“Very good.”
“Mr. Fitzpatrick is not available,” Melissa said. “May I take a message?”
“Melissa,” Claire said. “Did it hurt your feelings that I suggested you improve your grammar.”
“Course it did,” she said. “Nobody likes to be told they’re not good enough for something.”
“I’m sorry,” Claire said. “I stuck my nose in where I shouldn’t have.”
“I ain’t mad at you,” Melissa said. “I’m thinking of it like you said; I can pretend to be a secretary who talks good all day, and then talk like myself the rest of the time. It’ll be my job to talk good.”
“Well,” Claire said.
“What?”
“Never mind,” Claire said. “Just so you know, I love you just the way you are, as does everyone else.”
“Thanks, Claire. I love y’all, too.”
Claire considered the list of phone numbers she had given Ed. She knew anyone in Rose Hill wouldn’t hesitate to share all they knew with Ed; they’d known him all his life or theirs. This didn’t include Marigold Lawson, whose run for mayor was not supported by the local paper. The attorneys would claim client privilege until they received legal proof of Knox’s death and a subpoena.
She knew Anne Marie from way back in the Hollywood days when Claire was Sloan’s assistant. Anne Marie had been Sloan’s go-to psychic, and Sloan had promoted her services to the Hollywood contingent of the California New Age community. Claire wasn’t sure who’s side Anne Marie was currently on visa vie the murder of Courtenay by her assistant, Jeremy, or if she blamed Claire for helping the FBI nab Jeremy, but it was worth a try.
“Claire Fitzpatrick,” Anne Marie said, in a warmer tone than Claire expected. “I’ve been thinking about you all day; I’m not surprised to hear from you.”
“Have they called you about Knox?”
“I got the call this afternoon,” Anne Marie said. “I wasn’t shocked, of course. My ex-husband has created quit the deficit of karma, wouldn’t you say? The universe has a way of rebalancing such inequalities.”
“Nonetheless, I’m sorry for your loss,” Claire said. “Had you heard from him lately?”
“He called me this morning to ask for money,” Anne Marie said. “I told him that until after the trial I thought we should limit our communications to those made through our attorneys. I don’t want to compromise my case by making what might look like an inappropriate remuneration.”
“I guess he didn’t like that.”
“Patience has never been one of Knox’s virtues, if he had any to begin with.”
“Did he tell you anything else?”
“He told me Meredith was skulking around town, and that made him nervous. He said Trick was driving him crazy, as usual, and Stuart was distancing himself in a way that concerned him. I think he was finally facing the consequences of his actions, and realizing he could no longer maneuver his way out of the destiny he had created for himself.”
“Jeremy implicated you and Knox in Mamie Rodefeffer’s death,” Claire said. “Aren’t you worried about that?”
“No, darling,” Anne Marie said. “My guides tell me not to worry, so I don’t. I didn’t do anything wrong, and my karma is balanced, so there’s nothing to fear. My attorneys are expensive and aggressive, as well, and that never hurts.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Claire said.
“I had the weirdest vision of you today, during my afternoon meditation,” Anne Marie said. “You were in a small boat on the ocean in a storm, and there were two drowning men, one clinging to each side, begging you to save them. There was only room in the boat for one man.”
“What did I do?”
“You were paralyzed with indecision,” Anne Marie said. “One man was young and had a family at home who needed him, and the other was old and had no one.”
“But what did I do?”
“I don’t know,” Anne Marie said. “That was all it consisted of, just this horrible choice you had to make, and you being unable to make it.”
“Do you see anything else?”
“I’m not really on tonight,” Anne Marie said. “I had a veggie pizza with a lot of onions and peppers on it so my instrument is all wonky.”
“Well, thanks for the vision, I guess,” Claire said. “Was there anyone Knox was afraid of, particularly, that he mentioned?”
“Other than the FBI, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“He was feeling pretty paranoid,” Anne Marie said. “He seemed to think the senator’s people might be out to get him. Senator Bayard hadn’t been returning Knox’s phone calls, and Knox said there’s been a dark car following him around town. That may only have been his guilty conscience manifesting as a hallucination.”
Claire didn’t tell Anne Marie she had seen the car up close and personal, and it was very real.
“Anyone else?”
“Oh, you know Knox,” Anne Marie said. “He makes enemies like Mother Nature makes dandelions.”
“Do you think he will contact you from the other side?”
“Quite possibly,” Anne Marie said. “He may not even know he’s passed, yet.”
Claire shuddered as she thought of Knox as a hungry ghost, wandering around Rose Hill, looking for weak people to take over. What would he miss doing most?
“It’s uncharitable to say, but his death may mean the end of my legal problems,” Anne Marie said.
“Has the FBI been bothering you?”
“Not a bit,” Anne Marie said. “I assume they’re listening in right now, so I’d just like to thank them for that.”
Claire felt her stomach turn as she realized that Anne Marie was probably right.
“Don’t worry,” Anne Marie said. “I see a bright light shining all around you. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Except for that boat thing; that was freaky.”
Claire was already in bed when her phone rang. She smiled when she saw Scott’s name.
“Hey, buddy!” she said when she answered. “How’s it going down there?”
“I can’t leave you all alone for five minutes before people are running around getting themselves killed,” he said. “What in the hell was Pip doing up at Knox’s?”
Claire explained it all to Scott, and he was silent for a few moments when she finished.
“Are you still there?” she asked.
“Do you think I should come home early?” he asked.
“No, don’t do that,” Claire said. “You’ll be back on Sunday, and surely things won’t get any worse by then.”
“How’s Laurie doing?”
Claire paused.
“Uh oh,” Scott said. “Dammit. I was hoping he would keep it together.”
Claire told Scott what she had found at his house that afternoon.
“I hate to hear that,” Scott said.
“He needs to go to rehab,” Claire said, “but he thinks he’ll lose his job if he does.”
“He probably would,” Scott said. “I wish that wasn’t a real possibility but it is.”
“I don’t know how to help him,” Claire said. “What can I do?”
“I don’t know,” Scott said. “I’ll talk to him when I get back, but I don’t know how much good it will do.”
“He’s not doing it on the job.”
“You know as well as I do that job is 24-7.”
“I know.”
“He starts in Pendleton on Monday?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, I’ll see what I can do,” Scott said. “Listen, the reason I called is because I couldn’t get ahold of Laurie and I didn’t want to call Sarah, but I have some information that might help in the investigation into Knox’s murder.”
“How can I help?”
“When you see Laurie, ask him to call me,” Scott said. “A couple weeks ago I broke up a fight between Meredith and Knox, and she told me she’d like to slit his throat, or something of that nature. I don’t remember exactly, but when I hear
d how he died, well …”
“I’ll tell him to call.”
“Have you seen Meredith around town this week?”
“I thought I saw someone in the tea room but I couldn’t tell if it was her or just a reflection on the window,” she said. “Patrick said she was talking to Trick about selling it, so she must be around here somewhere.”
“I wonder if she inherits anything or has any insurance policies on him.”
“I don’t know,” Claire said. “I could try to find out.”
“I’m just thinking out loud,” Scott said. “Don’t get involved in this.”
“I know Pip didn’t kill him,” Claire said.
“Oh, I never thought he did,” Scott said. “Pip’s a make-love-not-war kinda guy.”
“Thank you,” Claire said. “I was beginning to think I was the only one who knew that.”
“Maggie wants to talk to you,” he said, and she could hear him hand the phone over.
“Quit trying to make my husband work,” Maggie said.
“Are you pulling your hair out yet?” Claire asked her.
“Oh my goodness,” Maggie said. “I don’t know who to strangle first. It changes every day. If I come home alone, you’ll know why.”
“I miss you,” Claire said. “I want you to come home yesterday.”
“What’s going on?”
Claire said, “It’s been awful …” but then she started to cry and couldn’t continue.
“Oh, Claire Bear,” Maggie said. “Whose ass do I need to kick first?”
Claire laughed, and then wiped her nose and eyes on the sheet.
“Do you have a minute?” she asked.
“I have all night,” Maggie said. “I’m going out on the balcony and I’m closing the door behind me. Okay, it’s just you and me and the ocean. Now spill it.”
Claire sighed. Somebody did care.
CHAPTER 7
Kay had been determined not to attend Diedre’s funeral, but the Interdenominational Women’s Society was handling the reception, and with all they were doing to support her mayoral run, she could not turn down their call for help. So it was that she found herself in the kitchen of the Rose Hill Community Center, filling a coffee urn, when the Delvecchio family arrived from the cemetery.
Kay felt as if all eyes were upon her as Antonia, the matriarch of the Delvecchio family, entered the kitchen. Antonia was in her late sixties, but she was still a beautiful woman. Tall and statuesque, with an hour-glass figure atop long shapely legs, she had once been told she looked like Sophia Loren, and had played that part to the hilt ever since.
Kay stood back and let everyone else rush forward. Eventually, Antonia caught her eye, smiled, grasped both of Kay’s hands in her own, and kissed her on both cheeks.
“Darling Kay, mia cara amica, I am so glad to see you here,” Antonia said. “Thank you for coming.”
“I’m so sorry for your family’s loss,” Kay said.
Antonia said, “My poor son, a widower now, and so young,” out loud but then leaned in and whispered, “but it was not such a great loss, I think.”
Kay was shocked but tried not to show it.
“You will come to dinner at our house tonight,” Antonia said.
“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Kay said.
“Don’t be silly,” Antonia said. “You’re like a member of our family, and we want you to come.”
“Thank you,” Kay said. “Is there anything I can bring?”
“Bring dessert,” Antonia said. “I don’t eat sweets so I never make them.”
Antonia smoothed her hands over her hips as if to assure herself that her diligence was still paying off. Kay felt huge and dowdy next to her, as if she came from a different species altogether than this elegant, sensuous woman.
“I’ll be glad to,” Kay said.
“Six o’clock,” Antonia said and then whispered, “I’ll set a place for you between Sonny and Matthew.”
Antonia’s eyes twinkled and Kay swallowed hard.
“May the best son win,” Antonia said, and winked at Kay.
All through the reception, Kay stayed busy in the kitchen and fought the urge to eat, not an easy thing to do in a room full of Rose Hill’s finest homemade food. She knew she was fat, everyone else knew she was fat, and they had to know that in order to be that fat she must eat a lot, but she’d be damned if she’d let them see her eat anything.
That was the thing about a food addiction if you didn’t binge and purge; your weakness was right out there for everyone to see, criticize, or make faux-concerned comments about it.
‘You have such a pretty face; it’s such a shame.’
‘I’m just worried about your health.’
‘Have you thought about surgery?’
Worse were the people who didn’t pretend to care, who looked at her body with disgust, or made comments and laughed. It made her wish she could disappear, that the earth would open up and swallow her whole. It made her feel she didn’t deserve to live.
Why couldn’t she have been cursed with an addiction she could hide? Were there any like that? She’d have to look into it.
She was blessedly alone in the kitchen when Sonny came in.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” he said. “I hear you’re coming to dinner.”
“I couldn’t tell your mother no,” Kay said.
“No one can,” he said. “She heard Matt came to see you. I told her I was going to give him a run for his money.”
“I could tell,” Kay said. “She was very funny about it.”
“My mother has a great sense of humor,” Sonny said. “Not too many people get that about her.”
“You’re her oldest, so you must be her favorite.”
“Not even close,” he said. “That would be baby Anthony. No, I’m probably last in line, but that makes me the underdog, and everyone roots for the underdog.”
“You’re not last in my line,” Kay said.
“Kay Templeton, are you flirting with me?”
“I seem to be.”
“Good,” he said. “That means I’m ahead.”
“This is not a race.”
“It wasn’t until my brother made it one,” Sonny said.
Unfortunately, there were others in the kitchen when Matt came back. Kay could see many exchanged looks and surreptitious smiles, which reinforced the sad fact that there were no secrets in a small town, no matter how old the gossip. Matt made a point of thanking everyone, saving Kay for last.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said, as she made his attempted hug as brief as possible.
“Thank you so much for coming,” he said. “It means so much to me.”
His big brown eyes were swimming in tears, and his smile was sad. You could tell he was suffering, and the pull to console him was strong. She could still see the young man she had fallen in love with so many years ago. He had made a big mistake, committed a youthful indiscretion, and had paid for it all these years. Her heart was big enough to forgive that in anyone, why not her childhood sweetheart?
“It was the least I could do,” Kay said. “I’ve known you and Diedre since we were kids; it must have been a shock to lose her in such a tragic way.”
He dissolved into tears, and several women came forward to console him. Kay was well aware of the spectacle she and Matt were quickly making of themselves; it would be recounted a dozen times, with dramatic embellishments, before the hour was over.
Kay was so irritated by how foolish and conspicuous she felt that she turned extra brisk.
“I have to go now,” she said. “You take care.”
Kay patted his arm and left by the back door, not making eye contact with anyone as she went. She was filled with a humiliating shame, as if she were sixteen years old again, running to the girl’s bathroom, sobs wracking her body while everyone stared or snickered. That was more than 30 years ago; why did it feel as if it had happened yesterday?
In the parking
lot outside the community center Kay saw Karla, Sonny’s ex-wife, getting out of a car. Kay was so emotionally off kilter that she feared what she’d say, so she veered right, pretending she hadn’t seen her, only to have Karla run after her, shouting, “Kay, wait!”
Kay took a deep breath and turned around. She plastered a smile on her face and said, “Oh, hello, Karla; I didn’t see you there. I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Do you have a minute?” Karla asked her. “I want to talk to you about Sonny.”
“No need for that,” Kay said. “Your relationship is none of my business.”
“That’s not what I heard,” Karla said.
Karla was a striking woman of medium height who you could tell took good care of herself. Her tan arms and legs were muscular, like a tennis player’s, and her hair was shoulder length and dark. She obviously knew her way around makeup, and had made the most of her hazel eyes and good bone structure. She was dressed in a short black dress which showed off pert cleavage, and tall heels which were sinking into the lawn of the community center. If Kay didn’t know for a fact that Karla was the same age as she was, she would have guessed she was ten years younger.
Karla looked Kay up and down and smirked without trying to hide it.
“I couldn’t believe it when I heard it,” she said. “I guess Sonny must be pretty lonesome these days.”
“I’m not going to talk about Sonny with you,” Kay said.
“Then you can listen instead,” Karla said, and took a menacing step closer. Kay, to her credit, did not back up. Instead she froze the pleasant smile on her face and looked at Karla as you would look at an obnoxious child who is not related to you, to whom you do not want to appear to be rude.
“Sonny and I should never have got divorced,” she said. “I made a dumb mistake, but I paid for it, and I’m sorry for what I did. Sonny and me are part of a family, we have kids. That’s a bond that cannot be broken by divorce. You can’t understand that, because you don’t have any kids. You don’t know what having a family is like. You take in those orphans or whatever, and you pretend they’re your kids, but that’s just temporary. That’s just play acting. Now you’re doing the same thing with Sonny, but that isn’t real, either. What Sonny and me have is the real thing, the kind of thing that’s for life. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
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