Clarice came back into the room and closed the door behind her. Diana glanced up and said, “Penny has died, hasn’t she?”
Clarice looked at her in surprise, then sympathy. “Oh, heavens, no! Diana, dear, do you think your uncle and I would run off to church and lunch out and leave you and Willow alone if such a thing had happened? We haven’t heard anything from Jeffrey Cavanaugh, but as far as I know, Penny’s condition hasn’t changed.”
Diana realized she’d been holding her breath. She let it out and whispered, “Thank God.”
“Yes, well, that’s what I intend to do at church.” Clarice hovered near the foot of the bed. “Dear, there’s something I need to discuss with you. I wasn’t certain, but I talked with your uncle after you went to bed—after he tucked that fearsome gun away in the fancy box—and he told me you had a right to know what I’ve been withholding from you. Not for very long, but withholding, nevertheless.”
Clarice looked miserable, twining her fingers together, frowning, her violet gaze direct but also reluctant. Diana motioned to the chair across from her bed.
“Have a seat and tell me, Clarice. And please don’t look so unhappy. I’m sure what you have to say can’t be that dreadful.”
“I hope it isn’t.” The woman sat down and looked at her directly. “It’s about Glen.”
“Glen?” Diana repeated in surprise. “Glen Austen?”
“Yes. I didn’t know his name or his connection to you until he came by here yesterday when he heard about Penny. I’ve seen him before, though, Diana.” Clarice hesitated. “I’ve seen him come to Penny’s house.”
“Glen and I took Penny with us to dinner at the country club in May. We picked her up at her house. . . .”
Clarice shook her head. “Not then. Later. When you asked me the night of the explosion if I’d seen anyone come to Penny’s house, I hesitated. Then Simon said he’d been to the house to leave food for Penny the week Willow was in the hospital.
“I didn’t say anything more at the time, but I’ve seen Glen come to her house four times starting around two months ago,” Clarice continued in a hesitant voice. “Two of those times, Willow had told me she was spending the night with her friend. Each time Glen came, he stayed at least an hour. Another time, Penny had just come home from a lecture held at the university and she’d left Willow with me. Glen arrived immediately after she’d pulled in her driveway. They went inside and he stayed about an hour.”
Clarice looked at Diana cautiously, as if she expected a cry of distress or a stricken expression. When Diana didn’t respond, the woman went on a bit more confidently. “After he left, Penny rushed over, apologizing profusely, and saying someone she knew from a class she took during the school year had been at the lecture, too, and simply invited himself home with her.
“But she was flustered and embarrassed and I knew she was lying, Diana. I knew it and I was surprised,” Clarice went on. “I could not understand why Penny would lie to me if she’d met someone she liked, someone she wanted to date. She would have known I’d be happy for her. I was also puzzled that although he’d been to her house before, they didn’t seem to be having a normal dating relationship.” Clarice took a breath. “Do you want me to go on, Diana? You look pale. . . .”
“I’m surprised but I’m fine,” Diana said flatly. “I want to hear it all.”
“All right. The last time I saw Glen was Wednesday night—two nights before the explosion. He arrived around nine o’clock—it was still barely light out. The evening was cooler than usual and so quiet. I’d turned off the air conditioning and raised my window and . . . well, I was spying, I might as well admit it.”
Clarice colored faintly. “Penny didn’t immediately let him inside. I overheard her saying she was tired after spending so long at the hospital with Willow, she didn’t feel well and would just like to go to bed, but Glen said he’d only stay a few minutes. From what I could see, he had pushed himself halfway in all ready. Finally, Penny opened the door.
“I’m not ashamed to say I kept watching,” Clarice said almost defiantly. “Glen had been so . . . well, almost aggressive when Penny obviously wanted to be alone. I was worried about her. Then I saw another car pull up and park across the street. By then daylight was almost gone and I couldn’t see the figure in the car until the door opened briefly. Someone got out, looking as if they were going to Penny’s, hesitated and then got back in the car. When the car’s inside lights came on, though, I saw that the driver was a young woman. You can imagine how astonished I was when on Saturday morning your housekeeper arrived and she turned out to be the woman I’d seen watching Glen when he was at Penny’s—Nan Murphy.”
By now Diana was sitting so far forward on the side of her bed that she slid and almost fell on the floor. She caught herself and Clarice gasped. “Oh, dear, I’ve shocked you! I told Simon this would be too much for you. Please don’t faint, Diana. Glen isn’t worth one of your tears.”
Diana scooted back on the bed, but her thoughts spun so fast for a moment that she couldn’t form a coherent sentence. Meanwhile Clarice went into the bathroom and came back with a Dixie cup full of cold water. “Sip this slowly,” she ordered. “Oh, I just feel terrible for upsetting you, but Simon said you could handle it, you can handle anything. He thinks the sun rises and sets on you and somehow you’re not like other women at all—you’re emotionally stronger and able to cope with all situations and—”
“Clarice, I’m all right,” Diana finally interrupted. “I’m not all those things Simon would like to think I am, but I certainly can handle the news that Glen was pursuing another woman. Or maybe two other women.” Diana tried for a smile, although she was still too stunned for it to be genuine. “Clarice, I have no strong feelings for Glen. I like him but I’ve just been drifting along with him for months, too lazy to break things off between us. I was never in love with him—not even close. Honestly, I’m not hurt and you mustn’t feel bad for telling me all of this. Simon was right—I needed to know.”
“Oh, thank goodness.” Clarice dropped back onto the chair and began fanning herself with a magazine she’d grabbed from Diana’s nightstand. “I could hardly sleep last night—I’d seen both Nan and Glen yesterday and I realized they had a connection even though Glen appeared to be your young man. I just had to ask for Simon’s advice because he knows you better than anyone does. Even when Simon said I should tell you, though, I wasn’t sure.”
“You did the right thing.” Diana paused then began talking almost to herself. “Penny knew exactly how I felt about Glen. I don’t know why if he’d begun to pay attention to her, she wouldn’t have told me. She couldn’t possibly have thought I would be hurt.”
“Penny seems to have had many secrets,” Clarice said sadly. “I wonder if any of us really knew her.”
“Well, I know most people would think I’m an absolute fool for believing this, but I think we knew the real Penny—her soul or spirit or whatever you want to call it, which lay buried under all her secrets. I can’t help feeling that she was essentially a good person, but something had her trapped, Clarice. After all, she didn’t run off with Jeffrey Cavanaugh’s money. Also it’s easy to say Penny taught Willow to fear Jeffrey so Willow would never go looking for him, but Penny wouldn’t terrify her five-year-old daughter just so she’d never seek out Jeffrey when she got older. That would be cruel, and Penny was not cruel, I don’t care what anyone says. I believe she had a good reason for leaving Cavanaugh. Maybe another man was involved, but Penny felt that flight and a life of concealment were the only way to escape Jeffrey. And something or someone had her scared out of her mind this week.”
“But it couldn’t have been Jeffrey,” Clarice said. “He didn’t know where she was until after the explosion.”
“Or so he says. I don’t like him and I don’t trust him. I don’t trust any of them—not Jeffrey, not Blake, not Lenore.” And not Tyler Raines, Diana knew she should add, but for some reason she couldn’t include him with the Ca
vanaugh group. She didn’t know what part he played in this drama, but he didn’t seem to fit with the three people she’d met last night.
“As for Glen . . .” Diana shrugged. “For some reason, I can’t imagine Penny being attracted to Glen. He’s not at all the kind of man I would pick for her. Of course, I dated him for months, and he isn’t the kind of man I’d fall in love with, either. And as you said, they certainly weren’t having a normal dating relationship. A few sexual trysts? Maybe. After all, Glen and I weren’t involved sexually.” Clarice turned pink again. “Maybe Glen was wildly attracted to Penny. Frankly, I just wasn’t paying enough attention to him to notice.”
“He’s a nice-looking young man,” Clarice offered weakly. “And he’s your uncle’s good friend.”
“Uncle Simon likes him—that’s not the same as Simon considering him a good friend. He wasn’t even too happy that I dated Glen for so long. He always told me I should be seeing someone else—someone with ‘fire.’ ” Diana smiled ruefully. “If Glen was involved with both Nan and Penny, I guess Simon underestimated his amount of fire.”
Clarice glanced down at her clasped hands, clearly embarrassed. “Well, I wouldn’t know. When I spoke with Glen yesterday, I really wasn’t thinking of him in those terms,” she said almost primly.
Clarice’s head jerked up when Diana laughed. “No, I guess you weren’t! My lord, how astounded you must have been when he arrived presenting himself as my boyfriend. After you’d already discovered the woman who’d followed him to Penny’s—Nan—was our temporary housekeeper, I don’t know how you managed to maintain your composure at all. You’re a wonder, Clarice!”
Clarice smiled. “I don’t think I’m a wonder, dear. I was terribly uncomfortable having to talk to him while Simon went up to Willow’s room to get you. I fled the library as soon as you arrived.”
Diana let the silence hang, thinking. Then she asked, “When Nan was parked outside of Penny’s house, did Glen see her when he left?”
“Oh, no. She’d started her car and crept away around ten minutes before he came out the front door.”
“What was Glen’s parting with Penny like? Did he kiss her at the door?”
“Heavens, no! Penny’s screen door flung back so hard it hit the house. Glen stomped out onto her porch, stood for a minute, then turned around and nearly yelled, ‘You’re making a big mistake, Penny.’ ”
Diana stared at Clarice. “He said she was making a big mistake?” Clarice nodded. “Of course, you couldn’t know what he meant. Maybe it was her leaving Huntington. Simon was in her house—he said packed boxes were sitting around. Glen would have seen them. He would have known Penny was leaving even if she hadn’t told him.”
“Glen could have thought she was just moving to a different house. Maybe she was.”
“If that were so, she would have told one of us. She didn’t tell you, Uncle Simon, or me. And why would Glen think that was a big mistake? Also, don’t forget she did say something to me and to you that sounded as if she’d never see us again.” Diana shook her head. “I’m sure Penny wasn’t moving to a different neighborhood, Clarice. She was on the run again.”
“And Glen didn’t want her to go.”
“Either that, or he didn’t want her to go and leave him out of the picture. Even if she was having a sexual relationship with him, if she thought she needed to get out of town, she probably wouldn’t tell him where she was going. That would let him know just how little she cared about him. Or maybe she was leaving because of him. That would really set him off because Glen does not react well to rejection.”
“Oh my,” Clarice almost whispered. “Do you think he’s capable of violence?”
“I really don’t know. Then, to top off the mess, Nan knew Glen was seeing Penny. She watched him that very night.” Diana hesitated, suddenly feeling as if something hard and cold was settling in her stomach. “Clarice,” she said softly, “Glen got mad at Penny, and Nan saw Glen at Penny’s house on Wednesday night. Tempers must have been running hot. On Thursday night, I got a call from Penny saying she must talk to me—it was a matter of life and death.”
Clarice’s eyes widened. “Do you mean on Thursday night she was afraid because either Glen or Nan had threatened her?”
“Maybe,” Diana said vaguely, but she wasn’t thinking about threats. She was thinking about the bomb that had exploded in Penny’s home the very next night.
CHAPTER TEN
1
Diana and Willow walked out to bid Simon and Clarice good-bye as they set off for church. Willow waved as if they were leaving on a world tour. When they’d cleared the driveway, Diana took a deep breath, proclaimed it a beautiful morning, and suggested they amble around the lawn. When they came to the oak tree where Tyler Raines had stood, Diana found two mashed cigarette butts. She picked them up, certain he’d stayed longer than to smoke only two cigarettes. He’d collected the rest of the butts.
“Have the squirrels that live in the tree started smokin’?” Willow asked.
“I certainly hope not. Cigarettes could give them lung cancer.”
“But if they did start smokin’, where would they buy their cigarettes?”
“Shop-a-Minute,” Diana returned straight-faced.
Willow laughed. “No, they wouldn’t! Shop-a-Minute wouldn’t sell cigarettes to squirrels!”
“You never know,” Diana said seriously. “They’ll do anything to make a dollar.”
“Is that how much a pack of cigarettes costs?”
“More. Or three acorns, unless the price has gone up recently to four acorns.”
Willow, still in stitches at their silliness as they entered the house, soon settled down to tell the cats a story, while Diana went into another room and found the telephone directory. She looked up the number for Al Meeks, found only one listing for Al’s Best Barbecue and another for Albert Meeks. She hesitated about calling now—maybe this afternoon would be better—but her fingers pushed numbers almost without her realizing it. A moment later, a man’s deep, scratchy voice said, “Hello there! What can I do for you?”
“Mr. Meeks?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“May I speak with Tyler, please? Tyler Raines?”
After a moment, Al Meeks said hesitantly, “Well, he’s not here right now.”
So surprised by his not asking who Tyler Raines was, Diana felt temporarily thrown. After a beat, she asked, “Do you know when he’ll be back?”
“No.”
Too quick, too definite, Diana thought. Now Al was lying.
“I see. Mr. Meeks, I’m Diana Sheridan. I ate in your restaurant four or five times with Penny and Willow Conley.”
“Oh! Diana Sheridan! Sure, I remember you.” Immediately the enthusiasm left his voice. “My God, I’m sick about what happened to poor Penny. I just loved that girl. Thank the lord little Willow was spared.” He paused. “And you! Tyler told me how you missed bein’ in that house by less than five minutes.”
So Tyler Raines did know Al Meeks. Tyler had even told Al the details of the night of the explosion. She’d been sure, so sure, that Tyler was lying about knowing Al. She could feel the man on the other end of the connection waiting for her to say something. “I was supposed to be at Penny’s house over an hour earlier, but I was late. If I hadn’t been and Willow hadn’t crawled out a window to get lightning bugs for her mother, there would have been two more casualties that night. Not that Penny is dead, but . . .”
Annoyed, Diana felt tears ready to flow again. She would not burst into sobs on the phone with a man she barely knew. She swallowed hard and said, “The doctors say there’s no change in Penny. She’s still unconscious. Of course, no one can see her or even get direct information about her except family members.”
“What a shame,” Al said mournfully. “I’ll be prayin’ for Penny.”
“I’m sure she’d appreciate that. And it’s really why I called. Not about praying, but to express my appreciation and Clarice Hanson’s, and
what I know would be Penny’s, for all the help Tyler was that night. He pulled my car away from the fire, he went into Clarice’s house, which was burning, and carried her out—”
“He did what?” Al nearly shouted.
“He carried Clarice Hanson out of her burning house.”
“That boy! He didn’t say a word about doin’ a thing like that. Well, I’ll be! Just like his grandpa. We were great friends. Guess it’s better he died quite a few years ago. It would’ve broken his heart if he’d known what Tyler went through when he was younger.”
“What Tyler went through?”
She could almost see Al Meeks’s expression growing wary. “Oh, never mind me. I’m just an old man who talks too much. Well listen, Miss Sheridan, I’ll tell Tyler you called and thanked him for his help. He’ll like that.” He paused. “He’s a good boy, Miss Sheridan. I’d be proud to call him my own grandson.”
“Could I ask one more question, Mr. Meeks?”
“Sorry, the Missus here is nearly pullin’ me out the door. Time for church. Thanks for callin’ Miss Sheridan. You take care now. Good-bye to you.”
“And good-bye to you,” Diana said softly as she hung up the phone, Al’s words echoing in her mind: He’s a good boy . . . I’d be proud to call him my own grandson.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” she muttered, shaking her head and smiling.
2
“Can we go visit Mommy today?”
Diana looked at Willow, turned out in navy blue shorts, a blue-and-pink blouse with flutter sleeves, and her rhinestone crown. “I don’t think they’re letting your mother have visitors yet,” Diana said as she held the Sunday morning newspaper. The front page bore a banner headline about a bomb causing the explosion of a house in the Rosewood neighborhood. She no longer had to keep the secret.
You Can Run... Page 16
