by Ellery Adams
“Did you tell Lombardi and Shelly what you’ve found out?”
“I called them, but neither answered. I’ve left both detailed voice mails. Lombardi is probably on his way to Boston to search Charlotte’s condo and talk to the shop employee. I wish I knew how his interview went with Wyatt.”
“Yeah, about that. You’re not going to ask Nathan and Pamela if they know about those phone calls, are you?”
“I thought I might. It would give me something to talk to them about.”
“Molly.” He looked her in the eye. “You should concentrate on meeting them, and getting to know them.”
“But I might learn something that could help Lombardi. Suspects aren’t always honest with him, you know. People talk to me.”
“Yes, but these aren’t just any people. It’s your father, and his wife. Besides, who says they even know anything about Wyatt’s connection with Charlotte? Let it be.” He opened the car door. “Come on. No more procrastinating. It’s time to go.”
Molly took a deep breath before she got out of the car. It didn’t help. The moment she walked into the restaurant, her stomach cramped. The smiling hostess didn’t notice, but the lights were low, and maybe that was a good thing, because she felt like her skin was turning green. The hostess escorted them to a table for six in the back. Clara and Sean were already seated, facing the door, and Clara smiled encouragingly as they approached the table. If her mother was experiencing any awkward feelings about seeing her ex-husband in more than three decades, and meeting his new wife, it didn’t show on her face.
Nathan and Pamela turned slowly around, and Molly felt her breath catch in her throat. This was it. She was going to meet her father. She hoped she didn’t pass out.
Nathan stood up to greet her, and she immediately thought he didn’t look anything like his old photographs. He was just an average middle-aged man with streaks of gray in his hair, tall, like her, but pudgy around his waistline. She wondered if that was a chef thing.
“Thanks for coming,” he said. “It’s really nice to meet you.”
He had a smooth voice, like a radio announcer’s, which was unexpected. He said something else to her, but a loud buzzing noise had started up in her ears, and she couldn’t hear what it was. She stared at him, her feet frozen in place. Nathan stuck out his hand, but her hands were stuck by her sides. She couldn’t move, and couldn’t speak. Matt sensed what was happening. He shook Nathan’s hand, then turned to Molly, and took her by the arm. He steered her to an empty chair between Sean and Pamela, well across the table from where Nathan was sitting.
Pamela Lyman’s hair was pure white, and worn a little long. She wore a white blouse and tan slacks, and although she looked older than Nathan, she appeared fit and lean. As soon as Molly sat down, Pamela rested her hand on her arm and said, “Thank you for doing this.” The buzzing sound had mostly abated, but Molly wished it would come back. She didn’t want to hear what this elegant woman with her stylish clothes and sharp cheekbones was saying. “Nathan’s been so worried.” She spoke quietly, as if relaying a confidence only to Molly. “He thought you would tell him to go fly a kite. Imagine his surprise when you asked us to dinner.”
Yeah, imagine that, Molly thought.
Pamela was silent for a moment, probably to give her time to respond, but Molly wasn’t going to say a word. She smiled, and ignored her, and turned to Sean on her other side.
“If you feel the need to leave,” he whispered, “just say the word. We’ll get you out of here.”
Molly felt tears spring to her eyes. She blinked them back furiously. She hated to cry. Sean was a big bear of a man, but under his gruff exterior, he was a softie. Sean handed her a menu, and she buried her nose in it. She had no appetite. This was a sure sign that she was under stress. Molly loved to eat. It was her favorite thing in the world. And then she remembered her father was a chef, which meant he liked food, too. This was something they shared. This made her feel a little better about him, but when the waiter appeared and recited the specials, she continued to ignore him from across the table. He’s probably disappointed, she thought, that I’m not saying anything. Why had she set this up? She should have stayed home.
Molly didn’t like to feel out of control, and the situation she’d put herself in was making her feel untethered and childishly afraid. It was strange, she thought, how she had faced so many stressful, and dangerous, situations in her life, but this one, which should have been easy, was turning out to be extremely difficult. She thought she might be having heart palpitations, and hoped she didn’t have a panic attack.
The waiter appeared at her side. She ordered the grilled salmon with rice pilaf and mixed vegetables. This seemed the safest dish to order. It wouldn’t upset her stomach more than it already was. When the waiter moved on to Sean, Pamela said to the table at large, “This is the first time I’ve ever been to this restaurant. What about the rest of you?”
“First time for us,” Clara said.
Matt said, “Molly and I have been here a few times. The food’s always been good.”
Pamela turned back to Molly and smiled. Molly focused on her straight white teeth. How did she get them that white? They were practically blinding her.
“Were you aware that your father is a chef?”
“Ye-es.” Molly had to clear her throat. “Yes. My mother told me.”
Finally, she had found her voice. Big mistake, though, because Nathan took that as an opening to talk to her. He said, “It’s called the Bronze Chicken. It’s in Brooklyn. I opened it ten years ago, and it’s been going strong ever since. I—”
Pamela interrupted. “Your father and I met there last Christmas, while I was visiting friends. They kept going on and on about the Bronze Chicken, and they took me to dinner, and after a scrumptious meal, I just had to meet the chef.” She looked at Nathan. “The moment we locked eyes, well . . .” She sighed deeply. “I knew it was love at first sight. Wasn’t it, darling?”
Nathan nodded. “It certainly was.”
Pamela turned back to Molly, her hand once more coming to rest on her arm, which annoyed her. She didn’t like being touched by a stranger. “Your father has told me so much about you, I feel as if I know you already. I’m curious . . . why did you give up teaching at an exclusive private school? It’s such a noble profession.”
“I believe writing is a noble profession, too,” Molly said. She wasn’t going to explain herself to this woman. Another waiter deposited a basket with warm rolls and butter in front of her, and she grabbed a warm roll.
Clara said, “Molly loves antiques. She started going to auctions and browsing antiques stores with me when she was a little girl. Eventually, she submitted articles to Collector’s Weekly, and when a full-time job became available, she jumped at the chance.” Molly was shooting her daggers. Please stop talking! “I encouraged her to. She’s a wonderful writer. Being a teacher was fulfilling, of course, but she had so little time for herself.”
Molly sighed inwardly. She felt like a prisoner at the table. Why had she suggested they meet?
Pamela said, “I have read some of your articles. I don’t know much about antiques, but you do seem well informed.” Well informed? Molly took a deep breath. She didn’t want to not like Pamela. She told herself to give the woman a chance, but she wasn’t making it easy. She thought she was pushy. “Your crime reporting was a surprise. Why do you do it?”
This is it, Molly thought. Her opening to bring up Wyatt and Charlotte. She knew Matt thought it wasn’t the right time and place, but what if she never saw Nathan and Pamela again? After tonight, that was a distinct possibility.
“I suppose I do it because I like to help people. When someone dies, they leave behind grieving family and friends. If I can play even a small part in bringing a criminal to justice, I feel I’ve done something worthwhile.” Molly glanced around the table. Nathan and Matt seemed to be enjoying a conversation they were sharing with Sean, and Clara was giving her order to the wai
ter. That meant she had Pamela all to herself. She said quietly, “I know the police have questioned your son about his relationship with Charlotte Blair. Have you heard about her? She was killed on Monday morning at her antiques store. Did Wyatt mention this to you?”
Pamela smiled. “Well, yes, it so happens I have spoken to my son. He’s assured me he had nothing to do with that unfortunate woman’s death.”
Molly took a bite of her roll. “I found Charlotte’s body at her store. Ma and I did. I was going to interview her for the magazine.”
Pamela looked surprised. “I had no idea. How fascinating.” She paused. “Is that why you’re asking me about Wyatt’s relationship with her?”
“Oh, so you’re saying he was in a relationship with Charlotte?”
Pamela smiled. “My goodness, you don’t miss anything. You’re also very straightforward. I like that. As a businesswoman, I’ve had to deal with a lot of difficult people to get things done, and I have found that being frank is often the best course of action when you want answers.” She picked up her water glass and took a sip. “Wyatt told me he had an affair with Charlotte, but he put an end to it about two months ago. He told all of this to Detective Lombardi, the police officer investigating her death. But he is worried he doesn’t believe him, because he can’t prove he was working from home on Monday morning. I told him to hire a criminal lawyer. He’s hesitant to do so. He believes it will make him look guilty.” Well, that’s stupid, Molly thought. She could tell from the expression on Pamela’s face she thought it was stupid, too. “I’ve just had a thought. If I paid you, would you help us prove that my son had nothing to do with any of this?”
Molly sat back. “I’m not a private investigator. I work for the magazine.”
Pamela smiled. “Meaning you won’t take my money.”
“Meaning exactly that. I’m already looking into the case, on my own, for an article.”
Pamela’s smile widened. Her teeth sparkled, but her eyes were hard. She’s a tough cookie, Molly thought. She’s used to getting her way. “Then I’ll arrange for you to meet Wyatt. His wife, Alison, too. It seems Detective Lombardi paid her a visit as well.”
“Okay.” Molly looked at her. The night wasn’t a total disaster after all. At least she would get to meet Wyatt and Alison. “Are you sure your son isn’t guilty?”
“Of course. What a question.” Pamela sounded offended. “Wyatt isn’t a ruthless man, not in his personal life, and certainly not in business. His father and I often wished he had more of a backbone. In our line of business, you have to get tough at times, and fight for the contracts you’re trying to win. Wyatt gives up, and gives in, far too often. He’s only been successful because I’m still around to give him advice, and thankfully, he does listen to me.” She leaned toward her. “I would do anything for my son, and he’s in grave trouble right now. You have a child. I’m sure you would do anything to help Tyler.” Pamela paused. “Speaking of Tyler, your father would love to meet him. He’s very excited to be a grandfather.”
Molly stared at her. “He’s excited to be a grandfather? Did he tell you about how he abandoned me and my mother when I was eight days old?”
“He told me he left, but he has regrets, and—”
The conversation had changed quickly, and Molly wasn’t prepared for it. Her heart pounding in her chest, she stood up fast, almost knocking over her chair, grabbing it before it fell to the floor. “I’m not feeling well. I want to go home.” Everyone stopped talking. Matt got up and came over to her. Sean started to rise, but Molly placed her hand on his shoulder. “You and Ma should stay. Enjoy your meal. Have them box ours up, and take them home with you.” Nathan hadn’t moved, or said a word. Pamela was watching her with a disapproving stare. Molly was determined to ignore them both, but as she and Matt walked past Nathan, she felt obliged to say, “I’m sorry. I just can’t do this right now.”
Chapter 11
The silence in the car stretched out between Molly and Matt, as she wasn’t ready to talk about her quick exit from the restaurant. They arrived home hungry, since they hadn’t eaten their meals. Matt scrambled some eggs, and made toast, and as they ate, Molly told him and Starling (who was surprised to see them home so early) how she had felt trapped in the restaurant.
“When Pamela started talking about Nathan being excited to be a grandfather, I couldn’t handle it,” she said. “I thought I could do this, I really did, but I felt so overwhelmed all of a sudden.”
“It’s okay,” Matt said. “It was the first time you’ve laid eyes on your father. Now that you’ve seen him, you can take a breather, and try again, if that’s what you want.”
The only thing Molly wanted was an early bedtime and a good night’s sleep. An hour later, after a soothing cup of chamomile tea, she climbed into bed and pulled the quilt up to her chin. Outside, the wind rattled the windows. Rain was in the forecast. Merlin and Griffin jumped up onto the bed, and went straight for her legs. They tried to settle on top of her, but she pushed them off.
“No way, guys. You’re too heavy.” They changed direction. Merlin wedged himself between the top of her head and the headboard, while Griffin curled up on Matt’s side of the bed. “Matt, you better hurry up in the bathroom. Griffin is making himself comfortable on your side.”
Matt came out of the bathroom, and reached for Griffin, but the cat was too quick for him. He leaped off the bed and out of the room. “He thinks he’s tricking me into thinking he’s gone for good, but I know he’ll be back. He’s such a bed hog.” Matt got under the covers with Molly. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ve embarrassed myself, and you, haven’t I? I’ve wasted everyone’s time.”
Matt rolled onto his side to look at her. “You thought you could do it, but you weren’t ready. That’s all.” He paused. “I couldn’t quite hear your conversation with Pamela, but I did hear the name Wyatt being mentioned. I thought you were going to wait on that.”
“I couldn’t help it.” She smiled. “She told me he had an affair with Charlotte.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, I suppose that’s big news.”
“He told her he broke it off, and Pamela doesn’t believe he killed her, because he’s too weak in business, and his personal life, and not capable of it. Can you imagine? She practically called him a wimp.”
“I didn’t like what she said about you taking the job at the magazine. She was very critical, and it wasn’t very nice.”
“Thank you. I didn’t think it was nice, either. And what does she know? She wasn’t in my position at the school. She doesn’t know how much work it was, or how much I love antiques. She was judging me, suggesting I’d made a poor choice.”
“Oh, who cares what she thinks? Right?”
“Right, who cares.” Molly blew out her breath. “I got what I wanted. She said she’d set up a meeting for me with Wyatt, and his wife.”
Matt rolled over and switched off the lamp. “Well, then I guess the night wasn’t a waste of time after all.” They had a nightlight in the hall that cast a soft glow into the room. He turned back to her. “I hate to say this, but I think you should consider bowing out.”
“What? Of the case? I’m just getting started.”
“Your relationship with Nathan and Pamela, like it or not, could throw a wrench into things, and make it harder for Lombardi if it were to become a conflict of interest.”
“How? I’ve never met Wyatt before, or my father, except for that one time after my birth. I certainly don’t have a relationship with any of these people.”
“Actually, you kind of do. Like it or not, Nathan is your father, which technically makes Pamela your stepmother, and Wyatt your stepbrother.”
“Oh, no, no, no. That’s not fair. They’re strangers!”
“I’m just tossing it out there. You should at least keep it in mind.” He paused. “Now, would you like to know my opinion of Nathan?”
Molly wasn’t sure what to say. Did she want to know? Would it make a di
fference? “I saw you talking to him. You were smiling. Does that mean you like him?”
“I do like him,” he said. “He actually seems like a very nice man. He has a good sense of humor, too.”
Molly frowned. The idea of her father having a sense of humor somehow irritated her. It was ridiculous, but she couldn’t help it. “So what does this mean? You’re friends with him now?”
Matt shook his head. “Not even close, but I appreciated how he answered honestly when I asked him why he left you and your mother.”
“You did what?” Molly stared at him. “Talk about charging right in. What prompted you to ask him?”
“You did, because I could see the way you were avoiding him, and I knew you’d never ask him yourself. Do you want to know what he said?” Molly hesitated. She did, but she didn’t. Matt reached for her hand. “Do you trust me?”
Molly nodded. “Yes, of course I trust you.”
“Then let me tell you what he said.”
Molly closed her eyes. If she could be granted one wish, she would wish to go back in time, just a few days, to the way her life was before Nathan had barged his way into it. Oblivious of him. No knowledge, no angst, no worries.
“Sweetheart, please open your eyes.” Molly slowly opened her eyes. “I’m going to tell you what he said, and then we don’t need to ever talk about it again, okay?”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath, steeling herself. “Tell me.”
“He told me his father emotionally and physically abused his mother, and was cruel to him and his sister. Corporal punishment was the standard form of discipline for even the slightest offense.”
Molly was shocked. “It never occurred to me that he’d had a bad father, and a rough childhood. I didn’t know I had an aunt, either.”
“Your mother never told you about her?”
“No, but don’t blame her. I never asked about his side of the family.” Her devotion to obliviousness ran deeper than she’d given it credit for.
