Organized to Death (13 page)

“Oh, there’s Hank,” Brenda said. They waited while he approached. Tina felt as if they all held their breath.

Someone murmured “Hank the Hunk,” but Tina couldn’t tell who.

He said hello to everyone. Tina could feel the electricity he generated among them all. She felt her own heartbeat quicken. Something in his expression held her while the other three women left, chattering.

“You have a minute?” he asked.

“Of course.”

He gestured to the table and they sat down. The waitress came quickly and asked if they wanted anything. Hank ordered a Scotch. The waitress cleared the table then left to place his order at the bar.

Hank wouldn’t meet Tina’s eyes, and he looked more uncomfortable than she’d ever seen him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, putting her hand over his on the table.

He sighed and grasped her hand. “It’s Mitzi. I’m worried about her.”

Ever since Tina could remember, Hank and his sister had called their mother by her first name. And it had seemed to her, growing up, that they looked after Mitzi more than she looked after them, except for her constant harping on Sally to take care of herself. Mitzi kept a beautiful home, but Sally and Hank seemed to cater to her and worry about her more than Tina’s other friends did their own mothers. Tina could remember Hank so clearly as a child. Self-contained but sometimes fierce, no one ever challenged him, picked a fight with him. He looked not much different in the face than he had then. Now, his body was another matter.

Tina looked into his eyes. They looked sad, old. The urge to hold him overwhelmed her. He had no father, his sister had died in her twenties, and his mother had something wrong with her that Tina had hesitated to name until she’d seen her in the store. Her mind acknowledged Mitzi was clinically depressed, but her heart didn’t want to hear it.

“You talked to her yesterday, in the shop. What did she say to you?”

“She seemed fine, Hank. I told her about starting my business and asked her if my mother had mentioned it. She said yes, the other night, playing cards. I asked if that was going to be a regular thing, and she got a bit vague, said something about she imagined so, and then you showed up.”

“Yes. You saw how she was dressed?”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t get her to keep her hands clean.” His voice was harsh, anguished.

“Oh, Hank.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry. Is she seeing someone—a therapist?”

He laughed, but not because he was amused. “Several, over the years.”

“She got this way after Sally died?” Tina asked tentatively.

“She got worse after Sally died, but then within a year she lost my father. She was always… fragile. I think you know that.”

Tina nodded. “What can I do to help?”

“I don’t know. I’ve thought of asking you to visit her, maybe once a week. But I don’t know if that would make her feel better or worse.”

“I’d be happy to do that! We could try it and then you can decide if she’s doing better after seeing me.”

“Would you?” He looked into her eyes as if to see if she was just humoring him. “More as a friend than a therapist?”

“Yes, Hank. I would. I’ve always been fond of Mitzi.”

“I was thinking of bringing you by a few times, and sometimes you could go alone—maybe she’d open up to you alone.”

Tina’s chest hurt. She coughed, but it didn’t ease it. “I’m working today,” she said, “but we could do it this evening or tomorrow, since it’s Sunday.”

He smiled for the first time since he’d come into the restaurant. “How come I knew you’d help?”

“Because I’m a pushover?”

“Yeah, there’s that. In this case, I’m glad.”

“So am I.” She thought she’d drown in his eyes.

The waitress brought his drink, lingering to ask if they needed anything else. She also seemed to have trouble taking her eyes off Hank.

When she finally left, Hank took a grateful sip of his Scotch, then made an obvious effort to relax.

“So, tell me about work,” he said. “You like it so far?”

“Oh, yes. Everyone has been so nice. I find Dr. Ted a bit odd … “

Hank narrowed his eyes. “In what way?”

“Can’t put my finger on it. He’s watchful, not too forthcoming about his past. Not like anyone I’ve ever met before. I admit, he makes me a bit uneasy.”

“How?” Hank’s question sounded like a gunshot.

Tina shrugged and looked away. “I don’t know, Hank. I think he’s attracted to me, but it doesn’t feel good for some reason, like it usually does when you know someone likes you.”

“You have good instincts, Tina. Pay attention to them. If this guy makes you uneasy, keep your distance.”

“Okay,” Tina said, her voice small. She wished she hadn’t brought it up. With all her training, she couldn’t figure Ted out. She thought he was a liar, but what else?

Again, Hank made a visible effort to relax. “Don’t mind me. I’m a bit wound up about my mother, and it’s probably making me jittery about everything else.” He finished his drink and stood up. “I’ll call you tonight to set up a time to visit Mitzi tomorrow.”

Tina stood, too, avoiding his eyes. She couldn’t ever remember a time when Hank had apologized to her about being wound up. She couldn’t remember him ever being so uptight before. Intense, yes, but not physically tense.

“It’s okay. I’ll be glad to help with your mother if I can.”

Hank threw a bill on the table, and they walked outside onto Bellevue Avenue. He had parked right in front of the restaurant. Tina never could figure out how he always seemed to find a parking space so close to where he was going. “Where are you parked?” he asked.

“Across the street, way down by the other shops.”

“I’ll drive you over. Hop in.”

Tina smiled and climbed into his Jaguar. It smelled of leather and his aftershave—bay rum, she thought. “What kind of aftershave do you use?” she asked impulsively while buckling up.

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Why do you ask?”

“So I can give you some for Christmas. No, really, I’m just curious. Whatever it is, I like it.”

“I’m glad. It’s Lucky Tiger.”

He maneuvered around traffic and took Tina to her car. “Thanks,” she said. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He looked startled and she climbed out of the car, laughing. “Bye.”

“Goodbye, Tina. I’ll call you.”

She nodded and walked to her VW, noticing he waited until she was inside and buckled up.

When she arrived at Dr. Ted’s place, she took a couple of cardboard boxes from her trunk. As she entered his office, she realized she’d been gone almost two hours. He greeted her curtly, and she wondered if he was mad at her for taking so long.

“I’m sorry I took such a long lunch break,” she said, putting her coat and purse on the chair again. “An old friend came into the restaurant as I was leaving, and we chatted for a while.”

“It’s okay,” he mumbled, not looking at her.

“Well. Let’s tackle those bookshelves, shall we? I brought some boxes for those books you decided to get rid of or move elsewhere.” Tina began unfolding one of the flat boxes and making it into a cube.

“That’s good.”

“Okay. Let’s mark one for moving somewhere else, and one for what, charity? Or would you prefer to try selling them?”

“I think there might be a few that might be valuable, but not many. The rest we can give away. I’ve been thinking about moving a lot of them upstairs, though—putting them into the empty bookshelves up there.”

“Okay. We may need more boxes, but I keep extras in my trunk, so that’s not a problem. We can get more when we hit the office supply store. As we go, we’ll also try to put them in some kind of order. The best thing to do is clear a couple of shelves, then begin putting books back there, but keeping them together by subject or author—whatever way you’d find them easiest. Which ones would you refer to the most?”

“The PDR—
Physician’s Desk Reference
—to look up drug dosages and possible side effects. I also have a few volumes about diagnosing obscure diseases. And I’ll probably think of others as we go through them.”

“Okay. Start with the shelf behind you. Since your desk is nice and clear, put anything you want to keep on it. Put the others in the appropriate box.”

Ted soon had both boxes full and his desk piled with books.

“I’d better get some more boxes,” Tina said. “You can take the one upstairs of those you want to keep to get it out of the way.”

Tina figured they’d need about eight or ten more boxes since Ted seemed to be getting rid of most of the books. She wondered what to advise him to do about all the empty shelves it looked like he was going to end up with. Sort of a reverse of decluttering. She smiled as she thought of cluttering up the shelves. Perhaps they could transfer some of Rachel’s stuff to Ted’s shelves.

Tina was fixing another box, and Ted was clearing another shelf when Dr. Stevenson appeared in the office doorway.

The old doctor looked ill. Haggard. His shoulders sloped more than Tina remembered, and there were new lines on his forehead. He’d lost weight, as well.

He stood there a moment, a look of confusion on his face. “What are you doing?” he asked.

Ted took a step toward him, then stopped, his arms hanging limply at his sides, consternation making him frown.

“Just straightening up a bit,” he finally said. “How are you?”

Dr. Stevenson blinked a few times as if to clear his vision. “Ted,” he said, obviously remembering. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to intrude. Just came to … “

“Visit,” Ted said. “Come on in.” He swept some books off a chair. “Have a seat.”

“No, no, I… Tina?”

“Yes, Dr. Stevenson. Are you all right?”

The old doctor laughed. “All right? Am I all right? No, no, can’t say that I am. Sorry to have bothered you. Goodbye, Tina.” He gave Ted a long look. “Goodbye, son.”

He turned and left, leaving Tina and Ted avoiding each other’s eyes. Questions rushed through Tina’s mind. Obviously, Dr. Stevenson was ill, but with what? And he’d called Ted “son.” Just a figure of speech, or something else? Her eyes strayed to the Harvard diploma on the wall. It felt as if her world had shifted just a bit. The old family doctor, confused, ill. And the new doctor, a strange enigma. One who made her so uneasy she wasn’t going to ask him any questions right now.

Finally, because Dr. Ted stood frozen in place, Tina said, “Well. Shall we get back to work?”

“Yes.” Ted seemed to give himself a mental shake. “You think we can finish this up by dinnertime?”

“Sure,” Tina said, vowing that they would. She wanted to get out of this office, this building, and far away from the strange Dr. Ted.

Hank called the next morning while Tina was having breakfast. They arranged for him to pick her up at three to go see Mitzi.

Tina dressed up for church. Many of the younger set didn’t anymore, but she liked doing it, so she indulged herself. Emmanuel Episcopal Church was almost half full, she was glad to see. They seemed to be adding new members lately. The service was beautiful, as always, and it soothed her. She sat alone, which she really preferred. Uncle Bob couldn’t hear and had told Tina once that he’d made a deal with God. If God restored his hearing, he’d go back to church. Laura had stopped going right after Sally, Hank’s sister, died.

Sometimes Brandon or Leslie joined her, but not today. Hank always came for the Christmas service, and sometimes Easter, but that was it for him. Mitzi sometimes showed up, but today Tina didn’t see her.

After the service, she drove home in the chilly weather. She changed quickly into gray slacks and a dark green sweater appropriate for a visit to Hank’s mother. Then she made a sandwich to eat alone in the kitchen while reading the opinion section of the
Providence Journal
.

Upstairs again, she heard the doorbell ring. She was going through her jewelry and deciding what to get rid of. Her box was too full, and it annoyed her to wade through everything to find her few favorite pieces. The trouble was, she loved jewelry and anytime something caught her eye, she usually bought it. Some she’d never worn. This was her own particular brand of clutter she seemed to be able to do nothing about.

She walked to the top of the stairs and heard Uncle Bob murmur something, then another, louder voice, demand, “Where is she?”

“Who is it?” Tina asked, as she went down the stairs.

Uncle Bob didn’t hear her behind him, so he didn’t turn. But the other voice said, “There you are. I need to talk to you.”

Tina was shocked to see Charles, Crystal’s husband, standing in the foyer. His usually neat hair was in disarray, his eyes bleary but with a wild glint in them. He wore a tattered T-shirt he must have slept in, faded jeans, and scuffed boating shoes with no socks. And no coat. Tina shivered. The little thermometer on her bedroom window registered forty-five degrees.

Tina put her hand on Uncle Bob’s arm, and without looking at her, he said, “You know this man?”

Tina got into Uncle Bob’s line of sight and nodded. “He’s Crystal’s husband, Charles.”

“Oh.” Uncle Bob’s shoulder relaxed. But then he tensed again, and Tina could imagine the thoughts running through his mind. Maybe Charles had murdered Crystal. Uncle Bob put his hand on Princess’s shoulder.

“I have to talk to you, Tina. I’m going crazy.”

“Okay. Let’s go into the living room.”

Uncle Bob and Princess followed them, and without a word, Uncle Bob sat on the couch. Princess remained standing, alert. Tina didn’t blame her. The dog didn’t know Charles, and he was giving out excited vibes.

Charles looked around as if he’d never seen furniture before and didn’t know what to do.

“Have a seat.” Tina gestured to one of the wing chairs facing the couch. She sat in its twin.

Charles sat on the edge of his, his eyes boring into Tina’s. “The police think
I
killed Crystal! I’ve got to find out myself who did it if they’re not going to try.” He ran his hand through his hair, and Tina now knew why it was in such a mess.

“What can I tell you? Rachel and I found her, but I don’t know anything.”

“I don’t know!” His voice rose, and he pounded the chair arms with his fists.