by Joanne Fluke
“That’s right. And now he wants to marry you. Doesn’t that strike you as slightly suspicious?”
Marcie glared at him. “No. It doesn’t. Brad loves me and I love him. And I refuse to listen to any more!”
“Okay.” George nodded. “I won’t mention it again. It was my duty to warn you, and I did. But I wish you’d take my warning seriously.”
“How can I be serious about that suspect list, when I’m on it myself?” Marcie faced him angrily. “You know that’s absolutely ridiculous!”
“Of course, I do. But you did have a motive. And Mercedes might have told you the security code. I can’t knock suspects off the list, just because I like them. That isn’t good police work.”
“But I was in Minnesota! There’s no way I could have murdered my sister!”
“Sure there is.” George looked very serious. “You could have arranged a hit on Mercedes. Life is cheap. A couple thousand would have done it. And then you waltz out here as the grief-stricken sister.”
“How could a murderer be grief-stricken?”
George shrugged. “That wouldn’t be difficult. Everyone at the studio says you’re an extremely good actress. And after you convince everyone you’re truly inconsolable, you inherit everything and marry your sister’s husband.”
“That’s sickening! I loved my sister! How can you even think that I would . . .”
“I don’t.” George reached out to take her arm. “I don’t think for one moment that you did it, Marcie. I’m just showing you the way cops think.”
Marcie was silent for a moment, and then she nodded. “You’re right, George. Cops do think that way. And that’s why I wouldn’t make a good cop.”
“That’s probably true. You’re very trusting, Marcie. There are times when I wish I could be that trusting. But cops tend to be cynical, and you don’t have a cynical bone in your body.”
“Well . . . maybe one.” Marcie giggled. Her good spirits restored. It was a relief to know that George didn’t really suspect her. “My left elbow’s been feeling a bit cynical lately.”
George laughed, and Marcie could tell that he was relieved. “We’re still friends then?”
“Always.”
“Good.” George put the car in gear and pulled out from the curb. “I hope you still feel that way when I prove that Mercedes was murdered.”
“Of course, I will. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I’m afraid you’ll be on the suspect list. And so will Brad. The police will come around to ask you a lot of questions.”
Marcie shrugged and leaned back in her seat. “We can handle it. And as long as there’s no law about two suspects falling in love and getting married, it won’t bother us a bit.”
Marcie stood in the reception line, dressed in a lovely white bridal gown. Her smile was radiant as she greeted the people who had come to celebrate their wedding day. Her handsome husband stood at her side, his arm possessively around her shoulders. Every once in a while, he gave her shoulder a loving squeeze.
“I’m so glad to meet you.” Marcie looked up at her husband’s mistress with the eyes of a trusting spaniel. “We’re having a little house-warming party when we get back from our honeymoon. I really hope you’ll come.”
The beautiful redheaded woman looked shocked for a beat, and then she smiled. “Why, thank you! I’d love to. So nice of you to invite me.”
“Who was that?” Marcie’s mother tapped her on the shoulder. She looked upset as the beautiful redhead made her graceful way through the milling crowd to join the party in the other room.
“Craig’s secretary. Isn’t she pretty?”
“Yes.” Marcie’s mother stared off toward the spot where the secretary had disappeared. “Do you know much about her, dear?”
“Not really. But Craig says he can’t get along without her. She practically runs his whole office.”
“Let’s hope that’s all she runs.”
Marcie turned to look at her mother. “What do you mean, Mom?” She seemed to be a very nice person.”
“I’m sure she is, dear. Very nice.”
Marcie looked into the camera with a slightly puzzled expression. It was clear she didn’t understand her mother’s implication. There was a beat of silence, and then Dave yelled, “Cut! Very good, Marcie.”
“Thanks, Dave.” Marcie slipped out from beneath Ashley Thorpe’s arm. “Okay, Lee. You can move now.”
“Thank God! My arm was starting to cramp. Where did you get that innocent expression? It’s incredibly effective.”
“Mercedes and I had a cocker spaniel when we were kids, and Cookie always gave us that look when she wanted us to pet her. We always did, so it must have worked.”
“Well, it was perfect!” Sandra Shepard patted Marcie on the back. “I really believed you were totally naive, and I wanted to pull you away for a nice, long, mother-daughter talk.”
“She’s right, Marcie.” Dave Allen came up to join them. “Your take is wonderful. I think it’s because you’re so naturally trusting.”
Marcie laughed. “Thanks . . . I think. Do you really think I look that innocent?”
“Absolutely!” Rhea Delaney nodded. “It’s all in the hairstyle. Loose and fluffy. So natural it looks like you set it in curlers yourself.”
Beau LeTeure shook his head. “The hairstyle’s nice, but I made her up to look innocent. It’s that primrose blusher I put on her cheeks.”
“Don’t forget the costume.” Elena Garvey turned to smile at Marcie. “I designed a beautiful fairy-tale wedding gown. All you have to do is look at her, and you know she thinks she’ll live happily ever after.”
Marcie looked down at the gown and nodded. “It’s gorgeous, Elena. Maybe I should borrow it for my wedding.”
“Your wedding?” Dave looked shocked. “You’re getting married?”
Marcie nodded. She hadn’t meant to break the news of her engagement quite yet, but now the cat was out of the bag.
There was shocked silence on the set for a moment, and then Ashley Thorpe threw his arms around Marcie and gave her a hug. “Congratulations, sweetheart. I knew Sam would get up the nerve to ask you sooner or later.”
Marcie winced. Sam again. “It’s not Sam. Brad proposed to me on Saturday. And I accepted.”
“Well . . . that’s great, honey!” Sandra put on a big smile. “When’s the happy day?”
“Not for at least six months. We wanted to give the twins time to adjust to the idea.”
“That’s wise.” Elena nodded. “And, of course, you can borrow the gown . . . can’t she, Dave?”
Dave smiled. “Naturally. Send it out for cleaning, Elena, and then have it delivered to Marcie’s home.”
“Are you going to invite us? I didn’t get to go to your—” Jolene stopped and looked embarrassed. “I mean . . . I haven’t been to a wedding in ages, and I just love weddings!”
Marcie smiled at her. “We haven’t really made any plans yet, but, of course, you’re all invited. I thought we should keep it small, because of . . . the circumstances and all.”
There was another uncomfortable silence, and then everyone began to congratulate Marcie at once. Reuben Lowe, the head cameraman, came on the set to promise her he’d do a video of her wedding, and Tom Porter climbed down from the catwalk where he was adjusting the lights, to hug her. Dave called Ralph Buchannan, who said he wanted to host an engagement party, and the actress who played the mistress started to make arrangements for a studio bridal shower.
After about five minutes, Ashley Thorpe came up to Marcie and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, blushing bride. You just promised to love and obey me, so I’m ordering you to come to my trailer to rehearse our next scene.”
“Careful, Marcie.” Dave Allen laughed. “Don’t forget that scene we just shot.”
Marcie looked puzzled. “The wedding scene?”
“Right. And we’re doing the honeymoon next. I think it’s only fair to warn you that Lee’s a method actor.�
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Marcie was still laughing as she stepped inside Lee’s trailer, but she quickly sobered when she saw his face. “What’s wrong, Lee?”
“Look, Marcie. I know I’m about to jump in where angels fear to tread, but I think you ought to think very carefully about marrying Brad.”
“But why?” Marcie felt a sense of dread as she looked up into Lee’s unyielding face.
“Sit down.” Lee motioned toward the couch. “And then listen carefully. I’m going to tell you something in the strictest confidence. I want you to promise you’ll keep my secret.”
Marcie sighed. Another secret to keep. But Lee looked so serious, she had to agree. “All right, Lee. I promise. What is it?”
“Your sister and I got to be very good friends on this picture. Do you understand what I mean?”
“I . . . I think so.” Marcie clasped her hands in her lap to keep them from trembling. Mercedes had been a beautiful woman. And Lee was a handsome man. They’d been thrown together constantly on long work days, in and out of each other’s trailers, rehearsing romantic scenes. “Are you trying to tell me that you and Mercedes had an affair?”
Lee nodded. “That’s right. But even more important than that, we were very good friends. And good friends who are also lovers discuss some very personal details.”
“But . . . I thought you had a happy marriage.”
“I do. I’ve never had an affair before, and I doubt I’ll ever have another. Mercedes was the exception. I love my wife. And I loved Mercedes. She knew that, Marcie, and neither of us had any plans to continue our affair after the picture was over.”
“Then why did you . . .” Marcie stopped, unsure of how to phrase her question.
“Because Mercedes was in trouble, and she needed me. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a noble man, and I didn’t walk into an affair with your lovely sister for purely altruistic reasons. We had a wonderful time in bed, but that wasn’t all we had. I’d like to think I helped Mercedes get through some very trying times in her marriage.”
Even though she was upset, Marcie managed to nod calmly. She’d taken enough psychology classes in college to suspect that Lee was rationalizing his affair with Mercedes. Of course, there was no way she’d accuse him of that. What good would it do, now that her sister was dead? If it made him feel less guilty to think he’d helped Mercedes, she’d let him hang on to his delusion.
“You said that Mercedes was in trouble. And then you mentioned trying times. Wasn’t Mercedes happy with Brad?”
“No, she wasn’t. No one else knew that, Marcie. Your sister was very careful to maintain appearances. She wanted everyone to think that she was content with Brad. I think I was the only person who knew how truly miserable she was.”
“But why did she pretend things were fine, when they weren’t?”
Lee sighed. “She felt she had to keep up the illusion of a happy marriage for the twins. They hadn’t wanted her to marry Brad in the first place, and she didn’t want to upset them with a divorce. Part of it was pride. Mercedes didn’t want to admit that her marriage had failed. And when I asked, she admitted that the situation wasn’t actually that bad. Brad didn’t abuse her or embarrass her in public. And he was always good to the children.”
“What was wrong then?”
“When they were first married, Brad made some bad investments. Mercedes resented the fact that she had to bail him out. She said she was worried about her children’s future, if Brad continued to spend money like it was water.”
Marcie frowned. “But there was a lot of money left. I know. I inherited it. Why didn’t she just tell him he couldn’t invest any more of her money?”
“Mercedes hated confrontations. I’m not sure she even mentioned the problem to him.”
Marcie nodded. “Then Brad didn’t know she was upset?”
“I doubt it. Mercedes hardly saw him, you know. She complained that he was always out of town on business.”
Marcie took a moment to digest that information. If Mercedes had been worried about their finances, she should have discussed it with Brad. Marcie knew her sister had never been very knowledgeable about business. Marcie had always been the one to balance her checkbook when they were in high school, and warn her sister against signing up for something on a time-payment plan. Perhaps Brad had explained his investments to Mercedes, and she hadn’t understood that some ventures took longer to pay off than others.
Mercedes’s second complaint was legitimate. Brad did go out of town quite frequently. But he had a business to run, and he’d explained to Marcie that he never invested in a company unless he’d personally gone over the books and discussed the operating procedures with the management. Had Mercedes expected Brad to spend twenty-four hours a day with her, the way Mike Lang had done?
If that was the case, Mercedes had wanted the impossible. After all, she and Mike had been in the same business. Mercedes had worked in every picture Mike had produced after they married, and they’d been together on the set and then at home. She certainly couldn’t have expected Brad to do the same. Could she?
Marcie sighed. That was probably exactly what Mercedes had expected. Even as a child, Mercedes had never been happy unless she’d been the center of attention. Marcie had always been content to step back and let her sister bask in the limelight. It was one of the reasons Marcie was so shy. And obviously Brad hadn’t given Mercedes all the attention she’d thought she deserved.
Now, as Marcie considered it, her sister’s complaints seemed rather trivial to her. And they were certainly no reason to break up a marriage. She turned to Lee with a frown on her face. “That’s all that was wrong?”
Lee looked very uncomfortable. “There’s more. Mercedes told me that Brad just wasn’t the kind of loving husband she thought he’d be, when she married him.”
“I see.” Marcie nodded, although she was puzzled. Why had Mercedes lied about Brad? She’d obviously convinced Lee that Brad wasn’t a good lover, and Marcie knew from personal experience that it just wasn’t true. “And that’s why you don’t want me to marry Brad?”
“It’s not that I don’t want you to marry him. I just want you to know exactly what you’re getting into.”
Marcie sighed and forced a smile. “Thank you, Lee. I appreciate how honest you’ve been with me. And I’ll certainly think about what you’ve said. Shall we rehearse the scene now? We don’t have much time left.”
Just then there was a knock on the door. Jolene was here to take them to the set.
“Uh-oh.” Lee turned to Marcie with dismay. “Sounds like we don’t have any time left. Shall I ask Dave for five more minutes?”
“No. I’m ready, if you are.” Marcie stood up and followed Lee to the door. He was a nice man, an honest man. But he’d been misled by Mercedes, and he had the wrong opinion of Brad. It wasn’t her place to correct that opinion. Not yet. But when she was Brad’s wife, she’d make a point of setting the record straight, by letting everyone know what a wonderful man Brad was!
CHAPTER 17
Rosa and Marcie sat in the lounge at the ski lodge, watching the twins take their afternoon lesson from the private instructor Brad had hired for them.
“More coffee, Miss Marcie?” Rosa picked up the silver pot the waiter had left on their table, and prepared to pour.
“I guess so.” Marcie frowned as Rosa filled her cup. “It’s not as good as yours, though.”
Rosa beamed at the compliment. “That’s because we have the beans shipped in from a gourmet shop. Mr. Brad orders them special, and . . .” Rosa leaned close to Marcie’s ear, “. . . they cost a fortune!”
“Whatever they cost, it’s worth it. Your coffee is the best I’ve ever tasted. Oh, look! Rick is doing much better this afternoon. I think he’s almost ready to go down the beginners’ slope.”
“I knew he’d be good at skiing.” Rosa smiled as she watched through the plate glass window. “He’s always been more athletic than Trish.”
Marcie sighed. “It
was the same way with Mercedes and me. When we were in school, she was the athlete, and I was the spectator. I never could hit a ball or run very fast. I was always the last one picked for the girls’ softball games.”
“Maybe you just didn’t bother to learn, because you wanted your sister to be best. Miss Mercedes always said you had plenty of natural abilities you’d never used.”
“Well . . . maybe,” Marcie conceded. “But being an athlete wasn’t one of them.”
“You looked fine this morning, when you went out on the slopes with the men. You didn’t fall down at all.”
Marcie laughed. “That’s only because Brad was holding me up on one side, and Jerry was on the other. They wouldn’t let me fall.”
“What do you think of Mr. Jerry? Do you like him?”
Marcie thought it over for a moment, and then she nodded. “Yes, I do. He’s been very nice to me, and he’s great with the twins. They told me they think he ought to get married and have kids of his own.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen.” Rosa looked very serious. “You know about Mr. Jerry, don’t you?”
“Know what?” Marcie looked puzzled.
“Mr. Jerry’s not interested in women.”
“He’s not interested in—?’ Marcie stopped as realization dawned. “Oh. I understand. Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. Miss Mercedes said so. The man who did her makeup told her. He saw Mr. Jerry at some kind of meeting.”
Marcie nodded. “Beau LeTeure. I guess it’s true then. But that doesn’t necessarily mean Jerry can’t have children. A lot of gay couples are adopting now.”
Rosa looked surprised for a moment, and then she nodded. “Why not? All children need is someone to love them. Two gay people who want to be parents are a lot better than a mother and father who don’t. Oh, look! They’re all going to the beginners’ slope.”
“Let’s just hope that Trish doesn’t break something.” Marcie gave a sympathetic smile as she spotted her niece. Trish was struggling along gamely, with the instructor on one side of her and his assistant on the other.
