by Ingrid Thoft
“I’ll have to get up early,” Fina said. “Obviously, I have a lot of work to do.”
“You can join us for our constitutional!” Frank said.
“What time is that?” Fina asked out of curiosity.
“Five thirty,” Peg said.
“Good Lord. That won’t be happening, under any circumstances. Can I stay anyway?”
“Anytime, you know that.” Frank winked at her.
Fina sat with them as they watched the local cable news station. A report of her fiery SUV led the update.
“There’s nothing halfway about your life, is there?” Frank asked.
“Go big or go home,” Fina said. “It’s the Ludlow way.”
—
Bobbi Barone was at home in West Roxbury when Fina called her the next morning. Fina wanted to make a proper condolence call, but she also had a few questions that she preferred to ask in person; there was no substitute for seeing a person’s facial expressions. That was one of the reasons she was highly suspicious of relationships that were conducted mostly online; people lied face-to-face, but it wasn’t as easy.
Bobbi’s house was off Washington Street, a few blocks from Stony Brook Reservation. Fina forgot sometimes about the green spaces dotted throughout the city. She was glad that somebody had the forethought to set aside land for uses other than development.
She wound through streets lined with center-entrance colonials and ranches before finding Bobbi’s raised ranch. Dark gray with white shutters, it had a single-car garage under half of the house and a front door in the center of the facade. The dwelling was boxy and surrounded by denuded shrubs and a yard delineated by a chain-link fence. Fina could see an attached deck out back and a swing set that she imagined was utilized by Bobbi’s grandchildren. She parked her car and noticed the long stare from the elderly neighbor who was clearing snow off his front path. The neighborhood watch signs she’d seen indicated it was a place where people looked out for one another, and visitors were suspect until proven otherwise.
Fina rang the bell and waited for a moment. Bobbi peeked out through a curtain covering the front door, her face relaxing when she saw the identity of her visitor.
“Is this an okay time?” Fina asked once Bobbi opened the door.
“Yes, come in. I’m glad to see you.” Bobbi leaned out the door and waved to the nosy neighbor in reassurance.
“He was giving me the hairy eyeball,” Fina said, leaving her belongings on a coatrack by the door.
“That’s Barry. He’s a grump, but he’s just being protective,” Bobbi said. “He doesn’t want anyone bothering me.”
“Have people been bothering you?” Fina asked.
Bobbi paused. “There’s been a lot of press around, and there have been some e-mails.”
“What kind of e-mails?”
“You know, ‘You’re ruining football, you bitch.’ ‘Don’t piss on our sports.’ That type of thing. I don’t understand why they’re angry with me.”
“I think they’re terrified that someone will draw an irrefutable line between concussions and long-term brain damage. God forbid their pleasure or income generation be curtailed by a small thing like dementia.”
“It really is a ridiculous notion—that I’m a threat to the NCAA.”
“But Bobbi, you should have contacted me right away. I’m going to get a security review for you and possibly some protection.” The e-mails sounded like the work of typical Internet cranks, but she couldn’t risk that her note writer also had an eye on Bobbi.
“That’s not necessary, Fina.”
“I insist. I don’t think you’re in actual danger, but you can’t discount those threats.”
Bobbi smiled. “Barry won’t be happy if he’s replaced.”
“They can enlist him in the effort. He’ll think he works for Blackwater or whatever they call themselves these days.”
Fina followed her back to the kitchen overlooking the deck and the backyard. The cabinets were 1970s wood with fussy pulls, and the countertops were beige Formica. Linoleum covered the floor, and a country-style table dominated one corner. The counters were crowded with floral arrangements and Tupperware containers of food.
“I’ve had so much company,” Bobbi said, pulling out a coffee mug and filling it from a pot on the counter. “I know they’re just being supportive, but I’m ready to be left alone.”
“And then I came over,” Fina said, accepting the mug of steaming liquid.
“You’re different. I don’t think I have to make you feel better about everything that’s happened.”
“Hardly.” Fina reached for the sugar bowl and poured in a heaping spoonful.
“What happened to your hand?” Bobbi asked.
Peg had examined her hand that morning and reapplied ointment and gauze. She thought it would heal on its own, but, like the EMT, suggested Fina see a doctor for a follow-up, which was never going to happen.
“I had a bit of an adventure yesterday,” Fina said.
Bobbi gestured for her to continue.
“I don’t know if you saw the news, but there was a car that caught fire on the Tobin.”
“That was you?” Bobbi asked, wide-eyed.
“Yeah. I’m fine, though. My brother was with me, and he’s okay, too. The car’s a complete loss, but it’s just a car.”
“What happened?”
“We don’t really know yet.” Fina sipped her coffee.
“So the car just caught fire?” Bobbi asked.
“Well, I think it may have had a little help.”
Bobbi slowed her coffee cup on the way to her mouth. “Someone did it on purpose? Because of Liz?” She looked alarmed.
“I don’t know. Some of my brother’s cases are contentious, to say the least, so maybe it had to do with him.” Fina shrugged. “That isn’t why I’m here, though, and like I said, I don’t think you’re in danger.”
Bobbi took a sip from her cup. “I wish I could pretend that I care right now, but frankly, I’m finding it hard to care about much of anything.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“You’re not going to lecture me about my other children and my grandchildren? Everything I have to live for?”
Fina smiled. “I’m not big on lectures, maybe because other people are always giving them to me.” She sipped her coffee. “Can you tell me how the decision to donate Liz’s brain came about? Was it something she’d discussed with you?”
Bobbi picked a petal from a bouquet of flowers in front of her. The vase held white carnations and lilies. There was no mistaking their funereal theme.
“We did talk about it,” she said finally. “And it’s in her will.”
“Where does Jamie fit into all of this? Usually it’s the spouse who makes that kind of decision and announcement.”
“Jamie doesn’t object,” Bobbi insisted.
“No, I know,” Fina said. “He told me that the other day. I was just wondering why he wasn’t more involved in the process.”
“My daughter was very stubborn,” Bobbi said, her eyes watering. “Once she accepted her diagnosis, she was determined to do everything she could to save herself and to stop it from happening to anyone else.”
“So even if Jamie didn’t agree, he wouldn’t have been able to stop her.”
Bobbi nodded. “She put it in her will, and Jamie’s not the type to contest something like that, even if he disagreed.”
“Who drew up her will?” Fina asked.
“Thatcher Kinney.”
Ahh. The small-town legal eagle.
“Is there anything else of note in it?” Fina asked.
“No. She had a living will, which we followed, and she wanted to be an organ donor in addition to donating her brain to BU. Everything else goes to Jamie, but they don’t have much. The house, their ca
rs, and the kids, obviously.”
“Did anyone else know that Liz was planning to donate her brain to the lab?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Bobbi said. “That’s not a conversation people are generally comfortable having. I don’t mean Liz. I mean anyone who might have been on the receiving end.”
Fina traced a circle on the tabletop with her finger. “Liz was very brave, Bobbi, and she obviously got that from you.”
Tears rolled down Bobbi’s cheeks. “I miss her so much.”
“I know.” Fina was silent for a moment. “I’ve talked to her boss, Vikram Mehra. He’s a real peach.”
“Do you think he had something to do with this?”
“I’m not sure, but he certainly had a motive,” Fina said.
“What motive could he possibly have had?” she asked.
“The lab lost a big grant, and according to my sources, he blamed Liz.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Bobbi said. She plucked another petal from the flowers. “When I think that she might have died for some stupid reason like that, my blood boils.”
Fina fiddled with her coffee mug. “I’m sorry to say this, but every reason is going to be stupid. I’ve seen people hold out the hope that it will make sense once they know why their loved one was killed, and it never does.”
Bobbi was silent.
“But obviously,” Fina said, backtracking, “whatever gets you through the day.”
“It’s okay, Fina. I know you’re just trying to give me the wisdom of your experience.”
“But it would probably be more helpful if I just shut up,” Fina said.
Bobbi gave her a weak smile. She looked tired. Her shoulders sagged, and she rested her elbows on the table.
“I’m going to go,” Fina said, “unless you want me to stick around.”
“No. It’s okay. I think I’m going to lie down for a little while.” Bobbi took their coffee mugs to the sink and rinsed them under the tap.
“How’s Jamie holding up?” Fina asked as they walked to the front door.
“As well as can be expected. He’s always been involved with the kids, but being both parents is all new to him.”
“Sounds stressful and exhausting,” Fina noted.
“And his knee has been acting up, which doesn’t help.” Bobbi handed Fina her coat and scarf.
“What happened to his knee?”
“When he stopped playing music,” Bobbi said, “Liz got him training for a triathlon. It was going okay, but then he wiped out on his bike and blew out his knee.”
Fina cringed. “That sounds brutal. Both parts: the triathlon and the knee.”
“I thought so, too, but it was the kind of thing that Liz loved. I think she was hoping it would be something they could do together.”
“Kelly said the funeral is tomorrow?” Fina asked, zipping up her jacket.
“Yes.”
“Okay. Hang in there, and call me anytime. Day or night.”
“Thank you.” Bobbi gave her a hug and closed the door behind her.
Barry was still in his front yard, doing the world’s most thorough job of snow removal. He and Frank had practically elevated the chore to an art form. Fina waved and got into her car.
She felt a wash of gratitude that she didn’t have to stay in that sad house, but then she felt a wash of guilt for feeling that way.
18.
Fina called Risa and suggested they meet for an early lunch. They settled on a small Greek place in Newton Lower Falls. On the way to the restaurant, Fina kept a careful watch on the cars around her, wondering if her tail would make an appearance or if the car fire had been his way of reaching out to her. She didn’t see anyone suspicious, but she didn’t like having to be so vigilant; being on guard was exhausting.
She parked and called Dennis Kozlowski. Per Fina’s request, he would send someone over to Bobbi’s house to do a risk assessment and, if needed, assign her some protection. Fina hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but personal security was not the place to cut corners.
The Greek restaurant was casual and dimly lit, calling to mind a grotto on the Mediterranean. An older gentleman, wizened and tan, greeted her at the door and led her to the table where Risa was already seated, sipping from a glass of seltzer. Fina took a seat in front of a mural depicting an olive grove and the Parthenon, outlined in the iconic blue of the Greek flag.
They perused the menu and caught up on various family members. Fina returned the menu to the host, who also appeared to be owner, maître d’, and waiter. Once he’d relayed their orders to the kitchen, he sat down a few tables away and flipped through the pages of a Greek-language newspaper.
Risa spotted the gauze on Fina’s hand. “What happened?” she asked.
“I had a spot of car trouble on the Tobin last night.”
Risa forced the lime wedge in her glass down toward the bottom. She looked puzzled. “What kind of trouble? You don’t mean that exploding car, do you?”
“Yes, that was me, but it wasn’t an explosion.”
“You’re kidding me,” Risa said.
Fina laughed. “No.”
“What happened?”
“We don’t know for sure, but it looks like someone placed an incendiary device on the car,” Fina said.
“How did you discover it?” Risa asked.
“Ah, it was kind of hard to miss. The whole car erupted in flames,” Fina said, accepting a glass brimming with ice and a can of cold diet soda from the waiter. “Scotty was with me. I think it was the most excitement he’s had in a long time.”
“Is your hand going to be okay?”
“Yeah. It’s just a minor burn. I’m fine. The car is totaled, but what are you gonna do?”
Risa shook her head. “I’m just glad you two are okay.”
The waiter brought over a mezze plate with olives, taramosalata, pita bread, and stuffed grape leaves. He returned to his table and his newspaper. It was on the early side, which Fina hoped accounted for the lack of diners.
“Enough about me,” Fina said. “How are you doing?”
Risa sighed. “I’m fine. I’m supposed to have the next round of tests in a couple of days.”
“That’s why I wanted to talk to you,” Fina said. “I saw Frank Gillis last night, and he told me about his trip to Rockford.” Fina was conflicted about how much of Frank’s report she should pass along. She’d decided to keep Greta’s assertion that she was getting a stranger donation to herself. Other than upsetting Risa, there didn’t seem much point in sharing the information.
Risa pulled an olive pit out of her mouth and deposited it on the plate. Somehow she made the gesture look dainty. “Okay.”
“He made the trip with his wife, Peg.”
Risa frowned. “I thought you weren’t going to tell anyone but Frank.”
“I don’t consider Peg just anyone,” Fina explained. “She’s extremely discreet, and I knew that her presence would make their job easier. I made an executive decision on that.”
Risa nodded. “Fine. Did it help? Having her there?”
“It did. People are generally less suspicious of women who ask questions, and an older couple is even better.”
“No one expects them to be private investigators,” Risa offered.
“Exactly.”
“So what did they find out?”
“Keep in mind that none of this is set in stone. They were just fishing around for some gossip.”
“You’re stressing me out,” Risa said as a Greek salad was set in front of her. Fina accepted a plate with a gyro and French fries. A thin trail of aromatic steam curled up from the sandwich.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to,” Fina said. “The gist is that they didn’t find any suggestion that Greta or her sister ever made an effort to find you.”
Risa picked up her fork and methodically cut a thick slice of cucumber in half. She didn’t look at Fina.
“I’m sorry, Risa. I know that isn’t what you wanted to hear.”
“I’m not sure what I wanted to hear,” Risa said, “if I’m being totally honest.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes.
“Who did they talk to exactly?” Risa asked.
“Keep in mind that Rockford’s pretty tiny,” Fina said. “They started in the local diner and eventually hooked up with a real estate agent who showed them a few properties.”
“Wow. They really put on a show.”
“Sometimes it’s the only way to get people to talk to you. They said they were old friends of your mother’s.”
“Was the agent familiar with her?”
Fina took a bite of gyro before answering. “Yes, and Greta. They didn’t ask outright about Elizabeth’s offspring, but there was no mention of blended families or that sort of thing. There was no sense that Greta or her family were interested in contacting you.”
Risa speared a grape tomato. “So she just wants me for my kidney.”
“I think we should do a little more digging before we decide that Greta is just in it for your organs.”
Risa straightened the napkin on her lap. “Maybe it doesn’t even matter.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe she does just need my kidney, but maybe that’s reason enough for me to give it to her.”
“Uhh, that’s not reason enough,” Fina said.
“Why not? I have something that could save her life. Who am I to deny her that?”
“You’re the owner of the kidney, that’s who. You’re not obligated to help someone at the expense of your health or your own family.”
“No, but I should at least seriously consider it.”
Fina swallowed some soda. “Clearly, you’re a much better person than I am.”
“Not necessarily.” Risa fiddled with the straw in her drink. “I have my own reason for considering it.”
