The Secret of the Villa Mimosa (29 page)

“Nan, nothing,” the duty officer said over the radio.

“Just let me know if a Dr. Phyl Forster calls, okay,” Mahoney said. “It’s important.”

“Will do. Ten-four.” The duty officer signed off.

“You got a new girlfriend?” Benedetti asked curiously. “I thought it was serious with the Italian chick—what’s her name?”

Mahoney sighed. “For your information women have not been called chicks for at least a decade. And the young lady you are referring to still deigns to see me occasionally. When I have the free time.”

“Yeah, you’re right, that’s the problem. Time. They get tired of waiting for ya, find themselves a guy with more sociable hours. Still, some of the guys manage it to the altar. You going to Connors’s nuptials Saturday?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Mahoney said as they screeched to a halt again outside the Hot Trash Bar.

Lying facedown in the alley, the body was surrounded by a crowd of ghoulish onlookers, held back by a couple of uniformed cops. The victim had been mugged coming out of the bar and dragged into the alley, where he had been stabbed and his wallet removed. Several witnesses had seen the culprit take off out of the alley, and they had a description, but no one was willing to say he had seen the killing. Nobody wanted to get involved.

“Par for the course.” Mahoney sighed. And it was. By midnight the body count from the arson attack, the
stabbing, and assorted other homicides totaled four, plus one “critical” hovering between here and eternity in intensive care in the SF General. And the total of suspects behind bars amounted to zero.

He was morosely typing up his reports on the IBM, sipping coffee and munching a cinnamon Danish when the phone rang. “Yeah?” he snarled tiredly.

“Mahoney? Is that you?”

“Doc.” He dropped the Danish and tucked the receiver under his chin. He leaned back, smiling. “Sure it’s me. Who else were you expecting?”

“You sound so … tired.”

“You don’t sound too great yourself, for a lady on a vacation.” He thought she sounded subdued, and he wondered if the arrogant Mr. Hawaii was in the room, listening to her conversation.

“I’m fine,” she said a little too briskly. “I got your message.”

“I’m surprised. The boyfriend didn’t seem to like the idea of another guy calling you. A tad possessive, huh?”

“You said it was urgent,” she replied, ignoring his jibe.

“It is. Look, you had better sit down for this one, Doc. It’s about your friend Millie.” He told her about Bea’s calling and about Millie and what had happened.

He thought Phyl sounded tearful as she said she would never forgive herself for not being there. She told him she would return to San Francisco the following day and would call him when she got back.

Mahoney put the phone down thoughtfully. For a cool, collected lady, she sure sounded uptight. Just like Mr. Hawaii.

23

P
hyl put down the phone and looked at Brad sitting across the room from her. He was smoking a cigarette and drinking brandy. The Doberman, still tense as a coiled spring, was sprawled, as always, at his feet.

“Trouble?” he asked lightly, meeting her accusing blue eyes.

“Why didn’t you give me the message that Mahoney had called? If I hadn’t seen his name written on the pad, I would never have known.”

He shrugged. “I guess it slipped my mind.”

“I know you better than that. Nothing ever slips your mind. You remember every detail of your family’s history.”

“That’s different,” he said curtly. “That’s important.”

“And telling me that someone wanted to speak to me urgently was not important?”

“Well, was it?”

“You didn’t tell me because it was a man calling.”

“I don’t like
anyone
calling you here. You should have respected my privacy. You should not have given him this number.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “I can’t just disappear. I have patients; things happen—”

Brad suddenly stabbed out the cigarette and leaped to his feet. The dog followed, bristling. He grabbed her by the shoulders, thrusting his face into hers. “I told you before,
nothing
is more important than you and me.
You just don’t listen.
” She heard the dog growl softly. “When you are with
me
, Phyl, I expect total devotion.
No one else matters.
Why don’t you understand that?”

“You’re crazy,” she retorted, pushing him away.

He grabbed her by the arm and spun her around to face him. “Is that what you think? You think I’m
crazy.
” His laugh was bitter. “I’m probably the most
rational
person you know, Doctor. At least I know what I want from life, and I go all out to get it.” His expression changed, and he smiled, suddenly gentle, running his hand along her cheek. “And I want you, my beautiful Phyl,” he murmured, “my muse, my confessor. Only you.”

Phyl glanced at him warily. This was more than a lover’s tiff; Brad was crazy with jealousy. “I have to leave first thing in the morning,” she said coldly, pulling away from him.

“But, Phyl, why?” He looked boyishly bewildered. “We’re so happy here together. Please don’t spoil it. Don’t leave me. You see,” he added, almost pathetically,
“I need you.”

Phyl hesitated; he had done one of those sudden about-faces, and he was his old charming self again. Then she remembered Millie. “A friend of mine died suddenly,” she said in a shaky voice. “I have to go back.”

“Phyl. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“Well, now you do.”

She left him and walked to her room. She heard him following her, trailed by the Doberman.

He stood in the doorway with the dog crouched next
to him, watching her pack. Tears for Millie were spilling down her face. “I’ll fly you back myself,” he said penitently. “I’ll go to the funeral with you. You can come back here afterward.”

“It’s too late, Brad. The funeral is already over.”

“Then why do you need to go?”

She sighed, exasperated. “It’s complicated. There is a patient involved. I have to talk to her. She needs me.”

“I told you, so do I.
Need you.
”

Phyl stopped folding clothes into the suitcase and looked at him standing in the doorway. There was a desperate look in Brad’s eyes, and she knew he meant it. She guessed a little jealousy was acceptable, but his bordered on the unreasonable. She went over to him and put her hands on his shoulders. “You’re a fool to be so jealous,” she said softly. “You know I would stay if I could.”

“I guess so,” he said reluctantly. He pulled her to him. “Who is this Mahoney whose number you know so well?”

“Just a friend,” she replied.

Brad clamped his arms around her. “I don’t want you to have any friends,” he whispered in her ear. “I don’t want you to have anyone but me in your life.” His icy tone sent a foreboding shiver up her spine.

In bed later she watched Brad sleeping. He lay on his back, his arms and legs flung wide. She thought with his bronzed, firm-muscled body and silky blond hair, he looked like a statue of a young Greek god. Beautiful but somehow defenseless. She remembered their fight and his menacing face close to hers; he had looked so different then from the man innocently sleeping beside her. Thinking about it now made her frightened. For the first time in their relationship, she began to wonder in a professional way about his instability.

*   *   *

Phyl unlocked the door of her apartment and kicked it shut behind her. She threw her bags on the floor, then hurled herself on the sofa, where she stretched wearily.

Only a few months ago this apartment had seemed like her fortress, her refuge against the world. It had been tranquil, silent, orderly. Her life had a calm routine that she enjoyed. Well, maybe
enjoyed
was not exactly true, but at least she had been in charge of her own emotions, even if she hadn’t allowed them to surface much.

Then she had let down her guard, and now she was involved with a crazily jealous man whose troubles she suspected ran even deeper than mere jealousy. Her good friend had died, and she hadn’t even made it to the funeral. And her patient/protégée had been forced to face a crisis alone when she had given her word she would be there for her.

Phyl sighed angrily. Her carefully controlled world was crumbling at the edges, and she knew it. It was time she pulled herself together.

She picked up the phone and called Bea. To her surprise she sounded cheerful and relaxed.

“I called you in Hawaii, but I couldn’t get through,” Bea said. “I spoke with Detective Mahoney though, and he was a great help. He’s such a nice guy, Phyl, so straightforward. He helped me sort out my priorities.”

“I’m just sorry I let you down,” Phyl said. “And I’m desperately sorry that I missed saying good-bye to Millie. How could I have been so stupid as to not let you know where I was—”

“It’s okay, I understand, and I’m sure Millie would, too. Besides, Nick helped me. He’s been a rock, Phyl. Someone to lean on. I don’t know how I would have coped without him. He’s here now, helping me with the kids. Scott and Julie,” she added.

They talked about the inheritance and the children, and Phyl said it was typical of Millie. She offered to fly
out to be with her, but Bea said she had Nick and for the moment she was okay.

“Just don’t forget my promise,” Phyl told her as they said good-bye. “When you need me, I’ll be there. You can count on it.”

Feeling a little better, she wandered into the bedroom, stripping off her clothes as she went. She stood under the shower, letting the hot water wash away her fatigue—
and her sins.
She wondered what she was going to do about Brad.

Silent and grim-faced, he had flown her from Kalani to Honolulu, but she had insisted on taking a commercial flight to San Francisco.

“Why?” he had demanded angrily. She had not told him, but she knew the reason: it was that she had to start picking up the threads of her independence again before things went too far and she lost all control. She could not allow Brad Kane to dominate her life.

At the airport she reached up to kiss him, but he stepped back angrily. She turned quickly away and hurried through the gate. She felt his eyes burning into her, but she would not look back. If that was the way Brad wanted things, then she wasn’t playing.

She stepped from the shower and wrapped herself in her oversize white terry robe, then wandered into the kitchen, wondering why the apartment seemed so empty. She smiled. How could she have forgotten? Of course. The cat.

She dialed Mahoney’s home number, but there was no reply, so she called him at work. “I’m back,” she said, unexpectedly eager for the sound of his reassuring voice.

“So you are,” he agreed.

“I spoke to Bea,” she said. “I think I straightened things out about not being there for her when I said I would.”

“Right,” he said coolly.

Phyl held the receiver away from her, staring at it,
frowning. What the hell was wrong with Mahoney? “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Sure. It’s just been one of those weeks. You want me to drop off Coco? Or maybe you’re planning another vacation?”

“Hey, Mahoney,” she said, startled, “what’s wrong? I thought we were friends.”

There was a long silence. Then he said, “I thought Mr. Hawaii might be there with you, that’s all.”

She laughed, relieved. “Well, he’s not. He’s home. Alone. On his island.”

“Great. So what are you doing tonight? You got a hot date with someone else?”

“No, I do not have a hot date. And I’m not doing anything. Unless of course, you were intending to invite me somewhere?” She suddenly wanted to see him. “Mahoney,” she said into the strained silence, “the treat’s on me. All you have to do is name the time and place.”

“My place,” he said. “Eight o’clock. And wear something fancy. It’s a wedding.”

“You’re not getting married?”

“Not unless you’re asking me, Doc. No, it’s a colleague. I couldn’t make the ceremony, but this is an Irish-Italian wedding, and there’s going to be dancing and carousing and a hell of a lot of drinking all night long. See you at eight.”

She wore a new red lace dress, short and clinging, with a wide neckline that left her shoulders bare. She swept up her hair, and since she had no fresh flowers, she tucked a big red silk rose into it. She thrust her suntanned feet into high-heeled red sandals and flung a black silk shawl around her shoulders. She looked at herself in the mirror with satisfaction. Her spirits suddenly soared. She didn’t know what she felt about Brad and his crazy jealousy anymore. All she knew was that she was glad it was Mahoney she was dressing up for tonight.