Inherit the Wool

by Betty Hechtman

  “Meditation is helpful in all sorts of circumstances. I’m sure you’ll find this lesson very useful in this difficult time,” he continued. He sounded a little stiff, as if it was something he’d lifted from a book. My eyes were flitting back and forth between him and my friends, trying to read their reactions. None of them seemed enthused and Zak appeared downright wary.

  “So who wants to be first?” he said, moving his gaze over the group. I noticed that Elizabeth didn’t rush to raise her hand this time. Actually, nobody made a move. “I’ll pick then.” He pointed to Courtney. “How about you?”

  She looked to me for approval and I urged her to go.

  “She’s coming back, right?” Elizabeth said. “I mean, who would have figured that something would happen to Vanessa.” We were all watching through the window as the lieutenant and Courtney walked down the path toward the dunes.

  “Of course,” I said. Everyone but Zak went back to their knitting. He kept his eyes on the window for a long time, as if he was thinking about something.

  Courtney returned just as our workshop time was ending. Elizabeth seemed relieved to see her come back and everyone wanted to know how it had gone.

  “Okay, I guess. We sat on the beach and he told me to close my eyes and keep saying om to myself. He’s pretty nosy, though. All the way to the beach and back he kept asking me questions about myself and how I knew Vanessa.”

  She took her seat and went to pick up her knitting, but Crystal told her to leave it for now.

  “It’s always better not to leave your knitting in the middle of a row.” She suggested the rest of them finish a row and then pack up their work.

  Zak held up his knitting to show it off. “It’s not something I would wear,” he joked. “But it’s still pretty impressive if I say so myself. I can add knitter to my résumé now.” He was right about the impressive part. It was amazing to see how the three yarns worked together and became something new entirely. The big needles made for an interesting pattern of airy stitches that glittered with the silver and were filled with the fibers of the faux fur. Just as I was feeling relieved that Zak was back to being playful, he said something that made me uneasy.

  “Interesting about the cop,” he said to Courtney. “You make it sound almost like he was investigating.”

  It figured that Zak might see through the scam lessons. I had hoped not to make a point that Theodore was a cop, but now that Zak had brought it up, I had to do something quickly. “I think it’s really simple. He’s just so used to finding out about people, he can’t help himself. You can’t take the cop out of the meditator,” I said in a light tone. “Besides, there’s nothing to investigate,” I said. I looked around at them and wondered which of them knew that it wasn’t true.

  We had worked so long that it was already almost time for lunch. Crystal left and said she’d be back for our afternoon session. The group scattered and we agreed to meet in the dining hall. I went down the path toward the main part of Vista Del Mar, or the area I called the heart. The sky had a tinge of apricot as the sun tried to find a way through the clouds. The constant breeze off the ocean kept the air cool.

  I decided to make another attempt to reach Blair, and rather than go home I’d try the phone booths again. I had to squeeze past a big silver Legace SUV parked in the driveway near the door despite a prominent sign that said Loading and Unloading Only.

  As soon as I got inside I realized it was going to be a no-go on the phone call. All the phone booths were full and there was a line of people waiting to use them. A nature walk was just ending and the leader had brought the group back to where they’d first gathered. The seating area was full of people talking or reading. The game tables were occupied and several card games were going at the various tables around the large open room.

  It took a moment before I noticed Kevin St. John standing near the massive counter talking to a man. The manager saw me and waved me over. “Here she is,” the manager said as I got within earshot. I’d barely had time to give the guy the once-over, but it was long enough to realize he looked like no guest I’d ever seen at Vista Del Mar. He was wearing a blue sport jacket over white jeans, had longish blond streaked hair and wore tan suede driving shoes with no socks. When I got a look at his face, he looked vaguely familiar.

  “Casey Feldstein,” I said, holding out my hand. “What can I do for you?”

  “This is one of your people’s husband,” Kevin St. John said, dropping his voice to a whisper. “The one who tragically died.”

  “I’m so sorry—” I began before he interrupted me.

  “I don’t understand. Vanessa was fine when she left for your weekend.” He glanced around with distaste. “People her age don’t just die of heart attacks. Somebody was negligent.”

  Kevin swooped back in. “I can understand how you feel, but your wife was rushed to the hospital as soon as Casey discovered there was a problem. Casey can give you all the details since she’s the responsible party for the retreat.”

  I knew exactly what Kevin St. John was doing. He was trying to shift the problem off of Vista Del Mar onto me. I didn’t want to stand there and discuss it and looked for a place to take him. Some space had opened up in the seating area, and though there was no hint there now of what had happened, I knew I would feel too uncomfortable telling him about Vanessa in the very spot where it had all gone down.

  I suggested the café and he followed me, looking around the interior of the Lodge and making disparaging sounds just the way Vanessa had. The place was quite busy but I found a table in the corner, where I thought we’d have a little privacy. He touched the cane-back chair with distaste before he sat down.

  I offered to get us drinks, thinking along the lines of a couple of cups of coffee. Instead he asked for a ridiculously customized drink. Really? Two shots of espresso with three tablespoons of steamed one percent milk and sprinkled with a teaspoon of cocoa powder and cinnamon blended together? The only good part of his ridiculous order was that it gave me some time to think while Stan made it.

  The first thought that came to mind was that he should probably be added to the suspect list. It was common knowledge that spouses were number one in that area, and even though it appeared that he’d only recently arrived, I knew that the contact number Vanessa had left was his cell phone. Lieutenant Borgnine had mentioned reaching him in his car as he was on his way to the airport. But who knew if that was true or where he’d really been when he’d gotten the call from the hospital.

  I kept referring to him as him in my mind and realized he’d never given me his name. Vanessa had still been going by her maiden name for obvious reasons since all the car dealerships were Peyton something or other. I tried to remember the mouthful of last names Lieutenant Borgnine had used for Vanessa since the last one was his, but I came up empty. And Vanessa had never referred to him by name, just number.

  As I moved up in the line, I glanced back at Vanessa’s husband. He’d taken out his cell phone and was looking at the screen with a confused expression. I was sure he’d just discovered that there was no signal. I tried to remember what Vanessa had said about him.

  I thought she’d made him sound like a house-husband and said that he took care of her daughter. So, she was the money, but looking at his clothes and manner, it was obvious he enjoyed the perks. Then my mind flitted to what he could gain if she died. There was probably a prenup, so he wouldn’t inherit the works, but he could have a nice insurance policy. Maybe he was tired of being Mr. Vanessa.

  One thing I knew from the past and what I’d seen recently, Vanessa had to be in charge. Even with the Baller-rinas. She’d insisted on all the extra practices at her house and even been the one to come up with our lame Westside Story routine.

  The order for his lah-di-dah espresso drink and my black coffee was finally ready. When I turned to go back to the table, I saw someone sitting in my seat. As I got closer, I saw that it was Elizabeth and she appeared stunned.

  “You’re Va
nessa’s husband,” she shrieked.

  Seeing them together jogged my memory and the pieces fell into place. I had to change his look to scruffy jeans and long dark hair, along with knocking off a few years before I recognized him as the guy Elizabeth had so proudly introduced as her boyfriend back in college. It was in our senior year and she had confided to us that all the signs were there and she expected to be engaged before graduation. Typical Elizabeth had everything already planned out. They’d have a small wedding, but we’d all be her bridesmaids.

  The everything went way beyond the wedding. She’d picked out the perfect place for them to live. It had reasonable rent, a view of Lake Michigan and a good address. He was a business major and she was already planning how she’d help him set up job interviews. She never said it, but I’m sure she had come up with a timeline of when they’d buy a house and have kids.

  I had to search my mind to remember why that hadn’t all happened. And then I got a mental picture of a rainy night at a downtown restaurant that had become our hangout. Elizabeth was in tears telling us that they’d broken up and that after graduation he was going off to travel—alone.

  Now I knew his name was Michael Ryerson and could stop mentally referring to him as him. I reached the table and put the drinks down. I didn’t know what to say and finally came up with the lamest of statements: “Small world, isn’t it?”

  Michael narrowed his eyes and reached for his drink. For the first time I got a good look at his face and noted that his had the same glossy, polished appearance that Vanessa’s had, which I assumed came from getting a lot of facials.

  Elizabeth pushed the chair back and got up. “I can’t believe that she bought you.” She sounded angry, hurt and rather theatrical.

  I reclaimed my seat and Elizabeth left. “I thought she knew. I thought Vanessa told all of you we were married,” Michael said, watching her go.

  I tested my coffee to make sure it wasn’t too hot and then took a sip. “I didn’t know, though I can’t speak for the others.”

  “Well, Blair certainly knew,” he said. “She must be crushed about Vanessa.”

  “I’m sure she will be when she hears.” I explained about not being able to talk to her yet.

  “I thought she was here,” he said, instinctively looking around, as if she’d pop from behind a table.

  “She was a last-minute no-show.” Then I had an idea. “It sounds like she was a lot closer to Vanessa and you than to me. Maybe it would be better if you called her.”

  “I’m sure she’d take it better coming from you.” He looked across the café to the path Elizabeth had taken to leave. “What’s her problem?” he said. “It was years ago that we hung out.” He took a sip of his custom drink. “I don’t know what went on in her head, but frankly, I never thought of anything long-term with her.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was upset that Elizabeth seemed angry or if it was what she said about him being bought. But either way I wanted to hear more. It was partly to see what information I could find out about Vanessa and partly that I was just plain nosy.

  When I worked for Frank, my job was getting people to give me information they didn’t necessarily want to give. I was good at getting people to talk and they often revealed things they probably had no intention of letting out. I wanted to work my magic on Michael and get him to spill everything. I apologized for not recognizing him immediately. “You’ve changed a bit,” I said, making it seem like it was all for the better. I reached over and offered him an understanding touch on his hand. “You know Elizabeth. She’s always planning everything out and she has all these expectations of how things should be. I’m sure you must know she had created a whole script for your future together.”

  His expression relaxed as he realized he had a sympathetic ear and I knew that I was in. “I would have thought she’d be over all that by now.”

  I nodded as if I was totally in agreement with him. “How did you end up with Vanessa?”

  Any wall that he’d had around himself had melted and he looked at me directly and began to talk. “A couple of years ago I ran into Vanessa at an alumni event. She was getting an award because the Legace dealership had donated money to rehab the student lounge and of course name it after them.” He made a face. “That’s Vanessa, everything comes with a price.” For a moment he seemed upset with what he’d said and he rushed to soften it.

  “I just meant that she always had a win-win attitude. The school got the updated area and the dealership and her family got to advertise their name and their philanthropy.”

  “That’s certainly a nice spin to put on it,” I said. He seemed relieved at my comment and I saw him let his breath out.

  “I’m glad you understand.” He picked up the paper cup and drank from it. “Elizabeth was there, too. I ran into her when we were both hitting the refreshment table. She really laid it on thick on how great her life was. She claimed she had some big job at a nonprofit doing fund-raising. Suddenly she got all uptight and then pointed to some guy in a suit and said he was her boyfriend and that he got jealous if he saw her talking to another guy. She said something about me calling her and pushed her business card on me.”

  He shrugged his shoulders and made sure I understood that Elizabeth had probably made up the story about the guy. I sensed he was doing whatever he could to discredit her because of what she’d said. And I also suspected it was the truth

  “I went up to congratulate Vanessa after she got the award and we got talking. We ended up going out for a drink and we hit it off right away. She was recently divorced and looking for some company. I was between jobs and had some time.” He stopped himself. “She didn’t buy me. We came to an arrangement. You probably know she wasn’t one of those people to give it all up for love. Everything for her was about that car dealership and proving herself to her father. He’s real old-school and had a hard time accepting that a woman could run a dealership. Even after everything she’s done, he still held back on making her president. She was so sure she’d figured out how to finally make him see her worth.”

  I was listening to what he said, but maybe even more to how he said it. He seemed awfully controlled for someone whose wife had suddenly died. And then his conversation made an abrupt turn and I wondered if somehow he’d been able to read what I was thinking.

  “I don’t know why I’m going on about Elizabeth and the car dealership. I want to know what happened to Vanessa. I keep getting double-talk. I was told she died from a heart attack, but the cause of death hadn’t been determined yet.”

  “When they say cause of death, they mean was it natural, homicide, or accidental. Sometimes it ends up inconclusive,” I explained.

  “But she died from a heart attack. How could it be anything but natural?” He sounded a little frantic, which I took as a mark against his innocence. It seemed likely that whoever had killed Vanessa had counted on it being considered natural. It was only because of Dr. Gendel’s experience as a diver that he’d caught the signs that made him think it was an air bubble.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” I said, trying to sound understanding. I’d found that appearing understanding had worked like a charm when I was trying to find out information during my time as an assistant detective. Well, detective’s assistant, according to Frank. Once people thought I was on their side they would tell me all kinds of stuff, usually much more than I needed to know.

  I was preparing to see what else I could find out from Michael about Vanessa when I noticed that Lieutenant Borgnine had just come into the café, and he’d obviously seen me. He crossed the room and stopped next to our table.

  I had no choice but to introduce the two men to each other. Lieutenant Borgnine’s eyes lit up when he realized who Michael was and I was sure he was thinking the same thing I had about spouses being the number-one suspects. But I absolutely didn’t want him to start giving Michael the third degree and give away that Vanessa’s death was suspicious.

  I quickly jumped in and e
xplained to Michael about Borgnine’s new mission to teach the world to meditate. “I’m sure he’d be happy to give you a lesson.” I locked eyes with the cop, who was back to wearing the rumpled herringbone sport jacket that was his regular attire. I winked a few times, hoping he’d pick up to keep it cool.

  For just a second his mouth registered annoyance and then he winked back at me. “I know about your loss and I’m sure some time on the beach meditating would help you deal with things.” The lieutenant actually put his arm through Michael’s and helped him up and the two men went toward the door. I heard Michael muttering something about not wanting to ruin his shoes.

  I drained my coffee cup and was taking a moment to think over what had just happened. Dane came up to the table, startling me as he leaned down to get into my line of sight. His brows were furrowed and he seemed distressed. “Geez Louise, you and the lieutenant now?” When I didn’t get what he was talking about, he elaborated. “The winking back and forth. I saw you two. So you’re trying to use the flirting thing on him now and he fell for it?” He rocked his head with dismay.

  Before I could say anything, he continued. “Neither one of you are any good at it either. You two couldn’t have been more obvious.”

  I looked to see if Dane was teasing, but he seemed genuinely upset. “You need to let me explain,” I said. “But not here.” I didn’t feel comfortable talking in the café. Even though there was no one around from my group, someone could show up without me realizing it. I stood up and grabbed the two cups off the table and suggested we go for a walk. And maybe I had an ulterior motive.

  “Sounds good to me,” Dane said. His face had softened into a smile. It was lucky that Dane was a small-town cop. He’d never mastered the bland cop face any more than Lieutenant Borgnine had.

  “Where should we walk?” he said when we got outside. I pointed at the boardwalk that led through the sand dunes and Dane was agreeable. I would have thought that Dane was just a happy-go-lucky sort of guy if I didn’t know his history. He had character to spare.