by Ingrid Thoft
The brunette beamed, and a sly smile crept across the blonde’s face.
“You’ll be interacting with important, powerful people, and of course, your earnings will reflect that.” Bev took a sip of her drink. It was a poor substitute for Southern tea; the Yankees hadn’t yet mastered her favorite thirst quencher.
“Doesn’t that sound exciting?” she asked, and smiled sweetly.
“So, what’s the update?” Frank asked as he leaned over and speared a hot dog with his fork. It was five forty-five P.M., and dinner was on at the Gillis house. Frank and Peg ate every night at five forty-five, which seemed ridiculously early to Fina, but she supposed if you got out of bed before six in the morning, you were more than ready for dinner before six in the evening. Peg passed a basket of rolls to Fina. She broke one off and slathered it with butter.
“Melanie was in Cambridge at four P.M. Wednesday afternoon. That was the last confirmed sighting, although I’ve got a witness who claims he saw her in the North End just after five.”
“A reliable witness?” Frank asked as he scooped up a forkful of frank and beans.
“Are they ever?” Fina asked.
“How’s everyone holding up?” Peg asked. She was wearing a tracksuit, which was her usual uniform outside of work. Peg was a middle school nurse in Newton and generally wore some kind of scrubs on the job. Lots of people assumed that being a middle school nurse was easy and that she spent her days handing out cough drops, but that wasn’t the case. Nowadays, being a school nurse meant you dealt with all kinds of diagnoses—ADHD, celiac disease, diabetes—and their attendant medications, as well as the scourge of alcohol and drug abuse that was more rampant than ever. Not to mention sliced fingers in bio lab and concussions on the blacktop. Peg was tough but loving, a perfect combination for her job.
“They’re fine. The usual. Vacillating between pretending everything is okay and imagining the worst-case scenario.”
“What about Haley?” Peg was always most interested in the younger members of the Ludlow family.
“I haven’t really seen her, but when I did she seemed okay.” Peg opened her mouth to speak, but Fina held up her hand. “Trust me. I know there’s no way she could be okay, given the circumstances, but I’m doing the best I can. She’s impossible to track down, and that doesn’t seem to bother my brother. When your boys were teenagers, you knew where they were, right?”
Frank took a drink of milk and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I may have been the cop and the PI, but Peg was just as vigilant about their whereabouts.” He sat back in his chair. “You don’t want to suffocate them, but you know, their brains . . .”
“. . . aren’t fully developed,” Peg finished. “They act so much older than they actually are, but they make terrible decisions.”
“And her parents aren’t exactly models of good decision making,” Fina noted. “Haley’s battling biology on two fronts.”
“There’s only so much you can do,” Peg commented, squeezing Fina’s hand.
“I know,” Fina said, and smiled at Peg. “That’s what worries me.”
Fina had the first inkling on Route 9 near the mall. It was a black Toyota Camry, three cars behind her in the other lane. She couldn’t get a good look at the driver, but was pretty sure it was a man. She changed lanes, and so did he, but that didn’t mean anything. To be sure she had a new friend, she took the next exit into the residential streets of Chestnut Hill. The Camry rolled up two cars behind her at the bottom of the ramp. She did a circuit through the winding roads dotted with large lots and looming houses, and although he kept his distance, he stuck with her.
Fina got back on Route 9 and threaded her way through Newton. The Camry dropped back. Fina called Milloy.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“I just finished with a client in Back Bay.”
“Fuck.”
“What is it?”
“Some guy’s following me. I wanted you to tail him.”
“Where are you?”
Fina braked sharply as a motorcyclist pulled out in front of her. “Newton, heading toward the Pike.”
“I don’t think I can catch up with the traffic.”
“All right.”
“What are you going to do?” Milloy asked.
“I think I’ll test his level of commitment. See what kind of a relationship he wants to have with me.”
“That sounds like a bad idea. How about driving to a police station instead?”
“That’s plan B, but he’ll take off if I do that. I want to find out who he is.”
“Be careful.”
“Don’t be such a worrywart. I’ll be fine.” Fina ended the call before Milloy could question her further.
Getting on the highway would give Fina and her tail more room. With some fancy maneuvering, she might even get behind him and get his tag info. She passed through the toll booth and settled into the middle lane. It was the end of rush hour, and for the first few miles, Fina and the Camry covered little distance at twenty miles per hour. At the second set of toll booths, though, traffic eased, and Fina sped up to seventy.
After ten minutes and a few lane changes, it was clear that their shared route wasn’t coincidental. Fina dropped her speed. He dropped his speed, but they both stayed over forty-five miles per hour. The last thing she needed was to attract a statie for failing to maintain the minimum speed limit. She stole glances at the man in the Camry. She didn’t recognize him—not that a glance in the rearview mirror at high speed is much to go on. He looked to be in his thirties or forties, thickset, with dark curly hair.
She sped up, and he grimaced and fiddled with something on the passenger seat. Fina reached into her purse and pulled out her gun. The speed limit would be the least of her problems if the guy started shooting at her on the highway, but instead of a gun, he brought a phone to his ear and engaged in an animated conversation. She slowed down again, as did he. After two minutes, he threw down the phone and gripped the wheel with both hands.
Fina maintained her speed, and they drove for ten more minutes. This wasn’t going anywhere, except western Massachusetts, so she decided to cut her losses and get rid of him. She needed to dart off an exit when it was too late for him to follow, or even drive to a police station where she could act all damsel in distress. She was formulating her plan, but noticed that he was gaining in speed. The speedometer rose steadily, and the hairs on Fina’s neck stood on end. The Camry was bearing down on her. Fina depressed the gas, her heartbeat picking up speed at the same time.
Maybe he wasn’t tailing her after all.
Maybe he was trying to kill her.
It wasn’t the first time Fina had found herself hanging upside down from her seat belt, glass fragments sparkling in her hair, but the last time she’d been knocked out for the event. Loss of consciousness was definitely the way to go, she thought, as the firefighters pulled her from her mangled car. She was relatively unscathed, despite the dramatic scene, but Carl was a big fan of documentation when it came to accidents and mishaps, so Fina didn’t protest being loaded into an ambulance and driven to Mass General.
The next couple of hours were a mix of quiet alone time in a thin paper gown and bursts of noise and activity perpetrated by strangers in shades of blue and green. She was waiting for CAT scan results when Scotty arrived.
“What happened?” he asked.
“I was run off the road.” She looked at her arms, which were scratched. Her left hand was bandaged.
“By?”
“I don’t know. Can you find my clothes?”
“You’re not supposed to go anywhere.”
Fina pushed herself into a sitting position and groaned. Her back muscles felt sore and tight. “Fucking A, that hurts.” She hobbled over to a metal closet and pulled open the doors. “You could help me, you know.”
Scotty
walked over to the storage cabinet and pulled out a stack of scrubs. “What size are you?”
“Let’s try medium.”
Fina leaned on Scotty as she pulled on a pair of the drawstring pants. “Where’s my bra?”
“Don’t look at me.”
“All right. Turn around for a sec, but don’t move.”
Scotty put his back to her, and she leaned into him while stripping off the johnny and pulling on the top of the scrubs. She walked over to a mirror and was not pleased with what she saw. She had a bruise under her eye and a butterfly bandage near her hairline.
Carl walked in and stopped when he saw her in scrubs. “What? Now you want me to pay for medical school?”
“Ha,” Fina said.
“Have you been released?”
“Not technically.”
“Then get back in the goddamn bed.” Carl pointed at her. “If they say you’re fine, you can leave, but I don’t need you taking off and dying from a clot or something.”
“Although that would make a good lawsuit,” Scotty offered, and Fina gave him the hairy eyeball. She climbed back onto the bed and pulled the thin blanket over her. She shivered.
“Get your sister a blanket,” Carl told Scotty, who left the room. “What happened?”
“A guy was tailing me. I led him onto the Pike to try to deal with him, and he ran me off the road.”
“Any idea who it was?”
“Nope.”
Lieutenant Pitney burst through the swinging door of the exam room. “I see you’re up for visitors.” She was followed by her usual trailing police parade, like a law enforcement Make Way for Ducklings.
“He’s not a visitor. He’s family,” Fina said.
“And counsel,” Carl added.
“Why would you need counsel?” Pitney asked.
Scotty came back into the room and pushed his way past two other cops and Cristian, who was hovering in the corner of the room. Fina glanced at him as Scotty laid a blanket over her.
“I always feel better with my attorney present,” Fina said.
“What happened?” Pitney asked. Cristian and the other two pulled out their notebooks.
“She was in a car accident on the Pike,” Carl said. “Hardly warrants your expertise, Lieutenant.”
“That’s flattering, Carl. Really, it is.” She smiled. “Do you know who hit you?”
“No.”
“Did the car hit you on purpose?”
“Who’s to say?” Carl asked, opening his hands to the ceiling. “Boston drivers are notoriously bad.”
A tiny Asian woman in scrubs came through the door and walked to the side of the bed. “There are way too many people in here. Everybody needs to leave.”
“Who are you?” Carl asked.
“I’m the attending, Dr. Wang. Who are you?”
Fina watched as Carl and the doctor had a staring contest.
“I think we can all agree that Ms. Ludlow’s health is the number one priority, yes?” Dr. Wang asked the assembled group.
“Of course, Doctor. The police are only interested in apprehending the perpetrator,” Pitney said.
Carl broke his gaze from the doctor. “We’ll be outside, Fina.” He opened the door leading to the hallway and beckoned to Pitney. She walked through, followed by Scotty, the two cops, and Dr. Wang. Cristian lingered in the corner.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’ve been worse.”
“Your car rolled four times. Pretty impressive.”
“I look like I rolled four times.”
“Don’t worry. We can do it with the lights off,” Cristian said, and grinned.
Fina held up her bandaged palm. “I think I’m on the DL for a little while.”
Cristian walked over and put his hand on her arm. “You really don’t know who did this?”
“I really don’t.”
He squeezed her shoulder gently and moved toward the door.
“But Cristian? It wasn’t an accident.”
“Of course it wasn’t, Fina. There are no accidents when it comes to you.”
The CAT scan was clear, and Fina went home, took a few Advil, and fell into bed. She slept deeply, except when she rolled over and her unhappy back muscles reasserted themselves. Shortly after the sun came up, she padded into the kitchen and got the OJ carton and a box of Pop-Tarts, which she took back to bed. She went back to sleep after two Pop-Tarts and a few chugs of juice.
The clock said 11:24 A.M. when she next woke. Two more Advil made a shower and dressing manageable, and then Fina got down to the garage before remembering that she’d totaled her car the night before. Luckily, Carl, in his quest for constant productivity, had left one of the Ludlow and Associates fleet cars in her space. Lack of transportation would not be an adequate excuse for failing to get the job done.
Driving was no easy task with her aches and pains; individually, some pulled muscles, a cut hand, and a constellation of scratches and bruises weren’t too problematic, but put together, they made the job more taxing. Fina pulled up to the Whittaker Club twenty minutes later and sat in her car for a few moments, gathering her physical strength.
The Whittaker Club had been a part of the Ludlows’ lives as long as Fina could remember. She’d grown up swimming in the pool, playing tennis on the courts, and stealing golf carts after hours to careen around the back nine with boys who were up to no good. Family events were often celebrated at the club, including Rand and Melanie’s wedding, and during the summer months, the Ludlows gathered there in various configurations for poolside meals. Fina didn’t spend much time there given that she fit in like a nun at Mecca. Her contemporaries were generally stay-at-home moms with large broods or the occasional career woman who worked in medicine or law—corporate, not personal injury. Fina stopped by every few weeks to catch up with whichever family member was hanging out, but these forays were strictly political on her part. If Fina wanted to relax, she was better served by a trip to the shooting range.
She heard laughter and splashing as she walked around the tall hedges and entered the pool area. The pool deck was littered with chaise longues, and an attendant navigated through them, claiming the discarded towels. The eating area was on a flagstone patio off to the side, between the pool and the main clubhouse. Fina scanned the pool and saw Patty standing at the edge of the deep end. Fina noticed some stares and whispers as she walked the length of the pool.
“Hey, Patty,” Fina said, and leaned in for a kiss on the check.
Patty wrinkled her nose. “Christ, you do not look good.”
“Trust me, I don’t feel good.”
“I’m glad you’re okay.” She leaned toward Fina and asked in a quiet voice, “Any news?”
“Some leads, but nothing major. Scotty says you’re freaking out about Melanie.”
Patty spoke to a wet head bobbing in the water. “Out. I mean it. Your lunch is almost ready.” She looked at Fina. “Scotty is such a drama queen. I’m frantic, if you want to know the truth, but when have I ever freaked out?”
“That’s what I said.” Fina took a step back from the sopping child who had launched himself onto the pool deck. “Hey, Teddy.”
“Hi, Aunt Fina,” he said. “Cool black eye.” He grabbed a towel from Patty’s hand and ran over toward the eating area, where Fina could see her other nephews, Chandler and Ryan.
“Do you want something to eat? A drink?” Patty asked.
“Just some water and some information would be great.”
They made their way over to the boys, who alternated between slouching down in their seats and perching on their knees like dogs anxious for a treat. A waitress brought out a large tray of food, and the boys dug in.
“You never feed them, do you?” Fina asked as she watched them scarf down French fries and chicken fingers.
> “Never,” Patty said. She cut into a salmon fillet.
Fina watched the waitress attend to the other tables. The club was probably a decent place to work, but there was something perverse about adults attending to young children, beyond the fulfillment of their basic needs, that is. Changing a diaper, bathing little kids—they couldn’t do those things for themselves. But making a chocolate shake thicker or fetching a warm towel? Fina always felt uncomfortable with that degree of servitude.
“So what kind of information do you need?” Patty asked.
“Is it okay to talk about it with them here?” Fina asked and nodded toward her nephews, who were chewing and telling jokes at the same time.
“Chew with your mouths closed, you monkeys,” Patty said. “We can talk if we’re quiet.”
Fina scooted her chair a little closer to Patty’s. “Do you think Melanie was seeing someone?” She fumbled with the straw wrapper until Patty came to her rescue.
“You mean ‘seeing someone,’ seeing someone?”
“Yeah.”
Patty took a sip of her raspberry lime rickey. “I don’t think so. Why? Do you think she was?”
“No, but I need to cover all the bases.”
Patty sat back and thought for a moment. “Shit. What a mess.”
“Mom!” Chandler exclaimed.
Patty waved him away. “I can’t imagine she was having an affair, but who knows.”
“Anyway, could she have been . . .” Fina made a gesture mimicking a protruding stomach.
“She would have been thrilled, but I think she would have told me.”
“That’s what Risa said.”
“You asked Risa these questions?” Patty asked, her eyebrow cocked.
“Yes.”
“Carl isn’t going to like that.”
Fina stirred the lime to the bottom of her water. “I can’t find Melanie without asking questions. I’m not asking anything that the police aren’t asking or going to ask.”
