I would bring this
to him and put it into his hands.”

Sally peered at the envelope. “How much is it?”

Andre gave her a reproachful look. “It’s not a great deal of money. But it was her
wish for her son to have it.”

Sally gazed at him thoughtfully. “This isn’t some scheme you cooked up with that Keefer
guy to get to Calvin, is it?”

“Excuse me?” Andre asked politely.

Sally looked out at Andre’s car at the curb. The M.D. plates were clearly visible.
She looked back at Andre and then sighed. “This sounds like something Penny would
do. Oh well. All right. He’s not staying with us. We crowd him, he says. He’s staying
over at the Ocean Breeze Motel. Unit 408. You know where that is? It’s a few blocks
in from the boardwalk.”

“I imagine I can find it,” he said.

“I’m gonna call Calvin and tell him you’re coming,” she said. “If he don’t want to
let you in, that’s his business. You can slide it under the door.”

“That’s fine,” said Andre. Despite her lackluster appearance, this woman was nobody’s
fool, he thought. He wondered if he could get to the Ocean Breeze Motel before Calvin
decided to bolt. Of course, Calvin would be curious about the envelope with the money.
That might be enough to make him stick around. Andre had to hope so. “You have a nice
day,” he said.

Andre walked back to his car and was leisurely about getting into the driver’s seat,
for the benefit of the cop’s wife still watching him from the doorway. He adjusted
his mirrors and checked all his locks before pulling slowly away from the curb. Once
out of her sight, however, he navigated through town screeching around corners, past
blinking red lights, and accelerated to the speed limit on the deserted road that
ran past the wetlands toward the boardwalk.

The Ocean Breeze Motel was not difficult to find, and luckily he had the room number
already. There was a large parking lot in front of the fifties-style motel, but room
408 was in back. Andre drove around and parked his car. There were a few other cars
scattered in the parking spaces, and beyond the parking lot, an empty swimming pool
with a single round table and a few overturned plastic chairs beside it. Outside of
a room down the walkway was a chambermaid’s
rolling cart, piled high with towels and cleaning supplies, but no signs of the chambermaid.

Andre got out of his car and, noting the sequence of numbers on the doors, walked
in the opposite direction from the cart until he spotted room 408. He could see a
sliver of light inside the room, like a glaring crease along the seam of the blackout
drapes. He lifted his fist to knock on the door, but before his hand made contact
with it, the door was pulled open from within.

A lean young man with dishwater-blond hair and startlingly handsome features opened
the door. He was pale and sweaty, and his fine gray eyes were wide with fear.

“Are you the doctor my aunt called about?” he demanded.

Andre frowned and took a step back. “Yes,” he said slowly.

“Thank God.” He looked anxiously up and down the deserted walkway and grabbed Andre’s
sleeve. “You gotta help me. He’s dying.”

T
HE
inviting smell of cinnamon and yeast emanated from the Connellys’ house when Rose
opened the door. But the look on Rose’s face was anything but welcoming. She did not
smile at Nina as she asked her to come in, and every crease and sag on her middle-aged
face seemed more pronounced than usual.

“It smells good in here,” said Nina, trying to be pleasant.

“I made bread. It was something to do with my hands,” said Rose abruptly. “Sit down,
Nina.”

Nina sat on the taupe love seat. Rose sat at a right angle to her on the couch. Over
Rose’s shoulder, Nina could see a framed photograph of Jimmy and young Anthony, arms
around each other’s shoulders, smiling for the camera. “What’s the matter?” said Nina.
“You sounded upset on the phone.”

“I’ll get right to the point,” said Rose. “I want to know what happened yesterday.
With Jimmy. You left here looking for him. Did you find him?”

“Well, yeah. Actually, I found him at … Didn’t he tell you?” Nina asked.

“He was out all night,” said Rose. “He said he slept at Patrick’s. He was surly this
morning when I tried to talk to him.”

At least he came home, Nina thought. Maybe Rose didn’t know he’d been drinking. “Maybe
he was tired,” Nina suggested.

Rose looked at Nina with a disappointed expression on her face. “Please, Nina. Don’t
try to fog me. I’m not the sharpest tack in the box, but I’m not a fool either.”

Nina reddened and looked away from the older woman.

“I think … Jimmy was drinking.”

Nina tried to look surprised.

“Jimmy thinks I don’t know,” said Rose calmly. “He forgets the years we went through
with him when he was trying to kick the drugs and the alcohol. This morning it was
obvious. I could still smell it. I could see it in his behavior. He’s like a different
person when he’s high. Where was he when you found him yesterday? Was he drunk?”

Rose was obviously not inclined to hysterics or to mincing words, Nina thought. She
was not going to be put off with excuses. “He was at a funeral,” Nina said.

“Whose funeral?” Rose asked, surprised.

“Penelope Mears. She was the mother of …”

“Oh, God,” said Rose. “Oh no. It’s Calvin Mears, isn’t it? Calvin Mears is back in
his life.” She shook her head. “Lord help us.”

“Well, actually, I don’t know about that. Calvin was in town for his mother’s funeral.
I think Jimmy was just trying to be … supportive, you know.”

Rose shook her head. “That’s who called him this morning. I could see the difference
in Jim right away. That’s where he is,” she said grimly.

“What do you mean?”

Rose looked at her balefully. “This morning he told me he was going to change his
clothes and go to work. But his boss called from Hoffman Flooring. Jimmy never showed
up. He just … disappeared.”

Nina tried to think of something reassuring to say, but the words stuck in her throat.

“He’s with him,” said Rose. “With Calvin. I’ll bet you any money.” Rose shook her
head and then looked up at Nina. “Was he drinking when he was with you yesterday?”

Nina didn’t want to be a snitch. But apparently her face gave her away.

“I see,” said Rose grimly. She shook her head. “I’m afraid for your brother.”

Nina chewed her lip and thought it over. Then she spoke quietly. “So am I.”

For a minute, they sat in silence. Then Rose sighed. “No one can make him stay straight
if he doesn’t want to be. No one can do that for him,” she said. “But I’m afraid if
he goes into another tailspin, he won’t be able to pull himself out of it.”

Nina thought about her brother and Calvin Mears. “You said Calvin Mears called,” said
Nina. “Do you have Caller ID on your phone?”

Rose frowned. “Yes. I think maybe we do. I never use it. Anthony wanted it.”

“Can I see?” said Nina. “It’s worth a try.”

Rose led her to the phone and Nina picked it up and scrolled the Caller ID messages.
“Ocean Breeze Motel,” she said. “Do you know anybody there?”

Rose shook her head.

Nina showed her the time on the identification window. “Is this about the time when
Mears called?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Rose.

Nina dialed the number and asked the woman who answered for the motel’s location.
Then she put the phone back in its vertical cradle. “It’s a motel in Seaside Park.
I’m going down there,” she said.

Rose shook her head. “Nina, it’s up to Jimmy. You can’t make him give up his addictions.
He has to do that himself.”

Jimmy is with Calvin Mears, Nina thought. “I just want to find him,” she said.

W
HILE
she gassed up the car at the local service station, Nina called Gemma’s house. The
machine picked up. She tried Gemma’s cell phone and this time Gemma answered.

“I hear Jimmy spent the night at your house,” said Nina. “Where are you? You sound
like you’re in the car.”

“I was at the university library,” said Gemma. “Yeah. You’re right about Jimmy. Patrick
had to go pick him up at a bar.”

“I think he’s in trouble,” said Nina. “He told the Connellys he was going to work
this morning, but he never made it there. I think he went to meet up with Calvin Mears.
You probably don’t remember him …”

“Yes, I do,” said Gemma flatly. “He used to call me Bones.”

Nina winced. She knew that Gemma had endured a lot of teasing about her scrawny appearance
in school. “Well, he’s a jerk. He always was. Anyway, I’m going to try to find Jimmy.
Calvin and Jimmy are a bad combination. Listen, Gemma, I need a favor. Can you pick
up my aunt’s prescriptions at the Village Pharmacy and bring them to her? The pharmacist
said she can’t have all of them ready for at least an hour, and I want to get on my
way.”