The Legacy: A Kimberly & Sykes Mystery Novel (9 page)

Lauren tried to open her eyes but they wouldn’t cooperate. She turned over and gently massaged the bridge of her nose and the corner of her eyes and tried again. This time her eyes opened slightly and she raised her eyebrows to force them to open further, but it was a struggle. Lauren leaned over to her bedside table and rummaged around with her fingers to find the eye drops. Ever since her failed vision correction surgery – her astigmatism returned – Lauren suffered from dry eyes. Her fingers found the familiar shaped vial, and she fell back on her pillow and let the drops fill her eyes. Her eyelids loosened leaving the excess liquid to fall like tears down the sides of her face and onto her pillow. Mopping the excess solution from her cheeks with tissue, she tested her eyes. This time they opened easily.

No sounds could be heard from the other side of her door. Where was Sykes she wondered? Lauren swung her legs off the bed, stretched her arms and twisted from side-to-side to ease the kinks in her back. Her clothes were badly creased and she tried to brush them out with her hands, but they were beyond straightening.

Once changed, Lauren went to the living room. She expected to find Sykes sitting and waiting for her to emerge, but, he was gone. Never being comfortable with sharing her space she was happy to have her apartment to herself. Humming while she rooted in the freezer for leftovers, Lauren punching her fist in the air when she found a pack of long-forgotten Bolognese. She ran hot tap water over the plastic freezer container to release the sauce and plopped it in a glass microwave dish. 

While the food defrosted she put the kettle on to boil and made some tea. Surprised that there were no phone messages from the police or her boss, Lauren contemplated calling them, but by the time her pasta was ready, she had talked herself out of doing anything. The police knew where she lived if they wanted to talk to her, and her supervisor knew her phone number.

The food stopped her hunger but not Lauren’s exploding head. Taking a pad and pen from her office drawer, she spent the next couple of hours documenting everything that had happened over the previous two days. Satisfied she hadn’t missed anything, she transferred all the key points on to yellow sticky notes and stuck them in order on the wall. Leaning back in her chair and going over each point she was interrupted by the buzzing sound of her intercom.

Sykes was back.

Lauren hesitated for just a moment, her finger wavering above the button that would open the front door. If she wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery she had no choice but to continue working with Sykes. Letting her finger fall, she waited at her apartment door with her eye pressed into the peephole. She timed Sykes’ arrival and opened the door on cue. 

The aromas of spicy food swirled around the doorway straight to Lauren’s nose. Sykes was laden with bags from the local Indian takeaway. With an exaggerated inward breath Lauren stepped aside. “I thought you had left.”

“Wishful thinking perhaps?” he said with a smile. “You won’t get rid of me that easily, at least not before we find what we are looking for. I had a couple of things to do and thought it made sense to pick up some food on the way back.” Sykes placed the containers on the kitchen counter and opened the cupboard to pull out some plates. Lauren raised her eyebrow and folded her arms. Sykes, in the process of taking two bowls from the upper cabinet, stopped mid air. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken it for granted it was o.k. to help myself.” He put the bowls delicately on the countertop and pointed to the open containers. “Lauren, would it be O.K. if I got plates and bowls so we can eat?”

Lauren gave a single nod of her head and sat down on a bar stool, pulling it up to the counter.

“I made pasta a couple of hours ago but I could certainly eat again, especially from this restaurant, it’s one of my favorites.”

Sykes dished the food and opened a carrier bag that contained a six-pack of cold  India Pale Ale. He opened one for each of them, getting Lauren the glass she requested while he drank from the bottle.

Lauren explained what she had been doing with the yellow stickies on her wall and Sykes added a few comments about additional points she could include. With the dishwasher loaded and the remaining food put away it was time to get back on track and plan their next steps.

“That was quite the break, but, it’s time to pick up from where we left off. I was on my way to my father’s place and you were on your way to…?”

“Nice try. I didn’t say where I was going. We can pick up where you left off and head to your father’s building. It’s after supper, most people should be home.” Lauren hadn’t expected to get a straight answer however, it didn’t stop her wondering where he had gone, and what he was doing.

“Why the mystery?”

“Nothing mysterious about it Lauren. It’s about ‘need-to-know’. What I was doing is nothing you need to know.” Sykes said with authority.

Lauren looked at him for a moment, shrugged her shoulders and then got ready to leave. The sooner they were back on track, the sooner this would be over, she thought.

Lauren and Sykes were soon back at her father’s apartment building, encouraged to see lights in windows indicating people were home. Mike Kimberly’s apartment unit had already been rented, but they started there in case the new renter had known him. Frequently in these old buildings, apartments changed hands amongst friends and acquaintances. It was a valid assumption but one that didn’t apply in this case: a newly arrived transplant from L.A. rented the apartment through an online agency.

Going door to door was slow, and the results were not positive. Residents in the building kept themselves to themselves and most had been living there less than two years. Most were surprised to hear a resident had recently died and didn’t know Mike Kimberly.

At the thirteenth door, they rang the bell and hit pay dirt. Who said number thirteen was an unlucky number? Having received no response to their knocks they were about to move down to the next floor when they heard a slow shuffling and some heavy panting behind the door. Wide eyed, Lauren looked at Sykes. Sykes held his finger to his lips, pulled Lauren back, and stepped in front of her. A few seconds later, the door opened in gradual increments. Sykes hunched his shoulders, leaned forward bouncing on the balls of his feet and raised his hands, ready to pounce.  

The last few inches of the door flew open and a middle-aged woman, wearing the largest and most colorful muumuu Sykes had ever seen, framed the door. The woman’s face was red from exertion and her breathing was heavy and labored. Her ample frame was supported by two crutches.

“Sorry, two knee surgeries. I move slowly,” she said, looking from Sykes to Lauren with a pained expression on her face.

Lauren’s hand was pressed against her chest. “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry we got you up!” she said. The last thing Lauren wanted was for this woman to do herself more damage. “Please, don’t exert yourself; we can come back another time. I’m just trying to find someone who knew Mike Kimberly, my father. He used to live here.”

“No time like the right time. I’m so sick of lying down. I shouldn’t be up but there is only so long I can stay down! I am supposed to walk a few steps every day and was just doing that when you knocked on the door. Come in, please, close and lock the door behind ya.” The woman turned slowly and grimaced. She paused to lean forward and lower her head so she could wipe the sweat off her face with of the palm her hand while still lean on the crutches. She wiped her hand on her muumuu and hobbled at a slow pace down the hall. “I’m so sorry to hear about your dad, he was a good friend. I miss him already. Come in, come in, and don’t forget to lock the door.”

Lauren mouthed ‘Yes’ to Sykes and gave him a high five behind the woman’s back. She had no idea who her father’s friends were yet, she wouldn’t have expected this huge woman and her colourful muumuu to be one of them. Sykes looked pensive as he pointed in the direction of the woman’s and gave Lauren a jerk of his head. Lauren knew he wanted her to follow the woman and responded with a frown. Of course, she was going to follow her. What else would she be doing she thought. Behind her, she heard the unmistakable sounds of the locks engaging.

Slow, but skillful with the crutches, the woman swung her whole body forward several inches at a time. She appeared to have no use of her legs at all and made tiny squeals of pain each time her feet touched the floor. By the time they made it to the living room sweat was pouring down her forehead, and she was clearly showing signs of pain.

A hospital bed was set in the corner of the room. It was in an acute vertical position and the woman manoeuvred herself against it, standing on a metal plate that appeared to be attached to the bed. She pressed the electronic controls and the bed moved slowly into a near horizontal position. The woman punched the controls again and the bed adjusted so that she was upright and able to look at them without straining to sit up. 

During the whole process, Lauren hovered helplessly while Sykes went to the window and looked up and down the street. Lauren saw the corner of his lips raise in a smile and tilted her head questioningly. Sykes lifted his hand and raised his thumb. Lauren assumed he meant they had not been followed.

The woman shuffled on the bed, fussing with her muumuu and Lauren gasped when she saw the woman’s feet poke out.

“You’re the cast woman!”

Sticking out from the end of the muumuu were two feet encased in plaster.

“What on earth happened to you?”

“‘You don’t have to whisper, I’m not dying, I had knee surgery. I had the first one done a month ago, but it didn’t set properly. They decided to reset it and do the other knee at the same time. I had to fight for it but I wanted to have them both done at the same time and get it over and done with. That way I only have to miss work once.” The woman’s face creased in pain as she used her hands and arms to adjust her position. “What did you say your name was? Laurie?”

Lauren was moving from foot to foot at the end of the bed. “No. Lauren, Lauren Kimberly. And this is… this is my friend, Sykes.”

“Wendy, Wendy Barton. This is my brother, Brian’s place,” she said in a strained voice.

“I’m so sorry, we won’t keep you, you are obviously in pain. Can you tell me anything about my father? I hadn’t seen him for a few years and I just wanted to talk with someone who knew him. I’m trying to understand why he may have killed himself.”

“I heard that’s what the police think. It was certainly a shock to me, too.” Wendy Barton didn’t see the look that passed between Lauren and Sykes. “He often popped down here to check in on me and I knew something was wrong when he didn’t come down on that Wednesday morning…I knew something was up, but, I was in much worse shape then and couldn’t even get to the phone to give him a call. I’ve been kicking myself every time I think about it. If only I had been able to get up there, I may have caught him and been able to talk him out of his depression. I am so very sorry, Lauren, your dad was a wonderful man.”

Lauren never expected to actually find someone who was friends with her father, the most she expected was to find someone who knew him enough to say ‘hello’. This was so unexpected Lauren didn’t know what to say, she blinked, trying to stop the tears from falling.

Wendy Barton seemed to understand that Lauren was too upset to talk. Her voice took on a tender tone as she nodded her head in memory and began to talk about Mike Kimberly.

Barton met Mike Kimberly four years previously. She was overloaded with groceries while coming into the building. Mike Kimberly had held the door for her and then carried some of her to her brother’s apartment. Barton was looking after her brother for a couple of weeks while he recovered from surgery of his own. Something clicked with her and Mike Kimberly; they laughed at each other’s cynical pronouncements of life and had similar ideas about how the world was going to hell in a hand basket. Before they knew it, they had become friends. Barton stressed that she found Mike an attractive guy and while she was nothing to look at, and there was certainly nothing going on between them, they started having the occasional lunch together and exchanged frequent phone calls to catch up on each other’s doings. He was a great friend.

Lauren winced in unison with Barton as she struggled to get comfortable on the bed. “Is there anything I can do for you? Can I make you some tea? Get you some juice? Anything?”

“Oh hush. Yeah, I’m in pain alright but it’s nice to have some company. I am fed up of reading, bored to death with the TV, and I’m definitely starting to get cabin fever.”

“Well, at least let me fluff up your pillows; you look so uncomfortable.”

Sykes gently supported Wendy Barton in his arms while Lauren gave the pillows a good shake.

“Ahhh,” Barton sighed settling back. “Amazing the difference a fluffed pillow can make. Now, where was I?”

“You were telling us Mike used to come over for dinner a lot when you came to visit your brother,” Sykes reminded her.

“Right. Well, there’s not too much more to say. From there he just started to drop in and see me at home whenever he was in the neighborhood.” Barton smiled and looked off with unfocused eyes. Lauren let her enjoy her memories before prodding her back to her story.

“Sorry, just thinking about Mike makes me smile. And makes me feel so sad. He was such a funny man; he would have me in stitches laughing and I swear he had no idea how funny he was. I had no idea he was depressed, but he must have been if he drank himself to death, don’t ya think?” Barton let out a long deep breath.

Lauren pulled up a stool and sat captivated listening to stories about her father. For his part, Sykes stood listening with his arms folded, occasionally moving to look out of the window. Barton remarked she used to be very handy before her body started failing her, and Lauren’s father was always keen to help her get things fixed. He was great at repairing items that she had thought were destined for the scrap pile and, since she was a good cook, he would repair things and she would make him dinner. 

Lauren tried to visualize the man she knew as the same fun loving man that Wendy Barton was describing. She had never known him to have close friends or to be very social. The man she knew had been so much in his head he never paid attention to anyone or anything that wasn’t in his purview. Lauren’s heart gave a tug. She wished she had known the man her father had become.

“Do you know if he was troubled by anything?” Sykes’ interjected.

“Well, sure he was. He was working on some big project. He wouldn’t tell me what it was, but he did tell me it was the toughest project he had ever worked on. I recall now that he mentioned he had a daughter, I guess that’s you?” Barton said to Lauren. “He said he’d let you down and when this project was finished he was going to knock on your door and give you the moon.”

Lauren’s breath caught in her throat and she gasped audibly.

Wendy Barton sank back into her pillow and closed her eyes. She was exhausted. Sykes leaned close to her and said in a soft voice, “Did Mike mention names of any friends, anybody we can follow up with and see if they have more information?”

“No. He didn’t talk about his other friends. He was more a ‘big picture’ guy, always talking about how the world was one giant series of systems and if you changed one system you could change the way the world worked. Frankly, it was all above my head but it was so fascinating. I miss him already, and, I still haven’t been able to find anyone to look after my place. No point sending my brother, he is useless. Guess it will be O.K. though.”

“Pardon?” Lauren and Sykes said in unison.

“My brother is usually very tired when he gets in from work and, by the time he’s cooked us something to eat and made sure I have my personal needs taken care of, he is off to bed for another early start.” Lauren jumped to her side as Barton cried out. “I’m O.K.…really…I just get big bolts of pain in my knees and that was one of them. Can you pass me that glass of juice with the straw sticking out? I’ve got some strong painkillers,” Barton said as she opened an amber colored medicine bottle. “I won’t be up for much once I take a couple of these but, as you can see, I’m going to be around for a few more weeks if you want to come by again.”

“Did Mike look after your house?” Sykes prompted.

“Yeah, he did. I have an old house, a quirky little place, probably should have been torn down years ago but I love it. Every now and again a pipe will burst. I should have had the whole house rewired and re-plumbed but I just don’t want the mess and the workmen traipsing all over. Mike was on at me to let him do the work. So I did. He set himself up in the garage workshop and was working on one room at a time. Like I said, he was good company, we had a few laughs, and it was a win-win for both of us. Sometimes he would stay over if he was working on something particularly late and I ended up giving him a set of keys.”

Lauren and Sykes looked at each other. Lauren had a huge smile on her face and Sykes smiled back, once again raising his thumbs out of Barton’s view. He smiled at Barton and said “Wendy, we’d be happy to check your place for you if you want. It would be no trouble to drop by and make sure there are no burst pipes,” Sykes said casually, “no trouble at all.”

Wendy Barton squinted and pursed her lips together as she looked at them. Just as Lauren thought she was going to decline, Barton let out another yelp as a spasm of pain shot through her body. “Damn,” she said “You’re sure you wouldn’t mind? I don’t know how long I am going to be in these casts. It would be good to know everything was all right, my brother doesn’t have time to go.”

Lauren tried to contain her excitement while Sykes jotted down the address, assuring Barton once again that it would be no trouble. Barton pointed to a set of keys on the sideboard and Sykes pocketed them. Placing the portable phone next to her, Lauren promised that she would call back later in the day to give her an update on her house. Making sure Barton had water and a snack within reach, they said goodbye. Sykes locked the front door and pushed the key through the letter box for Barton’s brother to pick up when he got home.

Lauren and Sykes walked down the hallway without a word. Then, as if by intuition, they turned to look at each other, smiled – then simultaneously broke into a run, laughing, as they raced to the car.