“But you are questioning me. What more do you want?” My mother’s voice was high pitched.
Truman turned it down a notch and sent her a look of pity. “I meant downtown.”
My mother shook her head, her amethyst drop earrings pelting her cheeks with force. “Not today. I just want to take a long, hot bath after my first day of work.” When she saw that he was serious, she placed Ramona on the floor and skittered away from us. Her hands shook as she assembled the start of a tea service. “I’ll make you a cup of something else and you can finish your questioning here. How about a nice cup of gingerbread tea? It’s much less harsh than the French roast the girls drink.” Her attempts at steamrolling appeared to work as Truman made no moves. He allowed her to bustle about for a few moments. Truman’s icy demeanor melted a notch.
“Carole.” The kindness that had returned to Truman’s voice made my mother stop her frenzied ministrations. “We really do need to finish this questioning downtown. Now.”
My mother dropped a cup, a lovely Spode number embossed with a Christmas tree filled with woodland creatures. It broke in two at her feet. She barely noticed.
“And as a courtesy, I’m letting you know an attorney can attend, too.”
I was simultaneously cheered and frightened. He hadn’t formally read my mother her Miranda rights. This was just a questioning session. But with the police, it was never just a questioning session. My former attorney antennae were quivering. My mom was in deeper doo-doo than I thought, more than just the pug variety.
“I’ll go, Mom. I haven’t practiced in a while, but I still have my license.” I knelt at her feet and rescued the broken cup.
Mom looked down at me as if waking from a trance.
“I don’t need an attorney, as I’ve done nothing wrong!” She violently whipped her blue wool coat from the back of her chair. “I can’t wait to put this behind me. Truman, come along.” My mother flounced down the hall, with the chief of police in her wake.
Rachel, Doug, and I pressed our faces against the cold glass windows in the parlor. The scene before us was downright disturbing. Truman opened the door of his cruiser, and my mother climbed in. At least for now she was ensconced in the passenger seat, not the back where suspected criminals were separated from law enforcement by a metal grille. She looked stoic in her profile. At the last second her head swiveled around, her bob dyed to match Rachel’s hair fanning around her face. She looked utterly terrified but offered a weak wave. I didn’t know I’d been holding my breath until the red taillights disappeared in the thick fog at the end of the long drive.
“It’ll be alright. She didn’t do anything! It has to be alright.” Rachel brushed away a stream of tears coursing down her face. I slung an arm around my sister, and Doug did the same.
Oh, dear God.
The detail that had escaped me earlier finally freed itself from the recesses of my thoughts. The day my mother arrived from the airport, she’d stepped into Thistle Park and soon plucked a half-empty jug of antifreeze from Doug’s hands. The very substance used to poison Lacey.
I hoped my sister was still right.
CHAPTER SIX
The next day dawned cold and damp. The fog that had rolled in as my mother rolled off to the police station had yet to dissipate. If anything, it was thicker and more opaque. It mirrored my read on the current crime situation in Port Quincy. Which once again maddeningly involved my family and friends.
I was exhausted from Truman’s brief questioning in the kitchen yesterday and knew I hadn’t even borne the brunt of it. That cheery duty had befallen my poor mother. I’d lain awake until I’d heard my mom’s weary footfalls on the back stair. I had heard her murmuring to Doug. I’d glanced at my watch and realized she’d been with Truman getting grilled until eleven o’clock.
I joined my parents and sister for breakfast. Doug got out the holiday blend of coffee after my mom’s declaration yesterday that she was tired of French roast.
“I’m sorry I even tried to make that heathen a cup of tea yesterday,” my mother tsked. She squinted at the shattered Spode cup before her and applied a clear trail of Super Glue. My mother seemed to be her usual spitfire self despite her late-night questioning. It could have just been latent adrenaline. Beneath her show of normalcy I detected a humming bundle of nerves.
“So what did Truman ask you?” Rachel tied the sash of her robe tighter around her curvy frame. The fabric was silk and featured an endless loop of penguins skating around a sheet of ice. I couldn’t help but think we were all skating on our own thin sheet.
“Oh, this and that.” My mother was frustratingly enigmatic. “He just wanted to go over a few details. We basically discussed what you’d already heard at the kitchen table.”
Yeah, right.
I exchanged a glance with my sister. Doug caught my eye and gave a barely perceptible shake of his head. I shrugged, and we wordlessly agreed to drop it.
“Enough of that!” My mother clapped her hands together, and Ramona sat up straighter. My mother tossed her a tiny sliver of bacon, and the pug happily lapped it up. “Let’s turn to happier topics. I love my new job. And because of the scope of the five developments, the Marches have given me permission to hire an assistant stager and decorator.”
“That’s awesome, Mom.” And it would have been, under any other circumstances. And while I still adored my friend Olivia, I was beginning to regret my other entanglements with the March family.
Doug cleared his throat. “And I’ll be teaching a class at Quincy College this summer on the Revolutionary War.”
“You’re both un-retiring!” I raised my coffee cup and beckoned my family to clink theirs together in an impromptu toast. “How does it feel?”
Doug chuckled. “Until class starts in late May, I’ll just be holding down the fort here while your mom runs herself ragged with her new staging job.” Doug attempted to sound cheery, but his statement came out a bit accusatory.
“Now, now, dear. I know it’ll be a big commitment working as a stager again full time. But we’ll still have plenty of time together.” My mother rubbed my stepfather’s back and sought to ease his concerns.
Doug used the moment as an opportunity to pounce. “Why don’t you really tell us what Truman asked you last night? You were there for nearly three hours.”
My mother dropped her hand and took a step back. “I said I was done talking about that.”
“I was an attorney, Mom. It might be helpful to hear what he asked you.”
And then we’ll know if we need to hire counsel for you.
My mother shook her head. When she saw the three of us aligned in a row, not taking no for an answer, she threw her hands up.
“Fine. It was no idle chit-chat, I can tell you that.” She blushed and took a fortifying slug of coffee. “Truman has a way of turning everything around. He’s a sneaky, sleuth-y, silver-tongued son-of-a-gun!” She set her cup down and nearly crumpled. This time she allowed Doug to put his arm around her. “We talked about everything and nothing. He kept hammering home the same points, then attacking from a slightly different angle.” She squirmed at the memory.
“Um, that is his job, Mom.” Rachel tried to be gentle in her reminder and slight defense of Truman, but my mother shot her a dagger glare.
My heart sunk into my stomach. It was initially hard to defend Truman, but my sister was right. He was just doing his job. But couldn’t he see my mother wouldn’t hurt a fly? I also realized my mother could be a bit hyperbolic. Her recounting of what had happened with Truman was probably quite embellished. I did wonder what she’d told the chief. I could have kicked myself; I should have just insisted on going with her to the questioning—scratch that—interrogation. But then I’d be persona non grata with Truman because I would have just told my mom to immediately shut it.
“And I would have thought,” my mom began, casting me a wounded look, “that Truman would cut me some slack. He’s almost family, you know.”
I opened
my mouth to rejoinder and then thought better of it.
“Don’t you see, Mallory? If you had married Garrett by now, Truman wouldn’t be treating me this way.” My mother crossed her arms in front of her and raised one brow.
Say what?!
“Don’t be ridiculous, Mom.” I brushed off her crazy claim. But a nagging kernel of truth rested in my mom’s claim. I was happy with things the way they were with Garrett. That is, until I realized lately that we’d barely been spending any time together. I’d cast a side-eye at my friend for starting a marriage as a workaholic wedding another workaholic. I wondered how Olivia’s marriage would fare if she only saw her husband on weekends. I knew some couples made that arrangement work but knew it would never be for me. Except I was now in just such a relationship. I barely saw Garrett and his sweet daughter Summer save for Sunday night dinners and the occasional coffee break.
“Earth to Mallory.” Rachel snapped her fingers in front of my nose. I dimly saw her magenta acrylics flash before my eyes. My sister pivoted and bestowed my mother and Doug with a winning smile. “And you don’t have to wait around for Mallory to wed. I bet I’ll beat her down the aisle first!”
My mother sent my sister an amused look. “Don’t be silly, Rachel Shepard.”
A crimson blush graced my sister’s cheekbones. “And why not? I have a date with Evan. He’s the third-most eligible bachelor in Port Quincy, right behind Garrett and Toby.” She smoothed her penguin robe. “Maybe it’s time I settled down and started a family.”
My mother’s face grew truly alarmed. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Rachel?”
My sister giggled now that she had our attention. “It’s just that I’ve matured in recent months. Just because Mallory doesn’t ever want to get married doesn’t mean that I can’t start seriously looking.”
Her speech sobered me. I’d fought off the silent expectations of the town of Port Quincy around my one-year anniversary with Garrett. Everyone expected a diamond to appear on my left hand, and I was secretly pleased that we were progressing in our relationship at our own speed. But things weren’t going in the right direction. I barely saw my beau. It was mid-December and we hadn’t discussed spending the holiday together. I blushed when I realized I would have to admit I’d agreed to throw Olivia’s wedding a mere two days before Christmas. I wanted to spend the holiday with Garrett. I wanted things to change. Starting right now.
“Plus,” Rachel continued, oblivious to my silent epiphany, “just because you don’t care that your biological clock is ticking away, I care about mine. I think I’d like to start a family sooner rather than later.”
This declaration made my mother’s eyes bug out of her head.
“What did you just say?” I stared at my sister, a thought percolating up in my head.
“Just that I’d like to start a family. Not everyone is married to his or her career, Mallory.”
“She’s pregnant.” I whispered the revelation to all assembled.
“Oh dear.” My mother crumpled against the counter, where Doug thankfully propped her up. He fanned her face with a recipe card, while I rushed to correct her.
“No, not Rachel, Mom. Olivia.”
I thought back to Olivia’s curious action of pouring a flute of champagne into the potted plant at Paws and Poinsettias. And pondered her rush to move up her wedding. And recalled her crushing exhaustion and her displeasure at the fish dish she’d once been so excited about. A bubble of relief rose in my chest. If Olivia had poured out her drink to avoid giving away news of her pregnancy, she probably had nothing to do with Lacey’s poisoning. I felt elated on one hand, but a bit chastened at ever having suspected my dear friend of murder.
“Thank goodness. You’re not ready for that, Rachel Marie Shepard. Not for a long time.” My mother laid her hand over her heart, trying to recover. My sister sent her a wounded look and flounced up the stairs.
* * *
My mother and sister carefully avoided each other as they got ready for the day. Mom left for work in her rental car. Doug retired to the library to read a new biography on Benjamin Franklin. And I feverishly texted Garrett with the suggestion of an impromptu lunch date.
I was going to spend more time with the love of my life. Now that Olivia was going to join his practice, Garrett would be able to spend more time with his daughter Summer and with yours truly. I beamed at the prospect. I’d been dragging my feet replacing the assistant I’d lost. It was time to hire a more permanent member to the wedding planning team. My relationship depended on it.
I was honestly surprised he had a half hour free for lunch. I usually declined when he suggested a noontime meal, and he did too when the invitation was mine, so we’d stopped asking each other. He really did need Olivia to join his practice. She’d held off on giving her official notice at my old firm, but she was slowly extricating herself from her commitments. Today, for example, she was back in Port Quincy. She’d taken the day off from work to help me take an inventory for the toy drive and to do some quick wedding dress shopping. She’d stood firm on her decision not to wear the March wedding dress. It was probably for the best, as it would be too late to alter the antique gown. Olivia would just have to find something off the rack that fit.
My heart was full as I parked the Butterscotch Monster on Spruce Street. I was elated at the thought of my best friend and boyfriend working together. And I couldn’t wait to gently broach the subject regarding my hunch. The holiday would be triply exciting if it were true Olivia was going to have a baby.
A group of carolers sang “Silver Bells” in four-part harmony. The pretty window displays revealed themselves as I passed each window, the veil of fog from last night slowly dissipating. I was content and finally feeling good about this December.
“I have big news.” Garrett clasped my hands in his after I slung off my coat and slid into the yellow vinyl booth at the Greasy Spoon Diner.
“Yes?” My voice was breathy. I couldn’t wait to share with him the realization I’d had about our relationship, and how I was committed to spending more time with him and his family.
“Judge Frank is going to retire.”
“Oh.” I smiled at the bit of gossip and wondered why we held hands for such a mundane piece of news. “That’s great for her. She’s been such a wonderful mentor.”
Garrett nodded, a sparkle lighting up his hazel eyes. “Her retirement also impacts the trial law practicum she teaches at Pitt.”
I’d known Garrett had met the judge when she was teaching him in the very same class in law school. He’d booked the course, earning the highest grade in the class. When he started practicing in Port Quincy, the judge continued on in her role as his mentor. I knew he had the highest respect for Toby’s mother and offered her unparalleled deference.
“Ursula wants to spend more time with Toby and Olivia. She wanted me to offer you her apologies. She wanted to be more involved in the planning of the wedding.”
I nodded. “She said as much at Paws and Poinsettias. Has she found her cat, Hemingway?” I glanced outside at the chilly December weather. Save for a few evenings of sleet, the weather hadn’t yet dipped below freezing. I worried about the pretty Persian and hoped he’d been reunited with the judge.
“Not yet, unfortunately. Ursula is beside herself.” He chuckled. “She said losing her cat was a wake-up call that she needed to spend more time with those she loves.”
I smiled at the sentiment. I’d just come to a similar realization and wanted to hear Garrett’s news so I could share my epiphany with him.
“She has asked me to take over her class.” Garrett’s face lit up in a way it hadn’t in months.
“That’s fantastic!” I leaned across the sparkly Formica tabletop to grace Garrett with a kiss. “You’ve always wanted to teach.”
It was true. Garrett had started out his legal career with teaching in mind before he’d transferred schools and returned to Western Pennsylvania to take care of Summer. It would be
a sweet bookend to end up in the classroom after all.
“The class meets one day a week, right?” That wouldn’t be so bad. With Olivia joining his practice, it wouldn’t change much to have him driving home late one evening after teaching in Pittsburgh.
“I met with the dean, and the opportunity has morphed into so much more.” Garrett let go of my hands and took a sip of iced tea. His hazel eyes twinkled. He seemed rueful, nervous, and excited.
“Oh?” Little alarm bells began to trill in my head. The menu I’d picked up slithered from my grasp. I knelt to retrieve it from the floor.
“Don’t worry. I’ll ask the server for a new one.” Garrett seemed impatient to continue. “The law school has offered me a position running their newly proposed criminal defense clinic!”
“That’s amazing, sweetheart.” I heard the edge of doubt in my words, but Garrett didn’t seem to pick up on it. “That’s a pretty big commitment.”
I recalled the environmental clinic I’d participated in at Georgetown for a semester. It had been an intensive experience.
“I’d get to design the clinic before we launched. I could begin in January, with the inaugural semester beginning in the fall.”
“Could you plan the clinic from here?” My voice was small and pleading.
Garrett’s gaze turned soft. “Summer and I would be relocating to Pittsburgh.”
“You ready to order, hon?” A harried server arrived, letting me off the hook. It didn’t matter. I was rendered speechless.
“I’ll have a cup of coffee and the shepherd’s pie.” Garrett filled the silence as the server turned expectantly to me.
“Um, the same,” I mumbled, barely cognizant of what I’d ordered.
“I know it’s sudden.” Garrett clasped my hands again. His were warm and capable but mine had suddenly gone cold. “But we’d still see each other on the weekends, just like now.”
I withdrew my hands. “You mean Sunday night dinner.”
His buoyant mood cooled a few degrees. “We’re so busy, Mallory. I’ve wanted to spend more time together. We just have to make it more of a priority.”
Marry Christmas Murder Page 9
