“If she’s smart, she’ll make sure that guy’s never within ten feet of Nicole. And she’ll see to it her daughter enters a drug rehab ASAP.”
Lydia shivered. “I’m glad that’s one worry my daughters never put me through.”
Sol yawned and quickly covered his mouth. “Sorry,” he apologized. “It’s been a long day. Thank God it’s over.”
Lydia grinned up at him. “Ready for bed?”
He returned her grin and pulled her to her feet. “I thought you’d never ask.”
*
After they made love, Sol fell into a deep sleep. Lydia watched his chest rise and fall, listened to his breathing. She washed, got into her nightgown, and curled up next to him. When she awoke at four in the morning, he was still asleep, snoring gently on his back. She was filled with the wondrous knowledge that the man she adored was lying beside her, sharing the passing of night into day.
What else are you prepared to share? The question popped into her mind, startling her because she had no answer. What did she hope to have with Sol? A male-female relationship, to start with.
Lydia grinned, remembering last night’s sexual antics. Sol was a wonderful lover who made her feel young, beautiful, and desired. She’d forgotten the ecstatic joy of early love.
But was this love she was feeling? More important, was Sol someone with whom she could share her life? Attend plays and movies? Share holiday meals? Their time together was extemporaneous. Sporadic. Always dependent on Sol’s work.
“Lyddie.”
His hand reached out for her and she wrapped herself around him, feeling him harden as they began another cycle of lovemaking.
At six-thirty she awoke with a sense of panic. Sol was gone! She was alone in her bed. She was relieved to find him behind the closed bathroom door, singing slightly off-key, in the shower. When he caught sight of her, he slid open the glass door. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I woke up and missed you.” Oh, God, had she actually said that? Was it too clingy? Too possessive? “Let me get you a fresh towel.”
She hurried down the hall and pulled a bath sheet from the linen closet. Thank goodness she hadn’t gone into overly feminine colors like pink or lavender. She raced back to deliver it.
Her heart started to pound as she wondered what came next. Breakfast, of course. She set the table and had coffee brewing by the time Sol came into the kitchen. He kissed her lightly on the lips.
“Good morning, Ms. Krause. Did you sleep well?”
“Very well. What would you like to eat—toast? Cereal? I’ve all types. And very nice jams that my daughter—”
“Lydia.”
She stopped her prattle to stare at him. Sol sat her down in a kitchen chair, and then pulled up a chair alongside to sit beside her.
“I realize my spending the night was unexpected, but it’s nothing to be nervous about.”
“It isn’t?” she asked, and then laughed at how silly that sounded.
He took her hand. “Come on, Lydia, you look more frightened now than when you faced a murderer.”
“This is different. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to act.”
Sol tossed back his head and roared with laughter. Lydia grimaced and flexed her fingers. She sorely wanted to smack him.
“I’m sorry, but it’s like finding out Wonder Woman’s petrified of frogs.”
“Frogs! You equate your staying overnight to frogs?”
“You know what I mean. We care about each other. I stayed over. It’s the natural order of things. Try to take it in stride.”
Lydia nodded. “I will. It’s just that this is all new to me. You’re the first man who’s been in my life since Izzy. I don’t know the rules of the game.”
“The rules are whatever we set up, okay?”
She nodded again.
“We’ll talk about them some time soon, I promise. But meanwhile, could you please pour me a cup of coffee? I have to get down to the station.”
Lydia smiled and filled two cups with coffee. A minute later, his cell phone rang. From Sol’s few comments, she knew he’d be leaving momentarily.
“Talk to you later,” he said as she walked him to the door.
“By the way, did any of Evelyn’s stolen jewelry ever turn up?”
“No, though I have men checking the usual pawn shops and other places.”
“Strange, don’t you think?”
Sol kissed her briefly. “Not really. The thief could have a fence in the city or any place in the world, for that matter. We’ve seen stolen goods show up on eBay.”
“eBay,” she repeated as she closed the door behind him.
Five minutes later, Lydia was in her bathing suit and heading for the indoor pool. She swam her laps with more energy than usual and noticed that more of her fellow residents were using the pool. Probably, she thought, in anticipation of the outdoor pool opening in two weeks. She stopped to greet Benny, George, and Andrew before exiting the clubhouse.
“I heard the police were at Daniel and Evelyn’s house last night,” George said.
“What was that all about?” Benny asked.
Lydia’s natural reticence to share information gave her pause, but only for a moment. The board had every right to know what Stefano’s true character was like.
“The police took Stefano down to the station, along with Daniel’s granddaughter and her boyfriend. It appears he sold them drugs, but by the time the police got there, there were no drugs in evidence so they let everyone go.”
George’s face was grim. “Evidence or not, we don’t want a drug dealer here at Twin Lakes. I’m calling a board meeting now. Stefano will be out just as soon as we vote and make it official. We would have fired him after he came after you and Evelyn, if not for the fact that you insisted you hadn’t seen him inside the truck.”
“Of course,” Lydia said, knowing Denise was bound to come whining to her, begging that she help get Stefano reinstated.
“By the way, the new construction’s going gangbusters,” Benny said. “Come and see for yourself.”
“I will,” she promised. “I’ve been very busy at work. And if I don’t hurry, I’ll be late this morning.”
She went home and was about to step into the shower when the phone rang.
“My God, if I don’t catch you in the morning or late at night, I never get to speak to you,” Barbara said.
“Lot’s has been happening.” Lydia proceeded to tell her friend about Stefano’s arrest, her encounter with Denise, dinner with Mick and Ron, and the police coming to take Stefano, Nicole, and Ringo down to the station.
“My, you’ve been busy!” Barbara crowed.
“That’s not all. Sol stayed over, and I’m kind of bowled over by it.”
“Why? You care about the guy. Have fun.”
“Sure. Right. Only it changes everything. I don’t know how I feel. I mean, I’m crazy about Sol. It’s just that…”
“You don’t know if you want to be in a committed relationship.”
Lydia nodded. A piece she just realized had been floating around in her head suddenly slid into its rightful place. “That’s exactly it! I care about Sol, I really do. But we’re so different. I’ve a job with regular hours. He works all hours, day and night. On one hand, I feel I should want a typical life with him—dinner at seven; Saturday night out with friends. But frankly, Barbara, I’ve gotten used to having time to myself. I like having time to myself.”
“Ah, yes, the independent widow. I know exactly how you feel.”
“Do you?”
Barbara laughed, obviously pleased with herself. “Certainly. I’ve told Andrew I need my personal space.”
“Andrew? Are you talking about Andrew Varig?”
“I am. What other Andrew do we know?”
Lydia paused. She felt happy for Barbara, and at the same time hurt that her friend was only now sharing what was obviously an established relationship. “But why didn’t you tell me when he first asked you out? I just saw him at the clubhouse,” she added as a non sequitur.
“Lydia, dear, between your job, Sol, and looking after Evelyn, you’re hardly around anymore.”
“Sorry,” Lydia said. “But I’m delighted that you and Andrew have found each other.”
“We’ve only gone out a few times—to dinner and the movies. We’ve been keeping a low profile, in case things didn’t gel. But we’ve decided to go to the Fifties Pool Party next month. Do you think Sol might like to go?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Lydia admitted, not bothering to add that she wasn’t sure if she wanted to invite him to the event. It was so—public. “His hours are totally erratic.”
They chatted a few minutes more and made plans to go out to lunch on Saturday.
Lydia drove to work on automatic, her thoughts jumping from Stefano to Nicole to Barbara. Why did people keep changing? Stefano had turned out to be a war criminal, a drug pusher, and maybe a murderer. Nicole was fast on her way to becoming the Bad Twin. And Barbara had begun a romantic relationship without telling her best friend, and was managing it a hell of a lot better than Lydia was handling whatever she had with Sol.
It was a relief to put her efforts into helping Jessica train the new secretary. Her name was Rosalinda Gómez. She was twenty-five years old, spoke English with a lilt of a Spanish accent, and mastered each new task easily and competently. At noon, Jessica left her to man the phones, and ran into the library to do the happy dance with Lydia.
The day moved smoothly ahead. For Lydia that meant no phone calls or sudden appearances of anyone connected to her personal life. Working was essential to her well-being, she realized. Maybe she would take the Carrington Suites managerial position, after all.
She drove home thinking about Sol, hoping he’d call her that evening. She had the odd sensation someone was following her. She checked her rearview mirror as she changed lanes, and was relieved that no car behind her stayed on her tail.
I must be imagining things.
She decided to stop at the organic food mart to pick up some groceries. Maybe she’d invite Sol for dinner tomorrow night.
Lydia parked and went inside, where she filled her wagon with an assortment of fruits and vegetables, then wandered over to the chicken and meat department where some of her favorite cuts were on sale. At the cash register, she nearly gasped. The total was a staggering amount of money. Deciding she wanted every last item she’d bought, Lydia handed over her charge card then signed the transaction. She wheeled her wagon past the automatic doors and paused to remember where she’d parked.
Lydia gasped when she caught sight of her car. The right side of the Lexus was keyed from fender to fender. She touched the deep gash in the metal, and tears welled up in her eyes. Someone had been following her. Stefano. Or perhaps Ringo.
Her hand shook as she called Sol and told him what had happened. His voice sounded flat when he asked if she’d seen anyone she recognized in the vicinity. She said she hadn’t. He told her to drive home slowly, that he’d be sending a patrol car to meet her there. When she hung up she realized the lack of affect in Sol’s voice was because he was frightened for her. For the first time she completely understood why he wanted her to butt out of his homicide cases. He wanted to keep her out of harm’s way. She’d become a liability.
She drew a deep breath and turned on the ignition, then drove home slowly, keeping an eye out for trouble. A police car was parked in front of her house. Lydia waved to Officer McKlusky, and pulled into her driveway. He came over and whistled after seeing the side of her car.
“Hey there, Mrs. K. I see the perps keep on damaging your cars.”
“Don’t they,” she said grimly.
He insisted on entering and checking out the house before waving her inside. The answering machine was blinking. Lydia pressed the button and listened. It was Denise, frantically demanding to know why Lydia had arranged for Stefano to be fired, and swearing repeatedly that “her Stefano” never touched any drug whatsoever.
Disgusted, she was about to erase the message when Officer McKlusky grabbed her hand. “Don’t touch that. We’ll need to make a copy of it.”
Lydia nodded and swooped a meowing Reggie into her arms. He squirmed to be let down. “All right,” she said, and proceeded to open a can of cat food.
Officer McKlusky questioned her about the keying incident, but, as she hadn’t seen a car actually following her, left soon after. Lydia mixed a margarita, which she carried to the small patio outside her living room. The car would cost at least five hundred dollars to repair and paint. She told herself it was a minor inconvenience, a venting of hostility. But it had been vented against her!
She wondered if Stefano was responsible. Or was it Ringo? It was the kind of petty revenge a young person with little regard for the law would take. People like Ringo resented being called to account for their behavior and acted out against anyone who blew the whistle. The keying was the cost of her involvement. She gripped her arms to stop a sudden bout of shivering that had nothing to do with the breeze cooling the early evening. She gulped down the rest of her drink and thanked God that nothing worse had occurred.
Sol called to say he’d stop by around eight to take her out for dinner, if she could hold out that long. Lydia said she’d take a rain check, and offered to make him a meal from some of the food she’d bought instead. She was glad he’d agreed to her suggestion, because five minutes later she realized she was starving. She prepared her dinner and filled a glass with chardonnay. After she’d eaten and finished her second glass of wine, she felt decidedly calmer. She decided to call Evelyn and tell her about last night’s events before an excited neighbor phoned to offer her an overblown version of the incident.
Evelyn’s breathing sounded labored when she answered the telephone.
“Lydia dear, I’ve just spoken to Polly. She and Matt are frantic. Nicole’s gone!”
Adrenalin shot through Lydia. “Are they certain?”
“Oh, yes. Nicole went to take her last final of the term. Graduation’s in ten days. When she didn’t come home for dinner, Polly went up to her room and saw half her clothes are gone. She called the bank. Nicole withdrew every penny in her account.”
Foolish girl. “I suppose she went off with her boyfriend. He’s certainly a bad influence. The police found them in your house, high on drugs. Stefano was with them. It turns out he’s a dealer. The board’s fired him.”