“Did you tell Lucille what you found?”
“I did not.”
“Did you confront Stuart, Knox, or Marigold about the account?”
“I did not.”
“Were you planning to use this information in your campaign?”
“No,” Kay said. “I had heard through the grapevine that Stuart was trying to throw me under the bus, to blame me for the things he was accused of doing, and I wanted to have evidence to use to defend myself in court, if it came to that.”
“Was Marigold having an affair with Knox or Stuart?” Terese asked her.
“No!” Kay said. “I mean, not to my knowledge.”
“Was she performing some service for them?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Was she blackmailing either of them?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Why do you think they were paying her?”
Kay hesitated. She did not want to lie to the F.B.I. but she had given Marigold her word.
“Miss Templeton,” Terese prompted.
“I was not privy to any conversations between Knox, Stuart, and Marigold that led to this account being set up, nor did I witness any collaboration between the three account owners regarding this account.”
“You may have heard gossip, though,” Terese said. “You may have put two and two together.”
“If I did, I wouldn’t use it as testimony.”
“Sometimes gossip has a bit of truth in it.”
“Nevertheless,” Kay said. “I’ve told you what I know from my direct knowledge of the situation.”
Terese did not specifically ask her about a possible relationship Marigold might have had when she and Knox were young, and that may have been splitting hairs, but Kay did not want to betray Marigold’s confidence about her college romance with Knox or their baby. She had given Marigold her word.
“I may need to talk to you again,” Terese said.
“No problem,” Kay said, although her heart was thumping hard in her chest.
Later that afternoon, Marigold Lawson came to Kay’s office. Her face was pale, her eyes red and swollen.
“I won’t stay,” she said. “I’ve just been interviewed by the FBI and I wanted to tell you I’m withdrawing from the mayoral race. Congratulations.”
“Marigold,” Kay said, as she rose and came around her desk. “Are you sure you want to do that?”
“I told them everything,” Marigold said, and her voice shook. “There’s no way I can continue now.”
“I didn’t tell them about your relationship with Knox or the baby you gave up,” Kay said. “I kept my word to you.”
“It was stupid of me to trust you, I know,” Marigold said. “Political battles always bring out the worst in people.”
“I swear to you I didn’t tell anybody what you told me,” Kay said. “They found out about the bank account from the bank statements in Knox’s office and that led them to you.”
“I knew you’d deny it,” Marigold said. “But I wanted you to know that I know the truth.”
“I’m sorry you think that,” Kay said. “It looks like there’s nothing I can do to convince you otherwise.”
“I heard Sonny Delvecchio spent the night at your place,” Marigold said. “Lucky for you I’m in such trouble or that would be all anyone would be talking about today.”
“I’m so sorry about your troubles, Marigold. Truly.”
“It might interest you to know that Sonny’s ex-wife has left her husband,” Marigold said. “She’s telling everyone that Sonny agreed to take her back.”
“Marigold, don’t,” Kay said. “I hope you’ll change your mind about running. I think people are kinder and more accepting of youthful indiscretions than you think.”
Tears filled Marigold’s eyes.
“I will never forgive you for this,” she said. “Never.”
With that, she turned and left.
Kay sat back down at her desk and felt the energy drain from her body. Lucille walked across the hall and leaned against the door frame.
“I heard arguing,” she said. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” Kay said.
“Do you want a muffin?”
“Yes,” Kay said. “But I’m not going to have one, thanks.”
“What’s the story with Marigold?”
“I’m not going to share it,” Kay said. “Marigold confided in me, and even though she doesn’t believe me, I am keeping her confidence.”
“It hardly matters now,” Lucille said.
“It does matter,” Kay said. “It matters to me.”
Later that afternoon, Kay was surprised to see Peg Machalvie in her office doorway. Even though her features had been partially paralyzed through chemical intervention, her expression was like thunder, which in Kay’s experience, always presaged a major temper tantrum.
Stuart’s wife ran the local funeral parlor, and she tended to dress and apply makeup in a dramatic fashion. Today her coal black hair was teased up into a poofy French twist with crisply curled spirals in front of each ear and bangs that sprouted like spider legs from above her waxy-smooth brow.
On her stick-thin, yet amazingly busty figure she wore a tight, white, form-fitting suit jacket and short skirt with matching platform heels. Her makeup and spray tan had turned her normally pale white skin a deep pumpkin color. Her jewelry was large, sparkly, and complicated. The theme seemed to be nautical; there were shoulder epaulets and gem-encrusted anchors involved.
“Good afternoon,” Kay said. “What can I do for you, Peg?”
Peg pulled the door shut behind her, so Kay took that opportunity to push the voice record shortcut button on her cell phone. She set it on top of her desk, not trying to hide it or what she was doing, but Peg didn’t seem to notice.
“I need to have a word with you, if you don’t mind,” Peg said. “It’s about Stuart.”
Peg stretched her mouth into a big rectangular grimace, which was the only version of a smile she could make using the parts of her face that still moved.
“I can’t help Stuart,” Kay said.
“We’re willing to be generous,” Peg said. “All you have to do is confirm Stuart didn’t know the consulting firm account was actually a front for Knox’s slush fund. Knox was the one who deceived Stuart.”
Peg’s voice quivered and her hands were restless; she kept touching her necklace, her earrings, and her hair.
“I’m not interested in accepting a bribe from you and Stuart,” Kay said, speaking up for the voice recorder. “I’m also not willing to lie for anybody.”
“He can’t go to jail,” Peg said. Her eyes filled with tears, which spilled over, taking dark streaks of mascara and eyeliner with them. “I don’t know what I’ll do without him.”
“I’m sorry, Peg,” Kay said. “But Stuart abused the trust of this town and now he has to face the consequences.”
Peg was sobbing in earnest now, and Kay handed her a box of paper tissues.
“Peg,” Kay said. “Please try to get ahold of yourself.”
“You … don’t … understand,” Peg sobbed. “Stuart … is … my … whole … world!”
Peg was wailing now. Kay felt sorry for her; everyone in the building could probably hear.
“I’m so sorry for what you’re going through,” Kay said. “But I can’t help you.”
“Please!” Peg cried. “You have to!”
There was a knock on the door and Terese stuck her head in.
“Everything all right?” she asked.
Lucille was right behind her, craning her neck to see inside the office.
“Peg is upset,” Kay said, as she stood up and came around her desk. “Lucille, please help Peg to the ladies room so she can get cleaned up, and then take her out the back way so she can have some privacy.”
Lucille said, “C’mon hon,” to Peg, who allowed herself to be led like a child, still crying as though her heart was broken.
&
nbsp; When Peg reached the door she clutched the arm of the FBI agent.
“Don’t take him away from me,” she cried. “He’s all I have.”
Terese looked grim as she removed Peg’s grasping hand and stood aside so the two women could get past her in the doorway.
Kay reached out and ended the recording.
“Anything you want to share?” Terese asked her.
“No,” Kay said. “Nothing to share.”
The last thing Kay wanted to do was face Matt Delvecchio, but she also didn’t want to appear to be avoiding him, and her cupboard was bare, so after work she went down to the IGA to get some groceries. She got as far as the deli counter before he accosted her. There was no other word for it.
“You’re not welcome in here,” Matt said as he blocked the aisle.
There was a hush as everyone working or shopping in the store stopped to listen.
“Please don’t do this, Matthew,” Kay said in a quiet voice.
“I mean it,” Matt said. “I don’t want you to come in here again.”
Kay realized that to argue would only make it worse. She took a deep breath, removed her handbag from the shopping cart, turned, and walked out, head held high. Unfortunately, he followed her outside, as did several people who didn’t want to miss anything. He grabbed her arm and she turned.
“You’re making a spectacle of us,” she said.
“You’re the one making a spectacle,” Matt said. “What did you think would happen, letting him park out in front? Everyone knows my brother stayed at your house last night.”
“Let me go,” Kay said, jerking her arm away from his grip. “Unless you lower your voice and speak to me in a respectful way, I’m not going to discuss this with you any further.”
“I don’t have any respect left for you,” he said. “Especially not now.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Kay said, “but you have no right to treat me this way.”
“You can tell Grace she’s fired,” Matt said. “Tell her she can work for my brother at the hardware store.”
Kay turned on her heel and walked away. As she crossed the street she met Laurie walking toward her on Rose Hill Avenue.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “Can I help?”
“Walk with me, please,” Kay said. “I could use the moral support.”
“You’ve got it,” Laurie said, and turned so he could link her arm through his. “What’s Mario so upset about? Did Miss Peach dump him for Luigi?”
“Stop it,” Kay said. “That’s not right and it’s not funny.”
“Sorry,” Laurie said. “Just trying to cheer you up.”
“This has been some day,” Kay said. “And now I can’t even shop for groceries in my own town.”
“His prices are too high,” Laurie said, “and they have better produce in Pendleton, anyway. Plus now you have an excuse to come and see me. I’ll even let you go 35 in the 25 mile-an-hour zone.”
“I’ve loved having you here,” Kay said. “I want you to know I believe in you; you can beat this thing if you want to.”
“I appreciate that, Kay, more than you know. And I appreciate what you and Scott did for me. I won’t let you down.”
“See that you don’t.”
“You know, you would’ve made a helluva good schoolteacher.”
“If I keep making scenes in public places, I may have to retrain for a new career.”
“Don’t worry about that,” he said. “That made him look like a loser, not you.”
“I don’t even care that much anymore,” she said. “It might be a relief to be a regular person again; not always having to worry about what everyone thinks.”
“Just be yourself and to hell with what everyone thinks,” Laurie said. “Some people will think the worst no matter what you do, but the people who count will always give you the benefit of the doubt.”
“Thanks, Laurie,” she said.
“Can I ask you a question?” Laurie asked.
“Of course, anything.”
“Claire said that I act like I don’t give a damn about my job. Did I do okay here?”
“As far as I know,” Kay said. “What was she referring to?”
“Well, you know Diedre’s car disappeared before or after she died. I wasn’t worried about finding it, but Claire thinks it’s important for some reason.”
“When he was the chief, her father was a stickler for tying up loose ends.”
“I still have a couple days,” he said. “I bet I could find that car.”
“You do it,” Kay said. “It’ll make Claire happy.”
“I can but try,” he said.
When Kay got home, Sonny was sitting on her front porch. He rose and met her with a quick kiss.
“How’s my girl?” he asked.
“Well, I just got kicked out of your brother’s store,” she said. “And that wasn’t even the worst thing that happened today.”
“That pecker-headed son-of-a-bitch,” Sonny said. “I’ll straighten him out.”
“Please don’t,” Kay said. “It will only make things worse. Let’s give him some time to get used to the idea and then I’ll talk to him.”
“I’m sorry he’s such an idiot,” Sonny said.
“I’m ready for this day to be over,” Kay said. “Let’s order pizza and watch a funny movie.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I can’t,” Sonny said. “I’m afraid I have bad news.”
Kay’s heart seemed to stop for a moment. Was he about to tell her that he was going back to his ex-wife? Up until that moment, although Kay knew she cared, she didn’t realize exactly how much.
“Oh, my goodness,” Kay said. “I don’t know if I can take any more bad news.”
She sat down on the top step of the porch, and felt tears prick the backs of her eyes. Sonny sat down next to her and took her hand.
“My dad passed away,” he said. “I got the call right as I was leaving work, so I came straight here.”
“Oh, Sonny,” she said, and put her arms around him.
Her tears spilled over, mostly in sympathy but partly in relief that he wasn’t dumping her.
“I knew it was coming but it was still a shock,” he said. “I just can’t believe it.”
“You need to go to your mother.”
“I’m headed there next,” he said. “I wanted to see you first. I’m so glad about us, Kay. I’m so happy to know I have you. I’m not fooling around, you know. We need to make this a permanent situation, and soon.”
“There’s plenty of time for that,” Kay said. “Take care of your mother. Let me know if I can do anything to help.”
He kissed her forehead and then left. Kay decided that in some ways that kind of kiss was even sweeter; it also felt like a blessing.
CHAPTER 10
Claire made it to the top of the hill behind Eldridge College, with Ed’s black lab, Lucida, running in circles around her. Claire stopped and leaned over, her hands on her knees, and attempted to catch her breath.
Lucida danced around her and nudged her, as if to say, “C’mon, keep going.”
“Stop rubbing it in,” she said.
Claire sat down on the ground and then fell back, spread eagle on the dewy green grass. Lucida licked her face and then went off to investigate some nearby bushes. Claire closed her eyes and didn’t open them until she heard Ed’s voice, calling her name with some urgency.
“Not dead, then,” he said when he reached her, out of breath and red in the face. “I’m relieved to know it. You almost gave me a heart attack.”
He dropped down and reclined beside her.
His older dog, Hank, meandered up the path and then plopped down next to them, panting.
“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” Claire said.
“You’re out of practice,” Ed said. “It’s always hard to start back.”
“Everything hurts,” Claire said, “all the time.”
“That bakery work is a kille
r,” Ed said.
“Next stop, rocking chair,” Claire said. “Old age is so close I can see its big pores and crow’s feet from here.”
“You’re only halfway there,” Ed said. “It’s too soon to give up.”
“But what will happen when I can’t run anymore?”
“You’ll walk,” Ed said. “We’ll walk together.”
“You and me and Eve and the baby,” Claire said.
“We had a come-to-Jesus meeting last night,” he said.
Claire turned over on her side and propped her head up on her hand.
“Do tell,” she said. “Don’t leave anything out, especially any terribly uncomfortable moments for Eve.”
“I have agreed to stay married to her until after the next presidential election.”
“Is the Senator running?”
“I’m not at liberty to say,” he said, but he nodded.
“But that’s two more years.”
“In return, Miss Interrupter, I will raise the child here until he is twelve, at which time he can decide where he wants to be, either here with me in Rose Hill or at some fancy-shmancy boarding school for privileged oppressors-in-training.”
“Does someone have class prejudice issues?”
“Absolutely,” he said. “I happen to think being raised in privilege is more of a burden than a blessing.”
“So we know it’s a boy, do we?”
“We do,” he said, as he sat up. “And I took your advice, which I thank you for.”
“God help you,” Claire said. “What advice was that?”
“That I should remember she needs me more than I need her right now,” he said. “I had all the power; I just needed to realize it.”
“I can’t believe she agreed to all that.”
“She had already submitted a press release about the happy news she shares with her husband,” he said. “Rock, meet hard place.”
“Oh my gosh,” Claire said, as she also sat up. “What in the world are you going to do with a real live baby?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m going to need some help.”
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