Waiting and Watching (14 page)

Sylvia's mouth curled into an indignant smirk. “Hardly.” She folded her arms beneath her ample bosom. “I was aiming for one of ‘Charlie's Angels'.”

Julio snorted. Sylvia gave him a look that silenced him and left him staring at his shoes, chortling in silence.

“We were worried about you, Sylvia?” Myrna announced. “You never forget Hot Wings Fridays at Hooter's with me. I really got concerned when I saw this handsome young man already waiting for you when I got here. I told him you would never stand up a good looking guy or pass on hot wings. And where did you come from anyway? I didn't hear the elevator ding.”

Julio said nothing, but from the look on his face as he stood there with his hands in his pants pockets, Sylvia knew he wasn't buying her story either.

“Myrna, I'm sorry. You're so sweet to always think of me, but you worry too much. I simply forgot about the wings since my handsome friend here has offered to take me out for dinner. Why don't you give me that?” she said, grabbing the covered plate—presumably filled with hot wings—out of Myrna's hands and virtually tossing it at Julio. Had he not been able to tear his hands out of his pockets fast enough, he would have been wearing barbecued hot wings all over his expensive Desmond Merrion suit.

“Thank you so much,” Sylvia went on. “I'll just put the plate in the fridge and I'll look forward to having the wings for lunch tomorrow. Goodbye, dear. See you soon,” she told Myrna, attempting to turn her friend around and send her on her way.

“Come on in, Julio.” She grabbed his jacket sleeve in one hand and pulled her apartment key out of her hip pocket, and unlocked her front door. She pushed her front door open and dragged Julio through the doorway with her.

Sylvia quickly shut the door before Myrna could even think of following them inside. Leaning her head back against the door, she listened for the elevator to collect Myrna. “Bad luck running into her. She's the building gossip, and why are you here? We were supposed to have dinner together, not lunch.”

“Well, Miss Sylvia, if you'd been here, I wouldn't have run into her. I called all morning long and when you didn't answer, I got worried. Now what's going on?”

“We have to act fast,” she said. “You need to go into Vreeland's apartment and replace this key,” she said, pulling it out of her other pocket and waving the key in Julio's face. “I'll explain as soon as we get this back to its original spot.”

“Now let me see if I understand this correctly. You want me, a well-respected attorney licensed by the state of Florida to practice law to illegally enter a woman's apartment to replace a key you stole. That is not going to happen, Sylvia. Now, let's have the full story and together we can figure out a better way to solve this dilemma.”

Frustrated, Sylvia sat down and explained, “There's no one in the apartment right now, and the door is unlocked. Who knows how long we'll have to replace the key before Vreeland or the gay pistoleros might be back.”

“Gay pistoleros?” Julio was startled by the mention of men.

“Yep. If not for the blaring music, I would've had to listen to two guys getting it on…well, sort of.”

“Sort of?” he parroted again. “Look, tell me the entire story. From the beginning.”

Julio listened intently and the more he heard, the more concerned he became. Why did two men have what sounded like open access to Beth Vreeland's apartment? He wondered what kind of game this Vreeland woman was either running or involved in. In any case, it wouldn't be good for Sylvia to be involved or for anyone living across the hall to know that she had been in there. Julio agreed that it was mandatory they replace the key without anyone knowing it had ever been missing. The super knew Sylvia had been in the apartment, so if the owner complained, it could all come crashing down on her.

Julio needed a plan and fast. Someone could be entering that apartment right now or already be there. If so, they would have already discovered the unlocked front door, and it wouldn't be long before they noticed the missing key or that someone had been hiding in the closet. He had an idea and knew Sylvia would be delighted to play her part.

Trading in her cane for the more obvious walker, they both went out into the hallway. Sylvia rang the bell of each apartment on her floor. Luck was with them and no one answered. It was still early afternoon, so all the tenants were probably out.

“Each floor has three elevators,” Sylvia had told him, “two for the residents and one service elevator.”

Julio walked over to the elevator call panel and Julio pushed both the up and down buttons. The first cab to arrive was empty. Julio stepped in and switched the off button. Shortly the second elevator opened and he did the same with it. Both elevators were now incapacitated and unless someone wanted to walk up 6 floors, the only access left was the service elevator. Sylvia opened the hall door to the service elevator and laid herself prone on the floor, with her hand over her heart. If anyone came off, they would have to step or fall over an elderly lady on the floor in the thralls of a heart attack.

In the meantime, Julio raced into Vreeland's apartment and replaced the key over the doorframe. He quickly opened the closet, hung up the fallen coat and raced for his life and professional reputation back out into the hallway.

It was empty. He flicked the automatic lock button and closed the door with a great sigh of relief. As the elevators were beginning to screech with their alarms in full bloom, Julio turned them back on. The doors closed and each cab slid quickly away to pick up impatiently waiting residents in the lobby.

With all sense of urgency gone, Julio opened the hall door leading to the service elevator. As anticipated, there was Sylvia lying face up on the tile floor with her walker on its side. But now she was covered in blood.

“Creative touch, Sylvia. Now let's get a burger to go with all that ketchup.”

“A burger!” Sylvia screamed, struggling to sit up. “No way, cheapskate. It's a steak with all the trimmings for me. After what I've been through today, you can add a couple of dirty martinis to the tab, too. Now, pick my ass up off the floor before it goes to sleep.”

Julio laughed and helped Sylvia and her walker to upright positions. When they got back to Sylvia's apartment, she filled him in on all that had happened to her that morning. She proudly gave him the list of the three men's names and addresses with vivid descriptions of the pictures. Julio noted that Sylvia's memory was superb, but she didn't need to be that accurate when she began gleefully describing the positions in which Vreeland and the men were photographed.

“Okay. I think I'm getting the picture, Sylvia. You don't have to act them out.”

“You're awfully prudish for a youngster,” Sylvia said. “You act like you're talking to your mother.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Sylvia. You are one brave lady, but you're a little wild for me. Now, I have to get back to the office. I'll be back to take you out to dinner at about six. Where would you like go?”

“How about Angelo's? I've heard it's a swinging place with a great bar and serves the best steak in town. I've always wanted to go there, but it's so expensive. A big time lawyer like you should be able to handle it, no problem.” She smiled demurely.

“Sylvia, you sure know how to get what you want. But you're worth it, and I have a feeling I'll have the best looking date in the place.”

“I have the perfect outfit I've been saving for such a special occasion. Together, honey, we'll make heads spin.”

Julio turned to the door, rolled his eyes and muttered, under his breath, “I don't doubt it.”

As Julio approached Sylvia's apartment building, the doorman was there to greet him. With a huge smile on his face, he waved Julio over to the lobby's seating area. There sat Sylvia, answering the question of
Whatever Happened to Baby Jane
. Sylvia's bright red hair sparkled with glitter and several rhinestone butterfly hair pins. She had a dark circle of rouge on each cheek and bright pink lipstick. Her eyebrows were darkened with what had to be magic marker, topping eyelashes that looked like Amazonian tarantulas. Julio didn't know whether to scream, laugh or cry. Ever the debonair gentleman, he greeted Sylvia with a beaming smile and told her she looked lovely. He helped her up from her chair and noticed she had neither her walker nor her cane. He also noticed she had on high heels.

“Shouldn't you at least have your cane with you tonight?”

“Hell, no. What do I need with a cane when I have your arm?” she asked, slipping her arm through his and smiling up at him like a sixteen-year-old on her first date.

At that moment, Julio was glad he was taking her to the most expensive place in town,

* * * *

Julio was pleased he'd reserved a table with a perfect waterfront view. Sylvia was in her glory. When he asked her if she wanted anything to drink, she replied, “Rob Roy on the Rocks with a twist, please.”

Por Dios! Julio thought, this could be a very long night…or an extremely short one.

Throughout dinner, Sylvia talked about her life in Brooklyn, where—come to find out—she'd been a cop and then a private investigator for twenty-six years. He discovered she was a widow with one daughter, who didn't have much time for her mother. He wished he could tell her daughter how lucky she was to still have her mother. She was missing precious time with Sylvia, time he knew she would want back once Sylvia was gone. It's such a shame, he thought.

Halfway through the meal, Julio realized he was actually enjoying himself. Sylvia was quite an entertaining character, a madcap Auntie Mame who made family members roll their eyes whenever her name was mentioned, yet everyone rushed to be part of her circle of admirers.

When Sylvia indulged in two more Rob Roys, Julio began getting more than a little concerned. He ended the dinner as soon as he could and finally whisked away a very drunk, very wobbly, but fun dinner date to his car.

When Sylvia passed out on the way home, Julio smiled to himself. When he heard her mumbling something about him being a gentleman and not taking advantage of her, he chuckled softly. But when she started yelling, “I surrender,” as she waved her white lace handkerchief, he shuddered at the thought of what that meant.

Julio had to wake her up and practically carry her into the lobby when they arrived at her building. The doorman gave Julio a strange look and asked if he could help take Mrs. Sands up to her apartment. Sylvia shooed him away with a wave of that handkerchief and told the doorman that her date would escort her to her door. There, Julio laid her down on the couch. He covered her with a blanket and quietly tiptoed out, making sure the door was locked behind him.

Saturday—September 20. 1986

Julio finally closed his eyes that night and was awakened by the phone with a hysterical Sylvia on the other end.

“Vreeland's back and she's moving out!” Sylvia shouted excitedly.

Julio pulled the phone away from his ear. “What time is it? Didn't I just literally drop you off on your couch?”

“It's early for Vreeland. Thirty minutes past midnight. Come over and let's see what she's up to.”

“I can't believe I 'm saying this, but okay.”

Julio threw on some clothes and drove from Miami to Sylvia's apartment in Coral Gables. Luckily, Julio didn't partake in any alcohol on his date with Sylvia that night so he was able to get up and drive without problems.

The doorman knew him by now and probably thought he was a gigolo of some sort since he just saw him escorting a drunken Sylvia up to her apartment. The doorman nodded to Julio as he went directly to the elevator, where he noticed it was stopped on the sixth floor where Sylvia and Vreeland lived. The elevator car finally reached the lobby and the doors opened. Vreeland was in the elevator with a box precariously balanced on the back bar. She put her head down as though she were deliberately avoiding looking at him, but the back wall had a mirror on it. It enabled Julio to get a good look at her. She quickly left the elevator at the lobby level and, unable to believe what he'd seen, Julio pushed the button for the sixth floor.

He banged on Sylvia's door and when she opened it, he brushed past her to plop down on the sofa, with a stunned expression on his face.

“What the hell's the matter with you?” Sylvia asked with apprehension. “You just see a ghost or something?”

“Or something,” he said. “Vreeland's a man. She's a fucking man!”

“Vreeland? You're fucking kidding me!”

“No. I got a pretty close look at her in the elevator, and she's a man disguised as a woman. Sylvia, I can't believe you just said the F-word.”

Sylvia replied. “And I can't believe you said she's a fucking man. Are you sure?”

I saw her face in the mirror on the elevator. Sylvia, she's a man if I ever saw one. He has a dark beard and had heavy make-up on, but you can't cover up a beard that heavy.”

“This is too fucking weird,” Sylvia said.

“Please stop saying the F word, Sylvia. I'm sorry I blurted it out.”

“Relax, Julio. It's not like I haven't heard that word before and besides I like saying it. It makes me feel hip, young and empowered. Now, I think it's time you tell me what business you have with Vreeland. You told me you want information for a case, but I'm not an idiot. There's got to be more to the story than that.”

“You're right, Sylvia. I owe you an explanation.”

Julio filled Sylvia in on the whole tragic story so that she was up to date. “In fact,” you know more now than my sister knows since she hasn't heard this latest news yet about Vreeland. We only knew she sold my parents their house and had a terrible fight with my mother.”

“Well,” Sylvia said, “our Mrs. Vreeland certainly isn't that Mrs. Vreeland, so who is he and why is he impersonating her?”