Murder With Reservations (18 page)

She liked the arms that held her and the chest she leaned against. Well tanned, well muscled and not too much hair, just enough to know he was a man. Oh, yes. Phil was definitely a man. He never wore jewelry, and that was good, too. Helen didn’t like pinkie rings, bracelets, or gold chains. They made men look like mobsters.

One foot stuck out of the sheets. Phil had nice feet, slender and neat. Rob’s feet were hairy, with gnarly yellow toenails. Her ex looked like a bear coming out of hibernation. She’d bought Rob an expensive pedicure set as a hint, but he’d laughed at her. “I don’t need to fix my feet,” he’d said. “Women find me attractive right down to my toes.”

It didn’t occur to Helen till later that Rob never wore sandals or hung around the pool. So how did these women see his naked feet?

Why am I tormenting myself with memories of Rob when I’m in bed with another man? Helen wondered.

Because Rob can take me away from all this: The afternoons with Phil. The poolside wine sessions with Margery. My new life could be destroyed tomorrow.

“What’s wrong?” Phil said, sitting up suddenly. “You were twitching, like you were angry at something.”

“Why do you say that?” Helen said.

“First, because you woke me up,” Phil said. “Second, because whenever you want to avoid a question, you answer it with another question. You were thinking about Rob, weren’t you? He’s the only person who can upset you like that. But you won’t talk about him with me.”

“One man at a time is enough,” Helen said.

“You also use jokes to avoid the subject,” Phil said.

Helen rolled on top of him and licked his ear with light little flicks. “I’m not wasting another moment of my life on that man,” she said. “Not when I have someone as tasty as you.” Her tongue worked its way down his neck.

“Sex,” Phil gasped, “is another avoidance technique.” Helen was down past his waist. “Does it work?” she asked.

“Oh, yes,” he said. “Yes, yes, yes.”

It was six o’clock when Helen woke again to the sound of gentle snoring. She was still in Phil’s arms, but her lover and her cat were snoring a duet. Both had the same whistling after-wheeze. Helen giggled, and Phil and Thumbs both woke up, blinking in the waning light and looking slightly offended.

“What’s so funny?” Phil said.

“You and Thumbs were snoring together.”

Thumbs sat up and butted her hand, then meowed loudly.

“I don’t speak cat. What’s he want?” Phil said. “Dinner,” Helen said. “He’s hungry.”

“Me, too. How about if I get us carryout from the Lotus Chinese Kitchen?”

“Shrimp with snow peas?” Helen said.

“Kung pao chicken with lots of red peppers for me,” Phil said.

“You like it hot,” Helen said.

“Tell me about it.” Phil slapped her rump as he started to dress. He was out the door a few minutes later. Helen slipped on a silk robe and went about the house in a dreamy glow, picking up the clothes she’d left scattered on the floor. She was stripping her bra off a lamp shade when she heard a knock on her door.

This time she was alert enough to check the peephole. It was Margery, in a purple off-the-shoulder top and eggplant short shorts. Helen couldn’t see her landlady’s shoes, but she did see a big plate of strawberries dipped in chocolate.

“You can bring those anytime,” Helen said when she opened the door.

“Figured you’d worked up quite an appetite, judging from the moans coming out of this apartment. Nice bra.”

Helen looked at the flimsy black lace and blushed. The residents of the Coronado lived like boaters in a marina, pretending not to see or hear their neighbors.

“Hey, I’m glad you took my advice about Phil,” Margery said. “Where is he?”

“Phil went to get dinner,” Helen said.

“I told you that man was a find,” Margery said. “Do you know how many men would expect you to cook for them afterward? Now that lover boy is gone, I wanted to tell you my plan to get rid of your ex.”

“You have a plan?”

“All nice and legal,” Margery said. “And almost guaranteed. I’m going to introduce him to a rich widow friend. Marcella—I’m not sure which last name she’s using now—is in town this week. I’ve arranged to have her meet Rob for drinks by my pool tonight.”

“Is Marcella staying with you?” Helen asked.

Margery laughed. “With me? Helen, she has a yacht in Port Everglades with a helicopter, a pool and a cook.”

“Ohmigod,” Helen said. “Maybe I should meet her.”

Margery gave one of her sinus-busting snorts. “Stay inside between nine and midnight. I want this meeting to take place by moonlight. Marcella will look her best then. I’m sure you can find some way to keep yourself occupied.”

“Margery, I’m speechless with gratitude,” Helen said. “But why would you sic Rob on your friend?”

“Marcella can take care of herself. She’s about sixty, but looks forty. She likes men his age, and she throws around money. Rob will love her.”

“Rob will live off her.”

“Exactly,” Margery said. “She’s an old-fashioned girl. Like Liz Taylor, Marcella has to marry the men she sleeps with. Once Rob is married to a moneybags like her, he’ll forget all about poor you. He won’t even be in Lauderdale. Marcella sails the Caribbean in that yacht. She’ll take him away from here.They’ll stay at the finest island resorts. You won’t have to worry about him ever again.”

Margery stood there, smiling. With a lit cigarette for a magic wand, she made an unlikely fairy godmother. But Helen knew her landlady could perform magic. “I hardly know what to say, except Rob doesn’t deserve this. But I’ll repeat it: Do you want to do this to your friend?”

“Marcella knows how to handle spongers,” Margery said. “She’s used to them in her world. She’s a big girl. I think he’s just her type.”

“Well, she’s your friend,” Helen said.

“And you’re my friend,” Margery said. “You’ve lived in fear of this rat for too long. It’s time you got a little help. I’ll knock on your door and give you the all-clear when they’re both gone.”

She stopped suddenly. “I hear someone clomping down the sidewalk. I hope that’s Phil. I’d better put more citronella candles out by the pool. I don’t want this romance nipped in the bud by hungry mosquitoes.”

Helen laughed. She never expected a happy ending to her Rob problem. She wouldn’t mind her ex flitting from one island to another if she never saw him again. She peeked out the blinds to make sure it was her man, then ran to open the front door. Phil was carrying two steaming take-out bags.

“Hello, handsome,” Margery said.

Phil gave his landlady a kiss on the cheek. “What have you got for me?” he said.

“Dessert,” she said, holding out the plate of strawberries.

Phil popped one in his mouth. “Want to join us for dinner?” he said. “We have plenty of food.”

“You don’t want an old lady like me hanging around,” Margery said, batting her eyelashes outrageously. “Have fun.”

She was out the door. Helen was relieved. Even with gray hair and wrinkles, Margery could cast a spell over men.

Helen brought out plates and silverware, and Phil opened the take-out cartons. They ate huge mounds of Chinese food and fed the leftovers to the cat. Then they fed the strawberries to each other.

“Oops,” Phil said. “You dropped some chocolate on your chest. Let me help clean it up.”

That led to another long, slow session in the bedroom. It was nearly nine o’clock when Phil said, “What did Margery really want?”

Helen was in a love stupor, too languid and lazy to consider her words. “She’s fixing my ex up with a rich older woman.” Helen pulled Phil closer to her.

Suddenly Phil was in no mood for love. He sat straight up in bed. “What? You know where Rob is staying in Lauderdale? Why didn’t you tell me? I’ll go over there and beat that creep to a pulp.”

“You will not,” Helen said. “There’s no need to act like a caveman. Margery has a foolproof plan.”

“With that fool, Rob?”

“Calm down,” Helen said. “Margery is a first-rate matchmaker. If this works out, Rob will be out of my hair forever.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Phil said.

“We’ll worry about that later,” Helen said.

“Can I at least see this guy?” Phil asked.

“Sure. He should be passing by this window any minute. He’s meeting his date by the pool.”

Helen turned off the lights and cracked the mini-blinds. They waited in the dark. Phil tickled her neck and held her close. “Helen, I love you,” he whispered in her ear. “I don’t want you to live on the run anymore. Let me help you. This is what I do for a living.”

Helen heard footsteps on the concrete walkway. “Shush,” she said. “It’s him.”

Phil peeked out the window. Helen did, too. The man who’d ruined her old life was strolling down the sidewalk, whistling out of tune.

“That’s Rob?”

Helen nodded.

Phil gave a harsh laugh. “You married that dork?”

H
e’s bald,” Phil said. “He is not,” Helen said. “His hair’s just a little thin on top.”

“A little thin?” Phil said. “His hair’s a little thin the way Mr. Clean is a little bald.”

If Rob reached through that window, he could touch me, Helen thought. It was creepy that her ex was so close. He’d give anything to lay hands on me, and I’m within his reach. Rob ambled by her apartment unaware.

Phil and Helen crouched below the windowsill, arguing in whispers.

“He looks like an elf,” Phil said. “His ears are pointed.”

“They are not,” Helen said. “Rob is no movie star, but that’s the secret of his success. Men like him because they think he isn’t a threat. They let him hang around with their wives because they see him as safe. Women think he’s cute. He makes them laugh. You’d be surprised how many women would rather have a good laugh than a good body.”

“In my case, they get both,” Phil said. Helen was in no mood for jokes. “Everyone underestimates Rob. A woman starts out treating him like a brother, and the next thing she knows she’s committing incest.”

“Oh, come on,” Phil said. “You make him sound like a chick magnet. He has a potbelly.”

“Only a little one,” Helen said.

“Why are you defending him?” Phil said.

Why am I? Helen wondered. She didn’t care about Rob. But she couldn’t stand that Phil thought she was a fool for loving Rob. She wanted him to see Rob’s attraction.

“Look at that loser,” Phil said. “This is the man you’ve been running from? He couldn’t find the beer at a Super Bowl party.”

“Shut up, Rob,” Helen said.

“Rob?” Phil said.

“I mean Phil,” Helen said.

Helen peeked out the window again. She could see her ex-husband sitting by the pool, charming Margery, while she and Phil hissed at each other like caged snakes. Rob always left unhappy couples in his wake.

“I admit I’m upset at seeing him,” Helen said. “But there’s no need for us to argue. I thought we’d settled this. Rob is meeting Margery’s rich friend tonight. Hopefully they’ll like each other and get married.”

“Helen, that’s a ridiculous plan. What intelligent woman would marry that feeb?”

“I did,” Helen said.

“You were young,” he said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I’m so glad you forgive me,” Helen said. “But I was forty years old when I walked out on Rob.”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Phil said.

“Which way did you mean it?” Helen said.

Phil finally seemed to realize he’d been tactless. “Helen, I will do anything to help you. Anything. Let me take care of this guy for you.”

If Phil had taken Helen in his arms then, she might have said yes. Instead he gave her an annoying smirk and said, “Besides, how hard can it be? He looks clueless.”

“I warned you, don’t underestimate him,” Helen said. “Rob tracked me to the Coronado. He won’t go away. He needs money in the worst way. He’s bankrupt if he can’t work out some sort of settlement with me. That’s why Margery is trying to fix him up with Marcella. If he’s busy chasing her money, he won’t try to get the little bit I earn.”

“Why would Margery do that?” Phil asked.

“Because she cares about me.”

“I know that,” Phil said. “Why would she do that to Marcella?”

“She says Marcella is older and can take care of herself.”

“She’s probably smarter about men.”

He did it again. He treated her like a moron. Hot anger flared up in Helen. “What did you say?”

“I’m sorry, Helen,” Phil said, but he didn’t sound sorry. “I can’t believe you let this twerp ruin your life. How could you give him so much power?”

“I didn’t give him any power. The court did,” Helen said.

“You should have stayed and fought. Thanks to Rob, you’re working way below your capacity.”

“He did me a favor,” Helen said. “If Rob disappeared tomorrow, I still wouldn’t go back to a corporation.”

“I didn’t say you had to work for IBM,” Phil said. “But you don’t have to be a hotel maid, either.”

“What’s wrong with making an honest living?” Helen asked.

“Nothing. But ask yourself: Do your coworkers have your education? People don’t do hard labor unless they can’t get easier jobs. Do you think the maids work those jobs so their children can clean hotels? They don’t want their kids to have their life. You have a college degree, Helen. You can use your mind. You don’t have to break your back.”