“Not according to him. He said he has proof that one of the other members of your group was also involved.”
“But we were all exonerated by the FBI.”
“James took the fall for somebody, Tom. I don’t know who and I don’t know why, but he says that he did. I think he’s blackmailing someone with the proof he has, and I think they want him dead.”
“You have to be wrong,” he said. “These were my friends, Callie, they weren’t killers. Didn’t you say that you’re still waiting for an analysis of this thing, this asthma inhaler?”
“Yes. I expect to hear back this week. But in the meantime, I’m starting to get worried.”
I explained about the return address, the name of “Pearl Gates.” Tom seemed to calm down after that, and I had to admit that upon the retelling it did sound a little silly. Maybe there really was a person named Pearl Gates, and they just accidentally typed her address in wrong.
“Here’s what I’ll do,” he said. “Just to be safe, I’ll see that James gets temporarily reassigned to a different facility.”
“That’ll set off too many warning bells. Can’t you just let him know to be careful? Can’t you just tell him to watch his back—and his inhaler?”
“He’s in a federal prison, Callie. It’s not like I can just call him up on the phone.”
“You have more contacts than anyone I have ever known,” I said. “I’m sure if you set your mind to it, you could find a way to get a message to him in prison.”
He agreed, finally, and though I knew he was reluctant to open doors that had long been closed, he also saw that there was no choice.
“How about you?” he asked before hanging up. “Are you all right?”
“I’m okay,” I said softly, “I miss you.”
I hung up without waiting for his reply. Then I tucked away my emotions and turned my attention to the investigation at hand.
There were still nearly two hours to kill before the meeting at Veronica’s house, so I spent them at the table in the hotel, working on the Family HEARTS file. Distraction really was the best medicine sometimes. By 6:50 in the evening, I had crossed off four criteria satisfactorily, determining that the organization served a worthwhile cause, adequately fulfilled their mission statement, was well rated by outside reporting sources, and had a good reputation among their peers. I had also rounded up appropriate salary ranges for nonprofits in the area, so I was ready to make that determination as soon as Veronica gave me all of the paperwork I had requested.
Beth had offered to give me a ride to Veronica’s house for the meeting that night, and I took her up on it, knowing that would give me another opportunity to spend some time with her. I waited for her out in front of the hotel, and when she pulled up I was surprised to see that the twins were also in the car. We chatted as Beth drove out of the French Quarter and into a section known as the Garden District.
It was definitely a ritzy area, and Beth pointed out some of the more notable homes as we went. She also filled me in a bit on Phillip and Veronica’s situation. She had already told me that Phillip’s family had been running a successful import-export business for several generations, but she said that now that he was at the helm of the company, it was more successful than ever.
“Do you think he misses the old days,” I asked, “working in computers?”
She laughed.
“Well, let’s see. He’s now rich, successful, runs a huge company, and has a beautiful wife and son to love. What do you think?”
“Guess not. You know, I think it’s interesting that the members of the Cipher Five have stayed friends all these years, considering what you went through way back when. I mean, you said there were so many arguments and things, not to mention the FBI investigation…”
I let my voice trail off. Beth glanced at the twins in the rearview mirror and chose her words carefully.
“Well, not all five,” she said. “The one who was incarcerated is definitely out of the picture for all of us. And Tom only comes around a few times a year, so he hasn’t exactly maintained all of these relationships. I mean, he sees the others when he’s in town, I guess, but usually just in passing.”
“Still, that leaves you and Phillip and Armand,” I said. “Three friends with a common past.”
She shrugged.
“Except when we’re getting ready for the fundraisers, I hardly ever see Armand anymore. He doesn’t like the city and only comes in when he has to. Phillip and I are fairly close because of our work together on the Family HEARTS network. Plus, his wife is one of my best friends. We all moved on past the friction of the Cipher Five years ago.”
She slowed and put on her blinker to turn onto a wide street lined on both sides with big homes and gorgeous, mature oaks.
“Not that it’s any of my business,” I said, “but what about the, um, extended family of the incarcerated one? Any contact there?”
I was thinking, of course, of Tilly in Georgia and the way she missed her grandchildren. Beth shook her head, glancing again at the kids.
“We were cut off,” she said. “Told not to have any contact. So we haven’t.”
Cut off? Told not to have any contact? Having spoken to Tilly, I knew that wasn’t true. So either Beth was lying, Tilly had lied, or James had somehow manipulated them both. With a surge of guilt, I realized I couldn’t tell Beth about my conversation with Tilly unless I came clean about a number of other things—and that I wasn’t ready to do.
“Told not to have any contact by whom?” I asked.
“The, um, other parent,” she replied. “But he was just relaying a message. His mom was very specific about her wishes.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Leah asked us.
“A TV show,” Beth replied easily.
“That’s boring,” Maddie said.
“So what are y’all gonna do with Tucker tonight?” Beth asked, changing the subject. “Did you remember to bring Candyland?”
They chattered as we turned into the driveway of a particularly grand home. We got out of the car and headed up the walk, and as we did I was a bit stunned by the opulence. The place was beautiful, with wide white columns and a veranda that spanned the porch. The inside of the home was incredible, with high ceilings and rich, antique furniture in every room. Veronica met us at the door and then led us through her magnificent home to what looked like a family room in the back. There were already about ten people there, and they were working in an assembly line fashion, putting together centerpieces for the fundraiser.
The twins went upstairs to find Tucker, and Beth and I were given places in the assembly line. The end product was a beautiful plant, the pot decorated with multicolored sequin hearts and gold and silver ribbon. My job was to use scissors to curl the ribbon.
As we worked, Veronica called the meeting to order. She sat perched on the arm of her husband’s chair, reading from a clipboard, and went through the agenda quickly and efficiently. It sounded as if she had everything under control, from the decorations to the caterer to the band to the auction. After a while I tuned out the discussion and focused on Phillip and Veronica.
They were certainly comfortable together, but it went beyond that. He seemed to draw a sort of energy from her presence, and every time she touched his shoulder or brushed the back of his hand, he leaned into her ever so slightly. As for her, she seemed to look to him for approval, flashing her wide eyes at him now and then, and nodding more assertively when he, too, was nodding. Were I a psychologist assigned the task of analyzing the health of their marriage based on body language, I would definitely give them a passing score.
We finally adjourned the meeting for pizza, but after just one slice Veronica called me aside, leading me to the luxurious master bedroom on the second floor. On the bed were six gorgeous evening gowns.
“My sister dropped these off this afternoon,” Veronica said. “Just in case you wanted to borrow something for the ball.”
“Borrow something?�
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“I didn’t think you would have any formal gowns with you.”
“No,” I said, stepping forward to get a better look. “I left my formal gowns at home.”
I was kidding, but she didn’t even realize it was a joke.
“I could loan you one of mine, but I’m a size four. I have a feeling you’ll do better in my sister’s eights. She’s a little more muscular, like you.”
Why did I suddenly feel like a big, manly hunk of beef standing next to a toothpick? I ignored the insult, but she must have seen my feelings flash across my face.
“I meant that as a compliment,” she said quickly. “My sister is a tennis player, so she has that same upper body development you have. I would kill for your biceps. Not to mention your calves.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling slightly mollified.
“Do you play tennis, Callie?”
I told her that no, my sport of choice was canoeing.
“But you’ve got great legs! You didn’t get those in a canoe.”
I smiled.
“Thanks, Veronica. I’ve been doing some rock climbing lately, so I guess that helps.”
“Rock climbing?” She studied me for a moment, a strange expression now crossing her face. “I understand. Well, why don’t you try on these dresses and see if you like anything. Did you meet Mai Li downstairs? She’s a seamstress, and she said she’d be willing to come up and fit something to you, if you’d like.”
“You brought in a seamstress for me?”
“No, she’s one of our volunteers. But when she saw my sister with the dresses and I told her what they were for, she offered to help.”
Veronica left me alone with the gowns, and I had to admit that they were very lovely. I locked the door, but before I tried on the dresses, I was tempted to search the room, just to see if I could find something that related to James Sparks—phone bills, FedEx receipts, scribbled notes, whatever. I doubted that anyone would be careless enough to leave anything like that around, however, so I gave up my idea and concentrated on the dresses. But as I pulled up the zipper on a sparkly peach number, my eyes alighted on a row of photo albums on a shelf under the window. I couldn’t resist.
The years were stamped in gold leaf on the spine, and so I grabbed the one from the year the Cipher Five was first formed. I flipped through the pages hastily, hoping to find a photo of the whole group. I spotted some pictures of James and Beth and one or two of Phillip, but mostly these were photos of Tom and Veronica. As I had thought, they looked gorgeous together, and it seemed that in every photo they were dressed up at some function.
I put that one back, pulled the next few years, and found more of the same. Eventually, however, the photos changed. There were no more familiar faces except for Veronica’s, and from the scenery behind her, I gathered that she was in Europe. One photo showed her sitting with a group of people at a café table. She was wearing sunglasses, looking kind of gaunt but glamorous, like a model. Her arm was hooked through a handsome man’s next to her, also in sunglasses. He looked familiar, and I had a feeling he was someone famous, probably a rock star. He sported a dark beard and long black hair, and a cigarette was casually held between two fingers.
A knock at the door startled me, and I quickly put the albums back. I opened the door to see Mai Li, the volunteer from downstairs, who had offered to alter the dress I chose.
“You didn’t come down,” she said, “so Veronica sent me up.”
“I’m sorry. I was just having so much fun trying on these dresses.”
“Is this the one you like?” she asked, reaching for the fabric at my waist. “It’s a bit wide in the shoulders.”
I glanced in the mirror and then back at the dresses on the bed.
“I just can’t decide,” I hedged. “Maybe you could help me pick.”
“Sure.”
We settled on a smaller, midnight blue Oscar de la Renta, with modest lace across the bodice and a trim waist that flowed out into ruffles of chiffon all the way to the ground. If I wore it, I would have to get the correct undergarments, not to mention the right kind of shoes, but I thought it would be worth the trouble. The dress was beautiful.
Mai Li said that all it would need was a small tuck at the waist, one simple modification that would give me a perfect fit. She marked the dress and then helped me take it off. As I changed back into my own clothes again, she borrowed needle and thread from Veronica and made the alteration on the spot.
The group had thinned out by the time we came back downstairs, with just Beth, Veronica, and Phillip sitting at the table. In front of them was some paperwork that looked as though it had to do with the auction, but they didn’t seem to be talking about that. As we came into the room, in fact, the conversation stopped completely.
“What is it?” I asked after an awkward silence. My heart pounded, wondering if they somehow knew I had gone snooping in their photo albums.
“Nothing,” Veronica said quickly. “Callie, Mai Li, would you like some more pizza?”
Mai Li said she had to be going, but I couldn’t ignore the odd glances the others were passing between them. As Veronica led Mai Li out, I looked Beth right in the eye.
“Beth?” I asked. “What’s going on?”
She busied herself with straightening the papers in front of her.
“Um, we were just talking about…”
“About rock climbing,” Phillip said, and then he grinned.
So that was it. I had mentioned the rock climbing to Veronica, and she put two and two together. Tom and I were an item.
Now they knew.
Thirty-Four
Except for a little bit of good-natured ribbing from Phillip, they let the subject drop. I was glad. I really wasn’t comfortable discussing our relationship with Tom’s ex-fiancée or his sister.
The girls fell asleep in the car on the way back to my hotel, however, and once they did, Beth seemed eager to talk about it. She told me she was feeling kind of stupid, because she should’ve guessed it sooner.
“I know my brother,” she said softly. “He never tells anybody anything, and yet you seem to know so much about his life and past. I should’ve figured out that you were more than just an employee.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you up front,” I said. “I was kind of leaving that to him.”
“Are you kidding? If you left it up to him, we might never have found out.”
“Maybe not.”
“Come on. Tom is one of those people you can carry on a full conversation with, and when you’re all done you realize you’ve gathered almost no information about him whatsoever. He’s like a master at conversing without really sharing any details.”
Man, had she ever hit the nail on the head! I couldn’t count the hours Tom and I had spent on the phone before I ever even knew his last name.
“I guess he got that from our father,” she added.
“Your father?”
“The king of evasion.”
“How so?” I asked, feeling stupid myself now. Truth be told, the only thing I knew about Tom’s father was that he had divorced their mother back in the ’70s and that he had been only a sporadic presence from then until his death a few years ago.
“Oh, Daddy used to pop in and out of our lives whenever he felt like it. You never knew where he had been or what he had been doing, but no matter how much you asked him about it or talked to him, he would never give you any details. When he passed away a few years ago, Tom and I got his personal effects. You can bet we devoured that stuff like starving children at a banquet.”
I felt a surge of sadness, picturing it.
“So, if I may ask,” I said, “what had your father been doing all that time? Where had he been?”
She shrugged, turning onto a wide, main street that seemed to lead toward the river.
“Nowhere special. Over the years, Tom and I had built up so many theories—that Daddy had a second family, that he was a secret agent, that he was a fugitive
from justice—but in the end it turned out that he had an apartment in Houston, a job selling valves to oil tankers, and an aging girlfriend named Lola. So much for the big mystery.”
I looked out at the dark storefronts we were passing. There were small trees planted in flower beds all along the street, each with odd, sparkly decorations among the branches.
“I’m sorry he wasn’t there for you,” I said. “That must’ve hurt.”
“It hurt worse when we found out there was no real reason for it. At the time he died, we hadn’t heard from him in about ten years. There’s no excuse for that. We’re just lucky our mom is such an amazing person. She was our rock. Still is.”
“I look forward to spending more time with her.”
Beth glanced at me and then back at the road.
“She doesn’t know either?” she asked. She put on her blinker to turn onto a side street, and as she did, I pointed to the trees along the side of the road.
“Sorry to interrupt,” I said, “but what’s that in the trees? That sparkly stuff?”
She dipped her head to look up and then smiled.
“Mardi Gras beads. This is a main parade route. Beads get stuck in the trees on Canal Street during Mardi Gras and stay there all year.”
I also had to smile, just imagining it.
“To answer your question, no. I don’t think she knows,” I said. “How do you think she’ll take it?”
Beth smiled.
“She likes you,” she said. “A lot. She told me so yesterday, after lunch.”
“That’s good. I really liked her too.”
And I liked Beth, though I had to wonder how she would react once she found out the connection that existed between me and her, that her ex-husband accidentally killed my husband—and went to prison for it for 16 years! Now that I had come to know her a little better, I was able to separate one from the other. I could only hope that if or when she learned the truth, she wouldn’t be angry with me for keeping something of such magnitude to myself.
“Mom’s been wishing for a long time that Tom would find a wife and settle down,” she said. “I think she’ll be thrilled.”
The Buck Stops Here Page 21
