When Day Breaks

by Mary Jane Clark

  Never overestimate your own importance, thought Eliza, smiling to herself. Satisfied that Janie was just fine, and not wanting it to interrupt her once she got up to speak to the audience, Eliza turned off her phone.

  CHAPTER 94

  It was growing dark as Stuart Whitaker walked with Faith Hansen on the hilltop overlooking the Hudson River. Just to the south, the lights on the George Washington Bridge came on. In the distance a strand of lights delineated the Tappan Zee Bridge.

  “This is where I envision it,” said Stuart as the museum’s outdoor lights came on, illuminating the area. “This is where the Constance Young Memorial Garden will be built.”

  “It’s a beautiful spot, Mr. Whitaker,” said Faith, looking around at the blooming azaleas and rhododendron. “It truly is.”

  Stuart’s arm swept through the air, indicating the spots where the highlights of the garden would go.

  “The reflecting pool will be here, the memorial walk will be there, and the six stained-glass panels based on the Lady and the Unicorn tapestries in Paris will stand over there, each of them with an image of Constance’s face as the maiden.”

  Faith was impressed. “You’ve given this a lot of thought, haven’t you, Mr. Whitaker?”

  “I find myself thinking about it all the time,” Stuart said earnestly. “But it’s been a great diversion for me. If I spent all my time thinking about Constance being gone, I wouldn’t be able to function.”

  “You really loved her, didn’t you?”

  Stuart looked down at the ground. “With all my heart,” he said. “I want to have an eternal flame burning here to symbolize forever how much your sister meant to me.”

  What a strange little creature he was, Faith thought as she looked at the man in the beautifully tailored suit. She felt sorry for him. He was alone in the world. He had no children, no one who depended on him emotionally, no one to shower with love. As much as caring for Mother was trying and exhausting, Faith could take satisfaction in the devotion she showed her parent. And though her marriage was a disappointment on so many levels, the children of that union were everything to her. The boys loved their father, and she wasn’t going to rob them of his daily presence in their lives.

  Faith looked at Stuart Whitaker, knowing that although he was exceedingly wealthy and successful, what he really wanted couldn’t be bought. Stuart, God help him, had wanted to have Constance. Now, failing that, he wanted what was left of her.

  CHAPTER 95

  Eliza checked her watch. It was almost time for the program to begin. As she glanced around to see if she could spot Rowena Quincy, she was approached by a man accompanied by a woman wearing a simple sleeveless black cocktail dress.

  “Ms. Blake, my name is Jason Vaughan.”

  Eliza recognized the name immediately.

  “Hello, Mr. Vaughan,” she said warily. “I’ve been hearing a lot about you and your book lately, though I haven’t caught you being interviewed about it on TV myself.”

  “I’m flattered you know who I am,” said Jason. “This is my wife…uh, former wife, Nell.”

  “Nice to meet you,” said Eliza as she offered her hand to the woman.

  “My pleasure,” said Nell, smiling.

  “Lovely event, isn’t it?” asked Eliza politely.

  “Yes, it is. I can’t wait to see the unicorn,” said Nell.

  Eliza turned to Jason. “I hear your book is doing quite well,” she said.

  “Knock on wood, yes, it is,” said Jason. “In fact, I received the happy news this afternoon that Never Look Back is debuting at number three on the New York Times Book Review Best Sellers list.”

  “Congratulations,” said Eliza. “What brings you here tonight?”

  “Mixing a little business with pleasure,” answered Jason. “I wanted Nell to have the chance to see the exhibit, but honestly, I have another motive.”

  “What would that be?” asked Eliza.

  “I’m beginning work on another book,” said Jason. “This one will be about the death of Constance Young. It seemed natural to come tonight to see the unicorn returned to the Cloisters after Constance was killed for it.”

  “I see,” said Eliza, wanting to get away.

  “Would it be all right if I called you? Would you be willing to answer some questions for me in an interview?”

  “What kinds of questions?” asked Eliza.

  “I’d be asking how you, as a colleague and anchorwoman, view Constance’s death. Do you think in some way Constance was only getting what she deserved?”

  “No one deserves to be murdered, Mr. Vaughan.”

  Eliza turned, said good-bye to Nell, and began to walk away.

  Jason called after her, “What goes around comes around, Ms. Blake.”

  CHAPTER 96

  With the twins finally settled into bed and Mike at the firehouse, Annabelle brewed herself a cup of herbal tea. She sat down on the sofa and picked up a magazine, but the call from Margo Gonzalez nagged at her.

  What if Ursula Bales had been truly terrified when she was interviewed in front of Constance Young’s country house? What could that mean?

  Annabelle went over to the desk and switched on the laptop. She did a Google search on Ursula Bales, reading the recent articles where her name appeared in conjunction with Constance Young’s death, the ones from today announcing that Ursula herself had been found dead, and the article from a few years ago when Ursula was listed as the sister of a woman suspected to have been murdered because she came forward as an eyewitness to a crime.

  The needlepoint poem indicated that Ursula had witnessed Constance’s murder. After what had happened to her sister, it was understandable she’d be afraid to come forward. But in their excitement at determining that Ursula had been a witness, maybe they’d overlooked something. What if there was something else in the poem? Some clue they had missed.

  Rifling through her tote bag, Annabelle found the notebook in which she’d written down the words of the poem.

  Lady of allure, a lonely shining star, determined and so sure, and worshipped from afar. Men wooed her as a queen, sought after for her charms, known only on the screen, if rarely in her arms. Left lying in a pool, left sinking like a stone, ending up so cool, dying all alone. Careful not to tell, yet I was there as well.

  She read the lines several times, gleaning nothing from them. Then Annabelle pulled out her cell phone.

  “B.J., it’s me, Annabelle. I think there’s something in that poem, but I can’t for the life of me figure out what it is. Will you take a look at it? Two heads are better than one.”

  CHAPTER 97

  It was almost nine o’clock when Eliza took the podium. Large video screens at the four corners of the vast room had close-ups of her face, allowing those at a distance from the podium to feel as close to Eliza Blake as those who were fortunate enough to be seated in front.

  “Good evening and thank you for coming to celebrate the opening of the new Camelot Exhibit here at the historic and beautiful Cloisters. I’m Eliza Blake, and it’s an honor and a pleasure to be with you tonight.”

  Enthusiastic applause reverberated off the stone walls. Eliza looked out at the assembled audience. Among the many faces staring up at her, she spotted Linus and Lauren, Boyd, Faith Hansen, Jason and Nell Vaughan, and Stuart Whitaker.

  Eliza looked at her notes and then back to the crowd.

  “As everyone here undoubtedly knows, the past days have been especially difficult ones—for the family and friends of Constance Young, for her colleagues at KEY News, for her admirers around the country, and for the staff here at the Cloisters, who until just this afternoon weren’t sure if they would have the centerpiece of their new exhibit available to be unveiled tonight.”

  Eliza gestured to the draped box that stood at the side of the room.

  “The ivory unicorn, rumored to be a gift from King Arthur to his Lady Guinevere, has had an intriguing history. It has traveled through the ages, through sometimes romantic, som
etimes tragic, and always complicated circumstances until, ultimately, it found its way to us.”

  Eliza paused deliberately before continuing.

  “How fortunate we are to be among the first people to view this wonderful exhibit. And to have the opportunity to behold Lady Guinevere’s ivory unicorn.”

  With that, all eyes turned from Eliza to the side of the room, where a royal blue velvet cloth was whisked off the glass box, revealing the ivory unicorn standing proudly inside. Cameras trained on the case zoomed in so that the large video screens around the room revealed the tiniest detail.

  CHAPTER 98

  B.J. finished his beer, paid the bill for his dinner, and walked the few blocks back to the Broadcast Center. The lobby was empty, save for the receptionist at the front desk and a security guard. B.J. swiped his ID across the glass panel on the security turnstile, and the gates slid open.

  The halls were quiet. B.J. went directly to the editing booth and found the video he’d recorded up in Bedford earlier in the day. He slid the disk into a viewing deck and shuttled down until he located the shots he’d taken of the needlepoint Ursula Bales had been working on when she died. He read across the lines but gleaned nothing new from them.

  He froze the video at the point where the full poem appeared on screen and studied it.

  Lady of allure,

  A lonely shining star,

  Determined and so sure,

  And worshipped from afar.

  Men wooed her as a queen,

  Sought after for her charms,

  Known only on the screen,

  If rarely in her arms.

  Left lying in a pool,

  Left sinking like a stone,

  Ending up so cool,

  Dying all alone.

  Careful not to tell,

  Yet I was there as well.

  CHAPTER 99

  Eliza stood with Rowena Quincy next to the unicorn’s display case while photographers and videographers took pictures.

  “Let’s get a few shots with Lauren in there, too,” said Linus as he nudged her forward.

  The women posed behind the case, looking down at the unicorn.

  “Look at how that emerald eye sparkles,” said Lauren.

  “Fabulous,” said Eliza. “The lighting is trained on it just perfectly.”

  “That thing sparkles even in the dark, but you have to watch out for that crown—those points are deadly,” said Lauren. She tapped the glass with her finger. “It looks like it should be safe this time,” she said.

  When the flashbulbs had ceased popping, Eliza turned to Rowena. “I’m going to be leaving soon,” she said.

  “Thank you so much for helping us,” said Rowena. “You saved our evening.”

  “My pleasure,” said Eliza. “Truly.”

  CHAPTER 100

  B.J. stared at the screen studying Ursula’s poem until he remembered the exercise he’d done in second grade as a Mother’s Day gift. His mom still had it in a little frame in her kitchen.

  Makes me happy.

  Outstanding cook.

  Tucks me in.

  Hugs and kisses.

  Excellent helper.

  Really nice.

  Now B.J. understood that Ursula Bales had done more than tell the world she’d been a witness to murder. She had also revealed who the murderer was.

  He pulled out his cell phone and called Annabelle.

  CHAPTER 101

  Eliza tried to leave the reception, but she was stopped along the way by many guests wanting to have just a few words with her. Stuart Whitaker was one of them. On his face was a blissful smile.

  “Miss Blake,” he said excitedly. “I have the most exciting news. Mrs. Hansen has agreed to have Constance’s ashes rest in the memorial garden. Is that not wonderful news?”

  Eliza tried to summon up polite enthusiasm. “You must be very pleased,” she said.

  “I am over the moon,” said Stuart. “I want all the world to know about it. I thought you might be able to help me with that.”

  “In what way?” asked Eliza.

  “Put it on the news, of course,” said Stuart.

  “I’m afraid it’s not enough to do a whole story on the Evening Headlines,” Eliza explained. “But I’m sure the information will make its way on air at some point as part of a bigger story.”

  Stuart’s face fell.

  “Tell you what,” said Eliza. “KEY to America is doing their broadcast from here tomorrow morning. Why don’t we find Linus Nazareth, the executive producer, and see if he has any interest?”

  CHAPTER 102

  Annabelle went in to check on the twins. They were sleeping soundly. She tucked the blanket around Tara and stuck Thomas’s foot back under the covers. Then she returned to the desk in the living room to study the poem again. She looked at it for a while but came up with no new revelation.

  Beyond the fact that Ursula had witnessed a murder, what else could have contributed to her being as terror-filled as Margo Gonzalez claimed she appeared in the video? Annabelle wondered.

  She thought back to that afternoon. B.J. had miked Ursula and pointed the camera to shoot the pictures. Lauren had held out the microphone and asked the questions. Annabelle herself had stood to the side, out of camera range, taking notes.

  Ursula would have no reason to be afraid of any of us, Annabelle thought.

  On impulse she went to the computer and did another Google search. When the name was entered, hundreds of hits appeared on the search results page. Annabelle narrowed the search by adding the word “death.” She was engrossed in what she was reading when B.J. called.

  “You aren’t going to believe this,” he said.

  “Oh, yes, I will,” said Annabelle.

  CHAPTER 103

  Eliza found Linus and introduced him to Stuart Whitaker. Then she explained that it had just been decided that Constance Young’s ashes would be kept at the Cloisters.

  “Do you have any interest in talking with Mr. Whitaker about it?” asked Eliza.

  The executive producer considered the offer. “All right,” said Linus. “That sounds like something we can use on the show in the morning. Lauren could take a little walk around the grounds, showing where the memorial garden would be built.” Linus turned to Stuart. “Would you be able to come back up here in the morning and have Lauren interview you?”

  Stuart bit his bottom lip. “Oh, I am afraid that will be problematic,” he said. “I have to go out of town early in the morning. Is there any possibility we can do the interview tonight?”

  “I suppose so,” said Linus. “Let me check with Lauren first.”

  Linus walked over to confer with the KTA cohost. “Fine,” he said when he came back, accompanied by Lauren. “I’ll leave you all to it. I’m going home. I have to be back here way too early tomorrow.”

  “But how will I get home if you take the car?” asked Lauren.

  Linus said nothing.

  “Look,” said Eliza. “I’m going to be here for a little while. I really should talk to some more of these people. If you can do the interview with Stuart right away, I’ll drop you off on my way home.”

  CHAPTER 104

  And listen to this,” said Annabelle. Over the phone she read the short article aloud to B.J.

  “It’s an article from the Louisville Courier-Journal,” said Annabelle. “’Lauren Lee Adams of Frankfort was named Miss Kentucky Reel at a ceremony in Louisville. Ms. Adams, who originally was first runner-up in the pageant, takes the place of Missy Goodwin. Ms. Goodwin died last month.’ And get this, B.J.: ’At autopsy, sodium pentobarbital was found in Ms. Goodwin’s system.’ That’s the same substance that killed Vinny Shays, the animal-shelter worker.”

  B.J. was about to respond, but Annabelle interrupted him.

  “Hang up, B.J. I have to call Eliza.”

  CHAPTER 105

  By the time Eliza finished speaking to all the people who’d lined up to talk to her, the crowd had thinned out considerably. S
he pulled her cell phone from her evening purse and called home.

  “Janie is sound asleep,” said Mrs. Garcia. “Everything is fine here.”

  “That’s great,” said Eliza. “I should be home in about an hour, maybe a little more. I have someone to drop off downtown first.”

  As she went to close the phone, Eliza noticed she had some messages. She would check them as soon as she and Lauren were in the car. All she wanted to do now was find Lauren and get going.

  She looked around for Lauren, Stuart, and a cameraman, wishing that she’d thought to ask where they were going to do the interview, or that she and Lauren had set up a place to meet. Finally Eliza saw one of the KTA production assistants, who told her that she’d seen Lauren outside, walking toward the river with a nerdy-looking guy.

  Pulling her wrap around her against the cool night air, Eliza walked out of the Cloisters and turned west. She walked several hundred feet before bumping into Stuart Whitaker.

  “All done?” Eliza asked.

  “Yes,” Stuart answered, “and I think it went very well. Miss Adams said she very much appreciated that I gave her a personal tour and described for her what the memorial garden will look like. I showed her just where I think Constance’s remains will be kept.”