But I think it's fine. I'm on the alert.”
“I know, but I can hop in a cab and be over in fifteen minutes. Twenty tops, if you want to sleep. Or need a change of scenery.”
“You know what they say, Camilla. You can sleep all you want when you're dead.”
I shivered. “Try not to be dead, Merv.”
“Who was that?” Mrs. Parnell was never one to disguise her interest in the affairs of others.
“Merv. Looks like he's in love again.”
She leaped to her feet. “I approve. Let us make a toast to love!”
“Count me out. I have no desire to encourage love, Mrs. P.”
Back in my apartment, I snatched the last edible piece of cheddar from the fridge and swallowed it in two bites. I made a phone call to P. J. on general principles. This time I suggested I might have valuable tips for him. Not that I planned to let any information slip. I didn't have a twinge of guilt. He'd have done the same to me. I ditched the rest of the clothes, slipped into my old flannel housecoat and turned on the bath. I tossed in one of the fragrant bath bombs Alexa had given me for Christmas and stroked the calico cat. But first I felt the need to apologize. “Sorry I haven't had much time for you, but it's not like you don't have a loving home with Mrs. P. and the boys.” The cat's tail twitched.
Three minutes later, I sank into the warm water and sniffed watermelon-scented air. The calico paraded along the edge of the tub. I thought about Lindsay. I told myself she was well protected. The police were watching, Merv was fussing.
Before I could unkink, the pounding started. I flung my housecoat on my sudsy body and raced down the hall. A sudden looming shape took my breath away. Someone had broken into my apartment. I grabbed a dining chair and raised it to fight off the intruder. Until I recognized her.
“Mrs. Parnell,” I yelled, “what are you doing here?” She was white as the front of a windshield. “You told me you no longer had a key to this apartment. You assured me you would stop doing this. I'm entitled to privacy, and it's time you learned to respect it.”
“No choice, Ms. MacPhee. You didn't answer your phone.”
The water must have drowned the ring. “I was in the bath.”
“Nevertheless, you must hear about this. They've interrupting regular programming…”
“It's Benning, isn't it?” My knees felt deboned. I leaned over and steadied myself on Mrs. Parnell's walker.
“Yes.”
“Has he found Lindsay?”
“He slipped past the police guard and kidnapped his wife.”
“Oh, no.”
“They don't know yet where the wife is, as far as I can tell.”
“Yeah, yeah. I heard.” Merv couldn't keep the tension from his voice.
“Are the cops still around?”
“Of course they are.”
“I'm just making sure. How many?”
“Still three.”
“No one can figure out how he sneaked past the police guard to snatch his wife.”
“Holy shit. It's like the bastard can walk through walls.”
“Told you so. I'm on my way. The more people in the house, the less chance he can get Lindsay.”
I hung up and collided with Mrs. Parnell's walker.
“When do we leave?” she said.
“We do not leave at all. I leave on the double.”
“I am magnificent in an emergency. As I think you know, Ms. MacPhee.” She likes to play that card.
“True enough. But this isn't your kind of emergency, Mrs. P. It will be a long night of waiting.”
“I'm nearly seventy-eight years old. Do you think I don't know about waiting?”
“I'm sure you do.”
“These ears are sharp. I hope you don't think they're for decoration.” Mrs. Parnell's ears and the word decoration do not even belong in the same sentence.
“Absolutely not.”
“And, consider this, I have a perfectly serviceable vehicle available in our own parking garage which is more than we can say for you. Plus I have a pair of Sorel boots, lined, waterproof, never been worn, which I will give you in return for a piece of the action.”
I put up a token argument. “If he does show up, it could get dangerous. Who knows what could happen to you.”
“You forget, Ms. MacPhee, that I'm dying.”
“What?”
“Of boredom. Let's hit the road.”
Thirty minutes later, Mrs. Parnell and I pulled up outside Lindsay's place on Echo Drive. Mrs. Parnell's perfectly serviceable vehicle shuddered to a halt. The unmarked cop car still idled across the street.
By the time I had hoisted the walker from the back seat, an officer had ambled over to greet us. Nice as pie, his hand on his holster. The other officer was also out of the cruiser. Maybe they needed a stretch. Maybe they thought we looked suspicious. Maybe it had been a while since they'd seen a 1975 Ford LTD.
Mrs. Parnell clutched her two metal-pronged back-up canes. She opened her mouth to speak.
“Don't be a smartass,” I told her. “Evening,” I nodded to the cop. I recognized him from court.
He, on the other hand, did not recognize me.
It took longer to talk our way into Lindsay's town house than to cross town. In part this was because I was dressed in Mrs. Parnell's thirty-year old beaver coat with the matching hat. I looked like her evil twin, although I did think the neon yellow laces and trim on the Sorels were a nice contemporary touch. Both cops squinted at my picture ID for long enough to make a point.
I was glad of the Sorels, because we stood and waited while the officer poked through our overnight cases, sniffed Mrs. Parnell's bottle of Harvey's Bristol Cream, inspected the walker for hidden hazards, and checked out Mrs. Parnell's ID. Then he put me on the phone with my brother-in-law-to-be, Conn McCracken, to make extra sure. I even had to hand the phone to Mrs. Parnell so Conn could confirm her identity.
“Resist the urge to be cute,” I told Conn as I handed
