CHAPTER THIRTEEN: A Man of My Word
Vanessa Cravat’s face looked as if she’d seen the devil himself rise from hell when she opened her apartment door and found Blair standing on the other side of it. She was wearing a bathrobe, and she pulled the top of it closed as she opened the door.
“Dr. Vaughn!” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“Please, call me Blair. Suppose I told you that I was just in the neighborhood,” he said, but she didn’t look amused. “May I come in? I hope it’s not too late.”
When she didn’t answer right away, he got the feeling she wasn’t alone.
“I should have called first,” he finally said. “I’m sorry.”
“No, no,” she said. “It’s all right. Come in.”
He came in and looked around. He stuffed his hands in his pockets; for some reason, he was starting to feel foolish.
“Can I get you something?” she asked. “Something to drink?”
“Got any gin?”
“I’m sorry, no,” she said. Vanessa knew he had a drinking problem, and he wasn’t so sure she would’ve given him a stiff belt even if she had one.
“How about anything with a chemical structure that ends with a hydroxyl group?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t drink alcoholic beverages.”
Even though he wanted a drink in the worst way, he held up his hands and pretended that he was a slave to nothing. “That’s fine,” he said.
“How about coffee or tea?”
“Coffee, please. Black.”
She went into the kitchen and he followed her. As he passed by, he took that opportunity to stick his head into her bedroom, but it was too dark to see much of anything. If there was a man in there, he figured he would find out about it soon enough.
As Vanessa poured him a cup of coffee, he stood next to her and watched her with a certain fondness. Her auburn hair looked even lighter tonight, like thousands of strands of straw all neatly tied back in a cute little ponytail. An older woman to be sure, but tonight she looked like a vibrant teenager who was ready for anything. And Blair wasn’t about to let her down.
“This is the last of the coffee in the pot,” she said. “I’m afraid it’s a little thick.”
“It’s fine,” he said, taking the cup and sipping some. When he winced a little, she laughed.
“I told you it was bad.”
“I’m a man of my word,” he said, taking the restorative instruments from his pocket and handing them to her. “Here are the instruments I borrowed.”
She took them and put them down on the counter. “Thank you.”
“Vanessa, I need to get inside Cal Maxwell’s office.”
“Well, I’ll be there first thing Monday morning, so….”
“I need to get in there tonight.”
“Tonight? What for?”
“There’s something Cynthia had wanted me to see in one of the lab bins.”
“What?”
“I don’t know exactly, but she left this note for me.” He took the piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her.
“‘Lab case #21: Pigeon Blood,’” she read. “Pigeon Blood? That sounds awful. What does it mean?”
“I’m not really sure,” Blair said, “but that bin could be filled with some of the loveliest rubies anyone has ever seen.”
“Rubies? In a lab bin? And what do rubies have to do with pigeon’s blood?”
“I’m a rockhound. I’m not a geologist, but I do know that the words ‘pigeon blood’ refer to the transparent, bluish-red shade of the gemstone ruby, which happens to be its most prized color. The term was coined by the Burmese because the color resembles the blood of freshly killed pigeons. Look, I don’t have all the answers, Vanessa, but I can assure you of this: there’s something in that bin that Cynthia had wanted me to see.”
“Can’t this wait until Monday?”
“No. I’ve got to get to that bin before somebody else does.”
“There’s nothing in those bins except crowns, bridges, a few impressions, stone casts, bite registrations, and dentures waiting to be seated. Your mind is running wild with all sorts of odd notions because you’re so upset over Cynthia’s passing. It’s true she was adventuresome and spent a great deal of time chasing after gemstones, but I can assure you there are no rubies in that bin.”
“Something’s in there that Cynthia had wanted me to have, and I’ve got to get in that lab.” He stared at her as if to emphasize the point.
“Did she want you to have something in her file, too?”
“Excuse me?”
“One of the receptionists told me that you’d been poking your nose into some of the files behind the front desk.”
“Oh, that. Well, I looked in Cynthia’s file just to make sure she had no restorations in her mouth.”
“I could have told you that.”
“But I had to see for myself.”
“Why did you tell the receptionist that your name was McVaughn?”
He laughed a little. “Well, I admit that I was trying to snow her, but I don’t think I was very successful.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“All I was trying to do was get that out of Cynthia’s tooth.” He pointed to the paper she was holding. “She’d prepared her molar for a root canal treatment. Look at it closely. There are blood stains on it and traces of formaldehyde that you can smell.” Vanessa put the paper to her nose.
“I’ll just have to take your word about where this came from.”
He looked at her pleadingly. “I have to get into that lab, Vanessa.”
“Do you really have to do it tonight?”
He nodded vehemently. “I really do. Cynthia and Kevin are proof that people are dying over something, and it could be waiting for us in that bin.”
“These are just assumptions you’re making.”
“Hard assumptions,” he said. “I know that you’ve got a set of office keys.”
“I just can’t let you have them!”
“Then come with me.”
“Are you crazy? Are you trying to get me fired?”
“I’m trying to find out who killed Cynthia.” He held out his hand. “Please, either give me the keys or come with me.”
Vanessa stared at his hand and then heaved a sigh. Understandably, she didn’t like betraying her employer, but she said, “I never did care for the damn job anyway.”
“So you’ll come?” he said, taking the paper from her and carefully putting it back in his pocket.
She looked as if she was already regretting the decision she was about to make. “Yes, I’ll come along with you,” she said. “Only give me a few minutes to get dressed.”