Plain Jane Page 20
“Jane Lewis. Nice to hear from you. To what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?” Todd boomed over the wire.
“To a mutual friend, Connie Bryan,” Jane said coolly. “I’m calling to invite you to lunch. I’ll be in Crowley Thursday and Friday,” she said, hoping he would choose the former as opposed to the latter.
“Let me check my calendar.” There was a short pause. “Thursday is out. I’m up to my eyeballs in appointments, but Friday looks good. You want to reminisce about Connie, is that it? I still think of her often. I never did figure out why she took her life. It was such a shame. She had so much to live for. I thought I knew her, you know? It just goes to show that the ones you think you know best, you don’t necessarily know at all.”
“That’s true, Todd,” she replied, thinking of Mike. “You never really know about people or what they are capable of doing. Take Connie for instance. We were really good friends,” Jane lied to set the bait. “You would think she would have slipped up and told me what she was planning in the letter she wrote me after she got home, just before she . . . you know.”
“You two were good friends? I didn’t know that. She never talked about you to me. I wonder why that was.”
“You know what, Todd? She never talked about you to me either. Oh, I knew you two were engaged and all that, but that’s about it. We talked about other things, the secret stuff girls talk about,” Jane said, making things up as she went along.
“I see. Tell me something, Jane. What is this lunch all about?” Did his voice change, or was it her imagination? It sounded chilly all of a sudden.
Jane thought a moment. “I’m doing a paper on drugs for JAMA. I thought you might allow me to pick your brain if I give you credit in the article. It’s quite prestigious, and a feather in one’s cap to be published in such an important publication.” She congratulated herself on her quick thinking.
The relief in the man’s voice sent shivers up Jane’s spine. “Well, sure. Glad to help. Let’s say tomorrow, twelve-thirty at Roscoe’s.”
“Twelve-thirty is great. I’ll see you then.” You miserable son of a bitch, Jane said to herself.
The phone rang the moment she put the receiver down. “Hello?”
“Jane, it’s Mike. Where the hell have you been? Are you all right? I came out to the house last night, and those damn dogs wouldn’t let me in. By the way, they scared me so bad, I dropped the key in the driveway.” He paused as if expecting her to say something. “Look, I’m sorry. You don’t look anything like Coletta. You’re real and warm and sweet, plus kind and gentle and . . . I love you. I really love you. If I had any doubts before, they’re gone now.”
“Why is that?” Jane asked, her voice throaty with emotion.
“I stopped at Snuffy’s on my way home for a drink and guess who was at the bar? Coletta! She was waiting for her date, and I was just leaving. When I saw her, I realized I must have been deaf, dumb, and blind when I was dating her. You’re twice the woman she is. No, ten times.”
“Only ten times?” she teased him.
“Don’t be mad at me anymore, Jane. I can’t stand it. I would love you even if you were bald.”
“I beg your pardon?” Was that a compliment or an insult?
“Even if you had warts, I’d still love you.”
“Really, Mike?”
“Even if you were pigeon-toed and knock-kneed, I’d still love you. I want us to grow old together. Have I made my point? Can I stop now?”
Jane giggled.
“Let’s go for some of Papa Jo’s spaghetti tonight, okay? I’ll wear my red T-shirt and you wear your red one so when we drip sauce it won’t show. I’ll pick you up at seven. I missed you, Jane.”
“I missed you, too. And seven is good.”
“What are you going to do this afternoon?”
“Christmas shopping. It’s now or never. Christmas is only six days away. By the way, I thought you’d like to know, Sharon Thomas is interested in buying my practice. You know what? I wouldn’t sell it to her if she was the last person on earth. She’s a catty, snotty, mean-spirited woman. I’ll close it up first.”
“I agree with you about Sharon. She’s all that and more. I know someone who might be interested. We’ll talk about it tonight. I love you, Jane.”
“I love you, too.”
Jane sat back. “Did you hear that, Olive? It just goes to show you, you should never make assumptions or jump to conclusions. You should be patient and get the facts. That’s what I tell all my patients. I also tell them you need to control your emotions and that when you drink you lose control.” She started to giggle. “It’s too bad I don’t take my own advice. He had an explanation for everything. God, I am so happy, I can’t stand it. I’m leaving you behind today so you can sleep while I’m gone. I just have to call Trixie to bring my car over.”
Olive reared up and pawed the desk, barking furiously. She backed away, then advanced and finally tugged on the hem of Jane’s slacks, her signal to follow her.
“Oh, they already brought my car back. Good girl, Olive. You are so smart. I just love you to pieces. Because you’re such a good girl, I’ll make you some veggie burgers for dinner. You be good now, okay?”
Jane was back in the house by five-thirty, her arms full of gaily wrapped packages and in her trunk, tied down with rope, was a six-foot Frazier Fir Christmas tree and tree stand. On the backseat, still to be carried into the house, were Christmas ornaments and colored lights.
She’d done her best not to think about Connie Bryan’s disk and her conversation with Todd Prentice. She wasn’t going to think about it now either. What she was going to do was pop a cola and make a phone call to lock in Mike’s special Christmas present. One rainy night while lying in bed after a delicious session of lovemaking, she’d asked him what his most secret desire was and he’d said, catapulting off the USS Patrick Henry in a Tomcat. Preferably somewhere in the Adriatic Sea, he’d said. She was going to make that happen via virtual reality and a trip to Baton Rouge, where it was all done in a studio. The gift card along with details would be sent by overnight mail, and she would wrap it up with a big, red, satin bow. Every time she thought about it, she got dizzy with excitement when she imagined the look on his face.
She made a mental note to call Sharon Thomas’s office after hours so she could leave a message telling her in no uncertain terms she was not interested in selling her practice to her.
“So there, Olive! I did promise you veggie burgers, didn’t I? Two of them coming right up.” Before she started mixing and mashing, she withdrew the house key from her junk drawer and placed it in the middle of the table. “You know what, Olive? I don’t feel like going out. I’m going to call Mike and tell him to bring the food with him. That way we can spend the evening together and put the tree up. We’ll be a family. You know my feelings on family, Olive.”
“Woof.”
Jane curled up on the sofa next to Mike, Olive nestled in the bend of her knees. They all stared at the beautifully decorated tree. Jane sighed happily. “You were right, Mike, the decorations make this old room come alive. And to think I got it all at Wallace’s Hardware.”
“I thought you didn’t want to do any decorating, but I’m glad you changed your mind. You seemed preoccupied this evening. Want to talk about it? I’m a good listener.”
Jane told him about her proposed lunch with Todd Prentice and the disk she’d brought home from Slidell. “Mike, I know where I put that disk container, and I distinctly remember putting Beth Goins’s frog on top. I remember it as clearly as I remember my own name. Now, my question to you is this, where did that little piece of paper come from that was taped onto the Lucite box? And . . . how do you explain the password? No one was here last night. You said yourself that the dogs wouldn’t let you in. It was the right password. My name was the password.” Shivers ran down her spine, and she snuggled closer to him. “Mike, my blood ran cold. I’ll show you the letter she wrote me in the morning. It broke my he
art and made me cry.”
“You’re going to try to do something, aren’t you, Jane? Do you think you’ve got enough evidence to charge anyone?”
“Yes, I’m going to try to do something, and no, I don’t have enough evidence. Not yet. But I have a feeling I will have that evidence before long. There are some things Connie mentioned in her letter that might help; then there is the bite scar and the DNA evidence off her clothes. I had a lawyer friend of mine check, and it seems that in 1994, they passed a Violence Against Women Law, which made it so there isn’t any statute of limitations on aggravated rape. Even if the rape occurred five, ten, or fifteen years ago.”
“All this is happening because of that Ramsey guy, isn’t it? Jesus, I wish he’d never gone to you. I do not have a good feeling about this, Jane. Another thing, what do you hope to gain by going to lunch with a bastard like Todd Prentice? You said he was a bastard, remember? As to the password, I don’t have a clue.”
“I don’t know, maybe a slip of the tongue. I have Connie’s letter to go by now. She thought something was awry, that he seemed to know. Let’s not talk about this any more tonight. Tell me, do you really know someone who might be interested in my practice? What’d you get me for Christmas?” Jane said, tickling him under the arm.
He grabbed her hand and held it tightly in his. “I mentioned it to Bill Bennett and Carl Wylie. They just took on two new associates and are looking to expand. I’d say they expressed keen interest. Carl and one of the associates would take over your office and Bill and his associate would stay in Lafayette. Bill said they would be in touch after the first of the year. I can handle it for you until it’s all a done deal. Your patients will like them. Are you certain this is what you want to do, Jane?”
“I’m certain. I already feel like a load of bricks is off my shoulders. Now, c’mon, don’t avoid the subject, what did you get me for Christmas?”
“You tell me first,” Mike twinkled.
“I got you the thing you want most in life. That’s all I’m going to tell you. Now, you give me a clue.”
“What I want most in life is you, Jane. Anything other than you will just be icing on the cake. I got something for you that is forever. I’m not telling you anything else, either. Don’t try weaseling it out of me.”
She considered his answer. A ring was forever. A commitment was forever. “Are you sure your parents are going to like me? What if they don’t, Mike?”
He nuzzled her temple, her cheek, then her neck. “Trust me, my mother will love you, and my dad will adore you. I know this. I’m their son.”
“Tell me what they’re like again. I want to feel like I really know them before you introduce me to them.”
“My mom is a pretty woman who stands about five-foot-one and has a big heart. She always looks neat as a pin, even when she’s cleaning house. She makes the most awesome chocolate cake you’ve ever tasted. It screams my name. And her gumbo is to die for. Her flower beds have the prettiest flowers on the street, and you won’t find a weed anywhere. She knits things, all kinds of things, baby clothes and sweaters and afghans and donates everything to different church bazaars for their raffles.”
She laid her head against his chest and he stroked her hair. “My dad is a big man, kind of barrel-chested. He has this booming laugh that makes you join in. He never gets mad. He’s sort of laid-back, I guess you’d say. His eyes twinkle and he’s really upset because he’s losing his hair. He’s been using Rogaine for years with no results. He won’t give up, though. He has a workshop in the garage, where he builds toys that he donates to bazaars like my mother does. He likes to dance. He has a jukebox in the family room with all the Golden Oldies. He and Mom trip the light fantastic every night after dinner. They both like to go fishing, going to the movies, and doing volunteer work. They really do have busy lives. They call me every Sunday. I call them on Wednesdays.”
Jane conjured up a mental picture of his parents sitting side by side on a sofa, his mother in a flowered dress and his father in a golf shirt and tan slacks. “They sound wonderful.”
“That’s because they are wonderful. They’re going to love you. Can we go to bed now? I didn’t sleep at all last night.”
“Mike, who wrote the password on the disk?”
“I have no idea . . . unless . . .”
“Unless what?”
“It could have been your ghost.”
Jane guffawed and sat up. “Really, Mike, that’s stretching things just a bit, don’t you think?”
“What other explanation could there be?” he asked, his expression sober.
Jane looked him straight in the eye, and said, “There are no such things as ghosts.”
11
The air was downright frosty, perfect Christmas weather, Jane thought when she climbed out of her car and handed the keys over to the young man in charge of valet parking. She looked around, thinking the restaurant looked different somehow. Maybe the owners had given the building a face-lift. It had been years since she’d been there, and then it had been at night. The food was exceptional, that much she did remember.
The building was long and narrow, with banquet rooms in the back. At first glance it looked like something the architect had given up on. Gray fieldstone and Tudor windows added to the architectural discord.
Its saving grace was its festive outdoor decor. The restaurant had gone all out on its Christmas decorations. On every door, on every window, in every nook and cranny there were tiny white lights intertwined in the greenery and finished off with red-velvet bows. The interior was dim and fragrant, with the scent of balsam wafting in all directions. Jane sniffed appreciatively. The moment she walked into the foyer she could hear the hum of conversation and the clink of silver and glassware. This was the busiest time of year for restaurant owners. She eyed the tree in the corner, with its expensive gold ornaments. In her opinion, her hardware-store tree looked a thousand times better. Or maybe it was just because she liked things simple rather than glitzy. She sat down in the waiting area and glanced at her watch. She hoped Todd Prentice didn’t decide to stand her up.
Five minutes later, he came through the door on a gust of wind. “Jane, I hope I haven’t kept you waiting,” he said, running his hand over his hair.
“No, as a matter of fact, I just got here myself,” she said, discreetly eyeing his cashmere overcoat and pricey shoes. The tie alone probably cost a couple of hundred dollars. She would have had to be blind to miss the monogrammed cuffs of the pristine white shirt that showed at the wrist as he handed over his coat to the hatcheck girl. He deftly switched the manila envelope he was carrying from one hand to the other as he reached for Jane’s coat and smiled. He cupped her elbow in his hand to usher her into the dining room, totally ignoring the hostess.
“The firm keeps a table at the back of the room. My father-in-law pays handsomely for the privilege,” he confided.
“How nice,” she intoned woodenly.
“It is nice, believe me. This place really jams, and it’s nice to walk in and know you have a table and don’t have to wait or tip the hostess. The CFO of the firm holds a percentage of the restaurant, but that’s a private matter.”
Prentice led the way to the back of the restaurant, stopping momentarily to say hello to other people or just to pat someone’s shoulder as he strode by. He was right, it was the best table in the house, Jane thought, as he held the chair for her. She wondered what was in the manila envelope he placed on the table. Probably stuff he thought would help her with the paper she’d said she wanted to write.
“Now, Jane, what would you like to drink?”
“Mineral water with a twist of lime, please. I’m driving.” She laid her purse down next to her, then unfolded her napkin and put it on her lap.
“I am, too, but I’m having a double Rob Roy.” He raised his index finger and a waiter immediately appeared. He gave the order and shook loose a cigarette.
“You can smoke in here?” Jane asked in surprise.
“I think so. How about you?”
“My wife handles all that stuff. You know how wives are. They want to be sure everything is perfect and us guys would just foul it up. We go to our condo in Aspen every year for Christmas and stay through the New Year.”
A condo in Aspen. The most Connie could have hoped for was a sleigh ride in New Jersey if she had married this dandy.
“I brought some material for you to look over, thinking it would save some time. Why don’t you take a look at it while I call the office and check on things. I left a bit of a mess for my secretary.”
Jane reached for the envelope. She made a pretense of leafing through the drug periodicals and glossy brochures touting their newest drugs. She raised her gaze once to look around the room and, with the aid of a mirrored wall opposite him, could clearly see Prentice speaking on the lobby phone. If he was talking to his office, she had horns. She had just closed the clasp on the envelope when Todd rejoined her.
“Did any of that help?”
“Perfect. I feel silly now. You could have put all this into the mail to me, and I wouldn’t have taken up your time. I appreciate your help.”
“When will the article appear in JAMA?”
Jane shrugged. “They never tell you. My guess would be spring. I’ll let you know or send you a copy.” Enough with the small talk, she told herself. “I’m curious about something, Todd. Why did you come up to me and introduce yourself at the fund-raiser?”
“Well, I—I was just trying to be friendly, that’s all. I was on the organizing committee.”
She could tell he was lying through his teeth, but that was to be expected. “Oh,” she said, laughing. “I thought you might have been looking for a good psychiatrist.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “No! I don’t need a psychiatrist.”
“Don’t say it like that. All of us need someone we can dump on from time to time. A psychiatrist is trained to listen, not to judge. You mean to tell me you don’t have anything troubling in your life, past or present, that you’d like to talk to someone about?” she asked, setting the stage.