Lisa Scottoline - Think Twice

“Hear, hear,” Alice said, because it sounded like Bennie. She picked up both glasses and carried them to the table, making sure to give herself the one without the drug.

“Am I good or am I good?” Grady wedged two brownies out of the dish, put them on the plates, and brought them over, then they sat down.

“You are good.” Alice took a big bite of hot brownie, which was delicious. “Amazing.”

“Thank you.” Grady popped a brownie into his mouth. “Not bad. Did you burn the roof of your mouth?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Agree.” Alice set down the brownie and took a drink of milk. Got Rohypnol?

“So, brownies for dinner. Unorthodox, yet terrific.” Grady kept chewing, showing no sign of reaching for his milk.

“Very terrific.” Alice could barely stand more stupid banter. She was afraid to speak for fear of saying the wrong thing and she was fresh out of brownie conversation.

“Starting to feel better?” Grady asked. He kept not drinking his milk, and she wondered if he’d seen her slip the pill into his drink.

“Absolutely, thanks.”

“Brownies are nature’s cure-all. Your words.”

“I’m right, as usual.”

“You having ice cream?”

“Not yet.” Alice couldn’t wait any longer. “How can you eat a brownie without milk?”

“Ugh. When have you ever seen me drink a glass of milk? You know I hate it.”

Damn! “How quickly they forget, huh? What’s your name again?” Alice laughed, hiding her flub.

“Out of sight, out of mind.” Grady grinned crookedly, and Alice smiled, again. So he didn’t drink milk. Now she would have to figure out another way to drug him. She sipped her milk.

Trying to remember which drawer had the butcher knives.

Mary signed the last copy of the sales agreement, exhilarated and nervous, both at once. She was finally buying her own house, and it was a dream come true. On the downside, she didn’t know how Anthony would react and she’d never spent so much money in her life. When she saw how much of her mortgage payment went toward interest, she decided that the line between federal banking and organized crime was way too fine.

“Well done.” Janine gathered the papers into a stack. “And your check? Can’t forget that.”

“No, we can’t, can we?” Mary opened her checkbook, made out a check for the earnest money, and handed it over. “Ta-da!”

“Happy?”

“Yes. Very.” Mary couldn’t help but clap. “I bought a house! All by myself!”

“Good for you!” Janine laughed, her lipstick fresh after all these hours, though the same couldn’t be said for her linen suit. “But I have to warn you, your offer hasn’t been accepted yet and there’s still lots to do.”

“Like what?”

“We have to schedule the inspection within ten days, and there’s plenty of other details I’ll go through with you, if they accept.”

Janine stuck the check and the thick packet of agreements in a manila envelope. “I’ll be back to you as soon as I can.”

“Do you think it will be tonight?”

“It could be, and if I have an answer, I’ll call you right away. What time do you go to bed?”

“Call me anytime. I doubt I’ll sleep much, anyway.” Mary’s head was already swimming with thoughts of paint chips and swatches, rug samples and curtains. A homebody at heart, she’d dreamed of her first house like some girls dream of their wedding day. And wedding days weren’t something she wanted to think about right now.

“The seller has forty-eight hours to either accept or reject our offer.”

“Gotcha.” Mary walked the realtor to the door. “I should’ve known that, being a lawyer.”

“A partner, even?”

“Not yet, and don’t jinx me.” Mary opened her apartment door, and Janine gave her a businesslike hug.

“Good luck!”

“Thanks,” Mary said, surprised to find herself welling up.

She closed the door and stood there, savoring the moment, alone. In the movies, she would have felt bad because she didn’t have anyone to share it with, but in reality, she didn’t mind. It was her moment, only. She’d worked for this moment every day since law school, and it had finally come to pass, because she willed it so. She had changed her life with the stroke of a pen. And a very large check.

Ring! It was her cell phone, and she ran back to the kitchen, where she’d left her BlackBerry. She picked it up and checked the display. Anthony, read the screen, and Mary braced herself.

“Hello?” she said, pressing the green button.

“Hey.” Anthony sounded subdued. “Sorry I missed your call. I was at my mother’s, fixing her sink.”

Mary swallowed hard. “Sorry if I got hysterical. I needed to make a decision, and I did.”

“So?”

“I made an offer on the house.” Mary’s mouth went dry. “I hope you understand. If you want, I’ll come over and we can talk. It’s probably not a conversation we should have over the telephone.”

“Well, I’m happy for you.” Anthony’s tone softened, and Mary could hear the genuine emotion in his voice.

“Thanks.”

“You should be proud of yourself. I’m proud of you, and I’m sorry for what I said in the house today and the way I spoke to you.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Mary said, biting her lip. She almost rather that he’d yell at her or be angry. She heard a new resignation in his voice, and a finality.

“We have a major issue that we should explore, and I think you’re right, we shouldn’t do it over the phone. Let’s give this some thought, then we can talk about it another time. Does that sound good?”

Gulp. “Sure, you free for dinner tomorrow?”

“I think it will take me a little longer than that. I need some perspective. I think we need to take a break.”

Mary felt stricken. Suddenly she heard a beep on the phone that meant another call was coming in, but she wasn’t about to interrupt him. “I don’t think we need a break.”

“We do. I do.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know. I’ll call you.”

“Anthony, are we breaking up?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I have to go. I’ll call you. Bye.”

Mary hung up, anguished. It was one thing to tell yourself you can accept the consequences, but another when they actually happen. Still she wouldn’t take the decision back, even now. Buying the house was either the best or the worst thing she had ever done.

Does being me cost me you?

The BlackBerry beeped, signaling that someone had left a message. It could have been Janine or a client, so she pressed a button for voicemail and a message came on.

“DiNunzio, it’s me.”

It was Bennie, but she sounded strained.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine, but I’m calling you from Pellesburg Hospital, which is God knows where. I need you to feed and walk Bear. Ask my neighbor next door, with the red shutters, for my house key. Then call Marshall and tell her to cancel all my credit cards. Call me back and I’ll tell you the details. I don’t know the hospital’s main number, just call me back.”

Mary pressed END, bewildered. Bennie was in the hospital? What happened? Was it some kind of accident? What was she doing in Pellesburg, wherever that was? And why all this stuff with the credit cards?

Mary checked her phone log, which showed the last call, so she pressed the number and a woman answered, “Pellesburg Hospital.”

“I’d like to speak to Bennie Rosato. She’s a patient there.”

“Thank you.” There was a clicking sound, then the operator said, “We have no one here by that name.”

“I’m sure she’s there. She just called me a minute ago.”