Death in Dark Blue

by Julia Buckley

  “Oh, yes. I did a fair amount of online research to find it. I hope she’ll like it.” He was gazing over my head at Camilla, who had appeared with her coat on. “Hello, Cammy.”

  “Adam, dear, did you want to come in, or—?”

  “No, no, we should be on our way. The reservation is at six, and we have to drive for a bit.” He held up the flowers. “Something to put in water.”

  “Oh! A little touch of spring,” Camilla said. “Lena, would you . . . ?”

  “Yes, of course. You two go and have a lovely time.”

  Camilla waved, and Adam took her elbow and escorted her out the door into the frigid air.

  I went into the kitchen with the flowers. While I was filling a vase with water, I thought about what Camilla had said about Adam loving surprises. What a sweet thing to do while he was courting Camilla—going out of his way to surprise her with lovely things and events.

  I tucked the flowers into the water and set them on the kitchen table. Then, on a whim, I dialed a familiar number. I had a surprise of my own brewing.

  • • •

  SAM’S HOUSE WAS illuminated by blue and white landscaping lights when I drove up. I left my car on the gravel road and crunched through the snow to his doorway. I rang his bell, suddenly nervous. Now I knew how Camilla felt.

  The door opened and Sam stood there. “Hey. Come on in,” he said with a smile.

  “Actually, I’d like you to come out,” I said.

  “Oh? And why is that?”

  “I’m whisking you away.”

  “Where to?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  He studied me for a moment with an amused expression, then shrugged. “As long as I’m with you, fair Lena, I don’t much care where you take me.”

  “Good. Get your coat.”

  He returned in two minutes, wrapped in a brown coat and a flannel scarf. “Take me away from it all,” he said, and I giggled. By the time we were seated in my car we were both in a jubilant mood, prompted perhaps by the invigorating air or the thought of spending time together.

  Sam slid over on the seat and gave me a warm kiss on the mouth, then slid back to his spot and buckled in. “So do I get to ask questions?”

  “Yes, that will be fun.”

  “Are we going to a restaurant?”

  “No.”

  “A movie?”

  “No, although we could watch one there, if we wanted.”

  “Are we meeting at your friend Allison’s house again for a lover’s tryst?”

  “Yes and no,” I said, pulling onto Green Glass Highway. I turned to him. “We are going to Allison’s, because she’s my best friend. And I realized that you and she have never really properly met, except at Camilla’s little reception. And since I hope you and I will be—together in the future, and Allison and John are married, there’s a chance we’ll spend lots of time hanging out, just the four of us. And I’d really like you to have some friend time. I know it’s been a solitary existence, alone in your house on the hill.”

  He nodded and studied me in his assessing way. “I think you really planned this just because you thought it would make me happy, didn’t you? You want to give me friends on a silver platter.”

  “Well, not exactly, but yes. I want you to have your old life back, and I know it can never be the same, and this is not New York, but—it can be fun. Allison and John are great, and they really like you.”

  “Now.”

  “Yes, now that they know you. All they heard before was rumor and innuendo, like everyone else. Allison feels very bad about ever believing it.”

  “Good. Is she feeding us? I was going to order food for you and me.”

  “Oh, yes. She’s a wonderful cook. She said she’s making enchiladas. And John fancies himself a beer and wine expert, so you’ll be taken care of in that respect.”

  “All right, Lena London. I would like to go on a double date with you. Thank you for whisking me away.”

  We were nearing Allison’s subdivision. “You’re welcome, Sam West.”

  • • •

  “WHAT’S A FULL house?” Allison asked, peering at her cards. “And does it beat a flush?”

  A whispered conference with her husband, and then, “Okay, full house. Read ’em and weep.” She laid out her cards, and we all moaned. She had won three games in a row after claiming to not know how to play poker.

  We recovered quickly, thanks to some mellow red wine and bellies full of inspired homemade Mexican food. Allison, John, and Sam may as well have been friends forever, because they had been laughing and joking together the whole evening. I had watched carefully for any undertones of suspicion or resentment, but there were none. Then again, Allison would be hard for anyone to resist. She’s a blonde, pretty ray of sun.

  “How about a different game?” John said. “We’ve got board games galore out there in the porch.”

  “But it’s so cold out there,” Allison said, feigning a shiver. “Let’s do something warm by the fireplace. We can play charades or something.”

  “Why don’t we just talk?” Sam said. “I have all sorts of questions.”

  Allison loved this idea. “Okay. We can all get to know each other better.” She had already cleared away dishes; now John gathered up the cards, and we stood up, ready to adjourn to their big, comfy main room and its crackling fire.

  “Will there be pie in this scenario?” I asked. Allison was a pie genius, and I hated to miss out.

  My best friend giggled. “Yes, there is pie. Apple cream cheese.”

  “Nice,” I said. “Do you want me to make coffee?”

  Allison waved a hand. “John’s already got that brewing. Now go sit down.”

  Sam took my hand and his wineglass, and we moved into the living room, where he dropped onto the couch and pulled me against him. “How did you and John meet, Allison?”

  She flounced in and settled in a chair, her face rosy with excitement. Allison loved entertaining. “It’s very romantic. John had just gotten his master’s degree and was living in the city, sending out resumes and working part-time as a waiter. A certain Lena had dared me to go to one of those online dating sites and make a date, which I did, at John’s restaurant. Except that the guy never showed up. John was my waiter, and he was just infuriated that someone would do that to me.”

  John’s face was indignant with memory. “I still can’t believe it. You can see how beautiful Allison is. What sort of moron would send her to some place to sit alone? And yet I’m very grateful to the guy.” He smiled, and I saw why Allison had fallen in love. He had a sexy, sincere smile.

  Allison flashed him a lover’s glance and then said, “John had been talking to me when he brought my water and a free appetizer and stuff. Then he got someone to cover his shift and he took off his waiter apron and sat down with me. He said, ‘That guy loses out, because I’m your date now.’ And we had the best time! I found out that he was a finance major, and he learned that I was about to finish the nursing program.”

  “And after that night you kept seeing each other?” Sam asked.

  “Yes.” Allison hugged a pillow against her. “My romantic John didn’t want me to sit alone, and he won my heart.”

  “Did you ever contact the guy who stood you up? I can’t remember,” I said.

  “No. Why bother?”

  “I did,” John said, his brown eyes twinkling.

  We all turned to him. “What?” Allison said.

  He shrugged. “Remember how you took that selfie of us, and posted it with the message My sweet waiter had dinner with me when my date stood me up? Or something like that?”

  “Yes.”

  “You told me the guy’s username on the dating site. It was EagleEye. So I joined the site and sent him the picture with a note.”

  “What note?” Al
lison’s eyes were huge. “Jonathan Branch, you tell me right now.”

  John looked ever so slightly like a chastened puppy. “It said ‘You snooze, you lose, jackass. Some people know how to treat a lady.’”

  To my surprise, Sam laughed out loud. “An appropriate response. Did he write back?”

  John shrugged. “I think he said something like ‘Tell her I’m sorry, I was sick.’ Really lame.”

  Allison shook her head, half annoyed and half pleased. “Now I have a question. Sam, what made you come to Blue Lake? I mean, I can understand why you wanted to get out of New York, but we’re not exactly a prime tourist location.”

  Sam took a sip of wine and nodded. “There is a reason, actually. I had a memory, from back when I was a kid, when my family traveled to Michigan to stay at some budget-friendly resort on the lake. On the way there we stopped in Blue Lake to stretch our legs, and we ended up having a meal at a restaurant on the water. It’s not here anymore, sad to say. I think it was called Luna’s Place. It was a fun day: my parents were flirting with each other, and we had a hilarious meal, all of us in high spirits. In my memory there is sun shining on us all the time. My little sister saved the bread from our basket and fed it to the ducks that swam around the dock. I took a lot of pictures on a camera my parents had given me for my birthday. When I wanted to get out of the city, I remembered this place, and I did some searching online and found my house. It looked perfect.”

  “So Blue Lake is just a happy memory,” Allison said, and then her face grew sad. “And we ruined it for you. I’m so sorry, Sam.”

  “You’re making it up to me. I have no idea whether I would suspect someone in the position I was in. People are trying to make amends. And Blue Lake will always be the place where I met Lena.”

  He turned to me with a warm expression. I squeezed his hand, but I was trying to send messages to Allison with my eyes; I didn’t want her to ask about Sam’s family.

  She didn’t get the message. She turned in her chair with her puppyish, eager expression, and said, “So where is your family living now?”

  Sam must have expected it, but I could tell it hurt. His eyes flicked downward, and he studied his wine as he swirled it. “They were killed in a plane crash when I was in college. My parents were taking my sister to look at colleges herself. She was eighteen.”

  He may as well have slapped Allison’s face. She looked so crestfallen that John came to stand behind her. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry—what you must have gone through! Oh, Sam.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for. It was a very long time ago. I have had the nicest evening here in your warm house, and I won’t forget your generosity in letting Lena and me meet here recently. Seems like a year now, but it was just a few days ago.”

  Allison hadn’t recovered from Sam’s news. “I just—I wish there was something I could do.”

  I put an arm around Sam. “Allison’s a healer. She doesn’t like to see pain she can’t help.”

  Sam leaned back against my arm. “You are helping. All of you. Soon enough they’ll find Victoria and the baby, and my life will be my own again.”

  Now Allison and John were both leaning forward. “What baby?” they said in unison.

  • • •

  THE REST OF the evening was spent explaining the latest in the Victoria West saga, with some sidebars about journalists like Ted Strayer, and Doug’s arrest of him earlier in the day.

  Allison had told Sam that she wanted him to try some pie, and then, Allison-like, kept feeding him until he was moaning.

  Finally, after coffee and endless conversation and too much dessert, we stood up to leave. “Oh, do you really want to go out in this weather?” Allison asked. “We have a guest room.”

  I looked out the window. “The weather is fine, Allie. We’ll be okay. And next time we’ll invite you over.”

  Sam held my coat while I got into it. “Yes, I meant to tell you. I’m going to be throwing a little party. A belated New Year’s thing; you’re both invited. I’ll contact you soon.”

  Allison clapped. “Oh, that sounds lovely. I’ve always wanted to see inside that great house of yours.”

  Sam pulled her into a casual hug. “I’ll give you a special tour.”

  “Thanks for coming out, both of you,” Allison said.

  “Thanks for having us,” I told her.

  She and John waved to us from the doorway as we got into the car. I let it warm up for a moment in the cold night. “Sam.”

  “Hmm?”

  “I was just wondering—if you ever thought Victoria’s baby might be yours.” It was out now, and I couldn’t un-say it. I stared at some ice on the windshield, afraid to look at him, but his laughter made me turn in surprise.

  “No, Lena. Because that would be absolutely impossible. We hadn’t been together for months before she disappeared. We were estranged, in every sense of the word. I haven’t been sure of much lately, but I am sure of that.” He smiled at me, his face reassuring.

  “Okay. I just—I had wondered. And now I want to say one other thing that’s personal, if you don’t mind. We’ve never talked about your family, because I never wanted to intrude on what was private. But if you ever want to talk—you know you can talk to me.”

  “I know. And I will. After the Victoria thing is over.”

  “Yes, all right.” I touched his hand and then started driving toward home. We sat in companionable silence, thinking our thoughts, and I was surprised when I eventually pulled into Sam’s driveway, not remembering much about the journey back.

  “Come in with me,” Sam said. “I want to show you something.”

  I followed him inside his house, and he flipped on some lights that illuminated the warm wood of his flooring. He led me to a long hallway where a selection of tastefully framed photographs hung on the rust-colored walls. I had seen them before, but had never really studied them.

  “This is us,” he said. “The complete family.”

  His father, I realized, looked very much like Sam, with dark hair and broad shoulders, while Sam had clearly gotten his blue eyes from his mother. His sister had similar features, but blondish-red hair and braces. “They’re beautiful,” I said. “What was her name? Your sister.”

  “Wendy.”

  “Wendy West.”

  “Yeah. She got teased about it,” he said lightly.

  “I know I would have loved her. All of them.”

  He turned me to face him. “And for that reason, I know that I love you.”

  “Sam,” I said, intending to say more, but he silenced me with a kiss, and by the time we were finished I knew that I wouldn’t be going home.

  “Have I ever shown you the upstairs?” Sam asked, his lips on my cheek.

  “No. But I would like to see it.”

  “Maybe you should send a text to Camilla. Tell her you’re in good hands.”

  “I’ll tell her I’m in roaming hands,” I joked as he stroked my back.

  “Mmm. Come up and keep me warm. It’s kind of cold up there.”

  “I feel like I will raise the temperature of your entire house if you keep kissing me like that.”

  “I most certainly will,” Sam said.

  I sent a quick text to Camilla, and then Sam West took my hand and led me toward his elegant staircase.

  My last thought before ascending, strangely enough, was the first thing Camilla told me about him, months earlier. “They call him the Murderer,” she had said with a mysterious expression.

  From that point to this, I had never believed it.

  “I’ll race you,” I said, and I bolted past him on the stairs to the sound of his laughter.

  13

  Margot felt that she and Joe may have solved one mystery, but it brought no consolation in the wake of a much larger puzzle: the whereabouts of the man who wanted to kill
them both.

  —From Death on the Danube

  IN THE MORNING I lay against Sam West and gazed at the frost on his bedroom window while he ran a lazy hand through my hair. The day was cold and beautiful, and I was warm. “I might never leave this spot,” I said.

  He nuzzled my neck. “Good idea. We’ll stay here, like the Lennon and Ono of Blue Lake.”

  “I know John Lennon, but I don’t totally get that reference,” I said.

  He sighed. “There was that whole thing about the Bed-In? It’s an old story, even before my time. That’s what I get for dating a younger woman.”

  “You’re eight years older than I am. That’s barely an age difference at all. You’re not ancient, Sam.”

  He flopped back onto his pillow and stared at the ceiling. “I just feel that way.”

  “But not with me?” I prompted.

  He grinned and looked impossibly handsome. “No, not with you. I was feeling energetic as a teenager well into the early hours.”

  I rubbed his chest, lightly furred with hair and silky to the touch. “I can help you plan your party today, if you’d like.”

  “I would like. I like every minute I spend with you. And I need a woman’s advice.”

  “It will be fun.”

  “Yeah.” His smile disappeared, and he seemed to be concentrating on something.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m great.” He touched my nose. “It’s funny—I haven’t talked with anyone about my family in so long, and then last night you talked about them, and I thought about them, and something came back to me.”

  “What’s that?”

  He sighed. “This goes back a long way. Almost fifteen years. And after a while, I just put it out of my mind.”

  “Okay.”

  “My dad called me at school, before he and Mom and Wendy made their trip. Just a casual call, asking me how things were going, did I need money—regular Dad stuff.”

  “He sounds like a good dad.”

  “He was.” He still looked distracted. “He said a few things at the end of the call—I thought nothing of them. But then when they died, I thought about it more and more, and I felt like—maybe there was something there that I needed to investigate.”