“If they have his user name and password,” Scott said. “Otherwise we’ll have to subpoena the service provider. That could take weeks.”
“Claire could have two phones,” Sarah said. “She says she has one; maybe she has two.”
“Then I’m sure his call log will reflect that.”
“I want her to stay put until we get that log.”
“Her alibi checked out,” Scott said. “She wasn’t here when he was killed.”
“You’re not the medical examiner,” Sarah said. “We won’t have that report for at least two weeks, maybe four.”
“It takes four hours to drive from DC to Rose Hill, and that’s in daylight in good weather. Four hours from when she rented her car,” Scott began again.
“She knows more than she’s telling,” Sarah said, “and right now she’s my only suspect. I’d really like to get Sloan Merryweather’s take on this. I’d like to subpoena her.”
“Be careful, Sarah,” Scott said. “Powerful people do not like to be bothered and you can’t afford to piss off your boss in an election year.”
“Solving a high-profile homicide case could make me and my boss look good in an election year,” Sarah said. “If you don’t roll the dice you can never beat the house.”
“Have you spoken to anyone in Mr. Farthington’s family about meeting with us?”
“They’re coming down to identify and retrieve the body. I’ll tackle them after they get to the morgue.”
“With sensitivity, of course.”
“Of course.”
Sarah left and Scott walked down to Claire’s parents’ house. He walked up to the front door just as Sammy was letting himself out.
“Hold it right there, partner,” Scott said.
Sammy froze and then looked right and left, as if planning his escape route.
“I brought you something,” Scott said.
Sammy looked suspicious.
“Shows me it,” Sammy said.
“Is Claire supposed to be watching you?” Scott asked. “Does she know you’re leaving?”
“I going to school at the white church,” Sammy said.
“I seriously doubt it,” Scott said. “Here’s my deal: we go inside and see Claire or I take you to your grandma’s house and let her give you a bath.”
“I no get bath,” Sammy said. “I not dirty.”
“So we go inside and I show you and Claire what I brought to trade you.”
Sammy turned around and opened the door, revealing Claire fast asleep in the upholstered rocking chair. Mackie Pea barked and jumped down from her lap, waking her up.
“Scott,” she said, clearly flustered. “Sammy? Were you leaving?”
Sammy wouldn’t look her in the eye. Scott smiled.
“Sammy’s slick,” he said.
“I didn’t even feel him get off my lap,” Claire said.
“Where’s it?” Sammy asked Scott.
Scott reached into his breast pocket and took out a skinny silver pen.
“I gots lotsa pens,” Sammy said, dismissing Scott’s potential trade.
“This pen is like the one astronauts use in space,” Scott said. “It writes upside down.”
“Do it,” Sammy said.
Scott took out his notepad, lay down on his back on the floor and motioned for Sammy to join him. Then he held the notepad up in the air above them and demonstrated writing upside down.
“I gots a pen do’s that,” Sammy insisted.
“Show me,” Scott said.
While Sammy went down the hall to retrieve his pen Scott looked up at a bemused Claire.
“You can see how we were all just put here to serve him,” he said.
“He’s the most powerful person in this town, apparently,” Claire said.
“It’s charisma,” Scott said. “I think he has real, viable political potential.”
Sammy came back down the hall, lay on his back next to Scott, and tried to write with his pen on the pad Scott suspended above them.
“It not work,” he said. “It broke.”
“No, watch this,” Scott said, and turned over on his stomach, put the pad on the floor and gestured for Sammy to try again. Sammy was surprised to find his pen worked. He looked at Scott’s pen with new appreciation.
“You’s pen’s magic?” he asked him.
Scott solemnly nodded.
Sammy took Scott’s pen, said, “Okay, I trade,” and then got up and ran down the hall with Mackie Pea right behind him.
Scott got up.
“He has a really gross owl pellet he can offer you,” Claire said, “or a one-legged mummified frog.”
“How will I decide?” Scott said. “How are you?”
“Exhausted, I guess. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“You’ve been through a lot.”
“Am I still a suspect?”
“Not to any sane person,” Scott said.
“But to Sarah.”
“She thinks it’s just a matter of time before your connection to the Fitzpatrick family murder syndicate is revealed.”
“Do Tuppy’s parents know?”
“They’re on their way.”
“This will devastate them,” she said.
“Did he have any romantic partners?”
“Only casual hookups or strategic favors. Tuppy’s very ambitious … was very ambitious. His sexual relationships were with whomever was the most insanely good-looking or could help him succeed in some way.”
“That sounds incredibly shallow.”
“It’s show business. If you aren’t psychotically devoted to succeeding you may as well stay home.”
“You don’t seem psychotic.”
“Sarah seems to think so.”
“Sammy’s been gone a long time,” Scott said, and went down the hall.
Claire heard him curse. She jumped up and ran down the hall to her parents’ bedroom, where Scott was looking out an open window.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Claire said. “It’s at least six feet to the ground.”
Scott pointed downward. Claire leaned out and saw that a cast iron gas meter was installed outside her parents’ bedroom, just below the window, at the perfect height for a small boy to climb out onto it and then lower himself to the ground.
“I’m starting to think he’s a middle-aged cat burglar in a toddler’s body,” Claire said. “He can’t be only three.”
“I’ll call Hannah,” Scott said. “I bet he’s headed home.”
“What makes you think that?”
“He took his treasure box with him.”
“And your pen.”
Scott swore again.
“You’re gonna have to pay him for every one of those swears, you know,” Claire said.
“It won’t be the first time,” Scott said.
They heard the front door open and a man called out, “Hey, anybody wanna buy a possum?”
Scott and Claire went down the hallway. Sam Campbell, Hannah’s husband and Sammy’s father, stood just inside the front door, dangling his son by his legs. He held the toddler, who was clutching his treasure box, out toward Scott and Claire.
“I’m marking him down for a quick sale,” he said.
Sammy laughed a deep belly laugh.
“Him’s my daddy,” Sammy said. “Him’s joking you.”
Sam put the little boy down on the floor and gestured behind him.
“Is that your dog?” he asked.
Mackie Pea was outside the front door, standing on her back legs, pawing frantically at the glass of the storm door, with Jax and Wally behind her, watching with what looked like amusement. When Claire let her in the little dog danced around Sammy and then jumped up and licked his face.
“You took my dog?” she asked Sammy.
“Mappy Pete likes me,” Sammy said. “Her wants to play with us.”
Scott looked up from watching Sammy with the dog and caught a look pass between Sam and Claire. It was over in a s
econd, but something about it struck Scott as odd. He wondered what that was about.
“We’re headed to Megamart to get this possum some new shoes,” Sam said. “Somehow all his shoes are missing except these cowboy boots.”
“I no like shoes,” Sammy said. “I likes boots.”
“Nevertheless,” Sam said. “We’re going to try again.”
Sam looked at Claire, and Scott was again struck by a quality he hadn’t expected to see in Sam’s eyes; it was tenderness.
“How are you?” Sam asked her.
Scott was immediately aware of the electricity dancing between Sam and Claire. It felt like something so intimate that he shouldn’t be allowed to witness it.
“I’m fine,” Claire said. “Other than the suspicion of murder hanging over my head, parents who seem to be falling apart, and losing your son three times today.”
“Come out to the farm tonight,” Sam said. “We’ll feed you and catch up.”
“Okay,” she said, and then both of them suddenly seemed to remember Scott was in the room.
“Thank you,” she said to Scott, “for everything.”
“I better get back to work,” Scott said. “I’ll let you know when I find out anything new.”
“See you later,” Sam said.
Scott left with an uneasy feeling and a burgeoning suspicion. Sam and Claire? When would that have happened?
Claire hated how unnerved she felt. She’d met movie star legends, for crissakes; men who made females (and many males) all around the world swoon with desire. She’d developed a cynical lens through which to view them, those charming rogues with smiles that didn’t extend to their calculating eyes. Good looks, charm, and charisma, she had come to understand, didn’t necessarily signify good character. In contrast, she had no resistance to her attraction to Sam Campbell, who had all of that in abundance.
After he left with Sammy she went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. She dried her face and looked herself in the eyes in the mirror.
“He’s married to one of the people you love most in this world,” she said.
“Who are you talking to?” asked Hannah as she came down the hallway.
Claire felt her face flush with shame.
“Myself,” she stammered. “It’s a bad habit.”
“I saw Sam on the way in. He says you’re coming out to the farm for dinner.”
“Is that okay?”
“Of course it is, silly. I’ll come get you after work and we’ll pick up some provisions, make an evening of it. It’s warm enough to sit outside for awhile, at least until the sun goes down. We’ll fire up the grill, drink some beers, and really get caught up.”
After dinner Hannah took Sammy in to put him to bed. Sam opened another beer for Claire and handed it to her.
“Hannah’s been telling me about your work with returning vets,” Claire said. “It sounds like a wonderful project.”
“It’s basically a workout room where we lift weights and do some physical therapy. The real benefit is them having someone to talk to who knows what it’s like to be a soldier in a war zone; someone who won’t judge them for what they think or feel. I wish I’d had the same when I came back,” Sam said. “The truth is it helps me as much as it helps them.”
“Hannah seems very happy,” Claire said. “You two seem settled.”
“I’m lucky to have her,” Sam said. “I certainly don’t deserve her.”
“Do you ever hear from Linda?”
“No,” Sam said. “She’s working in DC for some lobbyist, last I heard.”
“I looked at some old pictures this afternoon. There were several of you and Linda from high school; Homecoming, Prom … you know the ones.”
“I never told her about us,” he said.
“No need to,” Claire said, her heart beating a little faster. “It was just one of those crazy things teenagers do; too much moonlight, beer, and hormones.”
“I never told Hannah, either.”
“No need to,” Claire said. “I certainly never would.”
“I still think about it,” Sam said, “every time I go out there.”
“It seems like a hundred years ago.”
“It still seems like yesterday to me.”
“Oh, well,” Claire said. “No use thinking about it now.”
“Was that why you ran off to California with Pip?”
“No,” Claire said. “I thought I was in love with Pip. I thought California was where all my dreams would come true.”
“I sometimes wonder what would have happened if you’d stuck around,” he said, “or came back.”
“I don’t,” Claire said. “I think everything turned out just like it should have. I’m glad you and Hannah are happy.”
“I’ve already put her through more than any woman should have to put up with,” he said. “I’m not going to do anything that would hurt her or betray her trust.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Claire said, and held out her bottle to clink with his.
“Does it bother you knowing Pip’s with someone else?” he asked.
“I feel sorry for his wife,” she said, “but that’s all.”
“You’re not the least bit curious?”
“No,” Claire said. “The last time I saw him I was just reminded of what a stupid mistake I made. No one should be allowed to get married that young. If we’d just dated or lived together it wouldn’t be half so embarrassing now. I’m humiliated to think I was dumb enough to marry the guy.”
“He’s not that bad,” Sam said.
“He’s very handsome,” Claire said. “That was like a drug habit I had to kick.”
“Not the sharpest tool in the shed,” Sam said.
“Not by a long shot,” Claire said.
“Who are we talking about?” Hannah said as she came back out onto the porch.
“Pip,” Claire said.
“What a good-lookin’ idiot,” Hannah said. “I still can’t believe you married that doofus.”
Claire gestured as if to say, “What can I say?”
“I’m going to fix her up with Drew,” Hannah said.
“I think you should mind your own business,” Sam said, and then stood up. “You ladies enjoy the rest of the evening. I’m going to do some work.”
After he went inside Hannah said, “You’re one of the few women that Sam can stand to be around for very long; you, Maggie, and your mom; that’s about it.”
“How’s Maggie doing?”
“She’s gone back to school.”
“That’s good, right?”
“I guess,” Hannah shrugged. “She’s too busy to do anything fun anymore, and it’s made her a little stuck up.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, there’s this professor at Eldridge she’s got a big crush on. Talks down his nose at everyone and then looks like he’s in pain when anyone else talks. A drippy, snobby dweeb, if you ask me. He’s renting the apartment over Ava’s garage. Maggie’s over there every evening, playing scrabble, she says.”
“Is that a euphemism?”
“I doubt it. He sets off my gaydar.”
“What does Sean say?”
“He hasn’t met him yet. You think he’ll be able to tell?”
“Without a doubt,” Claire said. “No one has better gaydar than a gay man.”
“You can ask him tomorrow. We’re having a meeting of the Fitzpatrick cousins at the Thorn after church.”
“What are we meeting about?”
“Just a get-together; everyone wants to see you.”
“That’s sweet,” Claire said. “So Sean will be there?”
“He will. Sean’s going to move back here, you know.”
“He told me. I can’t imagine why.”
“It’s not such a bad place,” Hannah said. “His family’s here. His parents aren’t getting any younger, and neither are yours and mine. You ought to consider staying put, helping them out.”
“No,” Cl
aire shook her head. “After twenty years of indentured servitude I’m free to do anything I want and that does not include moving back to Rose Hill.”
“You don’t really want to be free of everybody and everything,” Hannah said. “That would be a lonely place to be.”
“I’ll stay for a good long visit,” Claire said, “and I’ll come back more often.”
“Your mom needs you here,” Hannah said. “She probably doesn’t want you to know how bad it is.”
“I’ve made a lot of money over the past twenty years. I just sold a beachfront condo for ten times what I paid for it. If Mom needs help I can hire it for her,” Claire said. “What she needs to do is quit working so she can look after dad.”
“You’ve changed,” Hannah said. “You sound kind of hard-hearted.”
“Things look different when you get outside this town,” Claire said. “Not everyone lives in their families’ back pockets the way our family does.”
“There’s a benefit to living that way,” Hannah said. “If you need help there are a dozen people you can call and any one of them will come running.”
“Yeah, and they’re the same dozen people who can vividly recall every stupid mistake you ever made; and there’s nothing more fun for them than to remind you every time they see you.”
“Plus there are pictures.”
“Not if I find them first.”
“We’re family,” Hannah said. “That means you always have somewhere to go and someone to take you in, no matter what.”
“I appreciate that, I do,” Claire said. “I’m just not done exploring what life has to offer.”
“You’re almost forty, cousin; it’s time to grow up.”
“I have grown up,” Claire said. “I just haven’t grown old.”
“You aren’t grown up,” Hannah said. “Until you put aside what you want for what’s best for someone you love, you don’t know the meaning of grown up. I grew up a little when I fell in love with a guy in a wheelchair, and then even more when I encouraged him to go to MIT even though I thought he’d probably never come back. When we went through a rough patch a few years ago I had to adjust my expectations in order to stay married, but I didn’t put on my real big girl panties until I had Sammy.”
“I’ve put my wants and desires second to Sloan Merryweather’s for the past twenty years. Before that it was whatever Pip wanted. I never got to do what I wanted.”
Peony Street Page 7
