No Perfect Secret (26 page)

“Helen, for crying out loud.”

“You do the crying. I don’t have time. Albert’s not here, you’re not here, we’ve got a brick load of work to do, most of the offices upstairs are closed and the lights weren’t even on when I got to work! I had to borrow a flashlight from security to navigate the halls.” She pointed to his desk and the old-fashioned black telephone. “You’d better call Anna. She needs those papers for the bank.”

Caburn slapped his jacket pocket. “Oh, my God. I forgot to give her the de mort certificate.”

“Yes, you did. And if you’d get your head out of your pants—we could get some work done.”

“Hey!” Caburn moved around Helen’s desk and stood in front of her. “Helen, I’m gonna hug you. Don’t hit me.” Hesitantly he put his arms around her and patted her back.

She sniffed. “Oh stop. You’re pounding the breath out of me. We’ve got two days before we shut down for the holidays. And we have to use one of those going to Ellicott City. I dread it. I just plain dread it. If Kevin Nesmith was standing in front of me right this minute, I’d skewer him right through his you-know-what.”

“You and me, both. Is that what’s made you lose your cool?”

“I don’t know. For some reason I woke up overwrought and my brain fried. Everybody is going somewhere for Christmas holidays, but me—I’m going to deliver food bags to the elderly. And here’s the funny. Some of those old folks are younger than I am.” She held up a hand in warning. “Don’t comment on that.”

He went around it. “Delivering food baskets is a good thing.”

“I want some goodness in
my
life.”

“Well, here’s a suggestion. Go upstairs and see
Mr Charles. He’s a wizard. Tell him you’re stressed.”

“Great idea. I could tell him Albert is having second thoughts about sending Anna off alone with you. He wants me to chaperone
.”

Caburn’s heart sank. “Not that, Helen, please. Take one of those tours where you swim with dolphins. I saw that on Discovery. Very healing
.”

“You’re planning on this big fat romance, aren’t you? Exotic location, sandy beaches, fiery sunsets
—”

A flush crept up
Caburn’s neck and a muscle pulsed in his cheek. “I haven’t
planned
anything. I gave my word to Albert that I wouldn’t take advantage. Besides, I didn’t choose the location. Mr Charles did.”

The cat strolled in, mewling, her tail straight up. It leaped up onto Caburn’s desk, then into his chair.

“That cat is pregnant, Helen. You’d better do something.”

The sight of the cat seemed to intensify Helen’s emotions. “Get those papers to Anna and come right back and help me with this list of residential homes. We’
ve got to find a bed for Clara, even if it’s only temporary. I don’t know why we have to do it today. Albert said after the holidays would be okay, and now suddenly it’s urgent.”

“Oh, lord. You don’t know.”

“What don’t I know?”

“Nesmith’s mother left the hospital last night. She did another number on Anna’s house. You should’ve seen this boning knife! She shredded Anna’s sofa, dumped her laptop in a sink full of water, emptied the fridge all over the kitchen floor, plus destroyed
Anna’s family photo album. Albert and Louise came, Dr Neal came, the EMTs came.”

Helen sagged into her chair. “Dear
God. Was Anna hurt? You?”

“No. We were out to dinner. Miss Lila called and told her she saw Clara getting out of a taxi.”

“Life just doesn’t ease up for that girl. How’d she take it?”

“How could she take it
? It was done. Dr Neal took her aside to chat. I think that helped. She was pretty together when I left.”

Helen waved her hands over a half-dozen area telephone books opened to the yellow pages. “I guess we’d better play catch-up.”

“Helen.”

“I know that tone of voice, Frank. I’m not in the mood for jokes.”

“This is not a joke. While I was shopping—you know I have to order flowers for Louise—I got your Christmas present. I was gonna wait and give it to you Thursday, but if I give it to you now, it might make you feel better.”

He took an envelope out of his inside blazer pocket and placed it on her desk.

Helen looked at it. Caburn slid it closer to her fingertips. Helen was still skeptical.

“Paper worms are gonna pop out when I open it.”

“No. It’s the real thing. I promise. Open the damned thing.”

“It’s amazing to get a gift from you that doesn’t have a dead frog on top of it, or a bunch a night crawlers.” She opened the e
nvelope. “Oh my. A gift card...From Elizabeth Arden...The Red Door. This is really—I’m speechless, Frank.”

“Since when?”

“What’s it for? Pedicure? Manicure?”

“Why would I gift you with a manicure, Helen? You do your nails down here all the time. It’s for a whole day. A glamour thing. They move your wrinkles around or camouflage them or something. That’s what the lady said.”

“Oh, my God, Frank. You actually went inside the salon. I’ll bet you stopped traffic.”

“I got flashed by an old lady in one of those pink wraps. All of her skin was hanging down like one of those wrinkle dogs.”

“A Shar pei?”

“That’s it.”

Helen laughed. Then she started crying.

“Oh, geez. Do you have to cry?”

She slapped her desk with the palm of her hand. “Yes, I do!”

Caburn threw up his hands.

He went into Phipps’ office to call Anna. The instant she answered he felt himself getting more than a little aroused at the memory of holding her in his arms. He imagined he could still smell her perfume and the sensational feel of her entire body against his own.

“Frank?”

“I’m here. Just a little scattered this morning.”

“I need those papers for the bank.”

“Could we meet for a late lunch and I’ll go there with you?”

“Couldn’t you just fax them to the bank?”

Disappointment reigned. “Oh, sure what’s the number?” He wrote it down on Phipps’ calendar. “If you have any trouble with that bank guy, just call me.”

She was silent for a few seconds. Caburn finally got it. “My phone is charging right now
—next to my desk.”

“Okay, then. Thanks.”

“Anna, wait. How are you? I mean really.”

“I’m like you
—a little bit scattered. I’m at a boutique. I’ve been trying on swimsuits.”

Yum
. “Swimsuits are good.” She didn’t pick up on that, so he said: “What about dinner? I could pick you up about eight.”

“I can’t.”

“Anna. You’re not going to ground on me, are you?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. Goodwill is picking up some furniture this afternoon. Then Clarence and JoJo are coming over to finish packing up Kevin’s stuff for the shelter. That way the men there will have something for Christmas.”

“Okay. But, if you need anything, you’ll call me?”

“Yes, I will.” She hung up.

“Be well,” Caburn said into a dead phone. In the outer office he put the letter Helen had written and the de mort certificate on her desk. “Anna asked us to fax these over to the bank.”

“You do it.”

“Please.” He tilted his chair to remove the cat.

“You’re really, really, pushing your luck, Frank.”

“Thank you. Helen, depend on it. I’m gonna get you something really nice for your birthday—if you tell me when it is.”

“Good try.” She moved to the fax machine, waited for it to warm up.

To her back, Caburn said, “Your tenants have kind of moved in on Anna.”

Helen didn’t bother to turn around. “Jealous?”

Maybe a little bit.
“I was just saying.”

“Speaking of my tenants,” Helen said. “JoJo gave me an envelope to give you.” She reached into her purse and tossed it Caburn.

He told her what he’d asked JoJo to do, then tore open the envelope and dumped the contents on his desk. “Oh, Jesus have mercy. Here we go again.” More condoms. Two one dollar bills. Three business cards. He moved them around with a pencil. Two scraps of paper with names and phone numbers. He eased the condoms off his desk into the trash can.

“Explain it to me, Frank. Why is a hunk like you so squeamish about condoms? Don’t you believe in safe sex?”

Caburn’s neck burned. “I’m not having this conversation.”

“Yes, you damned sure are.”

“Helen, these things are private. A married man ought not be carrying them around in his wallet or pocket. It’s...it’s just downright disrespectful.”

“Maybe, but those things were not readily available when I was a kid, and believe me, the lack of them caused a lot of heartache. Before Margaret Sanger’s efforts condoms and birth control were illegal. Nesmith was a miscreant of the worst kind, but at least he used them, and didn’t bring home any STDs to Anna.”

Caburn clamped his jaw shut. Imagining Nesmith with Anna was not a picture he wanted in his mind. “Not another word, Helen. I mean it.” His expression looked carved in marble.

Helen issued a ‘why me, lord?’ sigh. “Okay
—what else is there?”

Caburn handed across the cards and slips of papers. Helen glanced at them.

“Whoa. Here’s a doctor’s appointment for January 16. A cardiologist in NYC.” Without ado she dialed up the number. “Yes, thank you...I’m just confirming my husband’s appointment for January 16. At 10:15 a.m. Kevin Nesmith... Uh, uh. That’s right. Sure. Thank you very much.” Helen ended the call and exhaled. “No two ways about it. He waited too late.”

Caburn didn’t want to feel sorry for the man
—but he almost did. “Let’s put all this stuff in the file. He rubbed his chest. The tape was peeling around the edges and driving him nuts. “If any of these numbers show up after the obit is published—we can follow up.” He stared at the gray wall for a long minute. “This case is really depressing me. And, we’ve yet to tell Anna about the Florida marriage and divorce.”

“I faxed those papers over to
Dr Neal. Albert thinks she should be the one to explain it to Anna.”

“I know. I’ve been thinking about it, though. That’s kind of the coward’s way out, don’t you think?”

Helen shrugged. “You be the messenger, then. Get killed.”

“I’ve considered that, too. But, we promised not to keep any secrets from her.”

“
You
promised.”

“Suppose a newshound gets hold of the story. Anna would be blindsided. Suppose all hell breaks loose in Ellicott City on Thursday? Or, the obits draw out a crazy looking for her fifteen minutes of fame?”

“You want my advice? Tiptoe.”

Caburn rested his head briefly in his hands. In his mind’s eye he was seeing the shape of Anna’s face, the curl of her small ears, the lovely long neck, the golden flecks in her dark brown eyes highlighted by the flickering candles at Vincenzo’s. Finally he heaved a sigh. “I’ll take the divorce decrees. If the opportunity arises...”

“Stop your mewling, Frank. Help me make these calls.”

After an hour and a half Caburn slammed the phone book shut. “I have an idea, Helen. Let’s close up for the day and go out to lunch.”

“Food court at the Mall? Watch the kiddies meet Santa Claus? Hit the candy store for some Lady Godiva?”

“Works for me.”

~
~~~

Caburn had been checking his phone for missed calls all afternoon and evening, knowing full well that the damned thing had not rung once. Of course, that meant Anna had everything under control. Still, he hoped to hear from her. He had also stayed busy. He’d picked up a half-dozen knit shirts—with collars—at the mall, new underwear, and a swimsuit. And, at Helen’s nagging, a shirt with red flowers against a cream background. As if he’d ever wear a shirt with flowers. But, it had made her happy to win that argument. He’d also bought a huge box of Lady Godiva chocolates for Anna, but Helen tore into the box before it could be bagged, so he’d had forked over another fifty for a second box. After dropping Helen off at her car, he stopped at the tailors for his new un-cuffed beige linen slacks.

He took his phone into the bathroom while he showered. He bit the bullet and yanked the remaining tape off his chest. That brought him to tears and nearly to his knees. His chest was crisscrossed with patches of raw, red skin, and the hot water pounding d
own on raw skin stung as if he’d walked into a nest of killer bees. He gingerly patted himself dry, pulled on skivvies and sat down on the sofa next to his half-packed suitcase and called Anna. She answered after three rings.

“It’s me,” he said. “I was just wondering how things went at the bank.”

“Good. There was some huffing and puffing, but the bank manager was there today. She and I have a cordial relationship, so in the end, the papers you faxed over worked just fine.”

He heard the ‘but’ in her voice. “And the account?”