by Joanne Fluke
“Better?”
Marcie nodded. Then she cleared her throat. She didn’t want to know, but she had to ask. “How did . . . I mean, who was the one to . . . to . . .”
“Find her?”
Mercedes nodded gratefully as he finished the sentence for her. The question that had been hovering ominously in the back of her mind was out in the open now, where it could be answered. Not the twins! Anyone but the twins. It was horrifying to think of Trish and Rick finding their mother dead.
Sam seemed to read her mind, because he quickly set her fears to rest. “It’s all right, Marcie. The twins didn’t find her. When Rosa brought them home, she assumed that Mercedes was still at the studio. She put Trish and Rick to bed, and then she went out on the patio to sweep it. She did that every night. That’s when she found Mercedes.”
Marcie nodded, greatly relieved, and asked the other question. “How did it . . . uh . . . happen?”
“It was an accidental drowning. Mercedes was swimming laps in the pool.”
“I know.” Marcie nodded, blinking back tears. “She always said that swimming was the only thing that kept her in shape.”
Sam squeezed her hands again. It was clear he didn’t want to go on, but Marcie was looking at him expectantly. “Mercedes had been . . . drinking quite heavily. The police found an empty bottle of white wine on the cabana table. They think Mercedes got a cramp, and she wasn’t alert enough to pull herself out of the water.”
“But . . .” Marcie struggled to find the words. “I know Mercy didn’t drink very much. She said liquor had too many calories. And she was a very good swimmer. How could she just . . . drown?”
“Mercedes had been dieting for a scene in Summer Heat. And she drank the wine on an empty stomach. Add a cramp to the mix, and even a strong swimmer might panic and go under.”
Marcie nodded reluctantly. “I . . . I suppose you’re right. Then, no one else was there?”
“No.” Sam squeezed her hands again. He knew she was thinking about her sister, alone in the water, crying out for someone to help her. Ever since Brad had called him, he’d been imagining the same thing. And several times, during his uneasy sleep, he’d had nightmares about Mercedes’s beautiful face, distorted by terror, when she realized she was helpless and drowning. “Don’t think about it, Marcie. It won’t do any good. Just think about how we can help the twins.”
Marcie nodded and squared her shoulders. Dwelling on the terrible details of her sister’s death wouldn’t help to bring her back. The twins needed Marcie. She had to be strong for them. “You’re right, Sam. I’m sorry. I just needed to know. How is Brad taking it?”
“Not very well.” Sam shook his head. “I think he’s blaming himself.”
“But . . . why?”
“Because he wasn’t home. He had a meeting with their horse trainer, and then he went to the racetrack. He told me he’d given Rosa some money to take the twins to a movie.”
Marcie nodded. “I see. But he couldn’t have known. I mean . . . it’s not his fault no one was there.”
“Of course not, but to top things off, he’d recommended the wine that Mercedes was drinking. He feels guilty about all those things. And I’m feeling guilty, too.”
“You?” Marcie looked up at him in surprise. “Why do you feel guilty?”
“Because Mercedes called me earlier. And I didn’t realize that she’d been drinking. If I had, I could have gone up to the house and taken care of her until Brad or Rosa got home.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense at all!” Marcie shook her head. “Mercedes was an actress. And I know she could act cold sober even when she wasn’t. I remember one time in high school when we had warm gin at the lake and . . . but I shouldn’t really talk about that.”
Sam smiled. “Don’t worry, Marcie. You’re not telling tales out of school. Mercedes loved to tell me stories about when she was growing up with you in Minnesota. She remembered it as the happiest time in her life.”
“Yes . . . it was.” Marcie smiled through her tears. “I’m so sorry we drifted apart. She was out here with her career and everything, and I was back there. And then she got married and had the babies, and I only saw her once or twice a year. We talked on the phone every week or so, but that’s not the same as actually seeing each other.”
“You weren’t close then?”
“That’s just it.” Marcie sighed deeply. “We were close. But we lived in different worlds. She was a glamorous star and I . . . I was just a high school art teacher.”
Sam nodded. “I know exactly what you mean, Marcie. I used to be very close to my older brother, but we drifted apart, too. Now I only see him at the occasional family reunion.”
There was a long moment of silence. Sam knew Marcie was feeling bad, so he deliberately broke into her reverie. “You were about to tell me about the warm gin at the lake?”
“Yes.” Marcie smiled as she remembered that night so long ago. “Did Mercedes tell you we drank that gin with beer chasers?”
“Beer chasers?!”
Marcie actually laughed at the incredulous expression on Sam’s face, but then she turned solemn. “Do you think it’s right, talking about Mercedes like this? It feels almost disrespectful.”
“It’s not.” Sam looked very serious. “I think talking about Mercedes is the very best thing we can do. It’ll keep her alive in our hearts.”
Marcie smiled through her tears. “Oh, Sam! That was beautiful! And I . . . I think you’re right. It would certainly make me feel better to tell you all the old stories about her.”
“So . . . ?” Sam smiled back. “Tell me about the gin with beer chasers. Mercedes didn’t mention the beer.”
“I think I can understand why she left that part out. It was pretty dreadful. But we were just kids back then, and we were experimenting. Mercedes had just finished reading a book about Denmark, and it mentioned that the Danes toasted with Akavit, followed by beer chasers. We didn’t know what Akavit was but there was a picture, and we thought it looked like gin.”
“And where did you get the gin?”
Marcie looked very guilty. “We found it in the back of our parents’ liquor cabinet. To be perfectly honest, I was the one who suggested we pour out half, and fill the bottle up with water. We knew Mom and Dad never drank gin, and we figured their friends would never embarrass them by asking if it was watered.”
“Ah ha!” Sam grinned at her. “Premeditated deception. How did you get the beer?”
“That was easy.” Marcie smiled, lost in her memory of happier times. “Our neighbors used to have a barbecue every Wednesday night, and they kept the beer in a big tub of ice by the hedge. Mercy and I reached through the branches and pulled out bottles until we’d collected a six-pack.”
“All the same brand?”
“Oh, no.” Marcie looked shocked. “We were afraid they’d be missed if we took a whole six-pack of the same brand. We got two bottles of Hamms, two of Grain Belt, one North Star, and a Cold Spring Dark.”
“Ver y smart. How did you get it out to the lake?”
“We hid the beer and gin in an old suitcase, and then we waited until we went out to our lake cabin. We stashed the bottles in an old bait bucket, and that night we sat out on the end of the dock and toasted everybody we could think of.”
“How much did you drink?” Sam winced a little.
“I was a lightweight. I had two sips of gin and a bottle of beer. Then I stopped, because my head was spinning. But Mercedes kept right on drinking until the beer ran out.”
“And your parents were waiting up for you?”
“That’s right.” Marcie smiled fondly. “Mercedes saved me. She told them I had to go straight to our room to put lotion on my mosquito bites.”
“They believed it?”
“Of course. We have billions of mosquitos in Minnesota. The mosquito is practically the state bird.”
Sam choked on his coffee, and Marcie glanced at him in surprise. She hadn’t though
t she was being funny. “Anyway, Mercedes talked to our parents for a good fifteen minutes. Then she came to bed and passed out cold in all her clothes.”
“She must have been sick the next morning.”
Marcie laughed. “Not a bit, but she couldn’t remember anything after the second bottle of beer. Our parents never asked us whether we’d been drinking so I guess she pulled it off.”
“She was remarkable, wasn’t she?”
“She certainly was!” Marcie nodded. “What was she like when you met her, Sam? I was in college back then.”
Sam told her about the first time he’d met Mercedes, right before she’d married Mike. Then Marcie told him about their senior play, and how Mercedes had stolen the show. They talked about Mercedes all through dinner, trading stories and actually laughing at the funny things they remembered. Marcie had just finished telling him about the time Mercedes had accepted two dates for the same night, and conned Marcie into pretending to be her so she could be two places at once, when she realized that Sam was staring at her in surprise. “What’s the matter, Sam? Don’t you believe me?”
“Of course, I believe you.” Sam looked dubious as he stared at her. “Was it a blind date?”
Marcie laughed. “No, it wasn’t a blind date. And he wasn’t blind either, if that’s what you mean. Mercedes and I are identical twins. We used to switch places and fool people all the time, even people who knew us well.”
Marcie could tell that Sam still wasn’t convinced, but she let it pass. She knew she didn’t look like her twin now, not in the simply tailored blouse and skirt she’d worn to school. Mercedes had dressed in glamorous clothes, and her hair and makeup were always perfect. A high school teacher in St. Cloud, Minnesota, couldn’t look like a fashion plate. If she did, she’d be accused of putting on airs.
“I’m glad you enjoyed your dinner.”
Sam was grinning, and Marcie looked down at her empty plate in surprise. She’d eaten every bite of her dinner, and she’d told Sam she wasn’t hungry!
“I guess I was hungry, after all.” Marcie gave a little shrug of apology. “Thank you, Sam. I’m so glad you met me at the airport.”
They shared a smile as Marcie reached for another crusty French roll. She felt much better. Sam had been right. Talking about Mercedes had helped. She was very grateful to him for helping her through these first difficult hours.
They shared a sinfully rich chocolate dessert, which Marcie claimed she didn’t need and Sam insisted she did. And then they went to pick up her suitcases at the baggage carousel. But Marcie’s suitcases weren’t there.
The baggage supervisor was very apologetic as he explained that Marcie’s suitcases had been traced to Chicago. He’d called, and the supervisor at O’Hare had promised that they would be sent on the first available flight to Los Angeles. Unfortunately, that flight wouldn’t land until three in the morning. No, Marcie didn’t need to come back to the airport to pick up her luggage. The airline would send someone out to deliver it to her door the next day.
“It’s a good thing Shirley Whitford packed a carry-on for me.” Marcie sighed as Sam loaded the small bag in the trunk of his car. “At least I have the bare essentials, but I’m going to need a change of clothes for tomorrow. Do you think they’ll deliver my suitcases early in the morning?”
“Maybe, if you’re lucky.”
“What do you mean?” Marcie gave him an anxious look as they got on the freeway and headed off toward the house in Mandeville Canyon.
“I lost a suitcase on my last trip from New York. They delivered it ten days later with tags from Washington, Texas, Nevada, and Hawaii.”
“Oh, dear!” Marcie frowned. “But you did get it back, right?”
Sam nodded. “I did. And everything was inside, including the smoked whitefish I’d bought at Zabar’s. It was a little worse for the wear, after its long vacation.”
“Oh, no!” Marcie giggled. “Well, I don’t have anything perishable in mine. Just some clothes and . . . Oh, they’ve put up lights!”
Marcie gasped as they stopped at the wrought-iron gates at the base of the winding driveway. The ten-foot walls surrounding her sister’s estate were lit with bright floodlights . “They didn’t have all these the last time I was here. It’s lit up like a fairy-tale castle.”
Sam nodded. “The lights are new. Mercedes had them installed with the security system. They’re decorative, but they’re also functional. Without the lights, you couldn’t see who was coming up the driveway on the closed-circuit monitors.”
“Closed-circuit monitors?” Marcie was puzzled. “That sounds very sophisticated.”
Sam rolled down his window and picked up a telephone. “It’s state-of-the-art. This telephone rings in the house. That lets Brad know we’re here. He’ll check the monitor to make sure it’s us, and then he’ll click us in.”
There was a click and the gates rolled back. Sam replaced the phone and drove forward. As soon as his car had cleared the gates, they closed again.
“Good heavens!” Marcie was definitely impressed. “But I don’t understand, Sam. Mercedes told me there was very little crime out here. Why did she need such a fancy system?”
Sam shrugged. “It’s a big estate. And Mercedes was a very well-known actress. I don’t think she was being overly cautious, especially since Brad was away on business so often.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Marcie nodded, but she was still surprised. Mercedes had never mentioned being afraid to stay alone before. Had she sensed she was in some kind of danger? She’d have to ask Brad when the time was right.
Brad was waiting for them by the front door, and Marcie almost cried as she caught sight of his grief-stricken face. A wave of pity swept through her, and suddenly she was very glad she’d flown out to California to help. It was clear that Brad wasn’t coping well, and the twins were probably devastated. Marcie wasn’t sure what she could do to comfort them all, but she was determined to try.
The first time Marcie met Brad, she’d felt a twinge of uncharacteristic envy for her twin sister. Brad had dark wavy hair, and blue eyes so deep, they were almost purple. His skin was tanned to a rich copper color, and he had the body of a natural athlete. Mercedes had told her he worked out at a health club every morning, and the results were quite apparent. Although Brad was over six feet tall and very well-muscled, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him.
Brad and Mercedes had made a stunning couple, the perfect match in a Hollywood dream. When their wedding picture had appeared in the Los Angeles Times, one showbiz reporter had nicknamed them Cinderella and Prince Charming.
As soon as Sam stopped the car, Marcie got out and ran to embrace Brad. There were tears in her eyes as she held him tightly.
“Marcie. I’m so glad you’re here.”
Brad’s voice was shaking, and Marcie was sure he’d been crying. Poor Brad! What an awful tragedy!
“Are you all right, Marcie?”
Marcie nodded. Thanks to Sam, she was back in control. And not a moment too soon! “I’m fine. At least I’m as fine as I can be . . . under the circumstances.”
“Here, I’ll get that.” Brad hurried to the back of the car, where Sam was unloading her carry-on bag. “Thanks, Sam. I just couldn’t face a trip to the airport. You’re a real friend.”
“Hey . . . I’m always here to help.” Sam handed over the bag with a smile. But Marcie noticed a flicker of emotion on Sam’s face, and she instinctively knew that these two men weren’t friends.
Brad didn’t seem to notice. Either he was too upset to be observant, or she was imagining the whole thing. After all, they were walking toward her and both men were smiling.
“Come in for a drink, Sam?”
Sam looked ready to refuse, but then he glanced at Marcie. “Okay. But I can only stay for a couple of minutes. I’ve got an early meeting with a client tomorrow.”
Brad opened the front door, and they all went inside. Marcie was ready to greet the twins, but they didn’t
run down the stairs to hug her, as they usually did. “Are the twins in bed already?”
Brad shook his head. “No, they’re at Rosa’s. I thought it might be best for tonight. I knew you’d be tired after your trip, and I wasn’t sure what shape you’d be in . . . I mean the shock and all.”
“But are they all right?”
Brad nodded. “They’re doing better than we thought they would. And they wanted to stay with Rosa. She’s like a second mother to them, you know.”
Marcie nodded, even though she was disappointed. Brad was right. Rosa had taken care of the twins when they were babies, and Trish and Rick often stayed overnight with her. It was probably for the best, at least on this first night.
“Scotch?” Brad turned to Sam as they walked down the hall to the den.
Sam nodded. “That’s fine.”
“Marcie? You look like you could use a drink.”
Marcie hesitated. She rarely drank, and when she did, it was one glass of white wine. Now that she knew what Mercedes had been drinking on the night she died, she didn’t want to ask for the same thing.
“I have a very good bottle of Chardonnay. And an excellent Riesling. Or there’s a very nice chilled Beaujolais.”
“Well . . . all right. I’ll have a glass of the Beaujolais.” Marcie gave him a smile. It would be a breach of good taste to refuse, and a glass of wine might relax her and help her to get a good night’s sleep. She’d need all her strength tomorrow, when the twins came home.
Marcie sat down on the leather couch and watched as Brad opened the EuroCave wine cooler Mercedes had told her about. Beaujolais was red wine, if she remembered correctly. She held her breath as he extracted the cork and gave a small sigh of relief as he poured it into a glass. It was red, thank goodness!
As Brad handed her the glass of Beaujolais, Marcie noticed that Sam was smiling at her approvingly. Had he guessed that she was avoiding white wine for Brad’s sake? If so, he was very perceptive.
Brad poured Sam’s scotch in a crystal tumbler and handed it to him. “Here you go, buddy. Why don’t you try my massage chair? It takes out all the kinks. I’ll sit over here with Marcie.”
