“Never play cards with Sandy Sandstrum,” Borden stated firmly. He stared off into the distance. “The man cheats, and that’s a fact. He thinks he can slip all sorts of things by me, but I’m as sharp as I ever was.”
For Borden’s sake, I really hoped that wasn’t true.
“Do you remember the note I’m talking about?” I persisted. “Sandy and Harry thought that Jay had delivered it to her, but he didn’t.”
“No, he didn’t.” Borden shook his head.
Now we were getting somewhere.
“Do you know who did?”
He stared at me. “Now how would I know something like that?”
“I just thought that maybe since you knew it hadn’t come from Jay…”
“Of course I knew it didn’t come from Jay.” Borden’s voice rose. “You just told me that, didn’t you?”
Damn. I’d misunderstood. He’d been agreeing with me, not offering new information.
“I’m sorry,” I said gently. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Let’s just forget about the whole thing.”
“Too late for that,” Borden announced. “I suppose if you’re going to keep asking about these things, they must be important. And if they’re important, that means I probably have something written about them in my files.”
“Your files?”
“Right here.” He reached up and tapped his chest. “That’s where I keep all the things I need to remember these days. Right next to my heart. That way I always know where they are.”
He reached inside his sports coat and withdrew a small notebook. “Maddy, now, she makes fun of me for taking notes. But I say, hell, why not? It’s no different than keeping a diary.” He peered over at me. “You ever keep a diary, journal, something like that?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“You ought to give it a try. It’s a good habit to have. And when you get to be older like me, it helps you to keep things straight in your mind. Now let me see, when is this we were talking about?”
“It would have been about three weeks ago. That was when Mary first found out that her son was in town.”
Borden flipped back through the pages, stopping every so often to check the dates on the top. Faith, realizing she was no longer the center of his attention, hopped down from his lap and came over to sit beside me. I pushed my fingers into her thick hair and rubbed her shoulders.
“You’re very organized,” I said to Borden.
“I ought to be. I used to be an accountant. I’ll bet you didn’t know that, did you?”
“No. I have an ex-husband who’s an accountant.”
Time was passing and we were making small talk. Once again, I had to try to curb my impatience. Borden continued to thumb through the pages of his small notebook, stopping every so often to read an entry that caught his eye. I wondered if he even still remembered what he was looking for.
Finally, he looked up. “Here we are.”
I leaned forward. It was all I could do to keep from snatching the pages out of his hand. “What does it say?”
“Looks like I wrote down that Mary’s son, Michael, was back in town.”
“Yes.”
“He’d been gone for a long, long time.”
“Twenty years,” I said.
“That’s a long time,” Borden repeated. “Mary was excited that she was going to get to see him.”
So far, he hadn’t told me anything I didn’t already know. Maybe I’d been crazy to think that he would.
“Does it say how Mary knew that Michael was back in Greenwich?”
“Let me see.” Borden licked his finger and slowly turned the page.
Inching closer across the distance that separated us, I could see the rows of aimless scribbling. Even right side up, I knew I’d have a hard time deciphering Borden’s script.
“He got a message to her, even though her family didn’t want him to. He had an old friend deliver it.”
“What old friend?” I asked. “What did the message say?”
He chewed on his lip and consulted his notes. “The message said that Michael needed to see her right away; that it was important. I remember that now. Mary was upset because she’d had no idea that her son was in Connecticut, much less right here in Greenwich. Of course she wanted to see him, and the sooner the better. She was mad as blazes when she got that note and found out that her relatives had tried to keep them apart.”
I sat back in my seat, feeling deflated. So the note itself hadn’t contained anything inflammatory. What had upset Mary Livingston, and justifiably so, was her family’s meddling.
Almost as an afterthought, I said, “Did you happen to write down who the friend was who brought the message to Mary?”
“Sure did. It says so right here.” Borden lifted his eyes and gazed around the room. “It was that lady sitting right over there.”
I looked in the direction he indicated. The middle of the room was filled with people, patients, and dog handlers alike. Borden and I had been talking for so long that the groups were beginning to break up. It was time for our visit to end; staff members were starting to escort the residents back to their rooms.
I saw a nurse heading toward us and quickly turned back to Borden. “Which lady are you talking about? Who brought Mary the message?”
“That one.” He lifted a finger and pointed. “The nice one with the silky little dog with the big ears.”
Silky little dog…big ears…Bubbles the Papillon. It had to be.
“You mean Stacey Rhoades?”
“If you say so,” Borden said vaguely. He closed his book, replaced it in his pocket, and smiled at the approaching nurse. “You here for me?”
“That’s right, Mr. Grey. It’s time to take a walk.”
“Glad to hear it.” He slipped her a wink. “I’m always happy to take a walk with a pretty lady.”
25
I tried to have a word with Stacey as the obedience club regrouped by the door and was escorted out. She and Bubbles were near the front of the party, however, and Stacey was engrossed in conversation with Kelly. Faith and I, having lingered that extra minute to talk to Borden, were near the back, and the corridor was filled with too many people for us to walk around and catch up.
While waiting to try again when we were outside, I mulled over what Borden had told me. When Michael had needed to get a clandestine message to his mother, he’d entrusted the delivery to an old friend. It was interesting that I hadn’t heard anything about this friendship before. Not from Michael, not from Paul, and not from Stacey herself.
Although now that I thought about it, it occurred to me that I’d never questioned Stacey about her relationship with the Livingston family. Mostly because it hadn’t crossed my mind that she had one. Of course, there was always the possibility that Borden, with his memory lapses and his scribbled notes, was mistaken. But either way, I needed to get some answers.
By the time Faith and I reached the parking lot, Stacey was already unlocking her car. She opened the door, lifted Bubbles up, and placed her carefully on the front seat. The Papillon scampered across to the other side and waited expectantly. Faith and I hurried over before Stacey could slide in the car herself.
“Excuse me, do you have a minute?”
“Maybe one.” Stacey turned and looked back. “I’m kind of in a hurry.”
“I’ll be quick. I was just wondering how well you knew Mary Livingston.”
Immediately, Stacey’s expression closed down. Her eyes grew wary. The change was almost imperceptible, but I deal with kids all day; I can read evasive body language at ten paces. And in the space of a heartbeat, I’d lost her.
Damn, I thought. Wrong question.
“Not very well at all,” she replied. “That it?”
“No, I—”
Stacey slipped inside her car. She quickly slammed the door shut. Now there was a window between us. I hoped Stacey might lower it, but she didn’t. Instead, she reached down and fitted her key into the ignition
.
“Sorry.” Her voice, muffled by the glass, was barely audible. “Got to go.”
It was a good thing Faith and I moved to one side, because the car was already backing up. I got the impression that even if we’d continued to stand in the way, she wouldn’t have hesitated.
“Watch your toes,” Julie said. Her SUV was parked in the next space, and she and Jack came up behind us. “When Stacey’s ready to roll, heaven help the person or dog that tries to stop her.”
“I just wanted to ask her a question,” I said as Stacey’s car sped out of the lot.
“Don’t take it personally. Stacey’s always like that after a visit to this place.”
“Like what?”
“You know, furtive, edgy, in a hurry. Like she can’t wait to get out of here. Haven’t you ever noticed that before?”
“No.” I angled Faith to one side as Julie opened her door and the Doberman hopped up onto a seat. Immediately, Julie reached in and cracked all the windows. “But I haven’t been here that many times.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Julie said, nodding. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know what Stacey’s story is. But something about this place must creep her out. At first I thought that maybe being around all these old people made her uncomfortable. But if that’s the case, why would she keep coming back? Nobody’s forcing her to make these visits.”
“Did you ever ask her about it?”
“Once. She blew me off, much like she just did with you. So I figured, hey, it’s none of my business.”
Words to live by, I thought. Too bad I’d never been able to.
“Some people aren’t good at answering questions,” I said. Then stared pointedly.
I might have been remiss in not talking with Stacey earlier, but I hadn’t made the same mistake with Julie. The problem was, even though I’d spoken with her, I hadn’t managed to learn anything.
Julie stared back. She looked faintly annoyed but also a bit amused.
“Go ahead,” she said. The words came out sounding like a challenge. “Take your best shot. What do you want to know?”
Mindful of the fact that I’d overlooked the possibility of a relationship between Mary and Stacey, I led with the same question I’d asked a minute ago. “How well did you know Mary Livingston?”
“Not at all. Aside from seeing her here periodically and hearing bits and pieces about the family from Paul, nada, zip. Which, by the way, if you’re keeping track, and I assume you are, means I couldn’t possibly have had a motive for murder.”
“I guess not,” I said agreeably. Some days I’m in Bad Cop mode. Today, I was feeling more like Good Cop. “I am curious about one thing, though.”
“What’s that?”
“I heard you had some skeletons in your closet.”
Caught by surprise, Julie laughed out loud. Actually, she guffawed. I hadn’t realized I was that funny.
“That’s what’s bugging you? You think I have something terrible to hide?”
It was hard to remain serious when she continued to laugh in my face. “Do you?”
“Doesn’t everybody?” Julie took a deep breath and got her amusement under control. “I mean, come on. Is there anyone in the world who would like their life to be an open book?”
Now that she mentioned it, I didn’t have anything to hide. At least nothing I could think of quickly. Maybe that meant I hadn’t led a very interesting life. Either that, or all my secrets were already on display. Come to think of it, either alternative was pretty depressing.
“Are you going to tell me who pointed you in my direction?” Julie asked.
“No.”
“Fine, then I’ll guess. It’s not terribly hard to figure out. It was Minnie, right?”
I didn’t nod or agree in any way. Still, Julie went on as though I’d confirmed her guess. “Did she tell you what it is I’m supposed to be hiding?”
“If she had, would I be asking?”
Oops. Belatedly, I realized that confirmed the part about Minnie.
Julie didn’t seem to notice. “It really isn’t any big deal,” she said.
I kept quiet and waited her out. She turned around and checked on Jack. Luckily for me, the Doberman wasn’t offering any excuses. Like the well-trained dog he was, Jack sat patiently in the SUV. He appeared perfectly content.
“I joined the army right out of high school,” Julie said after a minute. “I wanted to go to college and become an engineer, but I didn’t have the money. The army offered to educate me, and I decided to let them.”
The armed forces also taught people how to kill, I thought idly as I waited for her to continue. Not that Mary’s death had needed much skill on the part of her murderer, but it had required a particular mind-set: the determination of someone who’d been taught how to approach an unpleasant job and see it through to the end.
“I don’t know why I even ever told Minnie this,” she continued, frowning. “But you know how it is when a bunch of women get together. There’s a pitcher of margaritas on the table, and next thing you know you’re sharing life stories.”
I nodded because it was the response she seemed to want. Most of the time I’d spent with groups of other women seemed to involve juice boxes, lost shin guards, and a host of shrieking kids. But maybe that was just me.
“So I did my time and got my degree and everything was copacetic. Or at least as copacetic as it can be when you don’t make most of your own decisions and your life isn’t really yours to run. Let me give you the short version. The army and I had irreconcilable differences.”
“How irreconcilable?”
“The AWOL kind.” Julie held up a hand to stop my next question. “Not that I didn’t have my reasons. Good ones, too. Even they eventually had to admit that. You remember back when all the branches of the armed forces were having problems with sexual harassment? Tail Hook, stuff like that?”
“Tail Hook was the navy,” I pointed out.
“Doesn’t make any difference. It was going on all over. I got pretty fed up with the situation and the attitudes I had to deal with and took what you might call a self-authorized extension on a three-day pass. Stupid, I know, but I was young and foolish. It’s the only excuse I’ve got.”
One that most people could probably sympathize with, I thought.
“Of course,” Julie continued, “as soon as I stopped and thought about what I’d done, I realized I wasn’t about to spend the rest of my life running away. When I went back, I found out I was facing a court-martial. So I told them to go ahead, but chances were they weren’t going to like hearing the kinds of things that were going to come out in open court. It took a while and some legal wrangling, but eventually they decided just to discharge me, and I got the heck out.”
“And?” I said.
I tried not to sound too hopeful. Because, so far, based on that story, I had diddly. So Julie had gotten in trouble with the military when she was younger. I couldn’t see what any of that had to do with Mary Livingston’s murder. Or why Minnie had pointed me in Julie’s direction. Unless Minnie had simply been trying to get me off her own case.
“And nothing,” Julie said flatly.
“Minnie seemed to think differently.” It was a shot in the dark, but I threw it out anyway.
She rolled her eyes in disgust. “Minnie’s a drama queen, pure and simple. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”
Sometimes being the new kid was a real pain.
Once in the car, I called Sam and told him I was running late. He asked if I needed any help, told me he’d coordinate with Bob for getting Davey back home, and wanted to know how I felt about grilled chicken for dinner. How could I ever have thought that marriage to this man would complicate my life? Aside from a few small technical glitches, so far it had done nothing but make me deliriously happy.
The next call I placed was to Michael Livingston. “I’m in Greenwich,” I said. “Do you have a few minutes to spare? If you want to give me directions, I can come to
you.”
“No need for that,” Michael replied hastily. I wondered if he was embarrassed about his living arrangements. “Why don’t we meet in a restaurant on Greenwich Avenue?”
“Sorry, I can’t. I’ve got a dog with me, and it’s too warm to leave her in the car by herself.”
We settled on Bruce Park as a place that would work for both of us. Faith and I arrived first. I took the Poodle for a walk past the tennis courts and around the lake while we waited for Michael to show up. She chased squirrels and scrambled up and down the big rocks for ten minutes before I called her back to my side.
When we returned to the parking lot, Michael was waiting for us. He’d left his car and was sitting at a picnic table under an old elm tree. Faith and I were both happy to sit down in the shade.
“That’s a pretty fancy looking dog,” Michael said.
Faith had been freshly groomed in anticipation of the visit to Winston Pumpernill. Her thick black coat—bathed, blown dry, and scissored the night before—looked luxuriously plush. The pompon on the end of her tail was perfectly round and full. Add to that the fact that she was probably larger than most of the Poodles Michael had ever seen. I’ve grown so accustomed to the way Sam’s and my dogs look, that it takes a fresh eye to make me stop and appreciate how truly striking they are.
Faith preened at the compliment. She might not have understood every word, but she was great at picking up nuances. Deciding Michael was a new friend, she sat down next to him and offered him her manicured paw.
“She just learned that,” I said. “You don’t have to play if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t mind.” He shook the paw briefly. “Your dog has better manners than most people I know in this town. Since we’re here, I’m guessing you have a message for me from my family.”
“Actually, I don’t,” I admitted. Then I stopped and thought about what he’d said. “You mean they still aren’t speaking to you?”
“Not if they can help it. I thought my mother’s death might have brought about some sort of rapprochement, but instead they’re treating it as if the last link between us has been severed. So the hell with it. I don’t need their money, and I don’t need their acceptance. I’ll be heading home to Colorado in a few days. I’m just as glad you called today. It gives me a chance to say good-bye.”
Raining Cats & Dogs (A Melanie Travis Mystery) Page 22
