Hidden Hearts (23 page)

The desk clerk waved at her.
“Hey, hey, girl.
The cavalry has arrived. You saved her bacon.”

Siobhan nodded at the large Hispanic woman.  “It’s good to know someone with a night job. Is she here? I’ll feel better once it’s no longer in my possession.”

The woman nodded as she picked up the phone. “Yeah, go on back. She should be finishing rounds.”

The double doors flew open and they headed into triage. Medical personnel raced in all directions, carrying charts and supplies or pushing gurneys. They spotted Maya surrounded by several young nurses who wrote furiously in their notebooks. She was discussing the diagnosis of a patient and as each one made an effort to impress her, she either pointedly disagreed or gave a quick nod before asking the next question. When she saw CC and Siobhan, she excused herself.

She kissed Siobhan on the cheek and took the bag. “I owe you.”

“As usual.”

Maya turned and gave CC an unexpected hug. “You’re looking a hundred times better. How’s the ankle?”

“Great, but I think I’ll stay away from heels for a few days.”

“Probably a good idea.”
She looked at her with wise eyes, and again she had the feeling that she’d seen her face before.

Maya kissed Siobhan again and returned to work. As they made their way out of the hospital, CC couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she knew her.

“Has she always worked here?”

“For a long time but I think that’s about to change.”

“Why?”

“Well, if you can believe it, she would prefer to work in a clinic. These patients aren’t needy enough. Many of them are getting help from the system, but not only is she very tired of the bureaucracy, she knows many families don’t qualify. Those are the people she wants to help.”

“That’s very noble given the demand for nurses.”

She nodded and maneuvered out of the parking lot.
“Absolutely.
She turned down an opportunity to do research at Johns Hopkins and a chance to be a surgical nurse at Sloan-Kettering.
All for this.
But I think the reason she wants to leave is personal.”

“Why?”

“Her lover is the hospital’s CFO. She’s married, and Maya has finally realized she’ll never leave her husband.”

She groaned. “I hate those stories.”

Suddenly Siobhan’s cell phone barked. “Hi Lynette,” she cooed. “How are you, love?”

All she could hear was a high-pitched squeak on the other end. CC checked her own phone and answered her e-mail, much of which was from Blanca who had questions about various cases. Clearly she would contact her endlessly as punishment for missing work.

“Are you serious? Lynette! Fine, we’ll be there in a few minutes.” She hung a quick right onto Central Avenue and explained. “That was Lynette. Charlie Parker ate something and now he’s throwing up. She’s alone at the store and needs help. So how are you at cashiering?”

“Who’s Charlie Parker? I mean, I
know
who the real Charlie Parker is…”

“One of the mutts.
Sorry, I didn’t explain that very well. All of her canine friends are named after famous musicians. There’s Charlie Parker, Muddy Waters, Janis Joplin, Chrissy Hynde, Ella Fitzgerald, Aretha—that’s just Aretha—and in my honor, Turlough O’Carolyn.”

“Who’s that?”

“He was an influential Irish harpist who lived in the sixteen hundreds. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of him,” she said sarcastically.

“Sorry. I think the harp is beautiful, though. And what an
honor to have a dog named after you. What kind of dog is it?”

“Well, it’s hard to tell. You may not have noticed last night since you were in a drug-induced stupor, but all of Lynette’s dogs are rescues. She picks the homeliest dogs that are just a few hours away from the needle and adopts them.”

“Then I’m surprised she only has seven.”

“That’s because we don’t let her bring any more of them home. Lynette may love dogs, but Viv has a soft spot for feral cats. One afternoon we found the canines and the felines facing off in the front yard. It looked like the animal version of
West Side Story
. After we separated them, we told Lynette she had to find other people to take the dogs. She’s a one-woman adoption center who’s probably saved a few hundred animals. She’s got a website, and she puts up flyers in her store. She does a lot.”

Siobhan pulled into a driveway and parked behind a small strip mall. Two of the four shops were boarded up but the parking lot was half full, an indication that Central Music and Valley Vinyl were thriving. CC recognized the Smartcar from the enclave and assumed it was Lynette’s.

A small patio faced the parking lot; huge plants and misters kept the June heat at bay and the entire side wall was plastered with flyers of lost cats and dogs. A hairy brown blob that looked like a cross between an Irish setter and a pug bounded through an open door, clearly excited to see Siobhan. The short, fur-covered mop wiggled and she laughed.

CC was grinning. “I hope Lynette puts her dogs on YouTube. People would crack up.”

Siobhan leaned down and petted him. “She does. She is one of the most socially connected people you’ll meet. This is Janis Joplin.”

CC found the fur to be unexpectedly soft. “You’re adorable.”

“They’re
all
adorable in their own way.”

Punk music echoed throughout the store, which was incredibly bright and covered in aluminum siding that was hidden by dozens of concert posters for popular bands like the Ramones and the Pretenders, as well as groups CC had never heard of. Rows of album racks took up the floor space and a Phono Bar lined the west wall. Customers could sit on stools, put on some headphones and listen to the albums. Several signs warned them to be careful with the LPs and to ask for assistance as needed. She shivered, realizing the Phoenix heat was a bitter enemy to the vinyl records.

“Her AC bill must be outrageous,” she said to Siobhan.

“She’s got some really good insulation and the aluminum helps.”

They found her in a raised bandstand that served as the checkout and customer service area. A collage of old concert tickets from venues all across the country sat beneath the Plexiglas countertop. A few patrons waited for Lynette to scan their purchases with a hand-held computer that CC guessed was connected to the nearby MacBook with its giant monitor. The advanced technology struck her as odd since the store sold outdated LPs. She’d expected an old-fashioned register and a Cash
Only
sign.

Lynette’s outfit was as eclectic as the shop. She wore a short leather skirt, a Rush concert T-shirt and Mickey Mouse ears. When the last customer took his receipt, she disappeared into a back room and returned with her purse, cradling a hairy black dog. She seemed distraught as she stroked his head. “Charlie’s not doing so
good
. I promise I’ll be right back. I just need to drop him off with Dr. Casey.” She turned to Siobhan. “Can you mind the store since you know what to do?”

She sighed.
“Of course.”
She turned to CC and murmured, “My advice is
hang
on to the grab bar above the door.”

“I love you,” Lynette said breathily.

Siobhan raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

She blew her a kiss and looked at CC expectantly. “Can you come with me and hold him on your lap?”

She nodded and followed her out to the tiny Smartcar.

“Do all of your dogs fit in here?”

“Not all at once. Usually I only bring three or four with me to work so we’re nice and cozy.”

She had never ridden in a Smartcar and was surprised that she didn’t feel claustrophobic, not even with Charlie Parker on her lap.

“How was your night with Penn?” Lynette asked as she whipped around a corner.

She immediately clenched the grab bar. “Uh, fine.”

Lynette scowled. “Damn it.
Fine
means that she didn’t make a move on you doesn’t it?”

“I was under the influence of medication and alcohol.”

“Hmph.
Well, that might be a
good
excuse, but I still think it’s an excuse.” She glanced at CC who hoped her face wasn’t crimson. “She likes you. I can tell.”

“What’s her story?” CC asked, hoping Lynette would shed more light on Penn’s obvious gun-shy ways.

“Well, I know there was a really bad breakup. Her ex was a former client who she’d met while she worked in this big law firm in California. The woman was accused of embezzling money from her dot-com company. Penn was the only one who believed her and fought to take the case. So she gets her off, they move in together, and then she rips off Penn for everything she’s got, dumps her for someone else and runs off to live in the Caymans on Penn’s money
and
the money she really
had
stolen!”

“You’re kidding?”

“Nope.
Penn was crushed. She swore off women.”

“So you’ve never seen her with a girlfriend?”

She shook her head. “Maybe you could change that.”

She shifted slightly in the tiny seat. When she looked out the window and stared at the sidewalk next to her, she felt as though she
were
on a kiddie ride at a fair and the little car was tied to a track.

“New topic.
You pick.”

“I like your store. Do you get a lot of business?”

“You’d be surprised. A lot of people still like records. They’re happy iPods came along, but they like the sound of the old records, too. It’s that unwillingness to give up some of the best things from the past, like cover art. Album covers are so cool, and there just isn’t the same level of attention paid to a CD cover. It’s a quarter of the size and people don’t even buy CDs anymore. They just want the hit songs. Back in the sixties and seventies album art was almost as important to sales as the artist himself. Tons of money went into deciding what graced the cover.”

She gripped the grab bar tighter. Lynette was barely paying attention to the road and constantly jamming on her brakes just seconds before the Smartcar careened into someone’s bumper.

“What do you think of the enclave?” Lynette asked.

“It seems like a wonderful place to live.”

“It is. We’re a family.”

She whipped back and forth between two lanes, moving ahead of people until she had to stop at a red light.

“How long have you lived there?”

“Hmm.
I guess Viv took me in about two years ago.”

She chuckled. “You mean like you take in the dogs?”

“Yeah, that’s about right. She chose all of us.”

The little car whirred as it picked up speed again, and CC imagined twenty rubber bands turning frantically under the hood.

“How does one get chosen to be a tenant at the enclave?”

“Oh, we’re not tenants. We don’t pay any rent.”

“You don’t? You live there for free?”

“Uh-huh. Viv is the coolest. She doesn’t need the money, so she’s never charged us.”

“That’s incredibly generous of her, but why would she do that? Your rents could pay for her property taxes or upgrades on the house—”

“I know,” she said. “We’ve tried to tell her that, but she won’t take our cash. I guess it’s been like that for a few decades. She just started taking in women who needed a place to live. Some stayed for a few months and some for several years. In fact Viv’s partner was one of the first members of the enclave.”

“Partner?
What happened with her?”

Lynette’s beaming smile broke. “She passed away five years ago from cancer. I never met her, but I heard she was amazing.” She whipped between two lanes and said, “So, women come and go, and we just pay for the utilities and do a lot of the maintenance too. Penn’s pretty handy, in case you’re wondering,” she added with a wink.

CC knew she was blushing. Every time someone mentioned Penn’s name it affected her physically and chemically. She needed to stay focused. Lynette was sharing information that might be important to the case with Seth Rubenstein.