A Moment in Time

by Judith Gould

  "Humpf!" Effie said. "That wouldn't be anything new to me."

  They heard the sound of approaching voices and turned toward the door. "We'll talk later," Valerie said, then walked out to the porch to greet everyone.

  Her mother looked at her, her features set in a mask of amiability that didn't fool Valerie for a second. "Good morning, dear," she said, holding her cheek up for a kiss.

  "Good morning," Valerie said, kissing the proffered cheek. "And Jamie! It's so good to see you."

  Jamie hugged her and air-kissed each cheek in the European fashion. "You look great," he said.

  "You look terrific yourself," she replied. "I see you've been working out a lot. I think the South of France agrees with you."

  She felt Teddy's arm slide across her shoulder. "Good morning," he said, kissing her cheek.

  "Good morning, Teddy," she said without looking at him.

  Effie appeared from the kitchen, laden with a tray on which sat a pot of fresh coffee, surrounded by baskets and platters of food.

  "Oh, I see Effie's got everything ready," Marguerite said. "Let's sit, shall we?"

  Jamie held her chair for her, and Marguerite took her place at the head of the table, while Teddy held Valerie's chair for her. She sat down, feeling a slight sense of dread despite pumping herself up before arriving here.

  Effie set the tray down and put out the food, then poured coffee for everyone. There were scrambled eggs, bacon and sausage, croissants and biscuits, fruit, and various condiments. Marguerite began helping herself, then passed the food around, and everyone began eating with gusto.

  "This is so good," Valerie enthused. "It's been a while since I've had one of Effie's great breakfasts."

  "You should try it more often, dear," Marguerite said, looking at her daughter pointedly. "Effie makes breakfast every morning, as you know."

  Teddy laughed. "I bet Val has more food in the house for Elvis than she does for herself."

  Valerie felt her face flush, but she decided not to say anything. Let them think what they will. Nothing anybody can say or do today is going to hurt me, she reminded herself.

  "Marguerite has always known how to do everything perfectly," Jamie offered. "Whether for man or beast."

  Breakfast continued with small talk centered primarily on the garden and then the swimming pool, which Valerie discovered her mother had for some reason decided to completely remodel. Even though she was curious about this turn of events, she didn't ask any questions and contributed very little in the way of talk, deciding to listen and then make as quick an exit as possible. Suddenly, however, she became the center of attention.

  "Val, dear," her mother said in what Valerie recognized as her most condescending tone of voice, "I'm so glad you could come this morning. I think it's high time we discussed your wedding. Your cousin Jamie and Teddy and I have discussed it at length, and we've decided that it should be as soon as possible. You won't have to do a thing. We'll take care of everything for you."

  Valerie listened to her mother with disbelieving ears. Yet she knew that there was nothing wrong with her hearing, and she also knew that her mother meant every single word she was saying. She started to interrupt more than once, but restrained herself, deciding to hear her out, for the time being at least.

  "You know," Marguerite went on, "you and Teddy have been seeing each other for years now, living together for all practical purposes, so we think it's time you finally made it official. I'm certain that if your father were alive, he would feel the same way. Neither of us ever really approved of young people living together before marriage, but we always knew that you and Teddy would eventually marry." She looked at Valerie questioningly. She seemed genuinely surprised by her daughter's continued silence.

  "I see," Valerie finally offered in a neutral voice, taking a sip of her coffee.

  "Oh, good. I'm glad you do," Marguerite continued. "We've also decided that a big church affair and reception should be dispensed with at this point. A waste of time and money, really, and you both have such busy lives. Teddy with his career, and you with your little job. So unnecessary, don't you agree?" She looked at her daughter with lifted brows.

  "Absolutely," Valerie answered.

  "Wonderful," Marguerite said, clapping her hands together lightly. "We'll have an intimate family ceremony here at home as soon as possible. Effie can make a nice wedding luncheon or something. It's so fortunate that your cousin Jamie is here for it. He can give you away, don't you think?"

  Valerie knew that she couldn't listen to much more of her mother's talk without exploding. Her mind was already reeling with the appropriate obscenities, but she didn't really want to use them. That these people would presume to plan her life for her was enraging, but that it should all be done behind her back was adding insult to injury.

  Who or what do they think I am? she asked herself. Some pawn in a chess game they're playing? Have I always been so . . . so spineless to their demands that they think they can actually railroad me into this marriage?

  Marguerite was staring at her, her emerald eyes glittering intensely, a smile on her lips, waiting for the expected response from her daughter. After a moment, Valerie noticed, she actually began to tap perfectly manicured fingernails against the tablecloth in her impatience. Then she saw that both Teddy and Jamie were watching her as well.

  Like evil blond twins, she thought. Only Jamie's more built-up and has shorter hair.

  Finally, she set her coffee cup down on the table and took a deep breath. She looked directly into her mother's eyes. "There will be no wedding, Mother," she said quietly but forcefully.

  "Don't be absurd," Marguerite replied, laughing lightly. It was as if she'd heard the words but gave them no credence. She looked at Teddy and Jamie and shrugged eloquently.

  "I'm not being absurd, Mother," Valerie said.

  "What on earth can you mean?" Marguerite asked, the laughter gone from her voice now.

  "Just what I said," Valerie replied. "There will be no wedding. Because I'm not getting married."

  "Val, dear, don't—" her mother began.

  "I'm sorry to have to say this in front of other people, Teddy," Valerie said, turning to look at him, "but I'm not going to marry you."

  For a moment, there was a stunned silence around the table as the words actually sank in. Valerie noticed Effie in the doorway to the kitchen, a smile on her lips. Then Jamie broke the silence with a bark of a laugh.

  "Oh, Val," he said, "you were always so ... so different. I just love it. You're such a jokester."

  "I'm not joking, Jamie," she said, turning her gaze on him.

  "Val, I think we should discuss this in private," Teddy said, reaching for her hand.

  She brushed his hand away. "There's nothing to discuss," she said softly.

  She reached for her carryall on the floor beside her and rummaged around inside it for a minute, finally extracting the black box stamped Bvlgari. She put it down on the table and slid it across the tablecloth toward Teddy.

  "I hadn't planned on doing it this way, Teddy," she said, "but I don't have much choice, do I? You've planned all of this without consulting me, and I'm left with little choice but to return your ring and call it off before you plan anything else behind my back."

  "But we—" Teddy began, his voice angry and bewildered at once.

  "You ungrateful child!" Marguerite exclaimed, interrupting Teddy, her voice quavering with rage. "How dare you go against my wishes! And what a terrible lack of manners! I can't believe you're my daughter! My own flesh and blood! To do such a thing to such a wonderful young man without taking him aside for privacy."

  "Don't preach to me about manners," Valerie said in a barely controlled anger. "You and Teddy didn't have the decency to take me aside to discuss my wedding with me, did you, Mother? No! You invited me over here, thinking that your plans—and Teddy's—were a fait accompli. That I would do anything you asked me to."

  Marguerite stared at Valerie as if she thought he
r daughter had gone mad.

  "Well, surprise, surprise," Valerie said, scooting her chair back and rising to her feet. "I'm not doing what you want this time!" She reached down for her bag and slung it across her shoulder. Turning to Teddy, she said, "I really didn't want it to end in such a shabby way, Teddy, and for that I'm truly sorry. But your plotting behind my back was a little bit shabby, too, you must admit." She looked at Jamie and her mother. "Now, if you'll all please excuse me, I'll be going."

  She walked to the door, but when she reached it, a voice stopped her.

  "Val, dear?" her mother said.

  "Yes?" she replied without turning around.

  "The two of us will discuss this later."

  "No, Mother," Valerie responded, turning to face her mother, her voice full of the determination she felt, "we will not discuss this later. Or ever again, for that matter."

  She opened the door and hurriedly walked to her Jeep. She got in the car, fired up the engine, and pulled out of the parking area, heading down the long drive that led away from her mother's stately home atop the hill.

  By the time she reached the highway, her eyes were nearly blinded by tears. Tears of shame and humiliation. Tears of relief. But most of all, tears of joy.

  She opened the front door, and Elvis virtually danced before her, his toenails clicking on the entrance hall's wooden floor. "Oh, Elvis," she said, "I'm so glad to see you." She went down on her knees and hugged him. "You're so lucky you weren't with me, but now we can start the whole day over again. It can only get better, old boy."

  She walked back to the kitchen, Elvis following her. She dropped her carryall on the center island and looked at the clock. A little after ten. She had a powerful urge to call Wyn at once to tell him the news, but she decided she wanted to calm down a bit first and digest the turn of events herself. She still felt unnerved from the scene at her mother's, and she didn't want to come across to Wyn as some sort of hysterical basket case.

  Maybe I'll call Colette, she thought, and we can have a cup of coffee and talk. I need to gather my wits about me, and that should do the trick.

  She started to pick up the telephone, and it rang just as she reached for it. Maybe it's Wyn, she thought excitedly. She grabbed the receiver.

  "Hello," she said.

  "Val, it's-it's Eddie," her old friend said in a strangely choked voice.

  "Hi, Eddie. What is it?" she said, her antennae on full alert. "You don't sound like yourself." He was definitely upset about something.

  "It's . . . it's Noah." He managed to get the words out before his voice collapsed into heart-wrenching sobs.

  "Eddie, listen to me," Valerie said. "Try to tell me what the problem is."

  "He-he-he's . . . d-d-dead," Eddie sobbed.

  Dead? But that isn't possible, she thought. He checked out perfectly okay only a few days ago.

  "Please, Eddie," she said, "tell me exactly what's going on."

  Eddie took a few breaths and managed to control his sobs. "I let him out to do his business about ten or ten-thirty last night," he said, "and I left one of the French doors in the back open for him like I always do. This morning he wasn't in his bed like he usually is, so I thought he was outside. I went out and called him and called him. When he didn't come, Jonathan and I went out looking for him. I thought maybe he'd cornered a chipmunk or something and just wasn't paying any attention."

  His voice choked up again, and Valerie waited patiently while he calmed down. "We-we found him down near the creek," Eddie continued. "Dead."

  "You're sure he's not just injured, Eddie?" she asked.

  "He's been murdered!" Eddie cried. "Somebody deliberately killed him!"

  "Murdered?" she asked incredulously.

  "I'm positive," he declared, indignant. "Somebody murdered Noah!"

  "I'm coming straight over," she said.

  "Oh, would you, Val?" he said, weepy again.

  "I'll be there in five minutes," she said. She hung up the receiver and grabbed her carryall, then headed to the front door.

  "I'll be back soon, Elvis," she said, leaning down and giving him a few fast strokes. "You guard the house."

  She dashed out to the Jeep and hopped in, heading to Eddie's as quickly as possible.

  Eddie and Jonathan were both standing outside their beautifully restored Greek Revival house waiting for her when she arrived. They had obviously been crying, their red and swollen eyes testament to their grief. She hugged them both, her heart aching for them, then immediately got down to business.

  "Okay," she said. "Show me."

  "It's this way," Jonathan said, pointing down toward the creek that bordered the property. "You want to wait here, Eddie?" he asked. "I can take Val."

  "Oh, no," Eddie said. "I'm coming, too."

  They walked through the lushly planted garden and then through the parklike grounds toward the rocky creek, Jonathan leading the way, Val taking Eddie's hand in hers.

  "We didn't move him," Eddie said, "because I wanted you to see him first, Val. I don't know whether to call the police or what."

  "We'll have a look," she said.

  "From a distance, he looks like he's spread out just like he's asleep," Eddie told her, "and when I saw him like that, that's what I tried to tell myself. That he was just sleeping. But when I got closer to him, I could see that he definitely wasn't asleep."

  They neared the creek, and Jonathan came to a standstill ahead of them. Val could see his shoulders begin to shake and a hand go up to his mouth. She and Eddie drew up to his side.

  Noah certainly didn't look asleep, she thought. He looked very dead—and as if he'd died in terrible agony. Eddie really had been trying to fool himself at first. The handsome dog was on his back, his forelegs stiffly drawn back and slightly curled. His eyes looked huge, and his mouth was drawn back in a terrible rictus of death.

  She went down on both knees and started to examine his body, but her eyes were drawn to a hideous, fly-infested, bloody-looking mass on the ground near Noah.

  A chunk of meat, she thought, bile rising in her throat. It must have been a roast or something. Her eyes began to tear, but she quickly wiped them and tried to focus on Noah's lifeless body. She examined him, noticing that his eyes were widely dilated. Poison, probably, she thought. She turned to Jonathan.

  "Have you got a freezer bag or any kind of plastic bag I could use?"

  "Sure," he said. "I'll go get it."

  "Thanks, Jonathan," she said.

  "I'll be right back," he said, and he dashed off toward the house.

  "He's been poisoned, hasn't he?" Eddie asked.

  She stood back up and nodded. "Yes, Eddie," she said. "It certainly looks that way."

  "Val, look at this," Eddie said. "The invisible fencing runs just along here." He was drawing a line along the property with an outstretched finger, then pointed to the bridge that crossed the big creek bordering his property. "Whoever did it probably came down the path from the bridge, then walked along the creek, and threw the meat over the invisible fencing to this side."

  He looked at her, studying her face to see what she thought of this scenario.

  Valerie nodded. "It makes sense, Eddie," she said.

  "Noah never crossed the invisible fencing, or at least he hadn't for years," Eddie said. "Two or three shocks when he was younger, and he stayed inside it."

  "So somebody would've had to toss the meat over here to this side of the fencing to get him to eat it," Valerie said. "But who would do a thing like that? And why?"

  Eddie stared into her eyes. "The most important question is, who would've done it that also knew where the fencing ran?"

  Val gazed at him with an expression of curiosity. "Of course, whoever threw the meat to Noah didn't necessarily know about the fence at all. But if what you're saying is true, Eddie, it would probably be somebody who knows you pretty well."

  "Exactly," he said, nodding his head.

  "Do you have somebody in mind?" she asked. "Is there anybody yo
u can think of that didn't like Noah for some reason? Or . . . you?"

  Eddie looked at the ground. "I keep asking myself the same thing, Val," he replied, "but I keep coming up with zilch. Some of the local guys park up near the bridge and come down here to fish, and Noah would sometimes bark at them. But he always stayed on this side of the invisible fencing. He never bit anybody or anything." He shrugged. "I just don't know, Val," he said. "Nobody ever complained to me or anything, and I can't think of anybody who has a grudge against me."

  Jonathan returned with a large freezer bag. "Will this do, Val?" he asked.

  "Perfect," she said. She took the plastic bag from him, then went back down on her knees. She took several Kleenex out of her carryall, then picked up the chunk of meat with them and put it in the bag, along with the Kleenex. She fingered the Ziploc bag shut and rose to her feet.

  "I'll have the lab analyze this," she said, "but I'm pretty sure we all know that there's some kind of poison in the meat." She looked at them. "I'm just so sorry," she added.

  "Thanks for coming over, Val," Eddie said.

  "You'll let us know what they find out?" Jonathan asked.

  "Yes," she said. "I'll call you as soon as I find out anything. I'll put a rush on it, and it'll be sometime this coming week. In the meantime, what do you want to do about Noah?"

  "I don't know if there's a law against it or not," Eddie said, "and I don't give a damn if there is. We're going to bury him here on the property. Down near the gazebo."

  "I can help you," Val offered.

  "No, Val," Jonathan said. "That's okay. We can do it."

  "I'll be glad to help," she said.

  "No, you've done enough," Eddie said. "Jonathan and I'll do it."

  "Do you want to call the police?" she asked. "I can wait for them to come."

  "I don't think so," Eddie said, a defeated sound in his voice. "We don't have a thing to go on, do we?"

  "Just the fact that he was probably poisoned," she said. "And I'll know with what in a few days."