“Bexley, please,” Vaughn said. “You’re causing a scene.”
She heard him say it in the background, saw Eleanor and her friends get up, and heard them gasp, so mad now Vaughn’s words barely registered. She stood nose-to-nose with Carolyn, and Carolyn’s upper lip had curled into a sneer.
“Maybe if you covered up more of your body, men wouldn’t be so enticed to stare,” Carolyn said.
Bexley stifled the impulse to slap her, and her creepy husband, too. “Men with manners don’t stare no matter what a woman is wearing,” she said. She was full-blown irate now, blood pounding in her ears. “And in case you haven’t noticed, my bathing suit is covering more of my body than yours is of yours.” Sidestepping Carolyn, she stared down at Vaughn. “I’m leaving. Are you coming?”
He had already pulled himself up to a sitting position and was pulling his polo shirt over his head and stuffing his wallet into the pocket of his swim trunks, pushing his feet into a pair of Birkenstocks. Satisfied he would follow, she walked the length of the pool deck without looking back. Not at him, or anyone else. Feeling every pair of eyes follow her.
They’d reached Vaughn’s car in the parking lot before either of them said anything. And when they got there – when she turned around at last to face him – she felt like slapping him right along with Carolyn and Creepy Cam. “Seriously?” she asked. “You were accusing me of causing a scene?”
“You were making the situation worse.” He opened the car door and climbed in, not looking at her.
She opened the car door, but stood there, staring into the car. “I was causing a scene?” Her words were calm at first, but then rising. “I was? You don’t think Cameron Pringle did that my behaving like a womanizing pig?”
“Bexley, you were yelling at him.”
“For good reason! Maybe the real topic we should be discussing here is why weren’t you? Unless you’re okay with the way he was treating me.”
“Of course not. The man’s a pig. I felt like slapping him.”
“Well, maybe you should have.”
“Look.” Vaughn sighed, stared down at his steering wheel. “I know you’re upset, but I’m sure you don’t mean to imply that slapping people is how you handle situations like this.”
“I don’t know. Slapping the jerk sounds like a pretty good idea to me. Maybe if more people slapped him, he’d stop behaving like a womanizing piece of scum.”
Deep down, she knew Vaughn was right. Responding to words with physical violence wasn’t the answer, but mad as she was, she wasn’t about to admit it. Thinking of Eleanor now, seeing her out of the corner of her eye, hearing her refer to her as Vaughn’s temporary, knowing she was back at the pool now, embroiled in gossip and faux outrage – all of it –only made Bexley feel worse. “I’ll bet if it had been Eleanor Dodson being hit on in front of you, you wouldn’t have been so calm about things,” she said. “And I’ll bet you wouldn’t have accused her of being the one to cause a scene either.”
His grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned white. “Could we please not bring Eleanor into this?”
“Why not? We both know she fits so much better into your world than I do. I’m sure that’s what you’re thinking right now.”
“You have no idea what I’m thinking right now.”
Unable to come up with any further retorts, she slammed the car door shut and started walking. Behind her, she heard him start up the engine. Pulling alongside her, he rolled down the window of his Mercedes. “Would you please get in the car so we can talk about this?”
“No.” She kept walking, staring straight ahead. “I’m through talking to you.”
“Fine. You don’t have to talk to me.” He continued driving alongside her as she walked. “Just get in the car and I’ll drive you home.”
“I’m not getting in the car. I’d rather walk.”
“Do you know how far it is from here to the Park?”
“Yes, and I don’t care.”
“Come on, Bexley. I know you don’t mean that.”
“Oh, yes I do.” Tears misted her eyes now, and she hated it. Hated Vaughn, and Cam, and Carolyn, and that rotten Eleanor, for the way they’d just treated her. She hated thinking about how Eleanor and Carolyn would describe what happened to their mother, and how Mrs. Dodson would describe the event to Vaughn’s mother. Worse still, she hated thinking that Vaughn only wanted her to get in the car for appearances sake. She wished she’d never come here.
“Bexley, please.” Vaughn tried coaxing her again.
“I’m not getting inside your car. You might as well drive home.”
She heard him sigh…heard the window to his Mercedes roll back up.
Watching the rear of his car pull away in front of her, she thought of the lovely, lazy afternoon they wouldn’t be sharing. And she was mad at him for not giving her a ride home.
Chapter Fifteen
Turmoil knotted Vaughn’s gut. He’d barely slept all night, while the awful scene replayed in his mind. Anger twisted him at one moment, regret the next. Then jealousy would rear its ugly head. He saw Cam standing over Bexley, acting like some sort of caveman about to lug a woman over his shoulder. That image brought a wallop of self-recriminations for not taking a stronger stance against him. Finally, came the fantasy that he’d done just as Bexley suggested and slapped the guy. Embarrassment had taken its turn as well, as he remembered the way everyone had stared, knowing exactly how this was going to play with Mother. Good God, he was never going to hear the end of it…she’d raised him better than that…their family had a standing in the community to maintain…his behavior reflected on her…blah, blah, blah. Mostly though, he kept seeing Bexley in his rearview mirror, angry tears welled up in her eyes, as she walked alongside the club’s drive in the ninety-five degree heat…too mad at him to even get inside his car.
He hated thinking of her walking all the way home. But hell, what was he supposed to do? Pick her up and toss her inside the car? Behave like a caveman himself? Maybe he should have at that. The way things went down though, he felt like a total heel.
He heard the doorbell ring and opened his door to see her standing there. Beautiful blue eyes blinked back at him…red and puffy. She didn’t look like she’d slept much either. Looking past her, he saw that she’d parked her car in front of the house next door. “You didn’t want to use the driveway?”
She lifted a shoulder, not looking at him. “Call it a symbolic gesture.”
“I suppose I can’t blame you for that.” He opened the door wider, stepping back to let her in. “Thank you for coming over though.”
She took a deep breath. “I debated coming, but here I am.”
“I’m glad you decided in my favor.” Holding a cup of hazelnut coffee in front of her, he asked, “Cofffee?”
“Sure.” She took the cup from him, but wouldn’t look at him, staring at the mug instead, following him into the kitchen, taking a seat at his kitchen island.
Vaughn poured himself another cup. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I behaved like a fool yesterday. Like a coward, really. Like my embarrassment over having people stare at us mattered more than your feelings. And I’m sorry. More than that, I’m ashamed of myself.” Looking at her, her eyes once more tearing up, he couldn’t hold her gaze, and looked down at the floor. “Hell, Bex. I don’t know what got into me, and I’m not going to try and make excuses for it. You know, I don’t give a darn what any of those people at the club think. Especially Carolyn Dodson Pringle, and her philandering, gigolo husband. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell them so and defend your honor. I owed you that. I owed my reputation as a gentleman that.”
His apology poured out of him, and all the while he tried reading something into her expression beyond sadness, wondering whether any of it mattered to her. Did she forgive him? It kicked him in the gut, knowing she might not, knowing he might never see her again, save in passing.
For several long seconds, she said nothing at all, just h
eld the cup of coffee to her lips without drinking. Finally, she said, “Apology accepted.”
His doorbell rang then, interrupting whatever was about to happen next. He gave her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’m not expecting anyone.”
She shrugged. “You’d better get that.”
As Vaughn disappeared from the kitchen, curiosity got the better of Bexley, and she crept to the edge of the room, listening as he pulled open the door and began speaking. At first, the voices were muffled, and she couldn’t make out what they were saying…only that Vaughn was speaking with a woman. Then his voice grew louder.
“Look, your sister needs to stop her petty feud with Bexley.”
Her ears perked up at the sound of her name.
“Blaming other women because she can’t keep her husband in line is getting really old.”
“Nice way to deflect, Vaughn, but this isn’t about Cam. Or Bexley.”
“No. It’s about some wild-ass story your sister’s concocted, and you’ve decided to pay credence to. Probably because you’re both pissed about what happened yesterday.”
Bexley’s heart beat faster.
“I don’t want to believe it,” Eleanor was saying. “But you have to admit, Carolyn has a point.” Eleanor sounded smug, accusatory.
“What point?” Vaughn’s voice rose. He paused and took a breath, sounding quieter and calmer when he spoke again. “Dating a couple of women hardly makes me a killer.”
That single last word pushed Bexley’s pulse into a frenzy. She froze, frightened away from the confrontation she’d been about to make. She stood now like a statue, cheek pressed against the wood frame of the doorway, almost afraid to breathe.
“It’s not just that you’ve dated a couple of women,” Eleanor said. “It’s that you’ve dated women who have since been murdered.”
“So have half the men in Grosse Pointe. And FYI, I never dated your sister Annie.”
A brief pause, then Eleanor said, “Not that I know of.”
“Oh for crying out loud! You’re going to make that accusation right here to my face?” Now he shouted, just sounding pissed. “I’ve had all I can take of you reaching your tentacles all over town, prying into my personal life, and spreading your ridiculous stories about me hitting on your sister. It’s not true, and you know it.”
Fear rose up Bexley’s throat, tasting cold and sick. It burned in her gut, and she didn’t want to hear anymore…didn’t want to think about it. But she stayed rooted to the floor, questions swirling through her mind. Eleanor was accusing Vaughn of being the Country Club Ripper. Seriously accusing him.
A million thoughts and questions came at once. Vaughn couldn’t possibly be the killer. Could he? She’d have picked up on something off about him if that were the case. Wouldn’t she? He’d said himself he’d never dated Annie. But he had dated Hannah and Sophie. And he’d never mentioned it. Not even when they were murdered. And she thought now of Detective LeBec’s questions. When had Vaughn picked her up? Had they been together at the party the whole time? Why had he asked her that?
Suspicion spiraled out of control, twisting her gut into knots.
And what exactly did he mean by Eleanor having tentacles all over town? Bexley thought of the woman spying on her, knowing her every move, and she felt ill.
“I think it’s time you left,” Vaughn was saying now.
Bexley couldn’t agree more. She wanted Eleanor out — out of Vaughn’s house, out of Grosse Pointe, out of their lives forever.
She waited until she heard the front door click before entering the room. “You dated those dead girls?” she asked, followed by a quick pause. “Valerie told me you had, but I didn’t want to believe her. Silly me, I wanted to believe she was just inexplicably lying to me.”
Glancing out the window, watching Eleanor’s car back out of the driveway, Vaughn shook his head. “I went out with Hannah years ago, and I dated Sophie two years ago, while Eleanor and I were on one of our off periods. And I never dated Annie. Nor did I ever want to…no matter what Eleanor says to the contrary. Good grief, I should have known better than to tell Valerie anything about my personal life. That woman couldn’t keep her mouth shut if you offered her the perfect husband for doing so.”
His comment about Valerie was so on-target it made her want to laugh, but she didn’t. “Valerie’s gossipy mouth wasn’t exactly my point.”
His sigh came out sounding like a scolded child. “I know. You’re upset I didn’t tell you about it myself. I don’t know what to say.”
Looking at his sagging shoulders, that much was clear. He looked almost like a different person. Not the confident, self-possessed man with an easy wit she’d become so enamored by. And it floored her to see him this way. Did she have that much effect on him?
Anyone would be stressed to learn they were a suspected serial killer. And that seemed the more likely answer.
“Look.” He let go of the word with a shrug. “I dated Hannah in high school during my senior year, when she was a sophomore. We went to prom together, and broke up when I went off to Harvard.”
“Because you didn’t want to be tied down?”
“No. Because she didn’t want to be. She started dated Jimmy Walton that summer, before I’d even left for school.”
“I see.” So basically, Hannah had dumped him. She wondered if Sophie had too. Dropping her gaze to the old wood floors, she tried to pretend she didn’t still have doubts, waiting until he cleared his throat before looking up again.
“Hannah did me a favor,” he said. “She was already headed down the wrong road. Even at sixteen. Drinking. Doing drugs. Hopping from guy-to-guy. She was basically the kid your parents warned you about.”
“Some men are attracted to that type.”
Vaughn lifted her chin up, pulling her gaze up to meet his. She saw it then, the dark circles under his eyes, the telltale signs that he hadn’t slept too well either.
“I’m not most men,” he said.
“No. You’re not.” Up until her run-in with Valerie, she’d thought he was perfect…everything she’d ever wanted.
“I didn’t care anything about Sophie either,” he said. “Not really. I liked her well enough, but I didn’t see her as my life partner. And I haven’t wasted a single day of the last two years wishing things had worked out between us.”
He was chalking her questions up to jealousy, and she wished that’s all it was. “I don’t understand why Carolyn, and especially Eleanor, suspect you then.”
“Neither do I.” He seemed frustrated. Balling his hands into fists.
Bexley chased away the queasy feeling that had taken over her gut, managing a smile. “Maybe it’s all just part of Carolyn’s plan to divert suspicion away from her husband,” she said.
Vaughn snorted. “Or herself. That woman has a vengeful streak a mile long.”
She settled on that explanation, telling herself it made sense. Carolyn could be rather vicious after all. She’d seen that herself firsthand.
Driving home, the question of why Eleanor would believe Carolyn enough to confront Vaughn nagged at her, but Bexley pushed the thought away. She wasn’t about to let Eleanor Dodson and her spiteful sister sabotage her relationship with Vaughn. And she should probably make sure she didn’t sabotage it either.
Chapter Sixteen
Linwood rolled off Katherine, smiling at her and lighting a cigarette. She watched him, thinking her luck had really improved since moving to Grosse Pointe. Men had been a dime a dozen before Lin. Either the men she dated didn’t work, or they didn’t work at a job that could support her in a comfortable fashion. Or if they did have a good job, they either had no desire for a commitment, or they’d already made one. She’d become almost despondent, thinking finding a decent husband really shouldn’t be that hard. Taking a job with Jameson Financial and meeting Lin had been a real turning point.
She’d dated Cameron Pringle initially after moving here, but that had fizzled within months, helped alo
ng by her new friend Annie Dodson explaining how Cam was bought and paid for by Annie’s sister Carolyn.
After Lin’s divorce was final, he’d made his interest known, and life had become nearly perfect. She had a job that paid well, a nice bottom floor apartment in a two-family flat on Neff, just a two-minute walk to all the shopping and restaurants in the Village. She could even walk to Kroger if she only needed a few things. Best of all, however, was her handsome boyfriend, a man who’d previously been married, so she knew he wasn’t a commitment-phobe. Even having to deal with Valerie wasn’t enough to spoil it.
“Were you able to alter the receipts on the computer today?” Lin asked.
She nodded. “A few dollars on each one, just like you said.” A discrepancy of more than that, and red flags would be raised, but a little bit here and there…no one blinked. Lin had been running the scam for years, shaving a few dollars off each account he managed, and sending doctored receipts for the trades in the account. He did the same thing with his tax returns too, altering receipts from every supply he bought, every bill he paid, so that he could claim larger deductions, and be left with a lower tax liability at the end of the year. Lowering his tax liability had the added bonus of lowering his child support…something Katherine would have once found repugnant, but seeing the way Valerie bled Lin dry…expecting him to pay child support, and for all of Lindy’s medical, dental, clothes, phones, all those damn dance classes, and what-have-you. Hell, Valerie couldn’t even pop for a gift if Lindy was invited to a birthday party. She’d insisted Lin give his daughter twenty dollars for a sleepover last night…just in case the family wanted to go to McDonald’s or something. Peggy, Lin’s first wife never nickeled-and-dimed him that way. She had re-married well, and she put all the child support Lin paid for Annabelle and Harper into a college fund so he wouldn’t get soaked too badly for that when they graduated. Valerie could learn a thing or two from Peggy.
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