Toni realized Dean’s curiosity needed satisfying, and she explained that she had locked herself out of her apartment. Nothing more serious than that. When she finished, Michael reappeared.
“I found the super. He unlocked the door.”
Grateful that Dean had come to her rescue, she smiled and returned the cellphone he’d lent her. She left the store and with Michael at her side, hurried back to her apartment building.
In response to their ring, the super buzzed them in, and they rode the elevator back to the fifth floor. As Michael had told her, they’d left the front door unlocked. He turned the knob, and they stepped into the foyer.
He touched her arm. “Before you go inside, I have to tell you something.”
Her first thought was that the apartment had been trashed, but she quickly dismissed it. The intruder had followed her down the stairs. It would have been stupid of him to return and risk discovery just to wreak havoc on her possessions.
She discounted robbery as well. The time it would take to seek out the few pieces of good jewelry she owned would hardly have been worth the danger. She gave the attorney a quizzical look.
“The cat ….”
“Oscar?” She didn’t like the tone of his voice or the expression of pain that crossed his face.
“We found him in the kitchen. He’d been struck on the head, but he’s still alive. Barely. I called the police and the super stayed here so he can take Oscar to a vet right away.”
Toni uttered a stricken cry and felt tears well in her eyes. She bit down on her lower lip. Who would do such a senseless, cruel thing? Why?
Michael opened the door, and she saw the super just inside. Before she could speak to him, she heard loud footsteps behind her and saw two uniformed police officers approaching.
“What?”
One of the officers said, “Detective Devine says to take a cat to the animal hospital and check its fur for evidence.”
Toni followed them into the kitchen where the cat lay, his body covered with a towel. She stroked him behind the ears, which he’d always loved. He was her faithful companion who shared her limited spare time. She stood frozen in silence for a moment, sad and outraged.
The super gave a low cough. He stood behind her, holding a wooden box. About a foot long, it resembled the kind companies used to ship fragile objects. He tucked the towel around Oscar’s limp body and placed him carefully in the small crate. “I’ll go with you,” he told the cops. “It’s not far.”
His words, unusually kind for someone who always seemed so gruff, touched Toni and brought her close to tears again.
“Thank you.”
After the trio left the kitchen and headed for the front door, Toni noticed again the empty slot in the wooden knife block sitting on the counter closest to the sink. She assumed the intruder stole the knife, expecting to use it on her at once. A fatal thrust while in the apartment would alert no one. However, her escape down the stairwell had taken away any opportunity to use it. Of course he had no reason to replace it. Another thought made her skin prickle, as if it were crawling with insects. Where was the knife now? Discarded in a nearby garbage bin or kept close with the intention of using it another time?
Michael appeared in the doorway and gently urged her back into the living room.
“Tell me how the cat alerted you that someone had gotten inside?”
“He collected people.” She remembered Oscar’s propensity to endear himself to strangers. “He could be very perverse. Whenever someone else came into the room, he ignored me. I think it was his way of telling me I left him alone too much.”
She went to the windows and adjusted the shutters, letting pale bands of light filter into the room through the slats.
“Also, someone closed the shutters. I always leave them open as long as there’s light outside, but, as you can see, anyone from the apartments across the street could look into this room if they wanted to.” Apparently, whatever evil had been planned for her required that any prying eyes be shut out.
Michael returned to the entry foyer. She joined him there and watched him examine the front door, as if it might offer some clue to the identity of the intruder. Then he went into the kitchen and focused on the door leading to the fire exit. Toni was still behind him.
She was angry with herself now for having been so cavalier about locks. Although she lived in a city whose crime statistics cried out for extra caution, she seldom allowed herself to consider the danger.
“Sometimes I forget to use the chains.” She noticed they were now in place on the kitchen door. “I suppose anyone serious about entering could get by that lock.”
“And the security door downstairs. It would be simple enough to follow a tenant who used a key, or ring bells at random until someone buzzed it open. Then up the fire stairs and through your back door.”
Toni returned to the living room and sat on the sofa, whose soft comfort usually soothed her. Michael followed.
“Why would anyone want to kill me?” She shivered at the thought.
“Unless you’ve been hiding parts of your life, I think it’s obvious this incident has some connection to Landis’s death. That’s why I had to notify the detectives investigating it. It must be taken very seriously.”
She still hated the idea of involving the police. “What can they do but ask a lot of questions I can’t answer?” She stared at him, her voice tinged with weariness. “I can’t identify anyone.”
“They probably can’t do much more at this point than file a report, but they need to know your life has been threatened.”
“If they even believe me. Neither detective sounded convinced I didn’t murder Craig.”
“I understand your feelings, but it’s important we inform them about this. It needs to go on the record.”
She sighed. “I know you’re right.” She pulled her feet up under her and curled into the corner of the sofa. Soon she’d have to relive the nightmare again.
“In view of what happened here tonight, we have to consider two possibilities. One, that you saw the person who murdered Craig and your life is in danger because of that, or two, the bullet that killed him might have been meant for you instead.”
Toni shook her head, discounting the latter theory immediately. “No, that’s ridiculous. I can’t think of a single reason why anyone would want to kill me. I’ve never deliberately made an enemy in my life. Not even Leo.”
“Your director?”
“Yes.” She reminded him about Leo’s recent crusade to have her character, Alexandra, written out of the show. “Whatever his reasons, I can’t believe they have anything to do with me personally.”
“But if you eliminate Toni Abbott, you automatically dispose of Alexandra.”
“I don’t see Leo resorting to anything so drastic. I’m not a threat to him personally. At least not as far as I know.”
“Whoever is guilty took a big risk coming here tonight. That’s the act of a desperate person.” He rose to his feet. Hands jammed in his pockets, he paced the room, his face expressing deep concentration.
“Maybe you’re a threat to someone else.”
She pondered a moment. “Janet Whitman.” She was under no illusion the woman liked her. “There’s a rumor around the set that her character, Isabelle Winston, might be dropped if the producer and writers decide to further develop the character I play.”
“Is that possible?”
“I was hired for only six weeks. Then Beekman Place took a jump in the ratings, and my contract was extended indefinitely.”
“So Janet could be jealous?”
Toni shrugged. “ ‘Afraid’ would probably be a more accurate description. It’s very difficult for an actress to find work in the film industry after a certain age. I’ve heard of Academy Award winners being forced to audition for even small supporting roles. Treated like cattle. Furthermore, Janet is over fifty. It’s not fair, but that’s the way the system works.”
“She wouldn’t want to lose her part.”
“Yet, would she kill to keep it?”
“Do you get much fan mail?”
Toni nodded, wondering why Michael changed the subject. “I don’t even see it. It’s taken care of by other people. Why?”
“Fans have been known to get carried away. Bizarre fantasies, whatever.” He left it vague, as if not wanting to alarm her further.
“That hadn’t occurred to me.” She thought of the several young actresses she’d heard of who had been attacked, even killed, by stalkers in recent years.
“I’ll get my investigator, Gil, on it. Have him talk to the people who deal with the mail.”
Toni felt spent. Tension pulled at the muscles between her shoulder blades. Would these riddles ever be solved? Or would they just keep multiplying?