Hollyhock Ridge

by Pamela Grandstaff

  “What about Hannah’s mother?”

  “Aunt Alice relaxes on the beach all morning, naps in her bedroom all afternoon, and then reclines in a lawn chair on the veranda all evening. She has to take her ‘nerve pills,’ of course, and they make her sleepy.”

  “Do you think there’s anything actually wrong with Alice?”

  “She’s had every medical test there is and no one can find anything physically wrong with her. When we were growing up she was always dumping her kids on Aunt Bonnie or my mom. It’s like she can’t cope with real life.”

  “She’s always been an introverted kind of person; hard to get to know.”

  “She’s my aunt and I love her but she’s a difficult person to be around.”

  “I was surprised Maggie and Scott invited everyone down there. Everything all right?”

  “Maggie said they’ve had a great time; they were just getting homesick. Hannah invited herself down and before you knew it they were renting a van and taking everybody.”

  “Well, not you, Patrick, or Melissa.”

  “Somebody’s got to run the family businesses, take care of all the pets, and I have to look after Dad. Mom needed a vacation more than anyone.”

  “As long as I’m stirring up trouble,” Kay said. “What’s going on between you and Laurie?”

  Claire’s face flushed and had the guiltiest look.

  “Oh my,” Kay said. “You better tell me about it so I don’t invite you both to dinner again.”

  “It’s so stupid,” Claire said. “Stupid of me, that is. You know after Maggie and Scott’s wedding I got caught up in that awful FBI thing with Knox and Anne Marie.”

  “You must have been scared to death,” Kay said. “I’m not sure if the federal agents are making things better or worse.”

  “After Sean and I got back from the State Park, everyone had already left the party at the Rose and Thorn. We missed the whole thing. I was too wound up to go home, and Patrick was worn out, so I offered to bartend for him until closing. There were just a few locals left, you know, Pudge and his pals, and someone I didn’t know was sitting down at the end of the bar. Patrick said if anyone gave me any trouble I should ask him for help, that he was a good guy.”

  “Laurie?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing much. He teased me about the mud on my shirt and my scraped knees, and tried to guess what I did for a living by reading my palm.”

  “He flirted with you,” Kay said. “No harm in that.”

  “We talked a while, and then we danced a little.”

  “Which is what he was alluding to at dinner.”

  “It was my favorite song, you see,” Claire said. “Chris Isaac’s ‘Wicked Game.’ Do you know it?”

  “I do,” Kay said. “Kind of dark but terribly romantic.”

  “We danced, he walked me home, we looked at the moon; it was that big moon we had in June, the whatsit?”

  “Super moon.”

  “That’s the one,” Claire said. “He kissed my hand and then later sent me a text with a link to “Claire De Lune,” by Debussy.”

  “Which he also worked into the conversation tonight.”

  “He’s torturing me.”

  “He’s got a crush on you,” Kay said. “But he knows you’re dating Ed so he won’t take it any further.”

  “Except on the walk home that night I may have shared a few doubts I have on that subject.”

  “You have doubts about Ed?”

  “I have a personality disorder,” Claire said. “I have one perfectly lovely almost-boyfriend who is a stand-up, dependable man, and yet I would risk that for a recently divorced widower cop with a drinking problem.”

  “You must have heard gossip about that.”

  “Please,” Claire said. “I grew up with a cop for a father in a family that owns a bar. I know all the signs. Plus, he as much as told me.”

  “His first wife was a lovely woman.”

  “So he said.”

  “He was devastated when she died.”

  “So much so that he dove into a bottle and came back up with wife number two.”

  “Daphne,” Kay said. “She’s way too young for him, and cheated on him with his best friend, who also worked for him.”

  “So he quit rather than fire the guy.”

  “He was honest with me when I interviewed him for the temp job,” Kay said. “He assured me he had his drinking under control.”

  “Maybe he does,” Claire said. “I’ve been avoiding him since that night. He didn’t tell me he was a policeman or that he was subbing for Scott. He said he was starting a new job in a month, working for the city of Pendleton.”

  “Which wasn’t a lie.”

  “You’re defending him.”

  “I hired him,” Kay said, “and that was all true.”

  “If he had said what he did for a living, I would not have continued to flirt with him.”

  “What concerns me most are these reservations you have about Ed.”

  “Ed is still married to Eve.”

  “Legally, maybe, but they haven’t lived together for over a decade,” Kay said. “Everybody knows that.”

  “I didn’t know until right before Maggie’s wedding.”

  “Doesn’t Eve live in Atlanta?”

  “She works for a 24-hour news channel now, so she’s headed this way to cover the FBI investigation. Ed says Congressman Green and Senator Bayard are involved so it’s a national news story.”

  “I’ve never met her,” Kay said. “I hear she’s very pretty.”

  “I hate her already,” Claire said. “The bottom line is Ed’s not an option until he’s legally divorced and I know she’s out of his life for good.”

  “But what about Laurie?”

  “I’ve given myself a thorough talking-to on that subject, every day for three weeks. I just have to take myself firmly by the hand and lead myself away from danger. I can do it if I keep focused and stay away from him. In only one more week he’ll be gone.”

  “Pendleton’s not that far away.”

  “He won’t have any reason to come back here, and I’ve made it clear that I have no interest in getting involved with him.”

  “He’s infatuated,” Kay said. “It almost doesn’t matter what you say when someone feels that way.”

  “Any two blockheads,” Claire said. “Isn’t that what Dottie said?”

  “He’s a good man,” Kay said. “He and his first wife had one of those caring, competent marriages.”

  “Speaking of good men,” Claire said. “I saw Sonny giving you the adoring looks over dinner. That man is sweet on you.”

  “Nonsense,” Kay said. “He’s just being kind to an old family friend.”

  “He’s single and ready to mingle,” Claire said.

  “Hush,” Kay said. “He’s just a good friend.”

  “He’d be perfect for you,” Claire said. “He’s a big ole handy man who can see to things around here, and I don’t just mean the house.”

  “Stop it,” Kay said. “It probably doesn’t mean anything.”

  But secretly, Kay hoped it did.

  Earlier, Claire had been unhappy to find Laurie had followed her into the kitchen to get dessert.

  “What are you doing?” she asked him.

  “I’m attempting to talk to you alone, which is the last thing you want, if the past few weeks are any indication. It’s enough to make a man feel unwanted. It’s lowering my already rock bottom self-esteem.”

  “There’s nothing to say,” Claire said. “You’re leaving in a week and whatever happened between us is not going to be repeated.”

  “You think it was just a transient lunar phenomenon,” he said. “I think it was the beginning of something beautiful.”

  “I’m not interested,” she said.

  “Liar,” he said.

  “You remind me of Pepe le Pew,” Claire said. “It was funny when I was little but tha
t was before I knew about sexual harassment.”

  “Mon chéri,” he said with a French accent. “Let us flee to Capri.”

  He took a step closer, effectively trapping her against the sink.

  “Stop it, Laurie,” she said, and pushed him away.

  “Flirt,” he said.

  Later on, as she was walking home from Kay’s house, Claire ran into Professor Alan Richmond, the drama department chair who was ostensibly helping her get hired to teach theater and film hair and makeup at Eldridge College.

  “Good even, my dainty primrose,” he said. “I am looking much forward to the pub quiz this evening.”

  “Did you assemble a team?”

  “I have,” he said. “And what jovial, nimble-pinioned lads they be. I think you’ll like them and I know they’ll like you.”

  “Have you heard anything about the position?”

  “Nary a whisper,” he said. “But remember, the wheels of academia move slowly and little is accomplished quickly.”

  “See you tonight,” she said.

  “Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be pub quiz hour.”

  Claire left her father in Melissa’s capable hands and arrived at the Rose and Thorn fifteen minutes early for game night. Her cousin Patrick, a big, blue-eyed, dark-haired charmer, was bartending. He was also flirting with a slender young woman with a pixie haircut who wore a peasant blouse and heavy, black-framed glasses. Among other visible tattoos on her body, she had a large owl on her chest, and multiple piercings in her ears, nose, and eyebrows.

  The young woman looked Claire up and down in a not-too-friendly way, but then thawed a little as soon as Patrick introduced Claire as his cousin.

  “Arwyn Abramowicz,” the woman said as she stuck out her hand.

  Claire shook her tiny hand, and as she did so, noticed multiple scars on the young woman’s wrist and arms. Arwyn saw her notice.

  “I’m a professional chef,” she said. “Those are my war wounds.”

  Claire thought the burn scars were probably related to the woman’s profession, but the profusion of small cuts might symbolize something much more disturbing. She had once been acquainted with a young actress who cut herself in order to deal with the post-traumatic stress disorder she had acquired from submitting to so many demeaning casting couch experiences. Before filming each day, it had taken the better part of an hour to cover up her cuts, just like those on Arwyn’s arms, and had required thick, waterproof makeup. This same actress had used Adderall to stay thin, cocaine to stay awake, and Trazodone to sleep.

  “Arwyn owns the Pine Mountain Diner,” Patrick said, and opened his eyes wide at Claire behind Arwyn’s back.

  Claire knew he was begging her not to mention how much he hated everything on their menu.

  “That’s great,” said Claire. “I’ve eaten there several times but I’ve never seen you. You must stay busy in the kitchen.”

  Arwyn raised an eyebrow at Claire as if what she’d just said was too idiotic and obvious to require a response, and then abruptly turned around to resume flirting with Patrick.

  ‘Okay,’ Claire said to herself. ‘There were two bitch indicators in under one minute; I think we’re done here.’

  Claire turned as Professor Richmond came in with what looked very much like two more Eldridge professors. They did not wear pocket protectors, nor were their pants too short, but they emitted that indefinable something that instantly told Claire they were not from Rose Hill.

  “May I present Torbjörn Vilhelmsdotter-Holjer,” Dr. Richmond said. “Doctor of Philosophy.”

  “Please call me Torby,” the man said, with a shy smile, as he shook Claire’s hand.

  He looked like a blond, Scandinavian giant, and his accent confirmed it.

  “I am from Sweden,” he said.

  “And this is Professor Ulrich Von Nedermyer,” Dr. Richmond said. “He teaches physics.”

  “Please call me Ned,” he said, as he shook Claire’s hand.

  Ned was short, with a balding head and a full beard. He was wearing dark socks with his sandals, and his German accent was pronounced.

  “Are you from Germany?” Clair asked.

  “My mother is from West Switzerland and my father from the North, so I speak French with a German accent,” Ned said. “It is confusing for me as well.”

  Claire introduced the trio to Patrick, and then Arwyn, who scanned them, seemed to decide they weren’t worthy of her notice, and abruptly turned her attention to her phone instead of making conversation.

  “We’re here to play,” Doctor Richmond said. “Such is a game we play, and so we test our strength. Shakespeare.”

  “Time is a game played beautifully by children,” Torby said. “Heraclitus.”

  “The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.” Ned said. “Einstein.”

  “You never know what day could pick you, baby, out of the air, out of nowhere,” said Arwyn, without looking up from her phone. “Sun Kil Moon.”

  There was a pause while everyone digested that.

  “Oh,” said Arwyn, looking up. “I thought anyone could play. Guess not.”

  “Have a seat,” Claire said to the Eldridge professors. “We’ll get started as soon as everyone’s here.”

  “You need to choose your team name,” Patrick said. “What can I get you to drink?”

  The professors placed their drink orders and got settled in a booth just as Laurie and veterinarian Drew Rosen came in.

  Drew looked more like a tourist, dressed as he was in hiking clothes. He had longish brown hair and the burnished look of someone who spent a lot of time in the sun. Arwyn perked up when she saw him, and immediately transferred her focus from Patrick to Drew.

  Patrick introduced them to Arwyn, who merely glanced at Laurie before commandeering Drew and steering him toward a booth.

  “You’re obviously not from here,” she said to him as they went. “What’s your story?”

  Laurie stood a little too close to Claire, and she stepped away.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll behave.”

  “I didn’t know you were playing,” Claire said.

  “I left Gonzo and Fozzie in charge at the station,” Laurie said, “in case there are any jaywalking incidents to be investigated.”

  “They’re trained deputies,” Claire said.

  “Children shouldn’t be allowed to carry guns,” Laurie said.

  “Maybe you’ll have a seasoned crew in Pendleton,” she said.

  “They couldn’t be any worse,” he said.

  Drew beckoned him over so Laurie went to join the others.

  “I guess my team isn’t coming,” Claire said.

  “They’ll be here,” Patrick said. “I talked to Sam earlier, and you know Ed never misses a game. What in the hell else does he have to do?”

  Claire served everyone their drinks, and then sat at the bar next to Pudge.

  “I guess you heard Matt Delvecchio’s wife’s gone missin’,” Pudge said.

  He spoke low, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear.

  “No, I hadn’t heard that,” Claire said. “What happened?”

  “Left the house this morning before the sun came up and never came back.”

  “That’s odd,” Claire said. “I thought she was afraid to leave the house.”

  “Oh, she’ll go out if it suits her,” he said. “She never misses a flea market or a tag sale. She only takes a fit of being a-feared if it’s somewhere she don’t wanna go, like her only daughter’s wedding, or to see her grandchildren. That woman’s selfish, cold, and turned funny, and that’s a fact.”

  “Maybe she’ll come back,” Claire said. “It hasn’t been twenty-four hours yet so the police can’t get involved.”

  “Kay was the last person to see her alive,” Pudge said, and raised his eyebrows as if that was alarming news. “Saw Diedre driving down Peony Street,
’round five-thirty this morning.”

  “So she saw her drive by,” Claire said. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

  “What people are asking is what was Kay Templeton doing outside that early in the morning?” Pudge said.

  “Surely no one thinks Kay had anything to do with Diedre’s disappearance.”

  “Kay’s been carrying a torch for Matt Delvecchio since high school,” Pudge said. “It’s kind of interesting that she’d be the last person to see his wife alive.”

  “Diedre may not be dead,” Claire said. “She may have just run off somewhere.”

  Pudge shook his head.

  “Diedre Delvecchio’s an odd duck, that’s for sure,” he said. “But she is not the type to run off. She just wouldn’t. Mark my word: that woman is dead.”

  “Matt must be frantic,” Claire said.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Pudge said. “He might be kind of relieved. You ever see the inside of that house?”

  “No,” Claire said. “But I’ve heard.”

  “They had a plumbing problem a couple a years back, and Matt called me rather than his own brother; there’s some bad blood there, on account of Sonny’s divorce. I tell you, that house would give a pack rat claustrophobia. I’ve never seen anything like it. Stuff piled up to the ceiling, with just enough space to walk though each room. It’s just like on one of those shows.”

  “Well, Kay had nothing to do with her disappearance,” Claire said. “You know that, right?”

  Pudge shrugged.

  “All I know is what I hear,” he said. “And I hear Sonny was there, too, which makes it all the more interesting.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Everyone knows Sonny’s got a grudge against Diedre,” Pudge said. “Diedre helped Karla hide her affair for months before she left Sonny. They pretended to go places together when Karla was meeting her boyfriend.”

  “Doesn’t Diedre work for Sonny?”

  “That she does,” Pudge said. “Now ain’t that interesting?”

  “I assume all these people are your friends?” Claire asked.

  “Why, sure,” Pudge said. “I grew up with the Delvecchio boys.”