by Louise Clark
Christy choked and put her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. Quinn chuckled quietly while Roy and Trevor each grinned. Ellen murmured, "That cat!"
They heard Shively say, "There, I've patted the animal. I hope that satisfies it."
"Him," Noelle said, chattily. "Stormy's a him. He's part of our family. Come on, Mary. Let's show Ms. Shively my room. I clean it up every day and I make my bed every morning. It's perfect!"
Light running footsteps sounded on the stairs going up, followed by slower, heavier adult ones.
Christy gave way to the giggles that had been consuming her. "Man, I love that kid," she said to no one in particular.
After a moment Ellen said, "She is very special."
It was amazing how very liberating laughter could be. As her giggles tailed off, Christy said, "And she likes having you here."
That made Ellen's features brighten with pleasure.
Children's footsteps, tearing down the stairs, sounded, again followed more slowly by adult ones. Noelle, accompanied by Mary, bounded into the kitchen. Mary's face was pink and she looked like she'd just had a taste of forbidden fruit. And liked it. Noelle's expression was sober, but there was that telltale twinkle in her eyes that told Christy that she was enjoying herself hugely. "Ms. Shively looked everywhere upstairs, Mom."
"Everywhere?"
Noelle nodded just as there was another thump on the stairs. This time they all heard Shively say, "Damn cat!"
Mary's eyes widened until they were as round as the "O" her mouth was making at Shively's use of a swear word.
Serves you right for poking through my wife's lingerie.
Noelle's eyes lit with amusement and she grinned. "Ms. Shively opened the drawers in the bathroom, Mom. And the ones in your bureau. She said she'd never seen so many socks. And Stormy sat in your underwear drawer when she said your stuff was totally in... inappropiate. What does inappropiate mean, Mom?"
"She looked in my panties drawer?" Christy's voice rose as outrage burned through her.
"Inappropriate underwear." That was Quinn and he sounded both amused and impressed.
Christy flushed red as Ellen said, "How dare she?!" and Shively stumbled into the kitchen. Herded there, it seemed, by the cat.
"You had no right to go through my things!" Christy said, fury making her body hot. She was so angry she wasn't even trying to be conciliatory.
"I was looking for drugs," Shively said. There was an edge of belligerence in her tone, but the expression in her eyes was wary.
Christy took a step back. "Drugs? I don't use drugs. I never have and I never will!"
The cat, who had been sitting on one of Shively's feet, now stood up on his hind legs and reached for her thigh. Stormy was a big cat, nearly twenty pounds and a good three feet long when stretched to his full length. His front paws reached nearly to Shively's pelvic area when he stood on his hind legs. In a lazy movement he dug his claws into the polyester of her pant leg and clung.
Shively freaked. "Get it off me!" she screamed as she backed up in a fruitless attempt to escape.
Stormy's claws were anchored tight. As Shively stumbled backward and the cat stayed put, there was an ominous tearing sound.
Christy dove for the cat. Angry as she was at Shively, she didn't want Stormy hurt. She knew that Frank meant only the best and that he was protecting her in the only way he could, but there were limits.
She scooped him up, disengaging his claws, as Shively started to babble. "He's a cat, Ms. Shively. He was only being friendly. How was Stormy to know you were afraid of cats?"
"That animal is a vicious beast! It needs to be put down."
Stormy wiggled in Christy's arms and she put him onto the floor where he sat, eyes on Shively.
"Don't be ridiculous," Ellen said. "You have been acting quite inappropriately—that is how you pronounce the word, Noelle, and it means unacceptable behavior—since you arrived in this house. My niece is a young woman who loves her child and will do anything to ensure she has a happy and safe life. I can see absolutely—and that is another very good word, Noelle, it means without restrictions—no reason for you to be pawing through her private drawers."
"Wow," Christy said.
Shively straightened and, torn trousers and all, launched herself into battle. "You!" She jabbed a finger at Ellen. "Have been accused of murdering a lovely young woman who was guilty of nothing but—"
"Being a drug addict and having sex in public places," Quinn finished for her.
Brought up short by his statement, Shively stared at him. "Excuse me?"
"The woman you were talking about," Quinn said mildly. "I was just filling you in on what kind of person she was. Don't get me wrong," he added as Shively opened her mouth to protest. "She didn't deserve to die. But I can't gloss over the reality of who she was when she was alive."
"A good point," Trevor said. "I have to add that I can make a good case for overzealous conduct on your part, Ms. Shively. You have no cause to go through anyone's drawers in this household. And you have no evidence, beyond unsubstantiated hearsay, that Mrs. Jamieson has ever indulged in narcotics or any other kind of mood-altering substance."
Roy, who was never one to let propriety get in the way, toasted Shively with his half-drunk glass of wine and said, "Time to go, Ms. Shively."
The cat brushed up against Shively's leg and she jumped. He looked up at her, green eyes gleaming.
"Yes," she said. "Perhaps you are right." She shot Christy a look that was hard to interpret. "I will be in touch."
Christy let her show herself out. She was still trembling with outrage and she didn't want to have to endure a private moment with the woman. She wasn't sure what she might say.
As the door slammed, Mary Petrofsky, still wide-eyed, said, "Wow, Noelle. Your family is really cool."
"I know," Noelle said, and beamed.
Chapter 29
As the sound of the door closing echoed through the house, Christy poured herself a large glass of wine.
"We're going back downstairs," Noelle said.
"Okay. I'll call you when dinner's on the table." Christy rounded the peninsula counter and sat down with the others. She took a slug of wine, then said with a sigh, "I'm going to have to wash everything in my dresser."
"Especially your lingerie," Ellen said. She shuddered dramatically, "Since the cat sat on it."
That was Stormy's idea. He likes open drawers. He just hopped in there before I could think of how to stop the old bi... witch, and stretched out. He hoped she'd rub his belly, but she didn't cooperate. She didn't have a chance to dig through that drawer, but she did do a pretty thorough search through your socks.
"Good for Stormy," Christy said as the cat jumped up onto her lap and circled, looking for a comfortable spot to curl up. "I'd rather have him sitting in my lingerie than Shively pawing through it." She scratched him behind his ears, then, when he was settled, gave him the belly rub Shively had denied him.
Stormy purred loudly. Christy drank more wine and turned to Ellen. "Thank you for defending me."
Ellen looked at her for a long moment, then she said, "We have had our differences, Christy, but you are a Jamieson. I regret some of the actions I have taken in the past. I can see now how devoted you are to Noelle." She smiled faintly. "And just how much energy you put into raising that child. You don't deserve that woman's accusations."
"Neither do you," Christy said, looking steadily at Ellen. "I apologize for letting myself be worried over what Shively might think."
Ellen waved her hand in a dismissive way. "It doesn't matter."
"We were all manipulated by a master," Christy said. "Me, Shively, Detective Patterson. She did it so beautifully that we were all taken in."
Ellen frowned. "Who are you talking about?"
"Natalie DeBolt," Quinn said. He was sitting straighter, watching Christy with bright, considering eyes. He'd figured it out too.
Christy smiled at him. "Yeah. Natalie. She pretended that she
and Ellen were lovers so the cops would think that the motive behind Brittany's killing was an affair gone wrong."
"What? Natalie? She's not gay!" Ellen said, looking shocked.
"No, she's not. Nathan DeBolt told me that early on," Quinn said. "He laughed when I suggested she might be involved with a woman. He implied she was a cougar who liked to do more than look at younger men. But there had to be a reason for Brittany's body to be found at your condo, Ellen. Sex was the easiest explanation."
"And one the police wouldn't look much beyond," Christy said. "Especially when there was no obvious link between Ellen and Brittany."
Trevor nodded. "Go for the tried-and-true. Sex, money, and revenge."
"Don't forget love," Christy said quietly. "Brittany was murdered for love."
By this time Ellen was staring at Christy as if she had started speaking in tongues. And perhaps to Ellen, she had. "Are you saying that Natalie DeBolt murdered Brittany Day and Jacob Peiling?"
Christy nodded. "I think so. That's why she was down at the police station this morning. She wasn't there because she was trying to free Aaron or keep him from being re-arrested. It was because she was the one being arrested. That's why Nathan was so lost when Quinn saw him. First his son is named as an accessory to a murder, and now his wife is charged with committing two other murders, each one cold-blooded and ruthless. It must have seemed like his world had exploded around him, poor man."
"But Natalie is my friend! Why would she choose my apartment to kill Brittany? If she did kill Brittany. I can't believe this is even possible."
From the baffled expression on her face, Ellen truly didn't understand why she had been so cruelly betrayed. A deep sense of compassion made Christy cautious as she tried to explain. "You've been friends with Natalie for a long time, haven't you?"
"Yes, years. We met at EBU when we were both coeds. I introduced her to Nathan."
"Natalie isn't from Vancouver, is she?"
Ellen was frowning now. "No, she's from the Cariboo. The Williams Lake area. Why?"
"So she didn't come from money."
"No. Her father worked on a ranch in the area and her mother was a librarian in town. What are you getting at, Christy?"
Christy sighed. "Your friendship was important to Natalie, so she showed you the best of herself. You were someone who moved in the right circles, you could introduce her to the right people. She wasn't going to jeopardize your friendship by showing you her ugly side."
Ellen drew herself up, becoming every inch a Jamieson. "I refuse to accept this!"
Christy sighed again and rubbed the back of her neck. She knew it would be difficult to convince Ellen that the friend she'd trusted all her adult life had turned on her. She was about to try again, when Quinn said, "There is only one person Natalie cares more for than herself. Aaron."
"It's true she doted on the boy, but—"
"I don't think she knew about Aaron's involvement in Frank's death," Quinn continued, ignoring Ellen's interruption. "At least, not initially. By the time Aaron needed someone to vouch for him, a few months had passed. Who would be surprised if Brittany or Cara LaLonde came forward? He was regularly seen with both women, and had been for months. He just had to set it up and he'd be a free man. Without an alibi for the night in question, though, the evidence against him was certain to bring a conviction when he was brought to trial."
With a sigh, Christy said, "I agree with Quinn. A few days before Brittany came forward, she and Natalie visited Aaron in jail. I think Natalie had already been pushing her to provide Aaron with the alibi and the visit that day cinched the deal."
Ellen was shaking her head. Christy could see she wasn't buying any of this. "Natalie would not participate in such a conspiracy."
She's not listening, Frank said with a yawn. The best way to deal with Aunt Ellen when she's like this is to give it up and move on.
Roy shifted in his seat and Trevor frowned. Christy opened her mouth to disagree, but at that moment Ellen held up her hand. The imperious interruption was probably a good thing, since Christy had been about to reply to a comment Ellen hadn't even heard.
"Perhaps if you tell me more of the story I will be able to understand your reasoning," Ellen said, very much on her dignity. "What about this girl, Brittany Day? Why would she agree to be involved in this reprehensible scheme?"
"She was an addict," Quinn said. "Aaron got her addicted to coke—"
"Or maybe she was already addicted before she met Aaron," Roy said, pouring soothing waters.
Quinn shot a look at his father, eyebrows raised. Then he said, "Could be. It doesn't really matter who got her hooked, but that she was. Aaron was her main supplier, but with Aaron in jail, she needed a new source."
Trevor leaned forward. "Natalie?"
Quinn nodded. "I think Aaron told his mother who he got his stuff from and she became the conduit who supplied Brittany. Natalie threatened to turn off the tap if Brittany didn't provide an alibi for Aaron. So she did."
"And then she got cold feet," Christy said, shaking her head.
"With the help of Lorne Cossi." A muscle jumped in Quinn's jaw.
Christy grimaced. Her risky interview with Lorne Cossi was still something of a sore spot for Quinn. "Yeah. Lorne Cossi is not a nice person."
"Lorne Cossi? One of Jacob Peiling's grad students?" Ellen demanded. "What has he to do with this?"
"Lorne likes to coerce women into having sex with him," Christy said. "Usually he sticks to vulnerable undergrads, but he and Brittany shared an office and I think she was a bit of a challenge for him. He went hunting around for her weakness and he found it."
"Drugs," Roy said, shaking his head. "So he supplied her too?"
"No, but he knew that she was addicted and that she was neglecting her EBU work in favor of partying with Aaron. He threatened to go to Peiling if she didn't have sex with him."
"Not only Peiling, but her parents too," Quinn added.
"Poor girl," Ellen said. There was compassion in her voice and expression.
Christy nodded. "Yeah. Her money didn't matter to Aaron or Natalie or Lorne Cossi. There was no easy way out for her."
"So how did Cossi influence Brittany's decision to change her testimony?" Roy asked.
"He knew the alibi she'd provided Aaron was false, because she was having sex with him when Aaron was in the alleyway pushing Frank into the trunk of a car. Brittany had a choice. She could let the alibi stand and be blackmailed by Lorne Cossi for the rest of her life. Or she could revoke it now and take her chances with the legal system." Quinn shrugged. "She decided on the law."
"I think she may have felt guilty about lying, too," Christy said. She looked at her wineglass. "From the way her father described her, she sounded like a decent person who had wandered off the path. I'd like to think that she wanted to come back to where she ought to be."
"So she tells Natalie she wants to retract, what then?" Roy asked.
"I don't think she did tell Natalie," Quinn said. "I think she told Aaron. She went to see him the afternoon before she died. The alibi was still being investigated then, and if she pulled it, he would never be released. I think he told his mother when she visited him later that day and she handled it."
"She may have already had concerns," Trevor remarked. "Wasn't it Natalie who insisted Brittany swear an affidavit? Once that was done it didn't matter if Brittany was dead. The alibi would stand."
"And she couldn't retract it," Roy said with enthusiasm. "This is fascinating. Natalie must have been obsessed with getting Aaron released."
"I often thought he was the love of her life," Ellen said. "Until Christy exposed his participation in Frank's death, I have to admit I was charmed by him. I never saw his nasty side." She looked around the table. "I knew Natalie and Nathan were having problems. She was always respectful when they were out together, but I sometimes thought that perhaps she saw him more as a meal ticket than a husband." She paused, then lifted her chin. "But none of this explains
why you think she deliberately chose to implicate me by leaving Brittany's body on my terrace?"
"You were her cat's-paw," Quinn said. "She needed to pin the murder on somebody. Who better than a Jamieson?"
"But—" Ellen shook her head. "We were friends. Longtime friends. I trusted her."
"Which may have been one of the reasons she chose your apartment. She could gain access easily. The super and your housekeeper knew her and wouldn't remember if they saw her around. They'd just think that she had come to visit and you weren't home to receive her. I think at some point she must have made a copy of your door key. When she decided Brittany had to go, she made use of it."
Christy nodded at Quinn's statement, then added, "She knew the layout of your suite. Where the furniture was. Where your bedroom was. Where she could stash Brittany's body and get away successfully."
"Surely she didn't kill Brittany elsewhere and drag her body onto my terrace!"
"No," Christy said. "She drugged her. Brittany was high when Natalie came to your apartment. That's why you heard the noise in your hallway. Brittany was so stoned that she couldn't walk straight. It wasn't yet dawn when Natalie let them in. Brittany didn't know there was a console table just inside the door and she stumbled into it in the dark. She hit the mirror above and it fell, causing the crash. Natalie hustled her out onto the terrace and whacked her with a plant pot to keep her quiet."
"Then Natalie hid behind the lounger and hoped you wouldn't come outside and inspect," Roy said. He shook his head. There was a look of admiration on his face. "Ballsy."
"It was November," Quinn pointed out. "The weather had turned. How many people go out onto their decks once summer is over?"
"True." A faraway look entered Roy's eyes. "Natalie must have freaked when Ellen got dressed and left. I bet she was hoping that she'd be able to do the deed and get out while Ellen was still asleep."
"Leaving me alone in my apartment with a body," Ellen said with a shudder.
"And no alibi for the time of the murder," Christy said. "Instead you were gone before she was and here in Burnaby long before Brittany was found."
