by Leslie Caine
“That’s what she told me she said, too.” Eleanor balled her fists in her lap and stared at them. “What else did she say?”
“That Fitz was a bad man who’d ruined your marriage and Michelle’s, and that she was glad he had died.”
Eleanor grimaced, then looked me straight in the eyes. “You haven’t told Steve any of this, have you?”
“Not yet.” Just the police.
She clasped her hands as if in prayer. “Promise me you won’t tell him.”
“I can’t make that promise, Eleanor. I understand, of course, why you don’t want your son to know. But he’s going to be my husband soon. I don’t want to keep secrets of this magnitude from him.”
Eleanor paled. I decided on the spot that I didn’t want to keep my actions a secret from Steve’s mother, either.
“The stakes couldn’t be any higher for me,” I continued. “A man died in this very house. I felt duty-bound to tell Detective O’Reilly what Amelia said. He assured me that they’d keep it on the down-low, and I can assure you that he was extremely skeptical about Amelia’s claims.”
She got up, as if too anxious to sit still. Reminiscent of her son, she strode toward the window. She turned and stared at me with her hands balled into fists. “My past relationship with Fitz Parker has nothing whatsoever to do with his death!”
“How can you be sure of that?” I asked. “Maybe he made a habit of breaking up marriages. Maybe the killer was a past irate spouse.”
“There weren’t any ‘past irate spouses’ at your shower! But the police will think George and Mark were irate spouses, now that you’ve made it clear that other members of our family knew our secret. The police will assume one of us is guilty! You’ve betrayed your own family!” She had tears in her eyes, and was shaking with rage.
My stomach was in knots. “I did the only thing I could do, Eleanor. It’s our civic duty not to keep secrets from the police when they’re investigating a crime. The police shouldn’t have been learning about this from me in the first place.”
“I have told them, Erin! I told Detective O’Reilly. I begged him to keep it quiet. All that you did by telling him was to make it look like Amelia’s guilty. She wouldn’t hurt a fly!”
“I was just trying to do the right thing,” I said, now feeling truly miserable.
Eleanor closed her eyes for a moment, visibly trying to regain her composure. “Michelle and I wanted to let this blow over. We didn’t want to wreck Steve’s and your wedding.” She sighed and gave me a long, sorrowful look. “None of this is your fault, Erin. I’m sorry. I’m just blaming the messenger…and I’m overly protective of Amelia. Every word she said is true. I don’t know how she found out, but she did. So now I need the chance to tell my husband and son the truth.”
Had I only assumed Amelia had told me that she’d heard it from Michelle? I was certain that I remembered Aunt Bea telling me that she’d heard about Fitz and Michelle sleeping together from Michelle. My head was spinning so badly now that I couldn’t remember our conversation verbatim, even though less than two hours had passed. “Did you ask her how she knew about it?”
“Of course. She wouldn’t say.”
“Maybe Fitz told her at the party,” I suggested.
“Maybe. Unless it was Michelle, who could have told her last week, or clear back when it happened. It’s impossible to know how Amelia’s mind works.”
“My guess would be that Aunt Bea told her. She seems to know everyone’s business, and to be willing to share it.” Aunt Bea might have told me one story and Amelia another one.
“Not where Amelia’s concerned.” Eleanor dropped back down onto the sofa. “She’s as protective of my daughter as I am. Aunt Bea still thinks of her as a child. So Bea would never discuss a matter of this nature with Amelia. Bea would have been giving me an earful for my terrible parenting within seconds flat if she knew that Amelia knew anything about this.”
“Does Mark know?”
Eleanor shook her head with widened eyes, as if banishing the harrowing idea of that possibility actually occurring. “We’ve managed to keep him in the dark. I would never have…used her house, Erin, if I’d had any idea my children would find out.”
She sank her head into her hands, as miserable as I’d ever seen anyone. “George and I had a terrible fight that night. I’d gone to Michelle’s house, but she wasn’t home. She’d told me earlier that she was on the fence about going with Mark to California. And when I couldn’t get Michelle on the phone, I unfortunately assumed she was in the air; she never turns off her phone. But as it turns out, she’d taken Zoey to the sitter’s house and gone to the movies. I had no way of knowing that, Erin. I was too heartbroken to think straight. And too enraged. I called Fitz, and…asked him to come to Michelle’s house and keep me company. I wanted to avenge what my husband had done to me. George had had an affair with his secretary, of all people. The worst cliché in the book! And, well, let’s just say that Fitz was more than happy to oblige.”
“I just feel—”
Eleanor was clearly on a roll, and continued, “Michelle came home and caught Fitz and me in bed in the guest room. It was the worst moment of my life. Needless to say, Michelle was so horrified that all I could do was apologize profusely, and head directly to a hotel. Which is precisely where George found me, an hour or so later. We talked things out, and he promised to never betray me again. As it turns out, George had come to Michelle’s house looking for me…and saw Fitz leaving. I’d deliberately put my car in Michelle’s garage when I’d arrived, so that George couldn’t spot it out front. A couple of weeks after I slept with Fitz, George told me about seeing Fitz slinking away…and that Fitz and Michelle were obviously having an affair. I didn’t have the guts or the decency to set him straight.”
I didn’t know what to say. Finally, I murmured, “I’m so sorry.”
She released a heavy sigh. Otherwise, we sat in silence for quite a while.
“I guess it’s only right that I felt so obliged to confess all of this to you,” she finally said, her voice low and indescribably sad. “Now you know precisely what kind of mother-in-law you’re getting.” A teardrop slid down her cheek. “Now you know why you shouldn’t feel like you need to impress me. Maybe you can even begin to understand why I’ve been so…lifeless with regards to your wedding plans.” She met my gaze with her tearful eyes. “I want to be able to celebrate for both of you, Erin. I really do. But it’s been such a gut-wrenching déjà vu for me, all this time.”
“I can see that, and I can imagine how intensely painful it was to have Fitz involved in your son’s wedding. But…I just don’t understand why. Why did you let Michelle convince me to hire Fitz Parker as my wedding planner?”
Bearing a facial expression reminiscent of her son when he was horribly stressed, she massaged her temples. “We both started to get blackmailed, Erin. By Fitz. He told us that he had to play hardball. That business was down, he couldn’t establish himself in Crestview, and he needed us to get your wedding.”
Yeesh! “How did he even know that we were planning to get married?”
“That engagement notice that you two put in the Crestview paper.”
“Oh, right. I’d forgotten. We didn’t put it in the newspaper; Audrey did. She thought it would be great free publicity for Sullivan and Gilbert Designs.”
Ignoring my attempt at a segue toward a less-painful topic, Eleanor muttered, “I put my own happiness above my own children’s happiness. Michelle’s. Steve’s. And now, as it turns out, Amelia’s. All so that George wouldn’t find out that I’d vindictively slept with another man.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You didn’t know things would turn out like this, Eleanor. I can see why you assumed that no harm was done if George never found out it was you, not your daughter. I’ve read advice from therapists who say that the spouse who strays is being selfish by confessing to the affair. That sparing your husband’s feelings is more important than unburdening your guilt.
”
“But I allowed him to believe that his daughter was having an affair.”
“Did that make George think less of her?”
“Actually, no. If anything, he was relieved. He was hoping that she’d leave Mark. She only married him because he’d gotten her pregnant.”
“So there’s a second reason why it made sense not to tell George the truth…as long as Mark wasn’t led to believe Michelle was being unfaithful.”
Eleanor nodded a little. She seemed to be a little less distraught. “The last thing I ever imagined would happen was that he’d be murdered at your wedding shower. I’m sure he only came to the party to try to hit on your bridal party.”
“I think the important point here is that Fitz blackmailed both you and Michelle over his bad behavior. For all we know, that was how he earned most of his money”
“You think he could have blackmailed other people as well?” Eleanor asked.
“Yes, and I think that, regardless of his agreement with the two of you, he could have told Drew Benson. Or Mark.”
“Michelle and I talked about the possibility that he’d claim to Mark that he’d slept with her. That’s the biggest reason we gave into his threat. We agreed that our best option was to simply convince you that Fitz Parker was the best wedding coordinator in Crestview, and that it would mean so much to us if you’d hire him.”
“Do you think Amelia or Michelle gave him the necklace as a final payment?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s possible, I guess. The thought did occur to me.”
“Have you discussed any of this with Michelle?”
“Not yet. I came straight here after talking to Amelia. I’m just trying to…stop the damage. I’ve already told George. He’s livid with me. But he knows it’s in the past. He’ll get over it.” She searched my eyes. “But, Erin…I want to tell Steve myself. After you’re back from your honeymoon. Please, let me do that, Erin.”
“I just don’t think that’s feasible, Eleanor. Waiting that long, with a murder investigation going on, and so many people involved. The whole thing is tied to our wedding. Can’t you please talk to him now? He should be getting home any minute.”
She grimaced, but said nothing. A few seconds later, she replied, “I want to go talk to Michelle. As soon as I can. I’m not comfortable with any of this. Amelia’s with her. I’m sure they’re hashing through all of this now, in their own way. They seem to have their own language. They’ve always been so close.” She smiled a little. “Amelia’s great with Zoey, my granddaughter. She rarely babysits without George or me there, too, though. Amelia’s always worried that she’ll have a bad day, right when she’s alone with the two-year-old.”
“Amelia’s afraid she might unintentionally hurt her?”
“Or scare her to death by saying something bizarre. Or by doing something outlandish. Or fall asleep when she shouldn’t. The meds can be really intensely soporific.”
All told, Mark was surely the police’s prime suspect. “Is Mark a good father?”
“He really is. That’s his one saving grace. And he’s certainly been an excellent provider, thanks to Aunt Bea getting him the job.”
“And Aunt Bea doesn’t know that you….” I let my voice trail off.
“No, and once again, please, please don’t tell her.”
“I won’t. That much I can promise you.”
“Thank you so much, Erin. If you’re coming to the service in Denver tomorrow, I’ll tell Steve the truth afterward. I can see why you wouldn’t want to burdened with all of this for any longer than that. George, I’m quite certain, won’t be there. Nor will Amelia.”
“Thank you.”
“Obviously, it’s the very least I can do.”
“This will be all right, at some point, Eleanor. We’ll all get through this. You’ll see.”
“I suppose so.”
She pulled me into a hug, then let herself out. I stood still for several minutes, trying to make sense of this. I had to make such a big adjustment to past conversations and ongoing assumptions. It all began to make sense, though—Eleanor’s stand-offish behavior. The general lack of joy that I’d detected from Eleanor and Michelle.
What a sleazebag Fitz had been! To think that he’d complained to me about Drew’s behavior. Now I understood why Drew had been so rude to him and eager to get his own chef to take the place of Fitz’s. That concept, at least, was an enormous relief. Maybe I’d misjudged Drew, after all.
Chapter 15
The skies were appropriately gray for Fitz’s funeral in Denver the following morning. Audrey, Bea, and I had carpooled in Audrey’s car; Steve had driven separately and was coming from an antique store on Broadway in Denver.
To my surprise, Drew arrived right behind Steve, obviously having followed Steve’s car into the parking lot. He must have joined up with Steve at the store, but it was odd that he’d go way out of his way to attend the service of someone he openly disliked and had only a slim connection with. He was speaking on his cellphone while he and Steve approached, side by side. Audrey and Bea had gone inside and were saving Steve’s and my seats. Drew grinned at me and nodded in greeting, then lowered his phone and said, “This could take a while. Go on in, and I’ll see you afterward.”
Steve took my hand, and we found our seats between Audrey and Aunt Bea. I was anxious to get the service over and done with. Eleanor’s promise to hold off on telling Steve about her relationship with Fitz had put me into a box. I’d had a miserable time trying not to talk about it last night during our phone conversation. The more effort I put into steering us away from the subject, the harder it was to think about anything else to say. If Eleanor couldn’t go through with telling him today, I would have to tell him myself.
I looked around and spotted Eleanor. George was there, too, right by Eleanor’s side. I felt both relief for her sake that he was being supportive of his wife, and fear that his presence would mean she couldn’t be alone with Steve for a private conversation.
Drew entered and was coming toward us until he caught sight of Aunt Bea in the aisle seat of our row. He took a seat a couple of rows behind her. I kept an eye out for Michelle, and finally saw her sneak into the very back of the room. She was wearing a large-brimmed hat and sunglasses. The sight sent a chill up my spine. Her outfit struck me as what an abused woman trying to hide her bruises might wear.
The proceedings began. Fitz had an older brother, who spoke eloquently in his eulogy about what a great guy Fitz was. Their parents were sobbing throughout. Some of Fitz’s family still lived in Chicago, but the brother said that they knew Fitz had made Colorado his home ever since he was an eighteen year old freshman. Seeing all of our faces here had let him and his family know that Fitz had been loved, and that he had found his home among us. Apparently so much so that they’d chosen to have the service in Denver instead of Chicago.
For a moment, it appeared that the eulogy was over, but he put his notes away and looked out at us, with tears in his eyes. “To whoever took my brother’s life, come forward. Confess. You can never give us Fitz’s life back. But you can atone for what you did during this lifetime.” He looked straight into my eyes and stared at me for at least half of a minute, not speaking. “Otherwise, you will answer to a higher court for all eternity.”
Stunned, I glanced at the pamphlet we’d been handed. The eulogist’s name was Jeffrey Parker. It rang no bells. He would only know what I looked like if he’d scanned my business website. Fitz must have told him he was doing our wedding. But he had never mentioned he had a brother, let alone introduced us, so why would his brother stare at me like that?
The stranger seated next to Audrey leaned forward and looked at me, as did her companion. Sullivan squeezed my hand. The couple in front of me, whom I also didn’t know, turned and looked at me. I could see heads turning ahead of them as well and my cheeks felt aflame.
As soon as the organist started to play a dirge, I whispered into Steve’s ear, “Why
was he looking at me?”
“He probably didn’t mean to. Don’t worry.”
The rest of the service passed in an immensely uncomfortable blur, with the perpetual sense that people were trying to sneak little glances at me. Whenever our eyes met, I caught their horrified expressions just before they quickly looked away. I’d never met Fitz’s brother and didn’t even know he existed. I didn’t know any of Fitz’s family members, and none of them knew me. I barely knew Fitz. Sullivan had to be right. But it sure didn’t feel accidental that he’d focused with laser-like intensity on me.
As we started the recessional from the front to the back, I dutifully rose, but Steve grabbed my arm. “Let’s just wait here for a little while till the room clears out.”
“No. I want to speak to Fitz’s brother in case there’s a misunderstanding. I also want to speak to Michelle before she runs off.” I glanced in the direction where George and Eleanor had been seated. They’d already left the room. So much for getting her and Steve alone together.
Steve relented and stood up, as well, but said with his lips barely moving, “My gut says you need to let this go, Gilbert.”
“Guts have low IQs. The man glared at me with pure hatred in his eyes. I can’t leave him with the false impression that I had anything to do with killing his brother.”
“Steve’s right,” Audrey said. “He was probably slightly cross-eyed and was actually glaring at me, for hosting the party.” She linked her arm around mine. “Let’s not borrow trouble. Skip the recession line and let’s avoid talking to the Parkers. Shall we?”
Audrey obviously didn’t believe the man was cross-eyed any more than I did. Even so, I allowed myself to be ushered outside. I took a few deep breaths. The autumnal air was nice and crisp, and the first sight that greeted me was an absolutely splendid maple tree, its leaves varying from yellow orange to a rich dark red. They were right. Anyone who knew me at all knew I was completely innocent. I didn’t need to confront a grieving family member to plead my case. I should focus on finding Eleanor, with Steve on my arm, and give her the opportunity to arrange a private conversation with her son, while I drove home with Audrey.
