Cardiac Arrest, page 20
Dash shrugged. “In case you require a knight in shining armor to rescue you.”
“I’ll be fine, thanks.”
“Hey, he’s going back in. You’d better get down there quick, or you’ll miss him.” Dash waved her off. “Break a leg.”
She almost did, slipping on the curving, carpeted staircase in the three-hundred-dollar pumps she’d only worn once. At least she didn’t spill any wine on her white suit.
“Yoo-hoo! Eduardo Silva?”
He turned, his fingertips on the door. “Sorry. No autographs until after the show.”
Phew. He didn’t recognize her. His huge ego had probably blinded him. At least he wasn’t pretending to be deaf anymore. Summer wondered if the director and cast had found out the truth after Eduardo got the part of the hearing-impaired Butler Two. He couldn’t have kept up that little game for long.
Summer positioned herself between Eduardo and the door, and extended her hand. “Joy Sloan, talent scout for Syd Sloan Productions.”
Her sister wouldn’t mind if she borrowed her name.
“Really?” Eduardo perked up, before his beady eyes narrowed even more. “Wait a minute. Haven’t we met?”
“No,” she said. “We haven’t. I’m sure I’d remember. Look, are we going to talk, or what? I don’t have a lot of time. I’m catching the red eye back to L.A. tonight.”
Was there a late night flight out of Fort Myers? Summer had no idea, but it sounded good.
“Sure, we can talk. No problem.” Eduardo’s expression had changed to something halfway between greedy and drooling. “You’re interested in representing me?”
“Well, here’s the thing, Mr. Silva.” She swirled what was left of her wine. “I happen to know someone who’s looking for an actor with street cred. It seems to me you’ve got it all: the look, the attitude. And I saw from your cast bio that you’ve lived in New York?”
“Born and raised,” Eduardo said. “I’m from dah nay-bahhood, ya know?”
Summer cringed. How could a guy from Brooklyn mess up his own accent? “It’s a...um, buddy film.” She tried to keep the corners of her mouth tight, as if they’d been flash-frozen with Botox. If she laughed, she’d totally blow her cover. “But there’s a fabulous twist. Two guys grow up together and one of them has a crush on the other, but the second guy isn’t interested. He’s going to marry this gorgeous heiress. You with me so far?”
“Yeah, I get it.”
“Anyway, the first guy, he’s jealous of the fiancée, right?” she rushed on. “Plus, he knows the other guy isn’t who he says he is. So he decides to blackmail him.”
Eduardo’s eyes were tiny slits again. “Who did you say you were again?”
Uh-oh, Summer thought. But she still had just a few teensy plot points to add. “So he bumps off his old friend, hires a bunch of actors for the funeral, takes the guy’s money, and moves to Hollywood to be a big movie star,” she finished quickly. “The End.”
Eduardo’s expression flashed from confused to suspicious to furious faster than a time-lapse video on YouTube. “Let me see your business card. And take off those dark glasses, too.”
She flipped her card out of her bag, with a fed-up sigh. “I’m not taking off my glasses. I just had my eyes done.”
He glanced at the card. “I thought your name was Joy.”
“I, uh, go by my middle name. Sometimes. Professionally, I mean.” She was really messing this up now.
“You know, I remember someone named Summer.” Eduardo stepped toward her.
Three melodic tones sounded as the lights dimmed through the theater, signaling the audience to return to their seats. Eduardo thrust out his arm, trapping her against the wall.
He leaned in so close she could smell his spearmint gum. “That Summer was extremely clumsy and prone to...accidents.”
Summer glanced up to the top of the staircase. No Dash.
So much for her knight in shining armor.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Excuse me, sir.” Dorothy tapped Eduardo lightly on the shoulder.
Summer’s legs felt like Ramen noodles, as she slid halfway down the wall in relief. Her rescuer had appeared out of nowhere: a female knight in shining blue polyester.
Eduardo turned his glower on Dorothy. “We’re having a private conversation here, lady, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, of course.” Summer noticed that Dorothy’s knuckles were white on the handle of her evening bag. “But I’m looking for the owner of a black Continental. Someone left the lights on and I’m so afraid the battery will drain. Those vintage cars aren’t always reliable, you know.”
Way to go, Dorothy.
“Not mine,” Eduardo snarled.
Before he could return his attention her way, Summer stepped hard on his foot with the heel of her pump. Then she flipped the arm he’d been using to balance himself against the wall straight up into the air.
Eduardo hit the carpet with a helpless oomph. Summer whirled toward the stairs, pulling Dorothy with her. “Should have broken that arm.”
“The elevator, dear.” Dorothy pointed down a short hall. Dash, waiting by the doors, smoothly pressed the Up arrow button and motioned for them to hurry.
“You can forget our conversation, FYI,” Summer threw to Eduardo, over her shoulder. “Consider yourself blackballed in L.A.”
Eduardo struggled to his feet, scowling and rubbing his arm. “Hey, I didn’t kill him!” he called, as the elevator doors opened.
An earnest young woman with a clipboard emerged from the stage entrance. “Eduardo, you’re on,” she said, nipping at his heels like a border collie as she herded him back through the door. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. And you’re not supposed to give away the ending of the play.”
“Thanks for nothing,” Summer told Dash, as he leaned against the back panel of the elevator, looking amused. “You disappeared on me.”
“No, I didn’t. Dorothy beat me to it, that’s all. Very impressive self-defense moves, by the way.”
Summer sighed. “I think I wrecked my shoe.”
“So what did you find out, dear?” Dorothy asked.
“Not a whole lot,” Summer admitted. “Eduardo definitely freaked out when I started pushing his buttons about Vince, though.”
“My. You asked him about his involvement straight out?”
“No, no,” Summer assured her. “I was totally subtle, I swear. I made up this fake movie plot that sounded like the whole Dr. A deal. It took him a sec or two to catch on, before he went ballistic. He could definitely be a murderer. He has some anger management issues.”
“Well, I’m sure Detective Donovan will be interested in the false-family angle,” Dorothy said. “But even if Eduardo did kill Dr. A, we still can’t prove it entirely.”
“Not yet,” Summer said. “We will, though, really soon. That was good thinking back there on the black car, by the way. He didn’t even blink when you mentioned it.”
“If the car wasn’t his, he probably wasn’t the one who tried to bump us into the ocean,” Dash said. “Unless he’s a better actor than we thought.”
“He’s not,” Summer said.
The elevator doors opened to the deserted lobby. Apparently, the other theatergoers had returned to their seats to suffer through the concluding acts of Subtle Signs of Murder. Or run for their lives.
“Oh, dear. Ernie’s still waiting over there under the clock,” Dorothy said. “I’m afraid I told him I was going to the powder room.”
“Just say there was a line, so you went downstairs to the other ladies room and ran into me and Dash,” Summer said. “You don’t have to mention that you bumped into Eduardo, too.”
Dorothy sighed. “I do hate lying to poor Ernie. I feel as if I’ve been less than honest with him lately.”
“Don’t worry, Dorothy, you’re not lying,” Summer said. “You’re just sort of avoiding the truth. That’s completely different.”
Sometimes, a hundred percent honesty got you nowhere.
* * *
As it turned out, none of Dorothy’s theater companions cared to stay for the last act of Subtle Signs of Murder. She couldn’t say she was overly disappointed about missing the conclusion, either, even with the highly advertised twist ending.
“There’s no point in waiting around for Eduardo to come after us, anyway,” Summer said, as they all stepped out into the still-balmy night air.
“Wait, he’s coming after you?” Ernie said. “I missed something, didn’t I?”
“Why don’t you bring the car around, Ernie?” Dash suggested, quickly. “I’ll wait here with Dorothy and Summer, just in case.”
“In case of what?” Ernie threw up his hands. “Someone please tell me what’s going on here.”
“Nothing really, Ernie.” Dorothy lightly touched her hair. “Summer had a brief discussion with Eduardo about his acting résumé, that’s all. Her father heads a very successful film company out in California. Syd Sloan Productions—perhaps you’ve heard of it?”
“No,” Ernie said. “Sorry.”
“Well, apparently Eduardo didn’t agree with Summer’s evaluation of his talent,” Dorothy said.
Summer shrugged. “Hey, I had to be honest. Showbiz is brutal.”
“I’ll get the car with you, Ernie.” Dash took him by the elbow and turned them both in the direction of the parking garage. “The ladies will be fine on their own for a few minutes. One of them has a black belt.”
“Purple,” Summer corrected. “It takes a long time to earn a black belt. I can break boards, no problem, though.”
“Well, that’s certainly reassuring, isn’t it?” Dorothy smiled at Ernie. “I’ll be in very good hands.”
Summer flipped open her compact to freshen her lipstick as the men finally disappeared into the dark parking garage. “Wow, I knew Ernie was superprotective of you, Dorothy, but don’t you think maybe he goes a little overboard?”
“All this business with Dr. A has everyone on edge,” Dorothy said. “Poor Ernie already has a full plate, taking such good care of Grace. Caring for an Alzheimer’s patient is extremely stressful. I suppose that his anxiety spills over to others sometimes.”
Ernie was a thoughtful, caring and generous man. Grace was very lucky.
He braked the rental car at the curb and Dash jumped out of the passenger side to help Dorothy and Summer into the back.
“So Ernie, when will they be done with your car?” Summer kicked off her pumps to rub her cramped toes.
“Not for another week or two, I guess,” Ernie answered. “I drove by the shop this afternoon, and they hadn’t even moved it from the parking lot yet.” He took his cell phone from the cup holder. “Mind if I call home before we take off? I should check in on Grace.”
“Oh my, she’s not alone, is she?” Dorothy said. Almost immediately, she wished she could retrieve her words. She didn’t want to make Ernie feel guilty about his evening out, especially since she and Summer had invited him.
“No, no, Mary Lee is staying with her,” Ernie said. “They’re watching reruns of I Love Lucy. Grace loves those.”
“Me, too,” Summer said. “They’re almost as funny as Subtle Signs of Murder.”
“I don’t think that play was supposed to be a comedy,” Dash said. “But it did offer some entertaining moments.”
Ernie frowned as he double-checked his phone. “No answer. That’s strange. I told Mary Lee during the intermission that I’d be calling again later.”
“Perhaps she didn’t hear the phone ring over the TV,” Dorothy said.
“Yeah, that’s probably it.” Ernie replaced his cell in the cup holder and turned the key in the ignition. “Grace’s hearing hasn’t been the best lately. And Mary Lee would have called if there was any kind of emergency. I left my number on the fridge.”
“We’ll be back at Hibiscus Pointe soon, anyway,” Dash said. “Let’s take Cypress Ridge, Ernie. It’s faster.”
“I hope it wasn’t a mistake to leave Mary Lee in charge.” Ernie cut the wheel to avoid a battered pickup hauling a load of baby palm trees. “She took Dr. A’s death pretty hard, and she’s always been a little spacey, if you ask me.”
Unfortunately, Cypress Ridge was a series of red lights, followed by a major traffic snarl. “There’s that guy with the palm trees again.” Ernie tapped the steering wheel. “How did he get ahead of us? And what’s he doing with a bunch of trees at eleven o’clock on a Sunday night?”
“Maybe he’s transplanting them from one of these corporate parks to a better location,” Dash said. “His own backyard, for instance.”
“Oh my gosh!” Summer said suddenly, as they came to a standstill at yet another red light. “Dorothy, look!” She pointed through the window. “I think that’s Marilyn’s car, outside Dr. A’s office. See, next to that dumpster thing?”
“It does look like hers,” Dorothy said, as traffic began to move again. “What do you suppose she’s doing there at this time of night?”
“Hey, we just passed the entrance.” Summer twisted back toward the front seat. “Ernie, can you pull a U-ie?”
“Not a good idea,” he said. “I’ve already seen two cops.”
“Oh dear. I’m afraid that Marilyn is up to no good,” Dorothy said.
“Maybe she met up with a date or a bunch of friends and left her car there,” Dash said.
“Well, we have to find out,” Dorothy said. Ernie frowned slightly as he took the next legal left turn, and then she remembered: Grace. “Oh, my! Ernie, I’m so sorry, how thoughtless of me. Of course, we need to get back to Hibiscus Pointe right away.”
“It’s okay, Dot. I’ll try Mary Lee again from the parking lot.”
Summer had her hand on the door handle, ready to jump out, even before he stopped the car in front of the Cypress Ridge Park professional building.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dash barred her way with his arm. “Are you crazy? You can’t just go in there on your own, after business hours. And look, there’s police tape across the front door. It’s still a crime scene.”
“I won’t be alone,” Summer insisted. “Dorothy will be with me.”
“That’s right,” Dorothy said, even though she shared Dash’s concerns.
“Worst idea I ever heard,” Ernie said. “You ladies hold on just a second.” He quickly dialed his phone. “Nope. Answering machine.”
“No one listens to those anyway,” Summer said.
“Mary Lee does have a cell phone,” Ernie said, after he finished leaving a message. “I have her number in my contacts somewhere.” He dialed again and shook his head. “No luck.”
“Ernie, you go straight home to Grace.” Dorothy hopped out of the rental car after Summer. “Dash, do you think you could drive your own car back from Hibiscus Pointe to pick us up?”
“Well, sure, but—” Dash began.
“Wonderful,” Dorothy said. “Summer and I will wait out front, right by that sea myrtle bush. We’ll just keep an eye out here, in case Marilyn leaves the building.”
“And what will you do if that happens?” Ernie demanded.
“Nothing,” Dorothy and Summer promised, at the same time.
“We’ll call the cops,” Summer added, holding up her pink phone. “We need to talk to Donovan anyway.”
“I can make it back here in fifteen minutes,” Dash told Ernie.
“Well, all right.” Ernie still seemed reluctant, but he had to be even more worried about Grace. “Maybe you should call that detective guy right now, and let him know what’s going on.”
“Marilyn may not even be here, as Dash said,” Dorothy reminded him. “We don’t want to raise a false alarm, especially with Summer here. Now scoot on home, Ernie. Please.”
It took a bit more convincing, but finally she and Summer stood outside of Dr. A’s office building. She heard an astounding jingle of metal as her partner rummaged in her bag under the security light.
“Oh, good, here we go.” Summer’s voice was slightly muffled.
“Please tell me that’s not what I think it is,” Dorothy said.
Summer opened her fist, with a flourish. “Ta-da! I swiped these off Marilyn’s kitchen counter. Now we can just let ourselves in.”
Dorothy wearily rubbed her temples. She felt a definite headache coming on.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Summer gleefully twirled Marilyn’s keychain around her finger. “Don’t worry, Dorothy. I’m sure she has a spare set.”
For some reason, her friend still looked horrified. Or maybe she was just surprised. That had to be it.
“Well, we can’t just go in the building” Dorothy pointed out. “Especially with stolen keys.”
Seriously? Summer rolled her eyes. Dorothy would never make it on Citizen’s Arrest. “The keys aren’t stolen,” she assured her. “We’re just kind of borrowing them. I’m an employee, remember? Well, I was. And hey, look at all this other cool stuff.” With a flick of her thumb, she rifled through the keys and miniature implements on the ring like a hand of cards.
“My, isn’t that something? It’s like one of my old charm bracelets.” Dorothy seemed more fascinated than nervous now.
Summer selected a tiny pair of scissors and snipped a section of the crime tape. “Timber!” she called, with satisfaction. The tape hung from the door like a dead streamer the day after Halloween.
“Well, that’s that, I suppose.” Dorothy rubbed the side of her forehead again.
Why did she keep doing that? Summer wondered. Her partner sure had a lot of allergies. One by one, she tried all of Marilyn’s keys.
“Don’t try to force anything, dear,” Dorothy said. “You’ll ruin them.”
