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Evil in the First House: A Starlight Detective Agency (Starlight Detective Agency Mysteries Book 3)

Page 7

by Mitchell Scott Lewis


  “I’ve been sprucing it up a bit.”

  They sat at the counter in the center island as Catherine poured two cups of pre-made brew. “How about a slice of pie? I’ve got a fresh organic cherry I just picked up from the farmer’s market.”

  “You know I’ve never been able to turn down cherry pie.”

  She cut two slices and put them on small plates, then sat. “How have you really been, David?”

  He ate a bite, and then sipped his coffee. “Okay. It’s been a busy summer.”

  “I know. The rock ’n’ roll murder case must have been exhausting.” She took a bite of pie. “What are you working on now?”

  He told her about Dr. Williamson, the twins, and the million dollars.

  “Wow, that’s some story.” She sipped her coffee and looked at him intently. “This must have been a very difficult case for you, dealing with the potential death of his son. I’m sure it brought up a lot of things.”

  He nodded. “Yes, I think it’s made me revisit Robert’s death more than I realized.”

  “Is that why you took it? It certainly wasn’t for the money.”

  He ate more of the pie. “I suppose so. I haven’t really thought it all out yet. But, no, the money wasn’t the motivation.”

  She nodded. “Is that why you wanted to come up?”

  He shrugged. “I always try to come up this time of year to visit him.”

  Melinda came down the stairs and entered the kitchen. She was dressed in blue shorts and a matching shirt. She walked over to the counter, took a cup, and poured herself some coffee from the pot. “Should we go soon? I’d like to be there while there’s still daylight.”

  Catherine finished her coffee and put the cup in the sink. “Let me just get a jacket.” She went upstairs and returned shortly wearing a stylish brown cloth jacket with wide lapels and a multitude of seemingly useless pockets and zippers. “I’m ready when you are.”

  Andy was outside waiting for Lowell’s instructions as they walked out of the house.

  “Boss, you want me to drive you?”

  Lowell shook his head. “No, I think we’ll walk. In fact, you’re off the clock now. If I need you I’ll call. Please make yourself at home.”

  He nodded. “I’m going to stay with my cousin over in Phoenicia, a few minutes away. Let me know if you need me. I can be here in no time.” He got in the limo and took off.

  The family walked silently the mile or so to the outskirts of town, lost in their own thoughts.

  Chapter Thirteen

  There was a slight chill in the air as they stood by the grave. Nobody said a word. There wasn’t anything to say. Robert’s grave was well kept; Catherine saw to that. She put fresh flowers there every week and paid extra for a caretaker to trim the grass and keep an eye on things. It was on a small rise overlooking the town. Their heads were bent in private solemn contemplation.

  Lowell glanced up and noticed a man leaning against a tree watching them. There was something amiss in the man’s manner that bothered Lowell. He looked over at his family, somber and introverted, his feelings of protectiveness rising to the surface. His hand automatically went to his cell phone ready to text Andy if anything was wrong. When he looked back, the man was gone. He shrugged. Must be getting paranoid, he thought.

  As they stood there silently, Lowell reached out his hand to Catherine. At first she shook her head, not bothering to wipe the tears running freely down her face. She turned away from him and looked off toward the sunset. But then without turning back she put her hand out and he took it. They stood like that for a few moments, and then Catherine turned her head toward him. They hugged tightly as if letting go would tear apart the universe. They hugged as one would a sister or a long-lost friend.

  Melinda looked up and smiled through her tears. Then she moved off for a walk into town. David and Catherine went back to the house and sat on the front porch for cocktails. The mood was subdued, but not depressed. The tears at the graveside had washed away much of the sadness, leaving a peaceful acceptance in its wake.

  Melinda came back shortly and changed into jeans and a flannel shirt tied off at the bottom, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was sitting on the front porch swing-couch looking about sixteen. “I ran into Zack today at the bookstore.”

  “Oh? How’s he doing?” Catherine sipped her white wine on the rocks.

  “Fine. He looks good. Says he’s got a good job with a local computer company. Seems to have put his stuff in order. We’re having dinner tonight.”

  “Oh?”

  “Oh, Mom, it’s Zack. If anything was going to happen it would have happened long ago. He’s like a cousin. I just thought you two could use an evening alone. We’ll have all day together tomorrow. Dad, you don’t have to be back too early, do you?”

  “No. I’ve got Mort and Sarah holding down the fort. And there’s little I can do on Sunday anyway.” He sipped his Spatan beer. “I won’t hear from Williamson until next week. Even Monday morning would be okay.” He looked at Catherine. “If you want the company.”

  “We’ll see. Let’s get through dinner first.” Catherine looked at Melinda. “Aren’t you going to change?”

  “Why? This is how I always dress with Zack.”

  “Maybe that’s why nothing ever happened between you.”

  “Mom!”

  ***

  At 7:30 Zack swung by and picked up Melinda. He was also dressed in jeans, with a leather jacket over a plaid shirt.

  As they drove away, Catherine turned to David. “They look like an ad for the Grand Ole Opry.” She sighed. “I guess Melinda’s right. They are more like cousins.”

  Catherine and David walked to the Farmhouse Restaurant on the edge of town and sat at a table next to the window. There was a magnificent view into a small valley with majestic pines and oaks reaching for the heavens, serene and everlasting, so it seemed.

  “I always loved this view.” Lowell sipped his Sauvignon blanc. He usually drank what Catherine was drinking when they went out.

  “The area’s changing.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “More construction everywhere you look and the fear of this stupid fracking for gas has most of the locals up in arms.”

  Lowell shook his head. “Such short-sighted fools. How can you threaten your very environment for a few bucks and a temporary drop in energy prices?”

  They both looked out the window, the scene now seeming so much more fragile, perhaps not everlasting after all.

  “Do you think she’ll ever find someone?”

  “Melinda? Her chart certainly gives her plenty of opportunity to find a mate. It’s whether she wants one or not.”

  “You spend much more time with her than I do. What do you think? Is she marriage material? God knows she’s pretty enough.”

  “She was dating someone. I think his name was Peter?”

  “David, that was almost two years ago.”

  “Really? Doesn’t seem so long ago.”

  “It was around the time when that judge got murdered and Melinda brought you that bartender as a client. What ever happened to her?”

  “She works at a pet store and seems to be doing quite nicely. I can’t believe you know that much about my cases.”

  “I keep pretty good tabs on you.” She sipped her wine. “I understand you spent some time with Vivian Younger.” She smirked. “What was that like?”

  David took a piece of bread and hurriedly buttered it, then shoved it in his mouth. He needed a moment to think. His brief fling with Vivian Younger wasn’t worth confessing to Catherine, even though they were no longer married, but he didn’t like lying to her. He chewed, slowly, took a sip of water, and then a sip of wine.

  “Spending time with her made me realize just how much I missed you.”

  She nodded and let it go.


  Dinner was good, homey-comfort food. They finished the wine and ordered another bottle. When the table was cleared he sipped his wine and looked into Catherine’s beautiful eyes. “You look well.”

  “So do you.”

  “Well, I don’t know how. I’m too busy to even take care of myself properly.” He patted his paunch. “I could really use a short vacation, that’s for sure. Remember the last time we went away this time of year?”

  She twirled her glass, the ice banging against the sides. “Of course. Fire Island.”

  He laughed. “We were like two kids. I don’t think we’d been away for more than a year at that time. Money was very tight.”

  “Yes, it was right before you started to make your fortune in the oil deal.”

  He sipped his drink. “It was wonderful. And…so romantic. I had a great time.”

  She smiled, but looked at her glass, not at him.

  He looked out the window in silence.

  She looked at David. “That was a wonderful few days.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  He took her hand across the dinner table. “You’ve always been so lovely to me. You’re the one true love of my life.”

  She smiled. Then the smile faded and she suddenly pulled her hand back. “Oh no you don’t. Attitudes and platitudes,” she sipped her wine, “and platypuses. You do this to me every time—you pull me back in. Damn you!” She emptied her glass and reached for the bottle.

  Lowell watched silently. She was stepping over the line. He’d seen it a few times before.

  The waiter ran over and grabbed the bottle first. “Allow me, ma’am.” He started to pour.

  Lowell put his hand up. “A double espresso, please.”

  He looked over at Catherine. She grimaced. Then nodded.

  “Make that two double espressos,” he said.

  After dinner they walked around town, passing the playhouse theatre and houses more than a century old.

  She took his arm. “You know, coffee doesn’t sober you up. That’s a fallacy. It just makes you an awake drunk.”

  “I’m still in love with you.”

  “David, you have to stop. It’s not going to work. We’re just so…we’ve changed too much.”

  There was a chill in the air. She pulled the collar up around her neck, and then took his arm again. “You know I still love you. I always will. You’re the man in my life, no matter how we describe it. But right now I just can’t see us…you know.”

  They walked in silence through the underbrush, kicking up the few early fallen leaves as they went.

  He wanted to pull his collar up as well, but was afraid to let go of her arm. “We must have walked this path a thousand times through the years.”

  “Um hmm.”

  “Do you remember that time Melinda fell out of the tree? It was somewhere right around here.”

  She held on tighter. “Oh sure. That’s when she broke her arm. What a to-do that was!”

  He laughed. “What was she, about eleven?”

  “That’s right. She had just had a birthday party that week. She was always such a tomboy.”

  “I remember Robert came screaming up to the house, he was sure she was…” He stopped.

  Catherine looked over at him. “It’s okay to say it, David. He was sure she was dead. If we’re ever going to get past this we have to face it in all of its subtlety. When someone close leaves you forever the feelings seem to never let go completely.” She stopped walking and looked at him. “Losing Robert was such a terrible time. I never thought I’d be able to feel again or enjoy life. But I do.”

  David was silent.

  She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to blame you, really I didn’t. I guess I just had to blame someone. And God is just too convenient a scapegoat.”

  “What could I have done?”

  “You’ve helped people in all areas of their lives. You’ve predicted dozens of world events, prevented your clients from making the worst mistakes of their lives. Why couldn’t you have done the same for your son?”

  “I tried, but he wouldn’t listen.” They had been over this so many times, and each time he hoped would be the last. “Robert never took to astrology the way Melinda did. He wasn’t so much a non-believer, he just ignored it. It was his nature to be rebellious, and maybe that was just another way of displaying it.” He took his arm back and turned his collar up. They walked again, disconnected. “I knew the transits and progressions Robert was facing and warned him repeatedly to avoid dangerous situations. But it’s exactly under such aspects that one would find himself in the position he did. He saved the life of the bodega owner.”

  She nodded. “At the cost of his own.”

  “Don’t you know that I would gladly give my own life in return for his?”

  The tears started to fall from her eyes. She nodded. “Yes, I do know.”

  She took his arm again and held on so tightly it hurt. But it was a good hurt. She took out a tissue from her coat pocket and dabbed at her eyes, then shook a little and regained control. They walked for another half hour. The effects of the wine began to wane. “Let’s go home and build a fire.”

  They walked back to the dark house. As they reached the porch Lowell thought he heard footsteps behind them. He turned quickly, just catching the glimpse of someone scurrying into the woods. Probably some teenagers looking for a make-out spot. He thought. But for some reason it left him feeling uneasy.

  Lowell went in first and turned on the porch light. “I guess Melinda’s still on her date.”

  “Are you being a jealous father?” Catherine chuckled.

  “No. Actually I’m glad she’s out. I don’t think she dates much.”

  “You see her all the time, don’t you know?”

  He shook his head. “We don’t discuss certain things.”

  “Why David Lowell, you’ve become such a prude. Whatever happened to the fiery, sizzling lover who used to take me into these very same woods and make love to me under the stars?”

  “Please, Catherine, the chipmunks are blushing.”

  They went into the living room, a large space with very high ceilings and exposed wooden beams. The house was built in the early twentieth century and had an old, solid feeling about it, a structure from a different era, before houses were made of metal and looked like they belonged in a Picasso painting.

  The fireplace was huge and had originally been used to heat this part of the house before the oil furnace was installed. David took some kindling and laid it across the base of the fireplace. Then he took four large logs and arranged them in such a way as to maximize the starter fire of the kindling and make sure they all caught the blaze. There was always at least a cord of wood stacked in the backyard, and before he settled down, David made several trips to ensure enough wood to last the evening.

  They sat on the floor and watched as the wood crackled and sang. “Do you think we should have a nightcap?”

  Catherine thought for a moment. “I’m pretty sober now. I think a cognac wouldn’t hurt, do you?”

  He went to the bar to the left of the fireplace, took two snifters, and poured them each a Remy. Then he sat back down on the floor and handed one to Catherine.

  They clicked their glasses and each took a sip. The hot liquid drizzling down his throat had a relaxing, soothing effect.

  “You know,” he said, “I almost never drink this stuff. I only seem to like cognac by a blazing fire. They seem to go together in some strange way.”

  She took a sip and looked at her ex-husband, the firelight dancing a minuet behind him. There was something so right about this man, and yet…She sighed. Then took another sip. She was careful, didn’t want to get sloppy. She had been drinking quite a bit lately and was a little concerned about it. She didn’t want this to turn into a fight, as it
had the last time they were together. “David,” he turned toward her. “David I…”

  “What is it, Catherine?”

  “Why don’t you stay until Monday morning?”

  “Okay.”

  She sipped her Remy. “In the guest room.”

  He sighed. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

  Melinda got home about midnight and found her parents asleep under a blue blanket, in front of a dying fire. Rather than wake them, she built the fire up again, made sure it was secured behind the metal guard, and went to sleep.

  ***

  They all had breakfast together the next morning and spent the day meandering through town. Zack joined them for lunch at a local diner and they reminisced. The evening was a quiet dinner at home just for the family. They built another fire and played Clue. David won.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The ride home was subdued and thoughtful. Melinda fell asleep. When they got on the New York State Thruway, Andy buzzed.

  Lowell was in a quiet funk. He picked up the car phone. “What’s up?”

  “I think we’ve got a tail.”

  Lowell perked up. “Really?”

  “I don’t know. Let me watch ’em for a few minutes.”

  Lowell lowered the partition window between the front and back of the limo so he could talk to Andy directly. “Which car?”

  Andy pulled into the right lane and slowed the limo down. He pointed to a blue sedan as it passed them on the left. “I noticed it several times in Woodstock, and they left just as we did.”

  They watched as the car put on its blinker and pulled into their lane a few cars ahead of them, getting off the highway at the next exit. They couldn’t see the license plate.

  Andy shrugged. “I guess I was wrong.”

  “Maybe, but he may have realized he was made and got off to avoid suspicion. But who would be following us?”

 

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