Adjusted to Death Page 8

  “God, Felix. Criminal or idealist, how could anyone risk something like that?” I felt a mixture of awe, fear and guilt, considering Valerie’s crime and punishment.

  “Maybe she didn’t think they’d be caught. Maybe she believed in what she was doing so much, the risk seemed worth it.” He shrugged his shoulders. “She certainly paid the price, going to prison. Her parents raised her baby.”

  “No wonder she’s scared. The police have to be looking at her. Do they think she killed Younger?”

  “They still don’t have a firm suspect. But she’s up there in the running. They’re not considering you as seriously now.” I let out a large breath. “Actually, they’re leaning more and more towards Wayne.”

  My stomach sank. I was convinced Wayne hadn’t killed Scott. And I hope Valerie hadn’t. Why couldn’t there be a suspect in the case that I would have liked to see in prison?

  Felix left. I spent the next four hours doing paperwork, my thoughts never far from the murder.

  I walked into my chiropractor’s office for the third time in three days, and stopped short. Renee was glowering from behind her desk. Wayne was holding a copy of Rolling Stone in front of his face. And Valerie sat as blissfully erect as she had two days ago. Ted smiled at me and waved. Everyone was seated where they had been Wednesday morning. Everyone except Scott Younger. My feet exercised the kind of caution my reckless mind could learn from. They refused to move forward.

  The spell was broken by the sound of hoarse breathing and scurrying footsteps behind me. I stepped through the doorway before Devi could run me over. She was dressed in layers of turquoise that day, including a turquoise scarf splashed with white and purple. Tanya was not with her.

  “I hope I’m not late,” she said, breathless as usual. “Our clocks were an hour and a half behind. I wouldn’t have known, but I heard the MacNeil Lehrer report on the radio and they don’t come on—”

  “It’s okay,” Renee said curtly. “Sit down.”

  Devi chose the chair between Valerie and Wayne, where Younger had last sat. Did she realize? Wayne lowered his magazine and studied the occupants of the room. I sat down next to Ted by the door, to do the same. I could feel Wayne’s intense gaze upon my face before I saw it. He smiled and then looked away quickly when Valerie spoke to Devi, breaking the silence in the room.

  “Beautiful scarf,” Valerie said. Her large eyes were luminous once more. Studying her face, I saw only a deep peace, underlined by sadness and fear. I certainly didn’t see a bank robber, much less a murderer.

  “Oh, this?” asked Devi, glancing down at her scarf as if surprised to find it there. “I made it. I make all my scarfs.”

  “Do you sell them?” asked Valerie. “I would love one in greens.”

  “No, but I could make you one if you’d like,” she offered. “It’s about the only art work I do these days.”

  “How are you doing, little lady?” asked a voice in my ear. I jumped in my seat. Once more, I had forgotten that Ted existed.

  “Fine,” I answered, turning to face him. He had recovered from Wednesday’s events, if his face was any clue. Again, he looked younger than his sixty-nine years, his brown eyes lively with interest and curiosity, his mustache twitching with energy above his buck teeth.

  “Maggie tells me you’re going to unmask the murderer,” he said.

  I groaned. What was wrong with that woman? Even if I were going to investigate, it wouldn’t help to put each and every suspect on notice.

  “First of all, I’m not a detective, and I don’t plan to detect—” I began.

  Maggie bounced into the room before I had time to finish my declaration. I glared at her fiercely. She didn’t seem to notice.

  “Oh wow, everyone’s here,” she said, smiling. “Eileen will be out in a sec. I’m so glad you all came.”

  “Just what are we supposed to be doing?” asked Renee, making no attempt to disguise the irritation in her harsh voice.

  “Well, let’s see. First, let’s bring our chairs into a circle,” Maggie answered. She pulled two teak chairs into formation. The rest of us followed suit, with varying degrees of efficiency. Renee sighed, but came out from behind her desk, dragging her rolling office chair with her. By the time Eileen’s languid steps brought her into the room, we were all arranged in a circle that brought an encounter group to mind. Only no one was doing any encountering.

  Maggie sat with a large, expectant smile on her face. Wayne stared at the floor. Devi twitched and breathed loudly. Ted was squirming in his chair. I realized I was squirming as well, and made an effort to still my body. Only Eileen and Valerie seemed relaxed. Renee was the first to speak.

  “Yeah, now what?” she said. I appreciate her directness. I was also beginning to sympathize with her perpetual irritation. We turned toward Maggie.

  “Well,” she said brightly, her head tilted to one side. “Does anyone have anything they want to share about Scott Younger?”

  Wayne pulled his curly head up and took a deep breath.

  “He was a good man,” he said in a low growl. “Know most of you don’t realize it, but it’s true. Lots of stuff in the past. Who doesn’t have stuff in the past?” His voice was stronger now. I felt a tug of guilt. I had cared very little about the dead man as a human being. From the lowered gazes of most of our group, I guessed that there was a lot of guilt going around.

  “Wanted to help. Helped artists, musicians, sculptors. Wanted to love, be loved. Just didn’t know how,” Wayne continued, shaking his head. Moisture glistened in his eyes. At least one person genuinely mourned Scott Younger’s passing. “That’s all,” he ended gruffly.

  I reached across Ted, who sat between us, to pat Wayne’s hand. Ted looked old again. Eileen put her arm around Wayne’s shoulders.

  “Let’s have a moment of silence for Scott,” she said, her voice sweet and gentle. “Offer our thoughts, prayers, whatever feels appropriate.” Wayne nodded.

  We sat in silence for some time. I closed my eyes and offered up my agnostic hope that Scott Younger might find love wherever he was, and peace. I heard Devi’s hoarse sobs as I did. My own eyes had teared up but declined to spill over. Sadness and loss filled the waiting room. I opened my eyes when I heard a mass clearing of throats. The faces around me were drained but peaceful.

  “Does anyone have something to add aloud?” asked Eileen. Ted raised his hand as if he were in school. Eileen nodded. He moved his head around to face Wayne.

  “I feel real bad about your friend,” he said. “He was too young to die. Here, I’m an old coot, terrified that death is waiting around the corner and then, some young guy gets it, just like that. Doesn’t seem right to me.”

  “Don’t be scared,” said Devi, her eyes lighted from within. “Death is just going home really. This”—she glanced downward—”is only a shell.” She waved her thin white hands in the air as if this would help us to comprehend her words. Or prove them to be true. Ted looked unconvinced.

  “Just as a long-caged bird hesitates to leave when the door is opened,” Valerie added. The words sounded like a quotation. She sat tall in her chair, with her eyes momentarily closed. Was she thinking of death or the cage of prison?

  “Thank you,” said Wayne. The words seemed to have comforted him. His head was held high enough that I could see directly into his brown eyes, and the muscles in his face had relaxed. The whole group seemed to be more relaxed.

  “Kate has some questions to ask,” Maggie broke in. I could almost hear their hearts zipping up. Fear and suspicion returned to the room.

  “Not really,” I snapped. I needed to clear the air. I let my eyes travel around the group, and continued in what I hoped was a calm and forceful voice. “Contrary to what you might have heard, I am not investigating this death. I want to know what happened. I think we all do, but I don’t have any special status.”

  “I… I would like to say something, since you’re getting this sorted out,” said Devi, her eyes on me, asking my permission.
So much for clearing the air. I nodded. “The reason that I pulled Tanya away—I’m sorry now—but I pulled Tanya away because I had heard bad things about Scott at Crocker.” She took a few breaths. “I knew Scott at Crocker. Maybe he changed. But I didn’t want Tanya talking to someone who—well—someone with that reputation.”

  “I just talked to someone else from Crocker,” I said, lightening my tone in an effort at normal conversation. “Maybe you know her. Ann Rivera?”

  “No.” Devi shook her head violently, as if accused. “I don’t think so, not that I remember.” She turned her face away and began to cough.

  After the coughing wound down, Valerie looked at Wayne with troubled eyes, and spoke. “I’d like to apologize for my words about Scott. I didn’t know the man had found a new path. Anyway, I should have forgiven him. Forgiveness clears the mind and holds us together in the universe. Will you accept my apologies in his place?”

  Wayne nodded. Valerie’s eyes cleared.

  “Is there anything more?” asked Renee impatiently. She tapped her red nails on the arm of her chair.

  All eyes looked in my direction. They still believed I was running an investigation. Maybe I should have asked some probing questions. But my mind was immobilized by the grief and guilt still lingering in the room. And, even if I could have formed the questions, I didn’t want to encourage Maggie’s expectations any further.

  “Not as far as I’m concerned,” I said. “Wayne?”

  “No, just thank you. Appreciate it.”

  Renee got up first. She went behind her desk, retrieved her purse and sailed out the door wordlessly.

  This seemed to signal the end of the meeting. The whole thing had lasted all of twenty minutes. Eileen squeezed Wayne’s shoulder and left, telling Maggie she’d see her later. Ted stood up and handed Wayne a business card. “Come down to the store some time,” he said. He stood for a moment looking uncertain, and then followed in Eileen’s wake.

  Devi stopped on her way to the door and turned toward me. Then she turned toward the door again, and finally turned back to face me. I was getting dizzy just watching her. She scribbled her address and phone number on a torn piece of lavender stationery and handed it to me.

  “Call me if you need to,” she said and departed.

  Valerie came up to me next. “Maggie says you’re interested in Guru Illumananda’s teachings.” I silently cursed Maggie for yet another fabrication. I was not interested in Guru Illumananda. Gurus made me nervous. I plastered a tight smile on my face as Valerie continued. “I wanted to invite you to visit the ashram where I live. Perhaps you could come to one of our evening programs. You, too, Wayne. Or for a meal. We are blessed with a wonderful vegetarian cafeteria.”

  She gave us each a small, beautifully printed pamphlet with her phone number penciled in above the peach and aqua border. Then she strode, ever erect, out the door. Only Maggie and Wayne remained. They both stood up as I turned to them.

  I moved toward Maggie with violence on my mind. Sometimes she went too far. “Interested in the teachings of Guru Illumananda? Ready to unmask the murderer? What else have you told people about me?” I asked when my nose had arrived six inches from hers.

  “Sheesh, Kate. Don’t be mad,” she said, stepping back and then from side to side nervously. “I was just trying to make things easier for you.”

  She tugged at her frizzy red hair. I wanted to help her pull it out by the roots, but there was a witness present. And he seemed to be smiling.

  “Okay?” she asked, her eyes round and innocent.

  “I guess so,” I snarled. She grabbed me and hugged me quickly. Then she bounced off in the direction of her business office, humming an unidentifiable tune.

  Wayne and I were left alone in the waiting room. Wayne held his muscular body straight and tall, his marred face expressionless. He was broadcasting an intensity of emotion that could have heated a stadium. But I couldn’t identify the exact nature of that emotion. Lust, sorrow, fear? Or something else entirely? With a little nerve, I could test for the first possibility.

  I advanced on him before he had a chance to move, then threw my arms around him in what might be interpreted as merely a friendly Marin hug. But most Marin hugs end above the waist. I put my full torso into it. I felt his body stiffen, in all the right places. His arms came around me hesitantly at first, then strengthened into an incendiary embrace. Just for a moment he pressed his lips to mine, firm sweet-tasting lips unencumbered by mustache. I felt in that moment the heat of his body and the rhythms of his accelerated breathing and heartbeat. My bones melted. Then he broke away.

  “Sorry,” he growled. Sweat was beaded on his flushed forehead. The force of his gaze fried my already scrambled brains.

  “Sorry?” I panted blankly. Sorry for the kiss, or sorry for breaking away?

  “Big sister is watching,” he whispered.

  - Nine -

  I was trying, unsuccessfully, to decipher the meaning of “big sister” when I saw Maggie peering out of the doorway of her office. Her neck was stretched so long she looked like a cartoon goose.

  “Jeez, you guys. What are you doing?” she asked once she realized our eyes were upon her. Her body followed her head out of the doorway.

  “Talking,” I answered briefly.

  I heard a muffled snort from Wayne’s direction.

  “Did you guys know each other before?” she asked in an overly casual manner. Her usually wide-open eyes were squinting, her head pushed forward like a retriever on a scent.

  “Before?” I repeated. I had not yet regained my full powers of speech. My mind was still mush. And my legs felt rubbery.

  “No,” answered Wayne firmly. “I’ve seen Kate here in your office before. But nothing more. We’re not conspirators in Scott’s death. So please, get that idea out of your head.”

  “Oh, God, is that what you think?” I asked aloud.

  “Sheesh, Kate. What am I supposed to think? You don’t want to investigate—”

  “Maggie, I never promised to investigate. I said I’d ask some questions, and I’ve asked them! I don’t know any more than I did before. And I don’t want you telling everyone I’m a detective.”

  “Might be dangerous,” Wayne contributed.

  “But if someone tries to kill Kate,” said Maggie wriggling in place eagerly, “then we’ll know who did it. See?”

  “‘Kill Kate,’” repeated Wayne, his growl no longer soft and gentle. “Do you realize what you’re saying?” He quickly stepped into the space separating me from Maggie. There he loomed over her in a stance of barely contained violence. She flinched and stepped back. I didn’t blame her. He was scaring me too. Why had I believed that I had known this man?

  “That’s all right,” I said, using the calming voice I had developed in my two years of working in a mental hospital. “I haven’t learned anything. No one’s going to try and kill me.” I tugged at his arm. At the touch, he whirled around toward me. I backstepped a little more quickly than Maggie had. My whole system was on alert, my body automatically converting to a tai chi posture.

  “Sorry,” he said, his stance softening along with his tone. “Just concerned. None of my business.” He lowered his head.

  “Jeez,” said Maggie. Her repetition of that particular word was wearing on my nerves. She was looking in my direction now, avoiding the possibility of Wayne’s gaze. “I’ll stop telling people you’re investigating. It was just an idea. You’re not mad, are you?”

  “I’m all right now, Maggie. You’re forgiven,” I answered. But that wasn’t enough for her.

  “And we can still get together and talk about it, can’t we? I really think we can solve this between the four of us,” she continued, eagerness creeping back into her voice.

  “What four?” I asked.

  “You and Wayne, and Eileen and me,” she said.

  “Eliminating about half the suspects, aren’t you?” asked Wayne. His voice was soft again, with a hint of amusement.


  “Jeez, I know none of us could have done it,” she said. Then her brow wrinkled. “But then, I can’t figure out exactly who could have—”

  “Enough already, Maggie,” I said. “I’m leaving. I’ll talk to you later.” I added a quick goodbye in Wayne’s direction. His eyes were once more invisible under lowered brows.

  I was in my car, turning the key in the ignition, when he startled me with a gentle rap on the window.

  “Sorry,” he said as I rolled down the window. He squatted so that his bushy eyebrows were eye level with me. “Always seem to be saying ‘sorry.’ Wanted to apologize for pushing you.”

  “Pushing me?” I asked. “Sorry, I always seem to be repeating your words. When did you push me?”

  He cleared his throat. His skin turned a dark plum shade.

  “Oh, that.” Now I was embarrassed. If anyone had pushed it had been me. I giggled inanely for a moment. I couldn’t believe I was thirty-eight years old and giggling over a kiss.

  “Okay to call you?” he asked.

  “Of course,” came out of my mouth.

  He mouthed a brusque “thanks,” and walked away swiftly.

  I shivered while driving home under dark clouds. The glimpse of the violent underpinnings of Wayne’s kind and gentle nature had frightened me. And then, there was the intensity of his sexuality. That intensity had lessened my doubts concerning his intentions. But I was disturbed by the mixture of feelings that our short kiss had churned up in me.