Closet Confidential

by Maffini, Mary Jane

  Even so, that wasn’t why he’d brought me there. He wanted me to see how much he’d lost. How much they’d both lost. I was beginning to understand, even though I didn’t have much room in my heart for extra pain on that particular day.

  After a long moment of silence, Harry closed the door and we walked slowly side by side along the corridor, down the remarkable stairs and to the front door. As I said good-bye he squeezed my hand. “I do not know what to do,” he said.

  “Neither do I.” I returned the squeeze.

  I am an organizer, not a clinician. I can help them improve their homes and their lives, sometimes even their marriages and careers. But there was not a damn thing I could do to help Lorelei Beauchamp. Or Harry.

  I used my cell to check with the hospital. Pepper had been moved from ICU but still was not allowed visitors. I glanced at my watch. I decided to catch Ramona before lunch. I started up the rental and burned rubber to the library. I spotted a streak of blue in the reference stack and pounced. Ramona whirled, making her latest dangling silver earrings clink.

  “I’m sorry to hear about Pepper,” Ramona said. “I know you two go way back.”

  I nodded.

  “Nick, too. Even if he is a rotten little jerk.”

  Again, nodding seemed appropriate.

  She said, “Of course that is my own personal view and does not reflect the views of the administration of the Woodbridge Public Library. As you can see, we are up to our patooties in not taking a stand.”

  I could hear a rustling of raised eyebrows among the denizens of the reference department.

  “I have your clippings about that other matter. Everything I could think of that might have some connection, and some stuff that might never make it online. I made copies so you don’t have to sit here with people breathing down your neck.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “And I want to ask you something. You’re plugged into the community resources. I’m interested in finding out what’s available for women who’ve been physically abused by their husbands. Do you have—”

  “Sure do. Got a brochure, got some contact names. Have some social workers to contact and a shelter. I’m assuming it’s not for yourself unless those dogs of yours are getting out of hand.”

  “Not for me. And in fact, maybe not for anyone. I’m not convinced that abuse is the issue at all. It’s pretty awkward, but I can’t stand around and do nothing in case it is.”

  “I hear you. It’s a tightrope. But we still have to do the right thing. I’ll get that information for you.”

  I felt a bit better taking a step forward. Normally I would have discussed something like this with Pepper, gotten an “off-the-record” answer. For obvious reasons, that approach wouldn’t work in this case.

  “Let me know,” Ramona said, “if you need help or support in that other matter. You can count on me.”

  I thanked Ramona and headed home to read the clippings about the death of Anabel Beauchamp.

  I knew she meant it. And I figured she was well aware that I was enquiring on Pepper’s behalf.

  One of the best things about running your own business is having flexibility in your schedule. As much as I missed having the normal weekends that other people enjoyed, I did like the fact that I was in charge. And lunch didn’t mean gulping a protein bar one-handedly at my desk while working spreadsheets with the other. I might make a lot less money as a one-person business and I might actually work longer hours, but I always made a point of putting Friend Time on my To Do lists. I always made sure I had Dog Time, too, as if Truffle and Sweet Marie let me get away without that.

  As I pulled into the driveway to give the dogs a quick walk, a cuddle, and a seat-of-the-pants bit of training, I spotted Jack’s bicycle near his front door. I realized he was at the shop with a most likely wailing infant and I hadn’t given either of them a moment’s thought. I am, after all, my mother’s daughter. I took care of Truffle and Sweet Marie, said to hell with the barking training, and tore off to CYCotics to see what was needed. This particular “friend time” wasn’t on the list and it didn’t need to be. I was headed there anyway. No point in phoning as Jack doesn’t always answer. Part of that laid-back cycle shop thing. Must come from the same place as the Hawaiian shirts.

  I puffed into CYCotics carrying a container with three panini sandwiches—prosciutto and Asiago, to be exact—and two large cups of coffee. My cell phone was vibrating as I struggled to open the door, but I didn’t have a free hand to answer it. I had the envelope from Ramona in my briefcase. I don’t know why I was expecting a tsunami of diapers, overturned equipment, a squalling baby, and a frazzled Jack. I felt vaguely disappointed by the air of calm and quiet. There were even a few male customers quietly drooling over some special type of alloy wheels in the corner. A woman accompanying one of them appeared to be drooling over Little Nick.

  Jack hung up his phone and gave me a startled look when I arrived. That was followed by a whispered, “Shh, just got him down for his nap.”

  Huh.

  “What’s going to happen, Charlotte? Did you hear the news?”

  Of course I hadn’t. I’d been busy rushing about. I set out the sandwiches on the desk and then asked, “What?”

  “Maybe it’s not the right time to talk about it. Margaret just called. She was looking for you, but you didn’t answer. Frank told her the police believe that Nick was the person who did this. Pepper’s injuries are consistent with being hit with a baton. They’ve found Nick’s with his prints on it and traces of . . . Pepper’s blood.”

  The full horror of that showed in Jack’s eyes and I am sure in mine, too.

  Jack continued. “He’s no longer a person of interest. There’s an actual warrant for his arrest now. Pepper hasn’t regained consciousness yet, but she’s out of surgery. Her parents will be arriving from Florida to take Little Nick. Pepper wouldn’t want that. She doesn’t have anything to do with her parents. So we can’t let that happen.”

  “You’re right. She’d never want him to live with the same man who gave her regular beatings when she was growing up and the woman who let it happen.” I’d already lost interest in the food. “I’d better call Margaret.”

  “Already done. That’s why I was talking to her,” Jack said. “I remember Pepper’s bruises. I know how she grew up. I couldn’t take a chance.”

  “I can stay here with you, until Margaret shows up.”

  “Never mind. She’ll be looking for the best way to postpone handing over Little Nick until Pepper is able to speak for herself. She’ll find an interim solution. Nick’s parents would be better. No one made his life miserable when he was a kid.”

  I thought back to Nick’s mother, a bighearted, big-armed, booming woman. No one would ever give her a hard time, and no one gave her kids a hard time, either. She and Nick’s dad had retired to North Carolina, and I knew their health wasn’t great, but I was betting that they were also on their way back to Woodbridge. But considering that Nick was under suspicion, I figured there wasn’t much chance the child welfare authorities would hand over Little Nick to them. And they would be concerned about finding Nick, too.

  “I know I won’t be able to keep looking after him,” Jack said. “Much as I’d like to. Even you don’t believe this was a good spot for a baby. Margaret says I should take him to Sally’s and she’ll apply for an interim custody arrangement. Seeing as there are four healthy happy kids there and Benjamin’s a pillar of the community, she’s confident that might happen. Especially as she can document that Pepper’s estranged from her parents.”

  “What a tough situation. But if it’s any consolation, Jack, I’ve had second thoughts about the wisdom of taking a baby to a bike shop. I just had to open my mind and my eyes.”

  “I appreciate that. Are you going to eat any of those sandwiches?”

  I always plan ahead for Jack’s voracious appetite. “Go ahead. I’m not hungry. I’m going to look over these clippings about Anabel.”

  “What’s the
point of that? You don’t still think there’s something suspicious about it, do you?” Jack asked before chowing down on one of the panini.

  I turned to the clippings I had brought in with me. “I believe Nick knows something and whatever it is has him falling apart.”

  Jack said, “Can you do me a favor later?”

  “Sure.”

  “I have some extra blankets at home in my closet, and I thought it might be nice if I could put the little dude down on the floor and let him work on his crawling technique without him getting splinters from these old wooden floors. Can you drop them off to me if you have a chance? I don’t want to close the shop when business is getting better. I think the little dude is a good luck charm.”

  “I am going to try to see Pepper, but I’m glad to bring them afterward if you’re not in a big hurry.”

  At that moment the door jingled and sure enough another young couple strode in. They looked like they knew exactly what they wanted in an overpriced bike. Leaving Little Nick happily burbling at colorful bike parts, Jack ambled over to help them make that happen. I turned my mind to the clippings again. I had only a couple of minutes to peruse the articles. The file from Ramona was what I would have expected: an obituary for Anabel, an article about her accidental death from the local paper. A lot of coverage that resulted for her famous mother. But there were also pieces about the work she was doing prior to her death. A couple of newspaper photos and a printout from a website with her photo. In the newspaper she was wearing a plaid shirt and jeans and grinning as a new grant for the youth program was announced by city officials. Even subtracting the genius of newspaper photography, here was someone who enjoyed what she was doing. She was glowing. I shuddered when I turned over a photo of the watery foundation where she’d drowned. It reminded me of huge, gaping jaws.

  I reminded myself that overwrought reactions were useless. I needed to have an unbiased, unemotional understanding of what had happened. My eyes widened as I spotted something that might help. A clipping from the local paper contained a familiar name and a new bit of information: Brad Dykstra had been one of the paramedics who had tried to save Anabel.

  15

  Consider your quality clothing in a new light. Can you update items by shortening them or taking them in? Factor in the cost of simple alterations to see if they’re worth it.

  My attempt to talk my way past hospital staff to check on Pepper ended in failure. The regular WINY updates didn’t help. So I was in need of a smile when I pulled up at Wendy’s place. But I wasn’t expecting the dress that provoked it.

  “She’d hidden it,” Lilith shrieked. “Can you believe that?” She pointed to the object in question first and then to Wendy, who was sitting on the bed doing her best to maintain her good nature.

  One look at the yellow dress with its eighties sleeves and full skirt and I could indeed believe that someone would hide it. Of course, Wendy was the client, and I thought I might be a bit more discreet than Lilith. Comes with age and having a business.

  “Her own son ratted her out!” Lilith was having a good time.

  Wendy wore a sheepish grin, but was she having that much fun?

  “He did,” Wendy said. “I’d hidden it in Seth’s closet, and he found it and brought it back. He was greatly incensed.”

  Hmm. I had a feeling that Seth might have been less incensed over the startling dress and more inclined to want to see Lilith up close.

  “Did he have a comment to make?” I asked, wondering if he had tripped over those size fifteens as he arrived.

  “Too overcome with shock,” Lilith said, still laughing. “Maybe it’s the bright yellow. Maybe it’s the beaded top. Or the puffy sleeves.”

  Wendy said, “I loved that dress and I had a lot of fun wearing it, and I don’t want to get rid of it. I’m digging my heels in on that.”

  “Special events?” Lilith said. “What? Costume parties? Were you going as Big Bird? Wait! It has everything but feathers.”

  I decided at that moment that Lilith and I needed to agree on a verbal code that signaled “give it a rest,” “chill,” or maybe plain “shut up.”

  “Laugh all you want. The dress stays.”

  Lilith wiped the tears of laughter from her face. I thought Wendy showed great restraint in not mentioning that the time would come when Lilith’s bright spiky teal hair and piercings would be passé even with disaffected youth. Wendy and I knew that even if Lilith didn’t yet.

  “Oh well, I guess memories are good. We got rid of everything else with hardly any hair being pulled,” Lilith said. “We’re still tight for room, and Wendy’s going to need some new stuff, so I’m pushing for it to go.”

  “And as for the dress, Wendy, if you want to keep it as a souvenir, perhaps a photo of you wearing it might do the trick. Put it on your bedroom wall. Better than hunting in the back of the closet for memories.”

  “Especially if it’s in Seth’s closet,” Lilith interjected.

  “That photo technique is not a bad idea, and Lilith suggested it for a couple of other items. I think I’ll do it for the Christmas sweaters. I made them for all of us when the boys were little, and we do have photos of them.”

  “None for this?”

  “Oh sure. Brad is always big on photos. But the thing is, I love this dress. Even if it’s out of style and I’ll never wear it again, although it still fits.”

  “What do you like about the dress?” I asked.

  “I have to hear this,” Lilith teased.

  “The color. Isn’t it happy?”

  “Yes. It’s like wearing a happy face,” Lilith said. “Round and . . .”

  I shot her a look. She caught my expression and said, “Oops, Charlotte thinks I’ve gone too far. Sorry, Wendy. I was just having fun.”

  “Pfft,” Wendy said, with a wave of her hand. “Me, too. With a house full of men and boys, I can take a little teasing.”

  Lilith looked relieved, and I certainly felt it.

  I said, “So the color?”

  “And the fabric. It feels so good, light and filmy, yet solid and substantial. If I ever found something made out of fabric like that again, I’d buy it, no matter what it was. I have a wedding to go to and I’ll never find anything I like as much as this. In fact, the way I’m going, I’ll never find anything, period. Especially on my budget.”

  Lilith couldn’t contain herself. “Promise me you’re not even thinking of leaving the house again in this dress!”

  Wendy said, “I’m silly and sentimental, but I’m not planning social folly.”

  Lilith clutched her chest, indicating that she might have missed a career on the stage. “What a relief.”

  I stepped over to the dress and touched it. Wendy had a point. The fabric did feel silky. It would be lovely next to your skin. That’s something to think about when you get dressed up, the sensuousness of the clothing you’re wearing. And the color was spectacular, even if a bit overwhelming.

  “I have an idea.”

  “Please, tell me you don’t,” Lilith again, back in play mode.

  “I do.”

  Wendy looked up expectantly.

  “Lilith, what exactly is wrong with this dress?”

  “We already talked about the color.”

  “Yes, but we all like the color.”

  “Not an acre of it. You could erect a tent with less fabric.”

  “What else?”

  “Are you kidding? Do you not see those sleeves? In the circus maybe.”

  “So far so good. And then?”

  “What are those? Rhinestones? It’s like a kewpie doll dress.” Lilith couldn’t hold back.

  “Those were the times,” Wendy said.

  I said, “But not the skirt?”

  Lilith tilted her head. “The skirt’s okay. It’s a nice classic shape.”

  I reached over and picked up the dress. I tucked the overwhelming top inside the skirt. I laid the “skirt” on the bed and peered into the closet. I didn’t find what I
was looking for, so I snatched up a long-sleeved navy tee and displayed it on top of the skirt.

  “Wow,” Wendy said.

  “That rocks, Charlotte!” Lilith did a little dance to illustrate approval.

  “Right. Bright gathered skirts are very useful items for a wardrobe. What I suggest, Wendy, is that you ditch the top, put on a waistband and shorten the skirt, and you can wear it with a plain neutral top. All you need is a good dressmaker. Although you should try it with the top tucked in before we get too excited.”

  Sometimes you get it right. The outfit was going to be spectacular on Wendy, although maybe not with her sneakers and cotton socks.

  Wendy said, “I’ll find a dressmaker.”

  Lilith said, “Hold the phone, lady. I can do those alterations for you. I get all my stuff at the Goodwill. I hope you don’t think I can afford to go to college and get my clothes altered.”

  “Talk about a full-service package,” Wendy said, then added, grinning, “although I know that extra charges may apply.”

  “Problem solved,” I said. “We’ll take a look to see if you have the right shoes for it and the right purse and—”

  “She does. Remember? The shoes and purse were classic and fine,” Lilith said. “Although she could still benefit from a trip with you to shop for something more fashion forward.”

  “Oh boy. I couldn’t wear anything like that.” Wendy pointed at my sling back pumps. “Hey, I owe you two so much. You’re going far beyond the call of duty. I don’t know how I can make it up to you.”

  Lilith said, “We’re taking your hundred dollars. Don’t forget that.”

  “Listen, I mean it,” she said.

  I hesitated. “We’re not even finished yet, Wendy. We still have to set up your storage systems.”

  “I will still be grateful.”

  “Tell you what, I would like to speak to your husband. I have a question that pertains to his work. Would you ask him to give me a minute or two?”