Brutality

by Ingrid Thoft

  The microwave beeped. “Chandler,” Haley said. “Your dinner’s ready.”

  “This is almost over,” he said from the corner of the couch.

  “You can pause it, but you have to eat now,” his cousin insisted.

  “Aww.”

  “That’s what Aunt Patty said,” Haley said.

  The boy pushed himself off the couch and took the stool next to Fina. Haley slid the plate and cup across the island to him. She took two diet sodas out of the fridge and gave one to Fina before opening her own.

  “Aunt Fina,” Chandler said, after shoving a chicken nugget into his mouth. “Do you think that if you put a frog in a cardboard box and he tried to jump that he would get out or would he get a concussion?”

  Fina and Haley exchanged a look. Fina grinned, and Haley rolled her eyes.

  “Is there a cover on the box?” Fina asked.

  “Of course. If there wasn’t a cover, he’d just jump right out,” he said, in a tone suggesting she was an idiot.

  “So you’re wondering if he would knock himself unconscious trying to get out?” she clarified.

  “Yes.” He ate a broccoli floret and gazed at her.

  “It depends on how strong the frog is. If he’s got strong deltoids and trapezoids like you do”—Fina reached over and squeezed his shoulders—“I don’t think he’d have a problem.” Chandler giggled. “But if he hasn’t been eating his broccoli, then he might bang his soft little head.”

  “Wow,” Haley said, leaning her elbows against the counter. “You’re giving this way too much thought.”

  “It’s an interesting question,” Fina said. “It deserves a thoughtful answer. What do you think, buddy?” she asked her nephew.

  The rest of the meal was a monologue of Chandler’s theories and questions, which were as entertaining as they were implausible.

  After he finished eating, he resumed his slump on the couch, and Haley cleaned up. As Fina stood to leave, Haley turned off the water and grabbed a paper towel.

  “Gammy won’t stop talking about the trip,” she said, wiping her hands and examining the floor.

  “Which trip?” Fina asked.

  Haley didn’t respond.

  “The Miami trip?” Fina asked, eyeing Chandler, who was engrossed in his show.

  “Yeah.”

  “I will put an end to it tonight. I promise.”

  “Thanks,” Haley said.

  Fina gave both kids hugs and kisses and let herself out.

  Her mom pushed and pushed and pushed, and then she always seemed surprised when Fina pushed back.

  This time, Elaine was in for the surprise of her life.

  —

  At Nanny’s, Fina rummaged around in her closet and pulled out a burner phone. She took it into the living room and pulled up the website for Horizon Mortgage East. Karla Hewett’s page listed her e-mail and her cell number. Fina walked over to the window and rested her forehead against the cold pane. She knew that her motives weren’t pure, but that didn’t negate her actions. Rand deserved everything coming to him, and Karla’s kids deserved to be safe. Fina dialed the number.

  “Hello.”

  “Could I please speak with Karla Hewett?” Fina asked.

  “This is Karla. How can I help you?”

  “Your new boyfriend is a creep, and you should keep him away from your children.”

  “I’m sorry, who is this?” Karla asked.

  “Rand Ludlow is a pedophile, and he likes to hire prostitutes that look like young girls. If you don’t believe me, you should ask a woman named Bev Duprey.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You can reach Bev at MCI-Framingham,” Fina said. “It’s a women’s prison in Massachusetts. She’s an inmate, and I’m sure she’d be happy to enlighten you.”

  “I don’t know who you are, but you don’t know what you’re talking about. Don’t call me again!” Karla said.

  “I won’t,” Fina promised. “You’ve been warned.”

  She hung up and went over to the couch. She lay down and pulled Nanny’s afghan over her.

  It was so draining keeping up with family.

  34.

  As soon as she woke up, Fina grabbed her phone and called Cristian, but had to settle for leaving a voice mail. She wanted to know if he’d made any progress proving that either Kevin or Vikram was behind the bomb.

  The next person she wanted to speak with was Kelly Wegner, but as Fina gathered her belongings, Pamela called.

  “I wonder if you could meet me,” Pamela said.

  “Sure,” Fina said, wondering if the moment of truth was approaching.

  “How about coffee in the student center?”

  “Okay. Give me half an hour.”

  Pamela was waiting when Fina climbed the broad stairs to the second story of the center. She was seated near a large window in a modern-looking chair covered in striped fabric. There was a coffee cup in her hand.

  Fina dragged a chair next to Pamela and sat down.

  “What’s going on?” Fina asked.

  There were dark circles under Pamela’s eyes, and her lipstick looked faded.

  “I wanted to tell you that I didn’t kill Liz Barone.”

  “I don’t think you did,” Fina said.

  “No?” Pamela asked.

  “No. I think you had a motive, but I don’t think you acted on it.”

  Pamela reached forward and placed the coffee cup on a low table in front of them. “So you know.”

  Fina looked at her. “Why don’t you tell me whatever it is that you want to say, Pamela?”

  She rotated her watch on her wrist before speaking. “I made a terrible mistake.”

  “You’re going to have to be more specific.” Fina adjusted her butt in the chair. Nanny’s blue velvet couch may have been ugly, but it was certainly comfortable. “I’m probably the most sympathetic ear you’ll have for a while. You can practice on me.”

  “I don’t have a Ph.D. from Stanford. I don’t have a Ph.D. at all,” she said, the statement coming out in a rush. “I never claimed that I had the degree. Someone else said I did, and then it was too late to correct them.”

  “When exactly was it too late?” Fina asked. “You’ve been pretending to have this degree and other related credentials for almost a decade.”

  “I was at a conference, and the emcee introduced me and said I had a Ph.D. from Stanford,” Pamela said, fingering a string of beads around her neck. “I was shocked, but I was so nervous about my presentation that I didn’t correct it at the time.”

  “And afterward?” Fina asked. “Why didn’t you correct it that same day? People would have understood that you froze in the moment.”

  “I forgot about it, and then the next time it came up, too much time had passed. If I set the record straight, it would look like I’d been lying.” Pamela dropped her hands to her lap.

  “You were lying.”

  “Not at first,” Pamela insisted. “I didn’t actively lie at first.”

  “But I’m assuming some of your advancement can be attributed to your supposed advanced education,” Fina said.

  “I don’t know. I obviously don’t need the degree to do my job successfully.”

  “Maybe,” Fina conceded, “but that’s hardly the point.”

  “What are you going to do?” Pamela asked her.

  “About this? Nothing. I’m not your problem, but I was able to ferret this out pretty easily. If I can do it, others can, too. I’m actually surprised no one has.”

  “People in academia are very trusting,” Pamela said.

  Fina watched a few students playing pinball. What did it say about her brothers that their offices resembled a student center?

  “Are you telling me this because you secretl
y hope that I’ll spill the beans?” Fina asked. “It would fit the pattern of letting other people decide your fate.”

  “No,” Pamela said testily. “It’s nothing that Freudian. I wanted your advice.”

  “Okay.”

  “Given your family’s history, I thought you might be able to recommend a good PR firm.”

  “So you’re going to go public?” Fina asked.

  Pamela sighed. “I’m tired of worrying about being found out. I’m sure once it’s public, I’ll regret it, but this seems like the lesser of two evils at the moment.”

  “And then you won’t have to worry about someone like Kevin Lafferty holding it over you,” Fina commented.

  “He told you?”

  “No, but I figured that he knew.”

  “Why?” Pamela asked.

  “You were so anxious to tattle on him, and it made sense once I realized you were lying about your degree. He knew, and you were trying to neutralize him.”

  Pamela’s lip curled. “A lot of good that did.”

  “Oh, I think Kevin is going to get his due,” Fina said. “As far as a PR firm is concerned, you should speak with a man named Arthur Drummond. I’ll e-mail you his contact info. He’s worked with my family and some of our clients.”

  “I may need some kind of legal representation, too.”

  “I’m sure Arthur can give you a referral.”

  There was a loud smacking sound as a student at a nearby pool table racked the balls and broke them with the cue ball.

  “Coming clean is the right move,” Fina said. “You can craft a statement and make some kind of a deal with the university. And who knows? It might end up being a good time to leave, depending upon how this lawsuit shakes out.”

  Pamela gazed across the room. “I’ll never get another job in academia. No one will hire me.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. This is America. Everybody loves a comeback,” Fina said, rising to her feet. “I’ll send you that e-mail, and if you need help in the meantime, you know how to reach me.”

  “Thank you, Fina.” Pamela dipped her head. “I am ashamed by what I’ve done.”

  Fina didn’t answer, just walked away.

  People often debated the relative morality of lies of commission versus lies of omission; Pamela was a perfect example of the damage wrought by staying silent.

  She was embarrassed and ashamed, but there were worse crimes.

  Like mayhem and murder.

  —

  Kelly and her husband owned a Cape Cod–style house a few streets away from Liz and Jamie’s home. Fina parked out front and took note of the family decal on the back of the minivan in the driveway. The house was painted light blue and had a large bay window. Brick steps with a black wrought iron railing led to the door, which was only a few feet from the sidewalk.

  Fina rang the bell and peered through the door’s glass panel. It was pebbled so you could see movement, but no actual detail. A shadow moved behind it, and Kelly appeared. She didn’t look particularly pleased to see Fina when she opened the door.

  “Hi,” Kelly said.

  “I’m sorry to drop by unannounced. I just need a few minutes.”

  “This isn’t a good time. Why don’t you call me later and we’ll figure something out?”

  “Kelly, we need to talk.” Fina pulled her shoulders back and looked Kelly in the eye. She wouldn’t force herself in, but Fina hoped that her posture communicated the urgency of the matter.

  “Okay.” Kelly stepped back from the door. “Can you take off your boots? I don’t want stuff tracked in.”

  “Of course.” Fina attended to her outerwear, and Kelly moved farther into the room. The front door opened directly onto the staircase and the living room. Kelly sat down on the couch and slipped a stack of papers into a folder, then put the folder into a portable file container.

  “You’re so organized,” Fina commented, joining her on the couch.

  Kelly shrugged. “I’m in charge of the spring fair at the kids’ school. There’s a lot to keep track of.”

  The room was painted a sandy tone, and there were family photos on the walls and the mantel. A dried-flower arrangement stood on a side table, and a few unburnt logs were assembled in the hearth. The home looked much tidier than Jamie and Liz’s, but it was also smaller and darker.

  “So what did you need to discuss?” Kelly asked. She pressed her hands between her knees.

  Fina got comfortable on the couch. “I’m trying to understand why you’re providing Jamie with drugs.”

  Kelly swallowed and looked away.

  “It’s just such a bad idea,” Fina continued.

  “I don’t want to talk about this,” Kelly said, biting her lower lip.

  “I don’t blame you, but what you’re doing is illegal, not to mention stupid.”

  “Don’t lecture me, Fina.” Kelly’s tone was more pleading than angry.

  “I’m not here to lecture you. I’m here to convince you to stop.”

  Kelly looked at Fina with tear-filled eyes. “He needs my help.”

  “Then help him. I’ve offered to connect him with people, maybe get him into rehab. That’s the help he needs.”

  Kelly smiled bitterly and shook her head. “You sound like Liz.”

  Fina stared at her. “So Liz knew he was an addict?”

  “He’s not an addict! Do you know how much pain he’s in? How much stress he has?”

  “I’m sure that’s true, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s addicted. You’re enabling him, Kelly. You and Gus Sibley.”

  She started to cry. “He needed help, and Gus and I were willing to provide it, unlike Liz, who was completely unsympathetic.”

  “She had a lot on her plate, too,” Fina noted.

  “Don’t use the lawsuit as an excuse,” Kelly said. “She chose to pursue it.”

  “Because she was getting worse and was worried about her kids’ future,” Fina said. “She thought the lawsuit would provide some financial relief.”

  “And in the meantime, she was racking up lawyers’ and doctors’ bills, spending money they didn’t have. Thirty-seven hundred dollars? You may have that kind of money, but people like us don’t.”

  “She needed to see those lawyers and doctors. Her health—and her family’s future—depended on it.” Fina held her hands up. “I still don’t understand how their financial troubles resulted in you getting drugs for Jamie.”

  “He needed someone to talk to, and Liz wasn’t interested. He needed relief from the pain.”

  “I’ll bet he did.”

  “It’s not like that,” Kelly insisted. “The pills were going to be temporary.”

  “So why are you still doing it?” Fina asked.

  “Because Liz died, and things got even worse!”

  “And why is he buying pills on the street and from Dr. Sibley?”

  “Because Gus cut him off for a while,” Kelly said, “but I guess he changed his mind.”

  “Or Jamie threatened to report him if Gus didn’t get back in the business,” Fina suggested.

  Kelly shook her head. “Jamie wouldn’t do that.”

  Fina fought not to roll her eyes. “So Liz is the villain in all this? She doesn’t take care of her poor husband at home, so he goes out and finds a woman who will? He’s using you, Kelly.”

  “No, he’s not,” Kelly said. She crossed her arms tightly. “We have something.”

  “You’re having an affair with a married man and supplying him with drugs. You could lose everything.”

  “That’s not going to happen. We’re going to make it work.”

  “How?” Fina was always amazed that smart women could act so stupid.

  “Eventually,” Kelly said, wiping her eyes, “we’re going to be a family.”

  “A
nd then he’s going to stop being a drug addict?”

  Kelly sniffled. “You need to leave.”

  “You realize this gives you a serious motive for murder?” Fina asked.

  “Liz was my friend,” Kelly said, clenching her hands together.

  “Whose husband you were screwing. Some friend.” Fina stood and walked back to the front door. She got into her boots and jacket and looked at Kelly, who was wiping more tears from her cheeks. “I’m begging you—at the very least—to stop getting him pills,” Fina said. “If your husband or the cops find out, you could be in serious trouble.”

  Kelly was silent. Fina opened the door and walked back to her car.

  There was a heaviness in her chest, for a host of reasons. At the top of the list? Imagining the update she’d have to deliver to Bobbi Barone.

  —

  Fina sat in a booth at a diner near police headquarters, waiting for Cristian. She was reluctant to tell him about the little drug trade she’d uncovered, but its existence—and Liz’s alleged knowledge of it—cast her death in a new light. If Liz knew that Gus was providing her addicted husband with drugs, she could have turned him in to the cops or the DEA. Kelly seemed to be harboring a fantasy about happily ever after with Jamie, and with his sick, nagging wife out of the way, Jamie’s life was less complicated. The whole sorry situation was almost enough to make Fina lose her appetite—almost.

  Her phone rang while she studied the menu, and she answered the call from the unidentified number.

  “You’ve been busy,” the man on the other end said.

  Fina’s muscles tensed, and on instinct, she scanned the room.

  “Who is this?”

  “Come on, Sis, you know who this is.”

  “What do you want, Rand?” Fina asked.

  “You know what I want, but you never seem able to provide it. I want you to butt out of my life.”