Skeleton Key by Jane Haddam Page B

front room had once been a porch off the living room and had then been enclosed. Now it was an alcove off the living room, and the living room had no furniture in it. Eve rubbed at the side of her face and looked at the machine blinking in front of her. This room was full of machines: computers, telephones, fax machines, devices to contact beepers, radios turned to the police band. The movie on HBO was
Wag the Dog,
which was what everybody had been watching since August, when President Clinton had bombed the Sudan. Eve Wachinsky was not sure where the Sudan was—in Africa, she thought, but she wasn’t sure which part—but it bothered her to no end that her last name was so much like the last name of That Woman.
    Now she rubbed the side of her face and stared at the blinking light on the machine in front of her. The light told her which account the call was related to, so that she knew whether to say “Good evening, Southbury Diagnostics” or “Good evening, Holden Tool and Die” when she picked up. Right now, it felt to her as if everything on her body itched. She’d been sitting in the same place so long, it seemed as if every part of her body had gone to sleep. She wanted to cry, too, that was the thing, as if she had nothing to do with her life anymore except break down.
    She put the headset on, punched into the machine, and said, “Waterville Physicians Services. Can I help you?”
    â€œOh,” Rita Venotti said. “Eve, I’m sorry. I couldn’t remember the number I’m supposed to use, and I knew you’d be doing this one, so—”
    â€œIt’s all right,” Eve said. It was, too. She hated taking calls for doctors more than she hated anything. The patients were all crazy, and too many of them got abusive. “Bitch,” the women called her, when she would not give them their doctor’s home telephone numbers, or put them through to some doctor who was not on call. “Scum cunt” one of themen had said to her once, and she didn’t even remember why. The patients had terrible symptoms and waited for hours before calling in. They got addicted to their painkillers and then wanted more and more of them, from different doctors, called into different pharmacies. Eve rubbed the side of her face again, as if there was something there she needed to rub off.
    â€œEve?” Rita said.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Eve said. “I’m a little tired tonight, I guess.”
    â€œCould I talk to Darla?”
    â€œShe’s upstairs asleep. She’s got some kind of food poisoning, I think. Anyway, she was throwing up nonstop when I got here. And then she passed out.”
    â€œOh, dear. Well, I don’t suppose it matters. In fact, I know it doesn’t matter. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight. I need the road crew sent out to Four Corners. There’s a telephone pole down on Capernaum Road. You know that road?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œOne of those dirt things that’s really a mess, but the thing is, it goes out to that little cemetery and a few other places, so people actually want to use it. And according to the guy who called me, the pole is leaning practically sideways.”
    â€œI’d better call SNET, as well.”
    â€œNo, don’t do that. Let the town people do it when they get out. It’s so frustrating, really. I mean, Capernaum Road in the middle of the night. You’d think it could wait until morning. But I know what they’d say around here if I let it wait.”
    â€œI don’t think it’s good to let it wait with the telephone wire being interfered with,” Eve said. “Aren’t there other things up there on those poles, electrical stuff, that kind of thing?”
    â€œI don’t know. I don’t understand any of it. I just know that when the poles come down everything stops and they close off the road for half a day. You’d think