A Quarter for a Kiss (6 page)

I glanced at the clock and wondered how much longer I would be here before Jodi came to relieve me. I didn’t mind sitting and waiting for the next hour’s visit, but I thought my energies might be better spent back at the house, trying to find the notes Eli had said only I would be able to locate—
if
the person or people who trashed the house hadn’t found them already.

Why would I know where Eli kept his notes?

I tried to think of all of our recent conversations, if he had told me anything during one of our phone calls that might have tipped me off. Sadly, I had to admit that just about the only time I talked to Eli anymore was when I needed his help on a complicated case. Why didn’t I ever call to ask about him and how he was doing? Why didn’t I ever call just to say hello?

Taking a deep breath, I decided to put off the guilt trip until later. For now, I had to figure this out.

Notes
. Where had Eli stashed his notes? And why did he think I would know where that place would be?

There were really only two possibilities: Either he had told me recently and I just wasn’t paying attention, or he was using a hiding place he had used in the past that only I would know about and would be able to figure out. Since I couldn’t recall any conversation between the two of us about notes or a case within the last few years, I decided to concentrate on the latter.

Think, Callie
.

Remembering back to the days when we had worked together, I closed my eyes and tried to picture Eli with his notes. He always kept a running file of every case, and that file was usually on his person when the case was active. When he left the office, he carried the file in an old brown satchel.

When he wasn’t working a case, perhaps taking a weekend off, he would leave the file at the office. Depending on the security level of the case involved, that meant either putting the file in his top desk drawer or locking it away in the office safe.

But Eli had no office now, so there would be no desk nor any office safe. I decided to ask Stella if perhaps they had a home safe that Eli might have used, or if he still kept that old brown satchel around.

I dug through my bag for my cell phone and dialed Stella’s home phone number. Tom answered and we spoke for a moment, each of us making sure the other was okay. Then he handed the phone to Stella, who sounded distracted. I got right to the point and asked her my questions, but unfortunately she said they had no safe, no real desk other than a small rolltop where they kept stamps and envelopes, and no satchel. I said I’d like to examine the desk, if she didn’t mind, and she told me that was no problem, that Jodi should be showing up any moment to relieve me here at the hospital.

I hung up the phone and returned to my seat, desperately trying to think of other possibilities.

Over the years, I recalled, there had been a few cases where security had been especially high. At those times, Eli had stored his notes in a safety deposit box at a local bank. But that was too inconvenient for ongoing cases. That was usually for situations when he had wrapped up his notes and then simply needed to store them for a time; for example, while waiting for a case to go to trial. I wondered if perhaps that might be the situation here, though I doubted he was waiting for any kind of trial since surely he would have told Stella that.

So what did that leave? At the very least, I should call Stella back and ask her if they kept a safety deposit box at the bank. I was about to pull out my cell phone again when Jodi came strolling up the hall.

“Hey, Callie,” she said, looking even more tired than before. “How’s he doing?”

“About the same. How are things going there?”

“Not good. Most of the geezers on the lawn have gone back home, but my mom’s kind of in a frenzy. Nothing’s been taken that she can tell. Now she’s even more determined for you to find those notes. She doesn’t understand what’s going on or why someone would trash the joint if they weren’t out to steal something.”

I glanced at my watch, surprised that it was nearly time for the next hourly visit with Eli. I told Jodi I wanted to see him one more time, and then I would return to the condo. Nodding, she settled down in the waiting room, stretched out across a row of seats, and promptly fell asleep. Grateful that at least someone would be here to continue the vigil, I walked to the nurses’ desk to see if they would let me in to see him one more time.

Five

My second time at Eli’s bedside was somewhat easier than the first. The tubes and wires and machines weren’t quite as shocking to me, though it was still difficult to hold his hand and not feel him holding mine back. This time I leaned close to his ear and told him, firmly but nicely, that I needed for him to snap out of it.

“Come on, Eli,” I said, squeezing his limp hand. “It’s time to tell us what's really going on.”

A few minutes later, in the car on the way to Stella’s, I thought about the final words Eli had said on the street after he was shot and before he lost consciousness. According to Stella, he rambled on about Tom and me and someone named Nadine. Certainly, Eli and I had never discussed anyone by that name. I knew I would remember if we had.

Back at the condo, Stella had changed into her version of “regular” clothes—a bright floral shirt and lime green slacks. The fact that nothing had been stolen from her home seemed to have rattled her completely, especially since she had several valuable pieces of jewelry that could have easily been removed from the jewelry box atop the dresser but hadn’t been. As Tom walked through the house with the insurance adjuster, Stella grabbed my arm and held on tightly, jabbering almost nonstop in a nervous patter.

“Why does someone break into a home if not to steal?” she kept asking, almost pleading with me for an answer. Unfortunately, at this point, I didn’t really know. I would have thought it was simple, random vandalism if not for the fact that Eli had also been shot.

“We need to focus here, Stella,” I said, leading her to the couch and sitting down beside her. “If Eli thinks I can find his notes, then that has to be my number one priority.”

“I know, I know.”

“I’m thinking he may have stored them in a safety deposit box. That’s one of the things he used to do with sensitive material, and something he would’ve expected me to remember. As far as you know, does he have one?”

“We share a box,” she said, “but there’s not much in there. A few documents, some jewelry. That’s about it.”

“When was the last time you looked in it?”

She thought about that.

“A few weeks ago,” she answered finally. “A CD matured, and I needed the certificate.”

“Where do you keep the key?”

“I think it’s still in my purse.”

“Does Eli have his own key?”

“No,” she replied. “Why would he need one? We share.”

I shrugged, thinking it was possible that Eli had put his notes in the box for safekeeping without Stella’s knowledge.

“Do you think you could run by the bank when it opens and take another look?” I asked. “See if there’s anything in the box you don’t recognize?”

“I guess I could,” she said, on the verge of tears, “but I need to get back to the hospital. What if Eli wakes up and I’m not there?”

Tom had overheard this last exchange and stuck his head around the corner to speak to us.

“Stella, as soon as we’re finished here, I’ll drive you over to the bank and then straight from there to the hospital. We’ll get you back there as quickly as we can.”

“Okay,” she said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

“Before you go,” I said, “why don’t I make us a quick breakfast? Eggs and toast? Oatmeal?”

Tom declined, saying he’d eaten while I was at the hospital. Stella also said no, that she wasn’t hungry. I reminded her that she needed to keep up her strength for Eli’s sake, so she agreed to have a small bowl of cereal.

There was a knock on the door, and I opened it, expecting to see the cleaning service. Instead, it was a man in his mid-forties, dressed casually in shorts and a T-shirt. Stella seemed happy to see him, so I left the two of them to talk while I went into the kitchen in search of cereal. Most of it had been poured out onto the kitchen floor by the vandals, but I found a few inches left in the bottom of a box of Raisin Bran. Careful not to cut myself on the broken glass on the counter, I found two intact bowls and spoons, washed them thoroughly, and cleared a space for us at the table.

Stella joined me there a few minutes later and sat down to eat. Between bites she told me about the man who had been at the door, the son of a neighbor. He had just heard about the vandalism and had come to offer us the use of his father’s condo until the mess here had been cleaned up.

“Norman fell and broke his hip last week, so his place will be empty for a while,” Stella said. “Jim told me where he hides the spare key and said for us to feel free to use his dad’s home as much as we need to.”

“That was nice of him,” I said, pouring some cereal for myself. It wasn’t what I usually chose for breakfast, but at this point I was so hungry I was happy for anything. The night without sleep followed by a morning without food was combining to give me a killer headache.

“His unit is in the next building over,” Stella continued, gesturing to her left. “Number seventy-six. It’s a three-bedroom, so there should be room for all of us, if need be.”

“Good.”

I chewed absently, listening as she described the location of the flowerpot under which we could find the spare key. It struck me that I hadn’t even asked how the vandals had broken in here last night, and I wondered if Stella kept out a spare key as well. I asked her.

“My kids each have a key to the condo,” she said. “But, no, I’ve never put one outside like some folks do. Never saw the need.”

“What about the people who broke in and did all of this? How did they get in?”

Tom and the insurance adjuster entered the room at that moment.

“They busted through the back bedroom window,” the insurance adjuster said, his voice nasal and high. “According to the police, they used towels to muffle the sound and protect themselves from any shards of glass. The report said there were a few fibers along the sill, so at least they left some evidence.”

“Towels,” I repeated. “That means they came prepared.”

“Oh, yes,” the man said. “From what I’ve seen, this person—or people—weren’t here merely to vandalize. Seems to me they were professionals searching for something specific. They certainly knew every conceivable place to look. The damage here is quite extensive.”

He joined us at the table and finished filling out the paperwork on his clipboard, assuring Stella that she would get a check to cover the damage within ten days.

“Do you need an emergency check now,” he asked, “to cover the cleanup and get you a place to stay in the meantime?”

“Oh, no,” she said vaguely, waving away the thought. Obviously, the man wasn’t aware that Stella was wealthy and could afford to do whatever she needed to get through this crisis. Like many older folks, she lived on a shoestring, but I knew for a fact her bank accounts and other assets were quite hefty.

As they reviewed the papers and she signed on the dotted lines, I thought about the break-in and felt a surge of dismay. Had Eli been outmaneuvered by professionals? Was I chasing after something that had already been found and removed from the premises?

Suddenly, the dismay gave way to a glimmer of hope. Eli Gold was no amateur either. If he had hidden something important, I doubted anyone would be able to find it easily, even if they were pros. I think Eli realized that himself and that’s why his words to Stella were for
me
to find the notes. He knew they were hidden too well for anyone else to discover them. Wherever he had put them for safekeeping, they certainly weren’t going to turn up just by random searching.

Once the adjuster left, Tom and Stella prepared to head to the bank. I thought about going with them but decided my time would be better spent here taking one last look around. One of us needed to stay behind anyway, to let in the cleaning people when they came.

“Stella, may I ask you a question?” I said as she was stepping out the door. “Do you mind if I poke around your home myself? Is there any area you wouldn’t want me digging through?”

Stella looked back at me, her expression baffled.

“Eli and I are two old folks who play canasta and have a fondness for mocha chocolate chip ice cream. What do you think you might find, Callie? Our secret collection of nuclear weapons?”

“I just want to respect your privacy.”

“Everything I own has been dumped out onto the floor!” she cried. “I don’t have any privacy left. Help yourself.”

Six