The Girl Next Door (30 page)

“Reupholstered,” said Patrick. “So that takes it out of the five-figure range.”

“Exactly,” said Lindsay.

“Excuse me,” said Nina.

Lindsay shrieked and Patrick looked up, glaring. “Nina,” he said. “For Christ’s sake.
You scared us. What are you doing here? Why did you sneak up on us like that?”

Nina stared at the two of them, dressed in sneakers and filthy clothes. Lindsay had
her hair knotted up in a scarf. “I’m sorry,” Nina mumbled. “I didn’t …”

“Let’s lower this,” said Patrick. Lindsay nodded, and the two of them replaced the
settee on the jewel-toned oriental rug.

“I’m going to get started in the dining room,” Lindsay said to Patrick. “I want you
to get to work on those Japanese porcelains. We’ll go over it when you’re done.”

“Okay,” he said.

Lindsay edged by Nina and exited through the library doorway. “Always nice to see
you, Nina.”

Patrick indicated a tapestry-covered chair. Nina took the seat. Patrick sat down on
the edge of the leather sofa.

“Patrick, what’s going on here?”

He folded his hands together and sighed. “I could lie,” he said, “but I guess I may
as well tell you. My mind is pretty well made up. Although I’m going to catch hell
about it from all directions …”

“Patrick …” Nina said sharply.

Patrick frowned. “All right. Here’s the short version. I’m quitting my job, and I’m
going to buy Lindsay’s business.”

“This is about the business?” Nina said.

Patrick nodded. “That’s what I was doing the other night in the office when you came
by. Going over the books. She’s got a
lot of stock and overhead, but there are people with money around here who are ready
to buy. Lindsay and Arne are getting married and they’re going to move back to Europe.”

Nina felt stunned at how completely she had misread the situation. “Arne? The salesman
in the store?”

Patrick nodded. “Yeah. I think he’s a little … flaky, but hey, who am I to talk? Anyway,
it seemed like a perfect opportunity. I just … I don’t get any satisfaction anymore
out of what I’m doing. I mean, we have money, and everything money can buy, but the
only time I’m really happy is when I’m doing this—digging around old estates, going
to auctions, hunting through old books to find obscure paintings. I thought I would
be satisfied when I finished my house, but I found myself hating work and wishing
I could start all over again. And, I don’t know, maybe it’s because both our parents
are dead at such an early age, but I keep thinking that life is too short. You have
to do the thing you love, even if it means you don’t have all the luxuries another
kind of work can bring. Well, you know. You do what you love to do …”

Nina shook her head. “Patrick, I’m … I don’t know what to say. Does Gemma know about
this?”

Patrick made a sour face. “No. And she’s not going to like it. We’re not going to
have the kind of money she’s used to …”

“Oh, come on, Patrick. Gemma’s not exactly materialistic,” Nina reminded him.

“No, but things are gonna be tight for a while. She may have to find herself a job
where she can make some money,” he said.

“I guess she can always go back to the university,” said Nina.

Patrick looked at Nina with an incredulous expression on his face. “Uh, no, I don’t
think so.”

“Sure. They’ll take her back. She can work on her mother’s book on weekends or evenings.”

“She didn’t tell you, did she?” Patrick asked. He shook his head. “She asked me not
to. She said she was going to. I should have known.”

“Tell me what?” Nina asked.

Patrick shook his head. “Nina, she didn’t resign to work on any book. She was fired.
She was fired for falsifying results in the research lab for a paper she prepared
for publication.”

Nina stared at him. “Gemma?”

Patrick sighed. “Don’t feel bad. She didn’t tell
me
about it for six months. She pretended she was going to work.”

“You’re kidding,” said Nina.

“I wish I were. Don’t look so surprised. This is vintage Gemma. I’ve gotten used to
it over the years. Anyway, I’m not all that concerned with what she thinks about my
job change. She’ll have to live with it. And Lindsay’s been helping me with the things
I don’t know too much about. That’s why I’m here. She thought it would be a good opportunity
for me to price some things I wasn’t too familiar with—chinoiserie, American antiques—all
that. So, now that you know, what do you think?”

Nina felt like her head was spinning. “I think … if that’s what you want to do, you
should go for it.”

Patrick smiled broadly, and Nina realized it had been a long time since she saw her
brother smile that way. “Thanks,” he said. “That means a lot to me. I doubt my wife
will agree.” He shrugged. “But I don’t care anymore. It’s my life.” Then he looked
at Nina curiously. “By the way, how did you find me?”

Nina shook her head. “I … I … just took a lucky guess. I wanted to tell you about
Jimmy.”

Patrick rolled his eyes. “Is he drunk? He was drunk last night, you know. I had to
go pick him up at a bar. And before you ask, yes, he told me all about him and Calvin
robbing the house the night Mom died. I thought about punching his lights out but
he was too drunk to even feel it.”

“Patrick,” Nina interrupted him. “Jimmy’s in the hospital. A drug overdose. He’s in
a coma.”

“Oh my God,” said Patrick.

“Gemma’s been trying to call you.”

Patrick grimaced. “Shit. I was ignoring the messages. I knew I’d be late with all
this. Shit. We have to get to the hospital. Where is he?”

“Shore Medical. I’m on my way down there again. He was with Calvin when it happened.”

“Surprise, surprise,” said Patrick disgustedly. “Nina, will you take me with you?
I don’t have my car. Some guy at the bar was hocking me about how ragged it was running.
So I took it to the garage after I dropped Jimmy off this morning, and I grabbed the
bus into the city.”

Nina’s heart suddenly felt positively light. He didn’t even have the Jaguar. Her suspicions
of Patrick were completely off base. “So it wasn’t your car there,” she said.

“Where?” he asked.

“Never mind. Come on. We better go.”

“All right. Let me clean up. My business clothes are in the powder room under the
stairs. I’ll tell Lindsay what’s going on and meet you outside.”

Nina nodded and watched him go, calling out to Lindsay that he had to leave. Nina
could not remember the last time she had felt so relieved. Hoisting her leather satchel
on her shoulder, she walked out of the library toward the entrance of the house. As
she passed through the dining room, Lindsay set down a silver candlestick she was
examining and looked over at Nina. “Will he be coming back?”

“Not tonight,” said Nina. “Our brother—well, you know Jimmy—he’s in the hospital.
He’s in a coma.”

“That’s awful.” said Lindsay. “What happened?”

Nina felt an irrational desire to protect Jimmy, even from the consequences of his
own stupidity. “It was an accident,” she said.

“Nina, where are you?” Patrick demanded from the hallway. “Let’s go.”

W
HILE
Nina drove, Patrick adjusted the knot in his tie and tried to reach his wife on the
telephone. There was no answer at the house or on the cell phone. “Where is she?”
he said irritably.

“She may have gone down to see Jimmy. She was very worried about him,” said Nina loyally.
She was admittedly surprised at the news about Gemma’s being fired from her job, but
everybody knew that the academic world was a high-pressure, results-oriented environment.
Nina was willing to give her sister-in-law the benefit of the doubt, even if her husband
wasn’t.

“She was worried. Right,” Patrick scoffed.

“Come on, Patrick. Gemma’s been under a lot of stress lately. In addition to everything
else, I think she’s been a little anxious about your relationship with Lindsay. I
mean, I know I was suspicious. I thought you might be … messing around with her. It
was a natural assumption, given your history with Lindsay.”

Patrick shrugged. “Well, I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t cross my mind. Lindsay’s
a beautiful woman. But she’s taken.”

“And so are you,” Nina reminded him.

“Right,” Patrick said glumly. He peered out the car window at the darkened street.
“Hey, Nina, if you don’t mind, can you swing by the garage?” said Patrick. “If my
car’s done I can pick it up. It’ll be closed by the time we get back, and with all
that’s going on, I may need it tomorrow.”

“Where is it?” she asked distractedly. “Whitey’s?”

Patrick nodded and Nina made a left turn in the direction of the garage they had used
for service for as long as she could remember.

“Make it quick,” said Nina. “We have to get to Jimmy.”

“That fucking Calvin Mears,” said Patrick. “When I get my hands on him …”

“Oh, I guess I didn’t tell you. Somebody beat you to it,” said Nina. “He’s dead. Someone
shot them in the motel room where they were partying …”

“Shot them? Why? Jimmy, too?”

“I don’t know why. But no. Not Jimmy. He’d already overdosed. They shot Mears and
some other guy who was there. A Puerto Rican guy.”

“Jesus Christ. Jimmy can pick ’em, can’t he? Here, turn here. We can go around Whitey’s
the back way.”

Nina followed his instructions and pulled up by the lighted pumps in front of the
garage. The garage doors were closed and dark. “Even if it’s ready,” she said, “you
may not be able to get it.”

“Don’t worry,” said Patrick. “I know the kid at the pumps. He’ll give it to me. I’ll
be right back. Wait for me.”

Nina nodded as Patrick jumped out of the car. She watched her brother go up and start
talking to the young guy in the lighted booth between the gas pumps. Patrick and the
attendant
had a brief conversation and then Patrick headed back to the Volvo. The kid picked
up the magazine he had been perusing and resumed reading. The kid won’t give him the
car, Nina thought. He’ll probably have to come back in the morning.

Patrick opened the door of the Volvo and slid into the passenger seat.

“What happened? It’s not ready or he can’t give it to you?” Nina asked.

“Neither,” said Patrick. “They fixed it first thing this morning. Brought it back
to the house. Look, it’s getting late. Why don’t I just ride with you? You don’t mind,
do you?”

Nina was staring blankly through the windshield.

“Nina?” he said.

Nina shook her head. “No. No, of course not.”

The drive to the hospital only took half an hour, and Nina drove there without any
wrong turns or mishaps, but when she pulled into the well-lit parking lot and turned
off the engine, she could not remember having made the trip. Her mind had spun, turning
over and over the events of the day. When she told Gemma about the Jag being seen
at the motel where the shooting occurred, Gemma acted indignant. How dare Nina accuse
Patrick? But Gemma knew all along that Patrick didn’t have the Jag. That it was home.
In their garage.

“Nina,” said Patrick. “Are you in there?”

Nina started, and looked at him. “What? Yes.”

“You didn’t say a word the whole way down here.”

Nina turned and looked at him. “Patrick, does Gemma ever drive the Jag?”

“Sure,” he said. “Though I don’t give her a lot of opportunities. Why?” He opened
the car door and started to get out.

Nina got out of the car, closing the door behind her and locking it. “She never told
me that you didn’t have the Jag today. That it was at your house.”

“Why would she tell you that?” he asked.

“Maybe the garage guys just left it and she didn’t know,” Nina mused aloud.

“Nobody just leaves a Jag,” Patrick scoffed. “That’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.
Somebody has to sign for it. Do you know Jimmy’s room number?”

Nina shook her head. “Um … He was in ICU. Let’s check there first.”

“Fine,” said Patrick. He took the lead, opening the hospital doors for her and checking
with Patient Information. They still had Jimmy listed in ICU, and the woman at the
desk gave Patrick directions through the hospital to the Intensive Care Unit. Nina
trailed after her brother, grateful that he was taking charge.

Patrick was already talking to a nurse at the ICU nurses’ station. Nina thought about
Jimmy, who had been in the motel room but hadn’t been shot. Patrick came up to her
and shook her by the upper arm.

“Hey, I think this is good news. They moved him to a private room.”

Nina blinked at him. “They did?”

“Yeah. Here’s the number. We have to walk back around to the elevators.”

“Okay,” said Nina. “You lead the way.”

Patrick did so, impatiently pushing the elevator button a half dozen times before
they heard the ping that meant it was arriving on their floor. They stepped in and
rode up to Jimmy’s new floor, then walked down the hallway, checking over the doors
for his room number.

“This is it,” said Patrick.

While Nina would have peered inside first, Patrick strode in. Nina followed him and
saw Rose and George Connelly, sitting, talking quietly at the foot of Jimmy’s bed.
They both
looked up and then rose to greet Nina and her brother. Brief hugs were exchanged,
and then Nina and Patrick looked toward the bed. Nina felt a sudden letdown to see
that Jimmy looked exactly as he had when she’d left him earlier in the afternoon.

Patrick grimaced at the sight of his brother. “Oh my God,” he said. “James.”

Rose got up and joined them, looking at the young man in the bed. “The doctor was
just in and we talked to him. He said there’s three possibilities. If Jimmy comes
out of the coma, he may recover. Or he could just slip away from us.”

“What’s the third possibility?” Nina asked.

Rose reached out and touched Jimmy’s hand, avoiding the part that was black and blue
where the IV needle was taped. “He could stay like this. Possibly for a very long
time.”

Patrick shook his head. “Oh my God,” he said. “Jimmy, you idiot.” But when Nina glanced
at him she saw tears in his eyes.