by Nancy Grace
“Yes, I believe it is,” Hailey murmured back, holding her eye.
“Oh, it definitely is. And truer words were never spoken. Of course, he’s too good for the people. They can’t possibly appreciate a man of his stature. And now . . . this . . . this scandal threatening it all.”
Still holding her coffee, Hailey looked up from the photo of Eunah and the judge and took a pretend sip of the vile brew. “What scandal?”
“Why Hailey, you were there that day. I’m positive I saw you. The day that woman, Eleanor Odom, the bottled blonde? The day she threw herself on the floor and passed away right there in the lunch crowd in the county cafeteria. Of course, she went and did it when she had an audience.”
“And she was so young.”
“Not as young as she’d have you believe, mark my words. That Eleanor Odom is no spring chicken! She’s thirty if she’s a day!”
Hailey suppressed a smile. In her book, thirty was young. She managed to nod her head. “You think so?”
“Oh, yes, I do. But the judge wouldn’t believe it. He was blind to her . . . her ways . . . if you know what I mean.” Eunah Mabry gave a knowing nod and her eyes narrowed. “You know, always buzzing around his chambers, especially just as court would be ending and everyone going home. I would stay at my desk and catch up on busy work just to keep her away from the judge. Oh, she loved to corner him alone and throw herself . . . throw herself at him.”
“No!” Hailey really didn’t have to say much at all to keep Eunah Mabry going.
“And the makeup and the perfume. She never once set foot at that courthouse without being positively painted up like an Indian on the warpath. The rouge, the eye shadow, the lipstick. It was so overdone. Ghastly, really. And the perfume. I’d know that smell anywhere . . . something cheap.”
“Oh, dear.” Hailey was actually interested.
She mentally recalled the moment she’d seen Eleanor Odom coming down the ramp to the cafeteria. She wasn’t overdone at all. She looked lovely, young, and full of life with a fairly natural beauty and perfectly applied makeup. Nothing like what Mabry was describing, not that Hailey could vouch for how the woman smelled.
“Oh, and there were plenty of times I’d beat the judge in to work and I’d smell it. Oh yes I did, I smelled it.”
Hailey leaned forward in her seat across from Eunah on the sofa. “Smelled what?”
Eunah reached out for a cigarette, lit it with a black plastic lighter from the coffee table, inhaled deeply, and, pursing her lips as if she were whistling to her left, exhaled to the side. Her eyes narrowed again, and in the morning light Hailey could easily see the smoker’s wrinkles etched forever around her mouth and eyes.
“That horrible perfume. She positively reeked of it. I’d know it anywhere. It would be hanging like a shroud in his office.” Her words were barely above a whisper now . . . more like a hiss.
“Interesting use of words . . . hanging like a shroud. Why do you say that?”
Slightly taken aback, Eunah paused, tapping her cigarette into a china ashtray stuffed with cigarette butts, presumably from the night before when she’d obviously fallen asleep on the sofa with a glass of wine. Or glasses.
“I really don’t know why I said that. I guess because . . . I always thought she’d kill the judge before she’d let him go.”
“So they were having an affair?” Hailey looked her square in the face when she asked, gauging Mabry’s reaction.
“I would never say that about a man as fine and true as the judge! He was too good, too pure, too . . . too . . . honorable! But oh, she wanted to! There may have been a moment where he slipped . . . slightly . . . but what man wouldn’t when they’re chased? Hunted like an animal in the forest?”
Hailey glanced back at the photo of Regard on the coffee table. He looked like anything but a hunted animal. Young, tanned, muscular, and athletic-looking. He had a vibrant smile. His upper lip was thin, his lower curved to accent perfectly even white teeth. His dark brown eyes seemed to glow back at the camera. It was hard to imagine this man being the prey, not the predator.
“I mean what normal, red-blooded man wouldn’t give in? After all, he’s only human. But I assure you . . . it was all her. I assure you. All her!”
Without thinking, Eunah Mabry lifted the wine glass from the coffee table instead of her coffee, held it up as if in a toast, and drained the tiny bit of wine left in the bottom. Hailey stared, saying nothing. Mabry slammed the wine glass back on the table almost defiantly, her anger and loathing boiling just beneath the surface.
The hate in her voice, the sofa-matted hair hanging in scraggly tendrils around her face, the smeared lipstick, the stink of old cigarettes combined with a glint of pure malice in her voice all combined to give Eunah Mabry the appearance of being . . . somewhat maniacal.
Or maybe she wasn’t. Maybe Mabry was simply an aging woman, living alone, lonely and disliking it. Likely scorned—or worse, not even noticed—by the man she appeared to have loved for many years, Judge Bill Regard.
“Well, the judge is married, right? His wife must have been livid about Eleanor Odom . . . if she knew about it.”
“Oh, that one. Well she’s a piece of work herself, let me tell you that. Rich family, new money, you know, showy, private schools, never worked a day in her life. Blind to the man she married . . . couldn’t care less. Spends all her time at the country club with the tennis pro and I will say no more. I’m not one to gossip. Evil, foul thing, gossip is. My daddy always said that and he was right.”
“Absolutely. And you, Eunah Mabry, strike me as a woman who would never say a false word, let alone gossip.” Hailey said it with the straightest face she could muster. Was this woman still drunk? Or just hungover?
“Actually, it’s almost lunchtime. Would you care for a cordial? A small glass of wine?”
Hailey glanced over at a grandfather clock standing solemnly in the corner. It plainly said ten-thirty.
Ignoring the drink offer, Hailey went on. “Earlier, you mentioned a scandal?”
“Did I?” Eunah looked almost surprised.
“Yes. Something to do with Eleanor Odom?”
“Oh, of course. The scandal of it all . . . to drop dead just before the governor’s race really heats up. I mean . . . what if the press connects her back to the judge? Not that there’s anything to connect . . . but what if they did? It could ruin everything! Everything!”
Hailey didn’t answer, merely held Eunah’s gaze as if willing her to go on. And she did.
“If someone knew how she chased him and thought they were putting two and two together . . . I mean . . . for him to be connected to a girl like . . . like . . . her. What if someone thought he was somehow . . .”
“Somehow what?”
“Somehow responsible. He’s not, of course! But having someone like . . . like Eleanor Odom pop up during a political race . . . I mean, after all, the woman keels over one floor directly under the judge’s chambers! And, of course, she had to put on quite the performance, even in death. With everyone looking at her. Just as she always wanted . . . everyone . . . the judge . . . looking at her.”
Just then, a horn beeped very close by. Eunah leaped from her seat and instinctively turned toward a mirror hanging on the wall beside them, patting her hair into place. With her two index fingers, she wiped the corners of her mouth where lipstick mixed with red wine had gathered and crusted over.
“Oh dear, it might be the judge! He’s here to pick up some letters and orders I finished up for him last night at the courthouse.”
She practically flew to one of the front windows, pulled the gauzy white sheers to one side, and peeked out. “It’s him!”
Eunah Mabry hurried over to a hardwood secretary, eighteenth century by the look of it, and pulled back the roll top to scoop up a good eight inches of stacked papers. Several yellow stickies stuck out on the sides with handwritten instructions on them.
The doorbell rang. Hailey remained seated, but she cou
ld easily hear the conversation at the door.
“Well, good morning, Eunah! You must have slept like a baby . . . you look absolutely gorgeous this morning!”
“Judge! How you go on! Please, won’t you come in for a cup of coffee?”
“Well, I, uh . . .” the judge stalled.
“Or a glass of wine? I have your favorite, you know!”
“Eunah . . . nothing, absolutely nothing, would please me more than to come in and have a glass of wine with you and just visit. You know, I miss that. Just visiting with you. We’ve just been so busy with the upcoming race and all . . . and . . . to tell you the truth . . .” he paused.
“Yes, Judge?” Desperation was creeping into Eunah’s voice.
“Well, I can’t lie to you, Eunah. You know me better than I know myself. I’ve got Mrs. Regard in the car with me. She has a tennis tournament at the club and she’s in a hurry. And . . . you know how she is, Eunah.”
On cue, the horn blew as if ordering the judge to hurry up. It wasn’t a little toot, either. It was a much longer, agitated blow, like a jab to the back or an elbow to the rib. It was a subtle but important difference in horn blowing that anyone in the South would recognize and immediately take issue with.
“I understand, Judge. Maybe next time?” Her voice actually quivered.
“Absolutely next time. It’s a date, Eunah. I’m looking forward to it.”
No wonder Eunah Mabry fell in love. This guy was certainly a charmer. Hailey paused. Wonder who else was in love with him?
Hailey stood up from the sofa almost involuntarily. She silently stepped over to the window. Looking out between the sheers, there in the circular driveway behind Hailey’s rental sat a metallic baby blue Mercedes convertible SL65. The new ones listed at more than $200,000. Hailey let out a low whistle. That wasn’t cheap and it certainly wasn’t affordable on a county judge’s salary.
The top was down and Hailey could easily see Victoria Regard in the passenger’s seat. She had pale white skin, dark silky hair cut in a bob curling in around her neck, and black Jackie O glasses.
Victoria Regard reached her left hand over. The horn blew again. Hailey noticed she didn’t bother to look up at her husband and Eunah across the front porch at the front door.
“Gotta run, Eunah. But I’ll see you Monday morning, OK?”
“Of course, Judge. I’ll see you . . . Monday morning.” Eunah’s voice was noticeably thin, almost cracking.
“Promise? You won’t run off with the mailman? We’ll have coffee like we always do? You make the best coffee in the world. I wish you’d give tips to Mrs. Regard; hers tastes like poison!” Hailey imagined he had the same inviting smile he wore in the photo with Scorsese, thin upper lip, full lower one, curved up at one corner.
“Promise,” she said it so quietly that Hailey could barely hear her.
Hailey quickly left the window and settled back at her seat before Eunah returned. She heard the front door close quietly, followed by the Mercedes’s motor gunning and the sound of gravel churning as the car scratched off.
Eunah Mabry came around the corner and into Hailey’s view. She gripped the side of the wall with one hand as if she needed support. She held the fingertips of her other hand to her temple.
“Miss . . . ah . . .”
“Dean. Hailey Dean,” Hailey interjected quickly to save her the embarrassment of having forgotten her name.
“Yes. Miss Dean, I seem to have developed a terrible headache. Would it be too rude if I asked you if we could continue our conversation about the judge’s campaign at a later time?”
“Of course! I’m so sorry to have barged in on you like this. And thank you for the coffee and the conversation. It’s such a pleasure to meet you and see your lovely home.”
“Yes. How kind. And please visit again.”
Hailey was pretty sure, regardless of what she’d just said, another visit from Hailey Dean was the last thing this woman wanted. Rehashing the relationship between Eleanor Odom and Judge Regard along with Eleanor’s death obviously struck a nerve.
The headache seemed real. But whether it was from all the wine and sleeping on ornamental sofa pillows or from the sight of Bill Regard with his wife . . . Hailey wasn’t exactly sure.
Eunah Mabry closed the ornate front door gently. Hailey practically bounded down the front steps and back out into the sunlight. She paused before she got back into the driver’s seat of her rental car.
Looking up at the sky through the branches of the live oaks, she suddenly couldn’t wait to get away from the mansion, beautiful as it was. The stale smell of cigarettes, the sticky wine glasses, the loneliness of it all hung on her like a heavy, wet cloak. She turned the ignition and pulled out of the driveway and back onto the two-lane. The wind rushed through her hair.
The disappointment that lived in Eunah Mabry’s mansion faded in the sunlight.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The sun broke through the heavy oaks like strobe lights as Hailey sped down Victory Drive. Huge gnarled arms with Spanish moss draping down like choir robes made a canopy over her head the length of the avenue. Hailey kept inhaling the fresh air, instinctively almost, gulping it down like a dog hanging its head out the open window.
Only when she escaped the mansion Eunah Mabry’s daddy built did she realize she felt she could barely breathe inside. She knew, in her head, that she could in fact breathe perfectly normally in the beautiful old home. It was all in her mind, the constriction of the chest, the claustrophobic feeling . . . even though every room was huge and appointed to a tee. Yes, her head knew it . . . but her heart didn’t.
There was something sad and aching and . . . venomous lurking there. And it wasn’t the home itself.
Tooling down Victory Drive, Hailey glanced over when her iPhone buzzed and lit up. It was Billings. She put it on speaker.
“Good morning! How are you?” She had a smile on her face.
“Good morning, Miss Hailey Dean! What trouble are you stirring up today? And how do you feel?”
“I feel great. A little achy, but overall great! Thanks for asking. Oops, hold on. A cop’s on my tail and I don’t want him to see the phone in my hand!”
“Just tell him you know somebody . . .”
“But what if he asks who? He may not like you!” Hailey started laughing as a Savannah cop cruiser passed her and kept going.
“You’re in the car? Where are you?”
“Victory Drive heading back to downtown.”
“Really? What interests you on Victory Drive?” Hailey could hear the curiosity in his voice.
“You’ll never guess. Eunah Mabry. Name ring a bell?”
“It does, actually. Eunah Mabry . . . Eunah Mabry . . . who is she?”
“Judge Bill Regard’s secretary. None other.”
“Hailey! Are you out investigating a case in my jurisdiction?” She could actually see the twinkle in his eye and the smile playing the corners of his lips.
“I take the Fifth!” She just made it under a yellow light and kept going.
“Well, it just so happens that I’m at Victory and Abercorn. Let’s get coffee.”
“I don’t drink coffee. Unless I have to.”
“Then you watch me drink coffee and I’ll get you hot tea. How’s that?”
“One condition,” Hailey answered, checking her rearview.
“What’s that?”
“We get it to go. I’ll even let you drive.”
“Deal! Where are we going?” He was an unusually good sport.
“The Savannah Country Club. There’s a ladies’ tennis tournament I want to watch.”
“Uh-oh. I smell trouble.”
Hailey could tell he was still smiling, even though she couldn’t see him. He was smart, too. That was a dangerous combination, as far as Hailey was concerned. Good-looking, smart, and a good sport.
Within just minutes, Hailey spotted Billings in her rearview mirror. He put on the blue lights for effect and Hailey started la
ughing.
Her cell buzzed again. “You’re headed to the Savannah Country Club? Is that what you said?” Billings asked immediately, no hello.
“Yep. That’s where I’m headed!”
“OK. That’s what I thought you said, but I was a little afraid to ask why.” She caught his eyes in the rearview.
“I told you! There’s a tennis match I want to see! Come join me! Maybe it will help me get in. And I bet you can get a cup of coffee there, too.”
“I bet I can,” Billings answered. She could see in her rearview that he was still smiling. That was good.
“Hey, you’re a lawman. They may even give it to you for free. Now that’s incentive . . . right?”
“From what I know of the Savannah Country Club, the last thing they want to see is a sheriff showing up . . . that means trouble. Blue bloods don’t like even the suggestion of cops . . . or trouble. They’ll give me a gallon of hot coffee to leave!”
“I hear you. But they’ll be way too polite to actually come right out and ask you to leave! Agree?” Hailey had a point.
They certainly weren’t club members, but Billings’s uniform could get them in the door and to the tennis courts. Hailey had the idea she was on to something and she didn’t want to slow down now. She had to get a closer look at Bill Regard and his wife.
“Yep . . . they only want a cop uniform on the premises if he’s directing parking for a society event. You know the deal, Hailey. It’s all right. I get it. It’s not like I could afford the membership fees anyway.”
“I know the deal, Billings. I know the deal for sure.”
“So, Hailey. What’s with the tennis match?”
“How about I tell you over our free coffee? Or in my case, tea? I’d hate to get busted for driving while distracted by cell phone. Hee-hee.”
“OK. I guess I’ll have to trust you. But let me in front. You just took a wrong turn.”
“See? You distracted me!”
Billings pulled around in front, and in no time they were there. A guard in a security house waved them through as soon as he saw Billings’s patrol car. Hailey noticed the security guard began speaking into a walkie-talkie when they passed. Probably alerting the club a cop had showed up.
