Death of a Cookbook Author
Page 21
“Yes. He started yelling about how I still had feelings for Lena and he kept poking me in the chest with his finger and spitting at me and calling me names, and so I just gave him a little shove backward. Well, that didn’t sit well with him and he suddenly charged at me and started throwing punches and hollering and I got him into a headlock to try and calm him down. But that just made him madder, and he punched me in the kidney, which nearly took me off my feet, but I managed to steady myself and then . . .”
Lex stopped talking.
His face flinched as he relived the painful memory of that night.
“And then what, Lex?”
“He ran at me, and we collided and stumbled back, and I knew we were getting close to the edge of the cliff, and so I dropped to my knees to stop the momentum, and he accidentally tripped over me, and the next thing I knew he was grasping at the grass near the edge, but before I even had a chance to grab him, he let go . . . and then he was gone . . .”
Lex’s eyes welled up with tears.
He was a tough man.
Hayley knew the last thing he would ever want would be for anyone to see him like this.
A bawling mawkish mess.
But he had always felt comfortable around her, and so he didn’t hide his face or turn away.
He simply allowed her to witness him crying.
Lex sniffed, wiped his nose with his forefinger. “I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, that he really didn’t fall, that I was just imagining it, but then I got closer to the edge and I saw him down there, his body all broken, and I knew for sure he was dead.”
“What did you do next?”
Lex sighed. “I panicked.”
Hayley knew this was the hardest part for him.
The part where he allowed his fear to dictate the course of events.
His face was full of shame and despair as he cleared his throat and continued. “I ran back to the cottage. Apparently I must have dropped my e-pipe near the scene either during the struggle or as I ran away, but it doesn’t matter. I never should have left. I was a coward, and I’m going to have to live with that the rest of my life. I didn’t sleep a wink that night and by morning I was so filled with guilt I decided to turn myself in . . . but I didn’t. When the body was discovered, there was so much to do and the whole estate was like a circus with the police and forensics people, and Penelope seemed so much more concerned with leaving on the boat trip on time than with making sure her husband was shipped off to the morgue. It never felt like the right time. And then, as the hours ticked by, and then the days ticked by, it became harder and harder to say anything. I knew everyone would want to know why I took so long to come forward, and the more time that passed, the less I could bring myself to confess to what I had done.”
“I can see how the guilt has been eating away at you . . .”
Lex took her by the arms and drew her close.
“I want you to drive me into town so I can turn myself in to Chief Alvares,” he said grimly.
“Wait . . .”
Lex gave her a puzzled look.
“Lex, I won’t say a word. I promise. We can keep this secret just between us,” she said, trying in vain to convince herself that this was the right way to go. “It was an accident. You’re no criminal, Lex. No one has to know.”
She couldn’t believe she still felt strongly enough about Lex Bansfield that she was willing to make a secret pact never to discuss the real sequence of events at Penelope Janice’s estate.
Lex smiled sadly and stroked her cheek. “Thank you. But no. It’s time I did the right thing, Hayley.”
He took her by the hand and led her over to her car, and opened the door for her. She climbed in the driver’s side, and once she was settled, he slammed the door, walked around the other side of the car, and slid into the passenger’s seat.
A gush of tears flowed down her face as she drove Lex to Bar Harbor, and at one point she almost had to pull over because she couldn’t see anything in front of her.
Lex, with a resigned and impassive look on his face, gently took the wheel to assist her while reaching into his pocket, withdrawing a handkerchief, and handing it to her, which she used to wipe the moisture away from her eyes.
She offered him a wan smile, acknowledged that she had the driving under control again, and his hand let go of the wheel.
They spent the rest of the ride in silence.
Except for the sniffles that kept escaping from Hayley as she fought back the flood of tears.
Chapter 33
When Lex Bansfield turned himself in to Police Chief Alvares, it didn’t take the local press long to pounce on the story, especially Hayley’s own Island Times paper. The Times’ rival publication, the Bar Harbor Herald, went with a more salacious view of events highlighting Lex’s torrid affair with the gorgeous and doomed murder victim Lena Hendricks and all the backstabbing and scheming that went on at the Penelope Janice estate, while Hayley insisted—pleaded, rather—with Sal to give a more balanced view of what really happened despite Sal’s instincts to go big.
Lex was well known and liked all over town, but this was a big news story, and could sell a lot of papers not to mention garner an avalanche of clicks online.
But Sal was well aware of Hayley’s history with Lex and so he made sure the coverage was at least somewhat fair.
Lex quickly made a deal with the county prosecutor.
Involuntary manslaughter.
According to Liddy’s boyfriend Sonny Lipton, who, as a lawyer, boasted a number of contacts in the legal community, Lex was exceedingly cooperative, appropriately remorseful, and willing to make any necessary reparations. This led to the judge’s sentencing him to six months in jail although most experts predicted he would be out in two.
And they were right.
Lex was quietly released eight weeks later with very little fanfare. Within three days, he had packed his belongings in the back of his truck and left town. He wanted to escape the memories of what had happened. He always had a road trip to Key West for some fishing on his bucket list, so that’s where Hayley assumed he went. She had visited him twice during his time in jail, but stopped when it became painfully clear it bothered him that she was seeing him locked up.
She waited until he got out and called to invite him over for dinner, but he made up an excuse, too much to do to get ready for his trip. And before she knew it, he was gone. Mona had spotted his truck barreling across the Trenton Bridge early one morning while she was on her way back from Ellsworth after buying some new lobster traps for her business, and that was the last time anyone saw him.
Lex Bansfield was gone for good, ready to put all the tragic events of the past summer behind him and start over somewhere else.
Hayley hoped she would one day see him again, but she wasn’t going to hold her breath. Lex was very proud and independent, he wasn’t much of a communicator, and he rarely showed any kind of strong emotion.
But most of all, Lex Bansfield was a loner.
Always had been.
Always would be.
Which was a big part of the reason it didn’t work out between him and Hayley in the long run.
Hayley sat at her desk at the Island Times lost in thought, wondering if Lex had really gone fishing in Florida, or if that was just a story he told to keep people from trying to locate him.
It was past five o’clock, her quitting time, so Hayley shut down her computer and reached underneath her desk for her bag. Sal was still toiling in his office, but otherwise, everyone else was either out covering a story or had gone home for the day.
The door suddenly blew open, and much to Hayley’s surprise, a rather regal woman in a stylish hat, carrying a sophisticated air about her, breezed inside the office.
It took Hayley a moment to recognize her.
Penelope Janice.
It had been months since the events that unspooled so dramatically over the Fourth of July weekend.
Penelope appeared
fresh-faced and relaxed, as if she had just spent a week at some high-end spa in Arizona getting massages and facials and mud baths, rejuvenating herself and putting all the unpleasantness of her scandal-plagued summer behind her.
There was still no word on any kind of memorial for Conrad. His parents were already gone and he was an only child and he and Penelope never had children so his cousins held a small service for family and friends in his hometown of Dayton, Ohio. But that was pretty much it. Penelope barely mentioned him on her show. It was as if he never existed.
Penelope did, however, establish a scholarship program in Lena’s name for aspiring writers going to college and was about to make the first sizable donation.
“Hello, Hayley, how have you been?” Penelope asked, flashing that megawatt smile that had been on the cover of so many lifestyle and cooking magazines and, in recent weeks, tabloids.
“Fine,” Hayley said quietly.
“I’m glad I caught you. I’ve been meaning to call, but I’ve just been so busy flying back and forth between here and New York where I have been taping new episodes of my show.”
Hayley politely nodded.
She didn’t care if Penelope called or not.
She had been so worried about Lex the last thing on her mind was maintaining any kind of friendship with Penelope Janice.
“I have a proposition for you,” Penelope said, a twinge of excitement in her voice. “Remember that casserole cookbook I announced over the summer I wanted to publish?”
“The one you were going to co-write with Conrad?”
There was a flicker of discomfort on Penelope’s face as if the last name she wanted brought up was her late husband’s, but she held it together and offered a tight smile.
“Yes, that one. Well, I don’t want to write the whole thing by myself, and on my flight back to Bar Harbor this morning I had an epiphany. I want you to be my partner on it. We’ll write it together and split the royalties.”
Hayley was floored.
Co-authoring a book with Penelope Janice, a New York Times best-selling author whose last nine books had hit number one during their first week of release?
“Are you serious?”
“Absolutely. You proved yourself an excellent cook this summer. I love the way you write in your columns here at the paper. You’re very personable so I’m sure you would do very well on the talk-show circuit when we do the promotional tour. It makes perfect sense!”
Sal was being unusually quiet in his office in the back bull pen. Hayley knew he was eavesdropping on their conversation. It wasn’t every day a major TV celebrity swung into the Island Times office.
Hayley sat back in her chair, clutching the scuffed faux-leather bag in her lap. With the money she would probably make from writing a book with Penelope Janice, Hayley could buy a brand-new bag.
Maybe a Hermès or Marc Jacobs.
The offer was tempting.
But she already knew her answer.
“I appreciate the opportunity, Penelope, I really do, and I’m flattered that you would think of me, but I’m afraid I have to say no. But thank you.”
Penelope stared at her, flabbergasted.
It was the very rare occasion when anyone, least of all a local yokel who struggled to pay her property taxes like Hayley, said no to Penelope Janice.
“Oh,” she managed to get out. “I see.”
“But good luck on the book. I’m sure it will be another best seller.”
Penelope nodded, turned to leave, but then stopped by the door and turned back to Hayley. “May I ask why? You’re turning down a lot of money.”
Hayley thought carefully before she answered.
She didn’t want to upset Penelope, or cause a scene, or in any way make an enemy out of her, so she simply said, “Sometimes it’s not about the money.”
Penelope was not satisfied with her answer, but she realized that was all she was going to get so she left the Island Times office, still in a daze over being so resoundingly rejected.
By a nobody, no less.
Sal raced out of his office after she was gone and hovered over Hayley’s desk. “So what was that all about?”
“Come on, Sal, you were back there hanging on every word,” Hayley laughed.
“Okay, okay, but why did you turn down that sweet offer? I thought Penelope Janice was your idol!”
“She was. Until I actually spent time with her and realized the depths she would go to to keep building on her fame and fortune. At the expense of other people. Sometimes it’s not a very good idea to get such a close-up look at your heroes. They’re bound to disappoint you.”
Sal thought this over and seemed to agree because he nodded slightly, but she could tell he still wasn’t completely getting it.
“Penelope may not have committed a serious crime, at least one she could be convicted for,” Hayley said, trying one more time to explain. “But her behavior wasn’t worthy of anyone’s admiration.”
“You’re something else,” Sal said. “Saying no on principle like that. I may never get my head around you turning down all that money from what was sure to be a best-selling book!”
Hayley smiled.
“You’re a good person, Hayley,” Sal said, putting his arm around her as she stood up from her desk.
“Not really.”
“Yes, you are,” Sal insisted.
“Really, I’m not.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I am about to burst into tears thinking about all that money I’m never going to see,” Hayley said, her lip quivering.
Sal burst into laughter and led her toward the door. “Come on, I’ll buy you a drink at your brother’s bar.”
“It may have to be more than one,” she said, sniffling.
“As many as it takes. Don’t worry. I will do my best to help you forget this ever happened.”
And with his fatherly arm around her shoulder, they walked out the door.
Chapter 34
Sal was true to his word.
By the third round at Drinks Like a Fish, Hayley was feeling much better. She rarely went out drinking with her boss.
And she often wondered why.
Sal was rough around the edges and sometimes moody, but overall he was a fun guy.
The bar was buzzing with activity, and she barely saw Randy, who stayed mostly in the kitchen cooking items from his new happy-hour food menu. Michelle, his loyal bartender of nine years, was desperately trying to keep up with all the drink orders. All of the tables were full and there was only one stool at the bar that was not occupied.
Sal and Hayley sat at the far end of the bar, with a clear view of the front door. When Bruce entered and stopped at a nearby table to say hello to some friends, Hayley tried catching his eye, waving at him, but he was engaged in conversation and didn’t see her.
“You really want Bruce to join us?” Sal asked, staring at the bottom of his glass before swallowing the last of his bourbon.
Hayley reacted, surprised. “Yes. Why? You don’t?”
“Bruce is all right. I just didn’t think you two got along. I’m not the only one at the office who thinks that.”
“No, we get along just fine,” Hayley said, suddenly curious about the gossip obviously flying around the office about her and Bruce. “Whatever gave you, and the entire Island Times staff apparently, that impression?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the fact you spend most days arguing like an old married couple.”
Married couple?
Well, that was just ridiculous.
“Bruce and I have had our differences in the past, but we’ve managed to settle into a pleasant, low-key tolerance of one another. He’s mellowed a bit over the last couple of years, and isn’t so much of a self-involved jerk anymore.”
“High praise indeed.”
“No, really. I’ve grown fond of him.”
“I see,” he said, smiling at Michelle, who refilled his glass with bourbon. He splashed the
bourbon around in his glass before taking a healthy swig.
“So what else does the staff think of me and Bruce?” Hayley asked.
“We better not get into that here.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s heading over in this direction right now.”
Hayley spun around on her stool to see Bruce approaching, a laconic smile on his face as he politely asked Buster, a grizzled fisherman with a beard that went all the way down to his belly button, to slide over to the empty stool next to him so Bruce could sit next to Hayley. Buster begrudgingly agreed, snorting a reply as he downed his beer, leaving foam in his beard as he moved.
“Evening,” Bruce said, glancing back and forth between Hayley and Sal, dying to know why they were out together and why he had not been invited to join them.
Sal raised his glass. “Bruce.”
Bruce flagged down Michelle and ordered a bottle of Stella Artois.
Michelle turned to Sal. “Another bourbon?”
“No. I’m out,” Sal said, gripping the edge of the bar and sliding his bulk off the stool. “Wife’s got dinner waiting at home.”
“Was it something I said?” Bruce asked, a slight frown on his face.
“Nope, not at all. It’s a school night so I have to get out of here before I have the one that gets me to the tipping point where I end up staying until last call. You two have a nice night,” Sal said, winking at them.
What was he up to?
Why was he leaving so suddenly?
He never mentioned racing home to dinner before Bruce’s arrival.
“See you tomorrow, Sal,” Hayley said.
Sal clapped Bruce on the back. “Good luck, Linney.”
He ambled out of the bar.
“What do you need luck for?” Hayley wanted to know.
Bruce didn’t answer her.
Michelle dropped off Bruce’s Stella Artois and he gulped half of it down, his Adam’s apple popping in and out as he swallowed.
Hayley laughed watching him guzzle down his beer so fast.
He appeared so nervous and she couldn’t understand why.
And then, without warning, he blurted out, “Do you want to have dinner with me?”
“Tonight? It’s kind of late . . .”