story was “local woman arrested in the bludgeoning murder of Brooklyn man.” A photo of a grinning Curt, complete with gold chain, flashed on the screen, followed by a video taken earlier that day of Hilda doing the perp walk. Darla groaned and promptly flipped the station to the animal channel for a bit of respite, only to find that a repeat of a shark special was playing. She clicked through the channels again and settled on an infomercial featuring an over-the-hill action star hawking a piece of exercise equipment. But his nasally twang was soothing, reminding her of the folks back home, and before she knew it she’d fallen asleep.
When she awoke, it was to find herself curled uncomfortably on the sofa with another infomercial—this one for the Eggspert Egg Slicer—winding down. Hurriedly, Darla checked her answering machine and her cell phone in case she had slept through a call. Finding that neither Hilda nor Jake had phoned while she slept, she wearily made her way downstairs to check on the purse. It was gone, meaning that Jake had made it home and retrieved the bag for later.
She had just started up the stairs again when her sleep-fogged brain cleared enough for her to realize that the entryway lighting seemed strange somehow. She could see flashes of blue and red, almost as if a police car was parked right outside her door. Fully awake now, she hurried back to the door and peered past the curtains covering the glass. She gasped to see, not a police vehicle, but an ambulance parked on the street in front of her building.
Swiftly, she unlocked the front door and stumbled out into the cold night. Jake, dressed in her long black leather duster over gray sweats, was standing near the Plinskis’ stoop, a protective arm around Mary Ann. The old woman was dressed for sleep in a long pink flannel nightdress. She’d wrapped herself in a thick gray shawl the same pewter shade as the single long braid that hung past her thin shoulders.
“Mary Ann . . . Jake . . . what’s wrong?” Darla called as she rushed down her steps to join the pair.
Mary Ann turned toward her, and Darla saw that tears streaked her wrinkled cheeks. In a quavering voice, the old woman cried, “Darla, it’s Brother. I-I think he’s had a heart attack.”
NINETEEN
“OH, THANK GOD! I’M SO GLAD TO HEAR THAT. RIGHT, SEE YOU soon.”
Darla hung up her cell and turned to James and Robert. They had been leaning against the bookstore counter listening to her side of the conversation with matching expressions of hopeful concern. It was an improvement on the gloomy looks that the pair had worn ever since she had given them the lowdown on the previous night’s medical emergency when they arrived at the store. Robert, in particular, had taken the news hard.
“He’s, like, the only grandfather I have,” the teen had mumbled, looking dangerously close to tears. “If he needs, you know, blood or something, I’ll donate.”
Darla hadn’t had the heart then to explain that his impulsive offer wouldn’t be needed for the old man’s particular condition. She tucked the phone back in her pants pocket and gave the pair a big smile.
“That was Jake. The doctor just checked in on Mr. Plinski again, and he’s doing fine. Jake will be bringing Mary Ann home in just a bit, and her brother should be out of the hospital in another day or so.”
“Ah, then apparently the diagnosis of a minor heart attack that the emergency room physician gave last night was correct,” James said with a satisfied nod.
For his part, Robert let loose with a fist pump and a fervent, “Sweet!”
“Sweet is right,” Darla agreed, sitting down on the register stool and giving an audible whoosh of relief. “I have to admit, I was pretty worried last night. When the paramedics carried Mr. Plinski out on that wheeled stretcher, he looked in pretty bad shape.”
In fact, Darla had feared the old man was already dead, recalling the small, still figure that she’d seen strapped to the gurney. But then he’d momentarily lifted a wrinkled hand in his sister’s direction, indicating he’d not yet gone to that big antique store in the sky. Mary Ann, of course, had wanted to jump into the back of the ambulance with her brother, but Jake had gently dissuaded her.
“That’s no place for you,” she had said as the paramedics loaded the old man into the EMT rig and