A Moment in Time (40 page)

The telephone jangled again, and she reached
over and picked it up. "Yes?"

"Val," Tami said in an alarmed voice, "it's
Colette on line two, and she's absolutely hysterical. It's
some¬thing about Hayden, that African pygmy hedgehog of hers."

"I'll get it," Valerie said. She immediately
pressed the line two button. "Colette, what's going on?" she
asked.

"V-V-Val, darling," Colette managed to say,
"someone's m-m-murdered Hayden!"

"Give me ten minutes to get there, Colette,"
Valerie replied.

"You're a darling," Colette said.

Valerie pushed the button for Daphne's line.
"Daphne," she said, when she'd picked up, "I have an emergency that
may take about an hour. Could you cover for me?"

"What's the emergency?" Daphne asked.

"Colette Richards's African pygmy hedgehog,"
Valerie replied.

"Oh, no," Daphne said. "Of course I'll cover
for you. I hope it's nothing serious."

"I'm not really certain," Valerie said
noncommittally. "I'll leave the charts with Tami."

"Sure, Val," Daphne said. "Let me know what
happens."

Valerie hung up, gathered up her charts and
carryall, put Elvis on his leash, and rushed out to reception to
leave the patient charts with Tami.

Santo knocked on the motel room door, and it
was opened at once by Arielle.

"Come on in," she said, swinging the door
wide.

Santo stepped into the room and noticed that
she was dressed in a filmy blouse that left little to the
imagination and a micromini skirt that barely covered her silk
bikini panties. Bottles of vodka and tonic sat open on a bedside
table, along with two glasses. One of them wore Arielle's plum
lipstick.

She saw him looking at the bottles. "Want to
wet your whistle?" she asked.

"I better not," Santo replied. "I don't have
much time. I've got to get back to Stonelair."

"Oh, come on, Santo," she cajoled, running a
fingertip down his chest, "as big a man as you are, one itsy-bitsy
drink won't do you any harm. Besides, I hate to drink alone."

Santo shrugged. "Okay," he said, "just
one."

Arielle padded over to the bedside table on
bare feet and poured a generous portion of vodka into a glass and
added a splash of tonic. She handed it to him, then picked up her
own.

"Cheers," she said, tapping her glass against
his.

Santo nodded and took a sip of the drink.

"Let's get comfortable," she said, spreading
out on the bed and patting the cover next to her.

"We need to talk," Santo said, eyeing her
hungrily.

"So we'll talk," she said. "Here." She patted
the bed a second time.

Santo shrugged his massive shoulders again
and strode over to the bed and sat down facing her on the spot
she'd indicated.

She looked into his eyes and ran a fingertip
down his chest once more. "Tell me, Santo," she said softly,
"what's on your mind?"

"It's like I told you on the telephone," he
said, "Wyn's decided to settle, so you can drop all your plans to
get rid of him. But. . ."

His voice trailed off into silence, and he
took another swallow of vodka and tonic.

"But," Arielle said, "we both know that I'm
worth more with him dead. Isn't that right?"

Santo nodded slowly.

"If I accept a settlement," she went on,
running a hand up and down his powerful biceps, "I'd be getting a
fraction of his worth. But if he suddenly dies and a settlement
hasn't been arrived at, I'm still legally his wife . . . And if he
marries again, he might change his will, leaving you out in the
cold." She lifted her micro- mini skirt and smoothed out an
imaginary wrinkle in her black silk panties.

Santo watched her with unabashed lust in his
eyes. She'd always flirted with him, but they'd never actually made
it. Things were different now, though. They weren't under Wyn's
watchful eyes, and besides, she and Wyn were going to be divorced
or . . . Wyn was going to be dead.

"We would have to move fast," Arielle said,
unbuttoning her sheer blouse down to the waist. "Before the lawyers
track me down and offer me a deal."

Santo nodded, but his eyes were riveted to
the perfect breasts that were revealed right in front of him,
within his touch.

"I know you could pull it off, Santo," she
said seductively. "And I would go there with you to help if need
be." She took a sip of her drink. "Just think, we could go off
together."

"That would certainly look suspicious," he
said.

"I mean eventually," Arielle said. "After
it's all over, and I've got his money."

"What about Lolo?" he asked, his hand
beginning to rub her naked thigh.

"Lolo," she said nastily. "What a joke. He's
not half the man you are, Santo. He doesn't deserve a woman like
me. Especially with all the money I'm going to have. And don't
worry, he'd be terrified to talk. Even if he knew anything."

She reached up and ran a finger down his
thick neck and back up to his lips, rubbing them, then trying to
penetrate them.

Santo caught her wrist in his hand. "We need
to work this out. Plan on exactly what we'll do— tonight," he
said.

"And we will," she said. "But let's have some
fun first, why don't we?"

Santo loosened his grip on her wrist. "You
were always a little crazy, Arielle," he said.

"So were you," she said, reaching between his
muscular thighs and stroking the erection that was visibly pressing
against his pants.

"I'm in a real hurry," Santo said. He set his
drink down and took hers out of her hand and placed it next to his.
He stared into her eyes for a mere instant before his massive torso
was on top of her.

"Yeah," he whispered, "we'll work out the
details later."

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Colette sat at the kitchen table, a soggy
linen handkerchief wadded in her wrinkled hand. Her eyes were
red-rimmed and swollen from the fitful tears that still came.

Valerie was leaning back against the center
island, looking over at her with a deeply saddened heart. Colette
looked her age today, she thought, and her normally optimistic and
extravagant demeanor was subdued. Valerie cleared her voice.
"Colette, I know it's difficult to make decisions now, and I don't
want to seem insensitive and crass. But I have to know what you
want to do with him."

Colette looked up at her. "Oh, darling," she
said, "you could never be insensitive or crass. I ... I think I'll
bury him in the garden and put a little marker there. That way we
can visit him. What do you think?"

"I think that's a very good idea," Valerie
replied. "I'll help you do it."

"No, Val," Colette replied. "You don't have
to do that. I'm quite capable. I'll find a little box and wrap him
up and put him in it, then do it myself."

"You're sure?" Valerie asked. "I don't mind
at all, you know. I loved Hayden, too."

"I know, darling," she said, "but I think
maybe I'd better do this alone. Just me and Hayden, maybe Puff
Puppy if he'll behave himself." She heaved a melancholy sigh. "I'll
wait until after the police have been here and gone. I should've
called them a long time ago, but I simply couldn't face having them
here. I appreciate your doing it, Val."

"I'm glad you let me call them," Valerie
said. "This is getting to be really scary, especially when you
think that somebody actually came into your house to do it."

Colette shivered anew. "Oh, the very
thought," she cried. "I feel so . . . violated, Val darling, I
can't begin to tell you."

"Well, I think that this was clearly a
premeditated act," Valerie said. "But I don't think that whoever
did it was after you."

Colette looked at her again. "You don't think
so, really? It's just like with Eddie, isn't it? The same person, I
would venture. Whoever murdered poor Noah knew exactly when and
where and how. The same with Hayden." Her voice broke, and she
paused a moment before continuing. "It's awful to think that
someone would take out their hate on innocent animals, no matter
who or what has angered them."

Valerie strode over and put an arm on
Colette's shoulder, "patting her tenderly. "I have a feeling,
Colette," she said, "that you and Eddie may not be the targets at
all."

Colette looked up at her, her watery blue
eyes questioning. "Then who, Val?" she asked.

Valerie went around and sat down at the table
opposite her. "It sounds crazy, I guess," she said, "but Hayden and
Noah were my patients, and you and Eddie are my friends. Neither
you nor Eddie can think of anybody that might have a grudge against
you." She paused and looked Colette in the eye. "But I know of at
least one person who has one against me."

Colette's eyes widened in alarm, and her hand
flew to her breast. "Oh, Val, darling," she cried. "You can't think
... but. . ."

Valerie nodded.

"Oh, it's too dreadful," Colette said. "Teddy
surely couldn't do anything this repugnant."

"I don't really know what he's capable of,"
Valerie responded, "but I'm seriously thinking about it. I don't
know who else both has a grudge against me and knows who my
patients and friends are."

"Will you tell the police?" Colette
asked.

"I don't honestly know," Valerie said. She
sighed wearily. "I certainly don't want to, but we have to get to
the bottom of this, Colette. If Teddy didn't have anything to do
with these crimes, then he shouldn't have any problem proving it.
At the same time, of course, I hate to put him through police
questioning if he's innocent. Imagine how that'll make him
feel."

"It's so hard to know what to do," Colette
said. "I wonder what's keeping the police anyway?"

"They shouldn't be much longer," Valerie
said.

Valerie's cell phone rang and startled them
both.

"I guess I'm a little jumpy," Colette
said.

"It's no wonder," Valerie replied, slipping
the cell phone off her belt and flipping it open. "I'll just be a
minute," she apologized.

Valerie pushed the talk button. "Valerie
Rochelle," she said. As she listened, she slowly turned away so
that Colette couldn't see her face. She didn't want her friend to
catch the increasingly worried expression there.

"Doesn't sound good," she finally said,
trying desperately to control her reaction to Wyn's news. She
didn't want to disturb Colette unnecessarily. Colette had received
enough terrible news today.

"Hold on for a minute, Wyn," she said. "I'm
over at my friend Colette's, and I need to speak to her for just a
moment." She pressed the hold button.

"Colette," she said, "there's an emergency
out at Stonelair. Something's wrong with a horse. Will you be all
right if I leave you alone until the police get here?"

"Of course, Val," Colette said. "You must go
tend to the horse. There's not a thing more you can do for Hayden.
Or me."

Valerie pressed the hold button again. "Wyn,"
she said, "I'll come right out there."

She pushed the end button, then snapped the
phone shut and slipped it back on her belt. "I'm sorry, Colette,"
she said. "Are you sure you can handle the police?"

"Of course I can," Colette responded. "I may
be old, but I'm not a fool."

"I didn't mean to imply that you were,"
Valerie said.

"I know you didn't, darling," Colette said.
"I'm just a bit touchy, I suppose. Forgive me." She paused a
moment, then went on. "And Val, I don't think I'll say anything to
the police about Teddy. What do you think? Perhaps I should just
tell them that you have some ideas that they should discuss with
you. Is that all right?"

"I think that's perfect, Colette," she
replied. "I hate to leave you now, but I'd better run."

"I'll be fine," Colette said. "Now run along.
You've got work to do. Oh, and why not leave Elvis here with me? He
and Puff Puppy can keep each other company. They get along so
beautifully."

"You're sure?" Valerie asked.

"Certainly," Colette said.

They brushed cheeks, and Valerie shouldered
her bag. She leaned down and gave Elvis a pat. "See you later,
Elvis," she said. Then she rushed out to her Jeep.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Lydia looked up from her desk when Teddy
walked into the office. "Thank God, you're here," she exclaimed.
"The telephone's been ringing off the hook, and let me tell you,
boss, there are some people who want to talk to you real bad. And
pronto isn't fast enough. Catch my drift?"

"Hello to you, too, Lydia," he said with a
smirk on his face. He went over to his desk and sat down in his
chair, then began rifling nervously through paperwork stacked
there.

She turned to face him, hair aflame with
fresh carrot-red dye, eyes flashing brightly with purple shadow and
black liner. "Listen, Teddy," she said earnestly, "I'm dead
serious. The shit's starting to hit the fan. Or I should say
fans
, to be more precise. I don't know exactly what's going
on, but I've got a damn good idea, boss. And I'm telling you, you'd
better get your ass in gear and start making some mighty sweet
phone calls. They're going to be asking for your pretty blond head
on a nice big platter."

"You think I don't know that, Lydia," he said
angrily. "I don't need you telling me what to do. I've got enough
on my mind as it is."

"Humpf!" she went on, "I've had to listen to
old Dock Wainwright all day long. Marguerite de la Rochelle and her
nasty-mouthed cousin, Jamie de Biron, want their money back. Plus a
half dozen other clients. And I mean they want it
now
. No
wonder you're like a damn cat on a hot tin roof. I am, too."

Teddy looked at her furiously.

"I'm telling you, Teddy," she exclaimed,
shaking a tangerine fingernail at him. "You're in trouble this
time. The brokers are climbing out of the woodwork, calling by the
bushel load. Wanting
their
money. Something to do with your
margins, little buddy. Like maybe something to do with all that
trading you did on credit and now they want their money. All that
money you've gone and lost!"