Dead Man Docking - Mary Daheim [56]
As soon as she hung up, Judith swore. “Damn! I forgot about Mother’s check.”
Renie was staggering out of the bedroom. “I should call Bill,” she muttered, leaning on an Italianate credenza. “Later, I mean.” She focused on Judith. “What check?”
“I told you about it,” Judith said, searching her purse for aspirin. “From the movie people. I was supposed to put it in the bank for her, but I ran out of time before we left. I hope to God she hasn’t mislaid it. Again.”
“It’ll turn up,” Renie said, sinking into an armchair across from Judith. “Oscar’s another matter. I hope Bill’s been able to get him back from that nutty Lorenzo. It makes me sick to think what a maniac like that might do.”
“Oscar? Bill? Lorenzo?”
Renie shot Judith a dirty look. “Don’t be a wiseass. You know that Oscar is part of the family, and has been for almost thirty years. I’d just had the upholstery cleaner freshen him up last week. He was looking very spiffy.”
Judith decided to keep her mouth shut. It was always pointless to argue about Oscar’s place in the Jones household. Sometimes she wondered why Renie and Bill didn’t legally adopt the stuffed animal and be done with it.
Besides, she had problems of her own. Ignoring Renie, who was still moping, Judith dialed Joe’s cell phone. But all she got was a recorded message saying that the customer was unavailable and to try later. Either Joe didn’t have his phone on or he was someplace where the call couldn’t reach him. Like jail.
“The phone book,” Judith said suddenly. “We were going to check the G restaurant listings and also find Farallon’s address.”
“Oh. Right.” Renie didn’t seem interested.
Judith got out the directory, which was in the drawer of the table where the telephone was sitting along with a fax machine. “We should call Rhoda back, to acknowledge their invitation.”
Renie still evinced indifference.
“I found Farallon,” Judith said. “It’s also on Post Street, just a couple of blocks from the Fitzroy. Let me take a quick look at the G listings, especially anything with GH.”
Renie was staring off into space.
“Ghirardelli Square?” Judith murmured. “No, that’s not near Neiman Marcus…”
Renie’s words were barely audible. “If only Bill didn’t hate the telephone so much…”
Judith looked up from the Yellow Pages. “What?”
“I said,” Renie repeated, “if only Bill didn’t hate using the phone, he’d have his own cell. Then I could call him directly. Now all I can do is wait until I think he might be home. I’m sure he won’t try to call me. He might not even realize we’re still here, men being what they are.”
Regarding her cousin with a less-than-sympathetic expression, Judith uttered an impatient sigh. “Come on, coz, stop fussing about that…Oscar. You’re supposed to be helping solve a homicide.”
Renie hadn’t seemed to hear Judith. “Oscar was kidnapped once before, years ago. Bill and I were out of town, and our kids had a party. A couple of them made off with Oscar, and it took three days to get him back. Unharmed, thank God.”
Judith kept a straight face. “How could you tell?”
“Physically unharmed,” Renie said, equally serious. “Emotionally—well, it took time.”
“We’re not going to talk about this anymore, okay?” Judith said, keeping her voice calm. “You’re making me as crazy as you are.” She fixed her eyes on the restaurant listings. “Ah. Maybe I’ve found something—Grandviews Restaurant in the Grand Hyatt off Union Square. That’s close to Neiman Marcus, right?”
Renie nodded in a despondent fashion.
“Let’s go over to the hotel and see if we can find out if Dixie had lunch there,” Judith said. “It’s just across the square. But first,” she added, “I’m going to take some aspirin.”
Judith was in the bathroom when the phone rang. She heard Renie scrambling around in the sitting room, apparently diving for the receiver. By the time Judith joined her cousin, Renie was hanging up.
“Who was that?” Judith asked.
Renie looked disappointed. “I thought it might be Bill, but it wasn’t.