Authors: Sarah Segal

Murder At The Mikvah (44 page)

Sixty-two

“Nice Office.”

Ron took a seat in a tall leather chair, directly across from John who sat behind a mahogany desk.

“Yeah, well Patty works fast,” John said, smiling. “Once she heard that I was moving back inside, she had the furniture sent over from the house. Wallpaper’s coming next week.”

“Impressive,” Ron said. “I’ll have to get some tips from her for my office… hey, what’s with the head?”

John shook his head. “It’s called a
bust,
Ron. Jay made it before he…”

Ron approached the pedestal to get a closer look. “It’s amazing, John—looks just like you,” he said after studying it carefully.

John tapped his pencil. “Yeah, well, my nephew was a talented kid.”

“He’d be glad to see you back, John.”

“That’s what Patty says too…”

Ron gestured with his chin. “Those are from her?”

“The flowers? No. Actually, Father McCormick sent them over. He says they’re called Forget-me-not’s. Says he doesn’t want me to forget what
almost
happened to Peter.”

Ron nodded. “How’s he doing anyway?”

“Peter?” John glanced at his watch. “I’ll tell you what,” he said, standing up and grabbing his coat, “I’ll give you a full report in about an hour. I’m on my way over to the rectory right now.”

The rectory felt different this time. Warmer, cozier. Like a real home, John thought. Samson slept contentedly in front of the fireplace. In the corner, by the bookshelves, a Christmas tree stood, newly trimmed.

“So how’s he doing?” John asked.

“Better,” Father McCormick said with a smile. “Each day there’s improvement. Dr. Danzig just left a few minutes ago— went to spend some time with his grandkids.”

John handed the priest a box of Peter’s belongings. The binoculars lay right on top. “Would it be okay if…?”

“Sure. Go right on up, John.”

But John didn’t budge and Father McCormick sensed his hesitation. “Come on,” he said, placing an open hand on John’s back, “we’ll go together.”

Peter lay in bed, propped up against two pillows, sifting through a shoebox of cards and letters. “Hello?”

“Peter, this is Detective John Collins.”

“
John Collins
,” Peter repeated. “You’re the guy who handcuffed me.”

John cringed and glanced at Peter’s wrist, which, he was happy to see, was now bandage free. John wondered just how much of that night Peter remembered.

“Dr. Danzig told me,” Peter said. A smile spread across his face. “He also told me it’s because of you that I’m a free man.”

John shoved his hands in his pockets and shifted uncomfortably. Peter seemed like a nice guy. A normal, everyday guy. “I’d say Father McCormick deserves credit for that. He never stopped believing in you, son.” John had no idea why he just used the word
son.
For a split second he worried that it might cause some kind of psychological set back in Peter
.
“Anyway,” he added quickly, “I’m glad to see you’re doing better.”

Peter’s expression turned serious. “What’s going to happen to Lydia?” he asked.

John took a deep breath. “Well, it looks like she’ll be serving time for manslaughter.”

Peter closed his eyes. “But it’s not all her fault…”

“Well, it was her actions that killed Estelle Ginsberg,” John said pointedly.

“But I’m partly to blame!” Peter said. He turned to Father McCormick. “I was inappropriate with her, Father. I misled her.”

Father McCormick reacted as though he could see the despondent look on Peter’s face. “What took place between you and Lydia happened a long time ago,” he said.

“From what is sounds like, she wouldn’t take no for an answer,” John offered. “She was more than mildly obsessed with you. Did you realize she was watching you that night?”

“She was?” Peter asked, sitting up. “Oh. I get it. She was watching me watching
them
.”

John nodded. “Samson saw her too. She claims the dog tried to attack her.”

“Samson… her paw,” Peter said. “I thought it was an animal.”

“We both did,” Father McCormick said.

“Lydia was watching you at the window. When you disappeared she assumed you were over there with one of them.”

“She thought I was with a woman when I was actually hiding in my closet?”

John nodded.

Peter covered his eyes shook his head in disbelief. “I still don’t want to see her suffer. Lydia’s not a bad person…”

“Well,” John said, “Hannah Orenstein will be home soon. Her doctor expects that after some physical therapy, she’ll make a full recovery. Her prognosis may help Lydia get a reduced sentence.”

“By you saving Hannah,” Father McCormick offered, “You may have saved Lydia.”

Peter nodded. He felt slightly vindicated. “What she did wasn’t much different than what Roy did,” he said after a moment.

John noted that Peter said “Roy” instead of “my dad”. Peter probably still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that Roy Bunton, killer of his mother and sister, was not only his mother’s
boyfriend
, but also his and Suzanne’s biological father.

“I think he loved her but she didn’t love him back… and it made him crazy.”

“Love sick or not,” Father McCormick said firmly, “humanity cannot survive without morality. God gave us free will, Peter. It’s up to us to make the right choices.”

Sixty-three

“
Hey stranger!” The sight of Judith, looking both warm and glamorous in a long black poncho took Lewis’s breath away. Little Yitzi, doing his best impression of a galloping pony, trailed behind.

“Sorry we’re late,” Judith said. “There was a last minute emergency.” She pushed off her hood and tousled her hair, which she had recently decided to grow out a bit.

“Whew! That’s better!” She gave Yitzi a nod and he took off in the direction of Benji Henner on the slide.

“What kind of emergency?” Lewis asked, expecting to hear about another deadbeat dad.

“I’ll tell you in a second,” Judith said. Her hand disappeared under her poncho and surfaced seconds later with her cell phone. She flipped it open and checked the screen. “Good. No calls, so, everything’s all right.”

“As expected, Judith Orenstein, Esquire has everything under control,” Lewis said with a laugh.

“Try Judith Orenstein,
Nana
,” she said winking. “I’ll have you know, the ‘last minute emergency’ was Rachel getting gum stuck in her hair. She was in the middle of combing it out when I left. I told her to call if she needed me to come back.” Judith smiled coyly at him. “You assumed it was work, didn’t you?”

He held up his hands. “Sorry… I confess… guilty as charged.”

“Well, I can’t say I blame you,” Judith said. “But I do want you to know that work is the furthest thing from my mind right now. In fact, I even hired a partner.” She looked past him, at Yitzi who was flying headfirst down the slide. “I can’t very well be a proper Nana to my grandchildren if I’m working all the time, now can I?”

She couldn’t help but notice the delighted expression on Lewis’s face and it made her heart flutter.

“May I?” he asked, hooking her arm and leading her toward the bench. For a few minutes they sat quietly watching Yitzi and Benji run back and forth across the bridge. Then the boys moved to the swings. They were set so low, Yitzi had to back himself up several feet just to get to a standing position.

“Jaw dominos!” he shrieked before pulling his legs up and flying forward.

Judith covered her mouth, stifling her laugh, as she leaned into Lewis. “Geronimo,” she whispered. “He meant to say
Geronimo
.”

Lewis shook his head. “I wouldn’t have gotten that one… not in a million years.”

Judith burst out laughing, finding the expression on his face incredibly funny. “What?” she asked as he stared into her eyes.

“It’s nice to see you so happy, Judith,” he said. “And by the way, have I ever told you what a beautiful laugh you have?”

“Hmm…” she said, narrowing her eyes. “That wouldn’t be a pick up line by any chance would it?”

He scratched his chin. “I hadn’t considered that.”

“Maybe subconsciously you want to ask me out, but your consciousness just doesn’t know it yet.”

He pursed his lips and nodded slowly as if pondering a complicated matter. “You may just have something there, young lady.”

She poked him with her elbow. “Young lady! Who are you calling
young
?”

“Nana! Nana! Look at me!” Yitzi shouted from the swings. Judith jumped up and waved. “Wow, Yitz! You’re going so high!”

“You never gave me an update on the rectory worker,” Judith said, settling back onto the bench.

“Peter.”

“Yes. Peter. How is he doing?” Judith asked.

Lewis smiled. “He’s going to be just fine.”

“Is it true then?” Judith asked. “Did he really watch as his mother and sister were…?”

Lewis nodded. “It’s a horrific thing for anyone to witness, let alone a child of seven.” Lewis said nothing more, lost momentarily in his own thoughts.
The resilience of children. The complexity of the human mind.
He shuddered when the image popped into his head. A young boy cowering in his closet as his mother and sister were bludgeoned to death, not knowing if he, himself, would live or die.

“So what’s next for Peter?” Judith asked gently.

“It looks like he’s going to move out west with Father McCormick. The archdiocese has managed to arrange a job for him as a grounds keeper for Mt. Lemmon Village.”

“So he won’t be heading home to Michigan?”

Lewis shook his head. “Home? No, Michigan hasn’t been his home since he was a teen, Judith.”

Judith nodded.

“He asked me to visit,” Lewis said. “I told him I would. In fact…” He reached into his jacket pocket. “There’s a beautiful resort about twenty miles south of Mt. Lemmon.” He unfolded the brochure and handed it to her. “See? Trail rides… yoga… hiking… He stretched his legs out in front of him, and folded his arms back, behind his head. “The truth is, I could use a vacation. I’m
ready
for a vacation!”

Judith smiled politely. “It sounds great, Lewis.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he said, sitting up and shifting his body so he was facing her, “because I was hoping you would join me.”

She opened her mouth, about to say something, when he leaned in and kissed her—literally taking her breath away—before she had a chance to object.

The End.