Death in the Choir (17 page)

“Like a bottle of Scotch?”

“Exactly.” He looked at her almost sheepishly. “I’m
sorry for not taking your hunches more seriously at first. But I did eventually
do some investigating on my own, even though the case was officially closed.
And when I talked to Patricia a second time, unofficially, she told me that she
and Randall had…
er
…had a brief interlude on the couch
that night, but then she left afterwards -- and definitely didn’t return until
the next morning.”

Francesca jumped when the phone rang. “My nerves are
really frazzled.”

“Not to worry. I’ll get it.”

She could tell by his comments that it was Myra,
calling to check on her. After he hung up, he laughed. “She said, and I quote:
‘You tell her that Bainbridge will be right here if anything else happens.’”
Even Francesca chuckled when Tony added that he’d heard what sounded like an
approving woof in the background.

Tony took a seat in the rocking chair. “Are you still
awake enough to hear the ending of the story?”

Her eyes were growing heavy, but her curiosity was
keeping her awake. “Yes, please go on.”

“Well, then I stopped in to see Mrs.
Brumble
again. Even though I don’t think she’s the most
reliable witness in the world, she insisted she had seen two different women
that night. The first one I knew was Patricia. But she described the second one
as shorter than Patricia.”

He adjusted the quilt and stroked her head tenderly.

“That’s when I ruled out Lily and Candy as candidates
for being the second woman. Lily, Patricia, and Candy are about the same
height.”

He stopped for a moment and went into the kitchen,
returning with a glass of water, which he handed to Francesca. She gratefully
drained it.

“When I had supper with Lily tonight, I started
wondering why she wanted those love letters so badly, especially if, as she
claimed, she didn’t write them herself. There had to be something in them,
something about Randall, she wanted to hide.”

He took the empty glasses into the kitchen and
returned with a bag of ginger snaps. He opened the bag and offered it to her,
and she took a handful of cookies and began eating them. She was starting to
feel warm again – and safe.

“I think she desperately wanted to keep the truth from
coming out about Randall,” he said. “After all, she’d spent a lifetime
protecting her daughter, and she didn’t want to blow it. Lily was afraid of
what was in the letters.”

Francesca ate another cookie and offered the bag to
him. “Are you falling asleep, darling?” he asked.

“No, please go on. I want to hear the rest.”

“Well, when I discovered that White had hosted a party
with a bunch of drag queens in attendance, I put together all the pieces. The
second shorter ‘woman’ who visited Randall that night was really a man in drag.
And it was this ‘woman’ – Thomas – who poisoned his ex-lover.”

Francesca shuddered.
I could have been his second victim.

He bent down and kissed her lightly on her cheek. She
was very sleepy now, the stress and the warm milk taking their toll. Her
muscles were crying out in pain from all the tension of the evening, and she could
see purple bruises rising on her wrists and arms.

“You need to get some sleep, darling,” he said softly.

“I’m really afraid to be here alone, Tony. Is there
any chance you might call some of my friends to come and stay over?

“You got it.” He went over to her phone book and,
following her instructions, called Molly, Rebecca, and Shirley. She could hear
him explaining what had happened, and could imagine their astonished reactions.
It was only fifteen minutes later that the doorbell rang, and there was Molly.
By this time, Francesca had washed her face with cold water, changed into
pajamas, and climbed into bed.

She could hear Molly in the living room.

“So you’re with the police? Well, listen, I need to
ask you about a parking ticket I got last week while I was getting my hair done
downtown. The meter was broken and I…”

Tony interrupted. “I’m with homicide. You’ll want to
contact someone at city hall about that.”

A few moments later, Molly appeared in the bedroom.
She gave Francesca three extra-strength aspirins, a glass of water, and a big
kiss on the cheek.

“These will help you sleep and make your muscles relax
a bit, so you won’t be too sore in the morning.”

“Yes, doctor.”

Molly smiled. “Do you need anything else?”

“Tubs. He’s probably hiding in the basement.”

She heard voices in the living room again and then the
sound of someone going down the stairs, and in a few seconds Molly entered her
room, carrying Tubs.

“Here he is. He’ll definitely keep you warm.” Molly gently
placed the purring cat beside Francesca on the bed.
 
“Oh, Tony is getting ready to leave. He said
to tell you goodnight.”

Francesca heard the doorbell ring again and then the
voices of Rebecca and Shirley. She could also hear Tony, evidently filling them
in on what had happened. A few moments later, she saw Rebecca and Shirley
standing in the doorway.

“Now don’t worry about a thing,” Shirley whispered.
“We are spending the night here, and we’ll make sure you’re safe.”

Rebecca added: “That’s one good-looking police officer
out there, girlfriend, and I have the feeling he’s not just here on a
professional call!”

As Francesca was falling asleep, she heard the front
door open, and the sound of Tony leaving. She nestled against Tubs.

Thank you, God, for sparing
my life.
She was asleep in five minutes.

* * *

Waffles.
That was Francesca’s first
thought the next morning when she awakened.

As she rolled over in bed, she noticed that every
muscle in her body ached as if she had the flu.
But I’m alive, and I’m famished.

Feeling like she was 100 years old, she slowly made
her way to the bathroom and took a hot shower.
Forget the mak
e-
up.
She
combed her hair and dressed. Then she glanced in the mirror and reconsidered.
She decided on just a touch of lipstick, but when she tried to apply it, her
lips were too sore.
 

When she walked into the dining room with Tubs at her
heels, Tony was already there, reading the morning paper. She could hear Molly
and Rebecca bustling around in the kitchen.

“Shirley had to leave early,” Molly called out. “Her
family can’t survive long without her.”

Tony stood up quickly when he saw her and took her
tenderly in his arms.
He looks so nice,
Francesca thought,
I
wish I’d spent more time getting ready.

“How are you feeling?

“I feel like a truck ran over me.” Her lips were
making it difficult to enunciate clearly.“But I also have this feeling of utter
exhilaration at being alive.”

He gave her a hug. “I’m very glad you’re alive too.
How about some waffles?” He paused. “It’s one of the few things I can make from
scratch.”

“Sounds heavenly.” She sat down slowly on the chair.
Muscles she hadn’t realized existed were making their painful presence known.

Molly came into the room and handed her a mug of
coffee. “Better today?” Francesca nodded gratefully and took a sip of coffee. A
few minutes later, Tony placed a platter of waffles on the table, while Rebecca
poured everyone orange juice.

“A man who can cook!” Molly put waffles on her plate.
“You don’t have a twin brother, by any chance?”

Francesca poured a generous stream of syrup over her
waffles. “Not to change the subject, but there’s still something I’m wondering
about.” She looked at Tony. “What about the bottle of Scotch?”

Molly and Rebecca looked up from their waffles.

“I think we’ll discover when Thomas makes a full
confession that he brought the Scotch over so he and Randall could have a few
drinks together.”

Tony paused from his waffles.
 
“But Randall wasn’t used to drinking the hard
stuff and got thoroughly sloshed. Then they evidently had a big argument.
Somewhere along the line, Randall or Thomas made a pot of coffee. Thomas saw
the prescription bottle and figured the coffee would hide the taste.”

Molly chimed in now. “But sleeping pills wouldn’t
dissolve fully in coffee, and even if he was drunk, wouldn’t Randall have
noticed them?”

Tony started refilling all their coffee cups. “Randall
wasn’t taking pills. His doctor had prescribed
chlorohydrate
,
a liquid medication. It’s often used by insomniacs who have trouble swallowing
pills. So all Thomas had to do was put a big dose of the medication in the
coffee. The coffee disguised the taste, and Randall was so drunk, it didn’t
take much.”

Tony went into the kitchen, returning in a few minutes
with another platter of steaming waffles. He passed them around to the three
women and took a second helping for himself.

I like a man who can cook,
Francesca thought. Her own
skills in the kitchen were fairly limited, although she did have a few Italian recipes
that turned out well.

“There are plenty more, so just enjoy,” he said. After
a few moments, Francesca put her fork down and gave the handsome man across the
table from her a serious look.

“Tony, I hate to sound like someone in a soap opera,
but I mean this sincerely. How can I ever thank you for coming to my rescue
like that?”

Rebecca and Molly suddenly found something they just
had to do in the kitchen, which left her alone with Tony.

He smiled. “Well, my dear, we’ll think of something.”
He gave her an exaggerated wink that caused her to blush. “But it’s really your
neighbor’s dog that saved the day, not me.”

At that moment, Francesca glanced outside. There was
Bainbridge busily depositing a pile of doggy manure on her lawn. She put down
her fork and made her way slowly to the front door and opened it wide.
Bainbridge sat on his haunches and gazed at her with his yellow eyes, evidently
expecting a reproof.
 

His tail wagged excitedly when she called him over and
presented him with his very own plate of crispy waffles.
 

THE END