Cleanup (7 page)

But this time I braced myself. I held my breath as I marched past the cosmetics counters and headed for the back of the store where the masculine fragrances were displayed. There were so many of them.

“Can I help you?” asked an immaculately groomed young woman.

“Yes. I'm looking for a cologne,” I said. “Something with a musky scent.”

She smiled. “Almost everything we have has a musky scent.”

“This has a hint of vanilla, I think.”

She thought for a moment before pulling down seven or eight different bottles.

“These all have vanilla undertones,” she said.

I pulled my inhaler out of my purse and set it onto the counter. Then I reached for the first bottle.

The woman blocked my hand.

“You have allergies,” she said. It wasn't a question.

I nodded.

“You should stay away from this department,” she said. “You should stay away from this whole floor.” When I looked surprised, she said, “My sister has the same allergies. Once she had so much trouble breathing that she almost died.”

“So I guess you know something about first aid?” I said.

She nodded. “But that doesn't mean I want to have to use it.”

“This is important,” I said.

“Trust me, there isn't a man on the planet who's worth it,” she said.

“I still need to try,” I said.

She studied me for a few seconds before pulling out a cell phone. “Just in case,” she said. “I sure hope you know what you're doing.

* * *

I was never so glad to get out of a store and into the fresh air. My head was throbbing. My throat was constricted. I'd had to use the inhaler several times, and I was still having trouble breathing. If I had stayed in there for another minute, I don't know what would have happened.

But at least I had an answer.

I stood outside the store, gulping in the spring air. I didn't care that it smelled like exhaust fumes from all the cars that were circling around, looking for a parking space. It was air—outside air—and that was all I cared about.

Before I headed back to my car, I called Bodie. I ended up in voice mail and, after the beep, left him a detailed message.

* * *

It was dark when I arrived back at my apartment building. Again all the parking spots near the road were gone. The overhead lights hadn't been fixed either. I felt my hand tremble as I got out of the car, peering around cautiously to make sure that no one was going to jump out at me. When I reached the edge of the darkness and stepped into where the lights were, I felt the tension leave my shoulders.

A dog barked.

Brutus.

He was pulling so hard on his leash that he had yanked Tony Milano's arm straight out in front of him.

“I see your bruise has faded,” he said when he was close enough.

I nodded.

Brutus pulled harder at his leash.

“I think he's trying to tell you something,” I said.

Tony laughed. As he trotted after Brutus, he turned back to me. “I hear your mother stopped by.”

My mother? The last I had heard, my mother was in Mexico. I wanted to ask him what he meant, but he was already across the street.

My apartment reeked of glue from the new floors in the kitchen and bathroom and from the new countertops. I felt my throat closing up. I wasn't sure I could sleep here tonight. Maybe I could spend the night at Maria's. I was pretty sure Luisa would let me in if I explained my problem.

I put down my purse and reached for the light switch. Before I could flip it on, something flew out of the darkness at me. I crashed to the ground. What was happening? Who was it? Someone—a man—fell on top of me and pressed a rough hand over my mouth and nose. I fought back, bucking to get him off me. I kicked. I tried to bite his hand. Then I raised my knee, hard. He let out a groan and fell to the floor beside me. In a sliver of light from my kitchen window, I saw his face.

It was Charles Withers.

I started to get to my feet.

Something hit me from behind.

My knees buckled. I felt myself slide to the floor.

Blackness engulfed me.

CHAPTER
ELEVEN

I
heard voices. Angry, hushed voices. Charles Withers's voice. And Enid's.

“You said we wouldn't hurt her. You said—”

“She's fine,” Enid said.

“But—”

“Why don't you wait outside, Charles? I'll let you know if I need you.”

“They're not here, Enid. She doesn't have them. Let's get out of here.”

I opened my eyes. All of the kitchen drawers and cupboards were open. My desk had been ransacked. The contents of my purse were strewn all over the kitchen table.

“What are you doing here? What do you want?” I asked. My face felt huge and swollen, like someone had stuffed my head with cotton.

Enid spun around. Something blinded me. A flashlight. It shone in my face and then snapped off.

“Oh my God,” Charles said. “She's seen us. She'll call the police. She'll have us arrested. We broke into her apartment. We assaulted her.”

“We didn't break in,” Enid said. “Those workmen let me in.”

I remembered what Tony had said outside about my mother stopping by. Now it made sense.

“You entered my apartment under false pretenses,” I said. “That's illegal.”

I thought about the attempt to grab me in the parking lot—and about Enid's instructions to me when I had gone to clean Mr. Withers's house after his murder.

I also remembered what Maria had told me about her apartment being searched and about Charles and Enid wanting to know what she had on her when she was arrested. It was all adding up.

“And you assaulted me,” I said. “Twice.”

Light from the window washed Charles's face.

“Twice?” he said.

“Once just now. And once the night before last, in the parking lot.”

“That's ridiculous,” Charles said. “And we can explain—”

“You dropped a glove, Enid,” I said. It was a man's glove, but I remembered how easily it had slipped off her hand. I also remembered what Tony had said:
He runs like a girl.
“The police have it. I gave it to them when I reported the assault. It's evidence.”

Enid's whole body stiffened.

“What's she talking about, Enid?” Charles said. “What have you done? What have
we
done?”

“Nothing,” Enid snapped. “Wait outside, Charles.”

“You're looking for something,” I said. But what? That's when it hit me. “It's the keys, isn't it?” That's why they hadn't worked in Maria's lock. “You told the police Maria stole from your father-in-law. You had her and her apartment searched. Did you tell them one of the things she took was a set of keys? The ones you left at your father's house after you killed him?”

“
We
didn't kill him,” Charles said. He sounded horrified at the thought.

“But you
are
here for the keys, aren't you?”

“Enid left them at the house by mistake. She doesn't want the police to think—”

“That
she
killed him?” I said. I turned to her. “The keys were in his bedroom. That's where he was killed.”

“We had nothing to do with that,” Enid said. “We don't want any complications about the will, that's all. If the police think I was there, it might confuse the jury.”

“You mean they might think that someone besides Maria killed Mr. Withers?” I said.

Charles was staring at his wife.

“You didn't tell me you dropped your keys in the bedroom,” he said.

“What difference does it make? I didn't kill him,” Enid said. “Why would I?”

“Because you found out he was going to marry Maria,” I said. “So you killed him before he could do it and change his will. You didn't know that he'd already made a new one.”

Enid was silent.

“Then you attacked me and tried to steal my purse. You were looking for your keys,” I continued. “Now what are you going to do? Are you going to kill me too?”

“No!” Charles cried. “Nobody is going to kill anyone.”

I didn't look at him. My eyes were locked on Enid.

“You know the police are going to find out about this,” I said. “You know I'm going to tell them what I suspect. And with the glove and this break-in and the keys, they're going to have a lot of questions for you. For both of you.”

“Oh my God!” Charles said.

“Shut up, Charles.” Enid didn't take her eyes off me for even one second. “You don't have to tell them anything,” she said. “Yes, I knew about that woman. And, yes, I was there that morning. But I didn't kill him. I swear it, Charles. He was alive when I left him.” Her eyes shifted back to me. “We can make it worth your while to keep your mouth shut.”

“No,” I said.

“I know about you,” Enid said. “I know your background. We can get you a new job—a better job. We can help you get qualified to practice law here.”

I stared at her. Did she really think she could bribe me to cover up a murder?

“Enid, we should go,” Charles said. “We should—”

I edged toward the kitchen table to get my purse and my phone.

“Stop her, Charles,” Enid cried.

When Charles didn't make a move, Enid grabbed my arm. I tried to break free of her, but she shoved me backward. She was stronger than she looked. I tripped over a chair, crashed into a wall and crumpled to the floor. Something cracked under me. My ankle.

“Enid, please,” Charles said. His face was white and he was sweating.

Enid's eyes went to the MedicAlert bracelet on my wrist. She glanced at the inhaler on my kitchen counter.

“She's allergic to artificial scents,” she said mostly to herself. She turned toward me. “It must be a pretty bad allergy if you need that bracelet and an inhaler. I hear people can die from those allergy attacks.” She reached for her purse and pulled out a small spray vial.

“What are you doing?” Charles asked.

“She can make things look bad for us, Charles. If she tells the police that I was at the house—”

“That you were
both
at the house,” I said. My eyes were fixed on the spray vial. What was she going to do?

“If she tells them about the keys,” Enid continued, “that little tramp might get away with it. You don't want that to happen, do you? You don't want us to get arrested, do you?”

“For what?” Charles said. “You said you didn't do anything.
I
didn't do anything.”

“Look around you, Charles,” Enid said.

“I wasn't at the house. I didn't do anything.”

“Yes, you did,” I said. “You broke in here and attacked me. You're helping her. Even if you didn't kill your father, the police will charge you will being an accessory after the fact—and that's in addition to charges of break-and-enter, assault, forcible confinement and—” I looked at the perfume vial in Enid's hand and the desperate look on her face. “And attempted murder, if not murder,” I added.

Enid came toward me. I tried to get up, but pain shot up through my leg. My ankle was broken. I was sure of it.

“Things are bad enough for you two, Charles,” I said. “I know Enid wasn't alone in the house. I know a man was there. I smelled cologne. I had a reaction to it.”

“I wasn't there,” Charles wailed.

“It was the old man,” Enid said. “That's what you smelled.”

“No, it wasn't,” I told her. “I checked. Mr. Camden let me back into the house. I smelled all the cologne Mr. Withers had. There was no match. Mr. Camden knows what I suspect. I told him.”

Enid hand's sagged a little. For the first time, she seemed unsure of herself.

“I went to a store. I found the cologne I smelled that morning,” I said. “It's in that bag.” I nodded to the counter. “I called Detective Bodie. I left him a message. I asked him to come by and get it. I told him what I suspected. If anything happens to me, he'll come after you.”

Charles grabbed the department store bag and ripped it open. He pulled out the bottle of cologne and stared at it in astonishment. He held it up to Enid. Her face went pale.

“This is the same cologne that Andrew wears,” Charles said. “What did you two do, Enid?”

Enid was staring at the small bottle too.

“No,” she said weakly. “No.”

Someone hammered on my door.

“Ms. Suarez?” called a familiar voice. “Ms. Suarez, it's Detective Bodie.”

CHAPTER
TWELVE

“I
'm here,” I called to Bodie. “So are Enid and Charles Withers. They broke in and assaulted me.” I looked at Charles. His face was chalky white. “If you don't let him in, he'll break the door down. Things will be even worse for you.”

Charles walked slowly to the door and unlocked it. Bodie stood in the hall, his gun in his hand. Charles raised his hands instantly. Enid did the same. Bodie called for backup.

“Are you okay, Ms. Suarez?” Bodie asked.

“I think my ankle is broken.”

Bodie called an ambulance. While we waited, I told him what had happened.

“There's been a terrible mistake,” Charles said. “I can explain.”

“You'll get your chance,” Bodie said.

The other police and the ambulance arrived at almost the same time. The police took Charles and Enid into custody. The ambulance took me to the hospital.

* * *

It was late that night before I was ready to leave the hospital on crutches with my ankle in a cast. To my surprise, Bodie was waiting for me.

“Are you okay?”

“My ankle is broken. I'll be on crutches for six weeks.” That meant I wouldn't be able to work. I didn't know how I was going to be able to pay my rent. “What happened to Charles and Enid? And Andrew?”