Deadly Diaries
Page 5
Greg stayed by Maggie’s side through the last well-wisher and gently drew her away. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s time to go to the reception.”
Maggie’s limbs hung heavy as she trudged toward the doors. “I feel like I’ve been up for days. I wish I could go straight home and forget facing all these people again.”
Greg tucked her hand under his arm and led her outside into the bright sunshine. Most had already left, but a few people stood on the sidewalk talking. He quickened his steps as he led her onto the grass to avoid them, and she kept her gaze down, purposely not making eye contact. “It won’t be too long,” he whispered. “Robin’s there already. She’ll have fed everyone, and by the time you get there, it’ll be half over.”
Maggie tried to smile. “Yeah, the one thing that drove me crazy when I worked with her was how she organizes everybody. But it’s what makes her great, you know?”
“Yeah. Robin shines in a crisis.” He guided her through the almost empty parking lot to his car. “I don’t see your mom or Allie. Did they leave already?”
“They went with George. It’s funny how Mom still gets along with Allie’s dad. She hates mine.” Greg opened the door for her, and she waited for him to go around and get in before continuing. “Did you notice how she stood next to me receiving condolences? She barely tolerated Aunt Esther, she was always jealous.”
Greg remained silent.
Maggie tucked her hair behind her ears. “It was to stop me from saying any more bad stuff about her. I shouldn’t have said what I did in the eulogy. Dad feels guilty, and Mom wants to pretend we were the perfect family. But the truth is, I wouldn’t have made it without my aunt. I don’t know what I would have become if she hadn’t been there, and I’m tired of pretending.”
He reached over and patted her knee. “You spoke from the heart, honey, and it was the truth.”
“Yeah, but remember what Aunt Esther used to say?” She imitated her voice. “‘Maggie, darling, you can tell the truth without sharing everything you know.’”
Greg chuckled, which made her smile. She stared out the side window, remembering her aunt’s face when she’d said it. “I never told her how much she meant to me.” Her voice dropped close to a whisper. She cleared her throat. “I hope she knew how I felt.”
Greg stopped at a light and tapped her hand. He waited for her to look at him. “I’m sure she knew. You guys were close. Anyone could see it. Besides, she surely knows now.”
“She’s in heaven, isn’t she?” Maggie twisted a soggy tissue in her hands. “I mean really in heaven, not just what you say to people to make them feel better. If anyone deserves to go to heaven, it’s her.”
“Yes, I believe she’s in heaven,” he said. “But not because she was good, or because she deserved it. She believed in Christ, and that’s what got her into heaven.” The light changed to green, and Greg refocused on the road as he moved into the intersection. “He’s also why she did the charity stuff. She loved God so much it spilled out all over the place. Your aunt was an exceptional person.”
Maggie sniffled but stayed silent.
“You remind me of her,” he said.
“What? How do you mean? I’m nothing like her. She was giving and selfless. I am selfish and inconsiderate.” Maggie shifted in her seat. “I would love to be like her, but…I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. You’re going to be just like her. I can tell.”
Maggie remained silent, but a battle raged inside. Should she speak up? He needed to understand now, before it was too late. If he’d asked her to marry him thinking she was like Aunt Esther, then when he found out the truth, he would leave, just like her dad. She opened her mouth, but he was already outside, halfway around the car.
He opened her door. “This is as close as I could get. It looks like the whole county is here.” He held his hand out to help her stand.
Cars bordered both sides of the tree-lined road, and as they walked around the block, there wasn’t an open space along Esther’s entire street. Maggie’s knees shook as she stumbled up the steps and stopped on the porch. The door was open, and the clink of dishes and the low hum of people reminiscing drifted through the screen. She tightened her grip on Greg’s elbow, took a deep breath, and walked through.
Inside, food was piled high on the dining table, and beyond the propped-open kitchen door, Robin bustled about, readying even more. Maria flitted around with a coffeepot, and Libby filled pitchers with punch and iced tea.
Maggie crossed to the food-laden table, stopping to receive condolences along the way. Her stomach quivered at the smell of food. After placing a few items on her plate to forestall any appetite questions, she moved back into the living room.
Monica Tate approached on Edward Blake’s arm. She appeared tiny next to his athletic frame.
“Maggie, what a beautiful speech you gave,” Monica gushed. “You described your aunt so perfectly it made me cry.”
Maggie gulped at the sudden lump in her throat. “Thank you, Mrs. Tate. I appreciate it. And, Edward, thank you for coming.”
“Esther was a good friend.” He gave her a quick hug and returned to Monica’s side. “You know, she had a mean backhand. She and Monica played doubles with Jonathan and me. I used to dread it when I saw the ball go to her left side. One day, she nearly took my head off.”
“It’s because you’re old, pops.” Blake’s son, Jonathan, joined them and bent to kiss his grandmother’s cheek. Straightening, he winked. “Just kidding, Dad. She was good. She gave me a run for my money a few times.”
Maggie laughed, and it felt good. “Wow, that’s saying something, since you’re the club pro.”
“I should know better, right? But her strategy would be to start me running all over the court. I knew she was doing it, but I was helpless to stop her before I was hoofing it from one side to the other. Honestly, she was one of my best students. She had a gift for the sport.”
As the conversation lulled, Libby joined them. “Talking about tennis, Jonathan, I was sorry to hear about your doubles partner. How did it happen?”
His smile faded. “It was an accident. Stephanie fell in her apartment and hit her head on the hearth.”
“How awful. How are you holding up?”
“I’m OK.” He glanced at her hardly touched plate. “Let me get you some punch.” He lurched in the direction of the kitchen.
Libby placed her half-full glass on the nearest table. “I’m so sorry. I stuck my foot in it this time. It must be hard for him.”
Mrs. Tate’s gaze tracked her grandson’s progress. “It’s OK, Libby. He’s a strong young man, and he’ll be fine.” She patted Edward’s hand. “Edward was pretty tough when my daughter died, and Jonathan is the same. Did you know he and Stephanie were engaged?”
Red suffused Libby’s face. “I knew they were doubles partners, but I had no idea they were so close. I feel horrible.” She looked away, and tears sparkled in her mascara-laden lashes, threatening to spill over.
Maggie stood frozen, unable to think of anything to help her friend.
Edward leaned forward and patted Libby’s shoulder. “No need to feel bad. You couldn’t have known. They hadn’t made the engagement public yet.” He stepped back, his eyes mournful. “Jonathan was out of town, so he didn’t find out for a couple days. Stephanie had told him once she didn’t want a funeral, and since she didn’t have any family, he took care of everything.”
An awkward silence stretched between them, and Maggie wanted to say something to fill it. But again, nothing came.
“Maggie, I didn’t know Esther kept a diary.” Monica changed the subject. “Had she always done it?”
Maggie smiled her gratitude. “I remember her writing in diaries since I was a child, but I didn’t realize how many there were. I found years of them in her bookcase.”
“Have you had a chance to go through them yet?” Edward asked.
“No, I’ve just skimmed the surface. But I can’t wait. It’s almost like
having her with me again. Plus, she led such an interesting life. I’m enjoying reading about it.”
Maggie shoved some of the finger food around on her plate. “By the way, I’m glad I got a chance to talk to you, Edward. I finished the designs for the first six show homes in the Woodland series. I’d like to get your feedback before I finish the rest.”
With a promise to meet for lunch the next day, she moved on. Esther’s best friends waited a few feet away. Carla gripped her hand. “I can’t believe she’s gone,” she said. “We were together just last week. We all went to Lindy’s for lunch, the day that woman died, wasn’t it, Ginger? Wasn’t it a Tuesday?” Her cheeks grew pink. “I couldn’t help but overhear.”
And you made it impossible not to, didn’t you? Maggie shouldn’t have such uncharitable thoughts. But the Tate family had been important members of the community for decades, and Carla was a notorious snoop.
Their voices faded to a whir, and Lindy’s Tea Room swirled into focus.
“Maggie, darling, let’s buy you a pair of shoes to go with your new coat, and then we’ll show them off at Lindy’s. How would that be?”
Maggie had felt so smart in her pretty blue coat and black patent leather shoes as she and her aunt sipped tea.
Greg touched her arm. “Is everything OK, sweetheart?”
Coming back to the present, she nodded. Across the room, George started toward them.
Carla shuffled to let him through.
“Maggie, I’m so sorry. Are you OK? Is there anything I can do?” George grasped her hand and then drew her into a side hug, careful not to spill her plate.
Of all the men her mother had dated, Maggie thought she’d been happiest with him. She wondered what happened. “Thanks. I’m fine.”
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Maggie smiled, glad to be rescued from Aunt Esther’s friends. “Sure. Would you ladies excuse us?”
Ruth nodded, and Carla gawked as they moved away.
Greg shook hands with George and reached for her plate. “I’ll take this if you’re done.”
She relinquished it, and he left them alone.
“Is it OK if Allie stays with you?” George got right to the point. “I can get her a hotel room if it’s inconvenient.”
“Of course, she can stay with me. Don’t even consider a hotel.”
He smiled, and relief loosened the taut lines on his forehead. “Thanks. I talked to the police, and it seems they’re more interested in this kid she’s been hanging around with, Cameron Hayes, than they are in Allie. But she won’t give him up. I tried to make her, but she insists she doesn’t know where he is. Maybe she doesn’t. I don’t know.” He sighed. “The thing is, I have to return to Iran. I’d like to take her with me, but she won’t go, even if the police let her. She keeps reminding me she’s eighteen and doesn’t have to do what I say. It’s very frustrating.”
Maggie smiled. “I can imagine. I was like that at her age. They say it passes.”
George laughed. “I shouldn’t complain. She’s been an exemplary daughter. It’s just…we used to be so close.” His eyes lost their sparkle. “I don’t know what happened. I guess I travel too much.” His face reddened. “Sorry, you don’t want to hear that. Anyway, I know she’ll change her mind if I don’t push it. She’ll do the right thing. She always does. In the meantime, she’ll be safe with you.” He gave her his card. “Call my assistant if you need anything, and she can get you whatever you need.”
He started to say something else but shook his head and moved away. Maggie tucked his card into her purse as Greg stepped up beside her.
“Everything OK?”
She nodded. “Yeah. He just thanked me for keeping Allie and gave me his assistant’s number if I need anything.”
“He’s not staying?”
“No, he has to get back to Iran. She’ll be fine with me. I’m glad for the opportunity to get to know her again.”
They traveled from group to group until the last few guests said good-bye and the room emptied.
“You look exhausted.” Robin touched her hand. “Are you staying here tonight?”
“No, my car’s at home, and I’ll need it tomorrow. I have an appointment with Edward concerning the Star Lake designs.”
“Wow, I forgot. You must be very excited.” Wistfulness edged Robin’s smile. “It almost makes me want to go back to work.”
“If you ever want to be partners again, just let me know. We can work something out.”
“Naw. I like being a stay-at-home mom, but sometimes I miss the creativeness of the old life, you know?”
Maggie didn’t know, but she could imagine. In fact, she often wondered how Robin could go from a dead run to what seemed like a full stop. But when she considered it, running after a baby had to be just as busy. It wasn’t something she thought much about, which was a good thing since she wasn’t married yet.
~*~
The next morning, Maggie finished the remaining touches to her design boards and slipped them into her portfolio. She hoped Edward would like them. The opportunity was such a great one. Imagine having all the Blake properties to design. She would still be able to do the small remodel jobs she loved, but she’d have the security of steady work. And if he liked her designs, maybe he’d give her a free hand.
He never promised them all, she reminded herself, but the excitement wouldn’t leave. She rehearsed her presentation as she backed out of her driveway. Should she sell herself as a designer or let the designs speak for themselves? She still had no idea what she was going to say, but she prayed it would go smoothly, and turned in the restaurant’s direction.
~*~
He waited until he was sure she wasn’t coming back and then inched past her house. These older neighborhoods were easy. As long as the windows hadn’t been replaced, he could slide his knife in and catch the latch. Or he could jimmy the French doors in the back. He hoped to not have to break a window. No evidence could be left behind—she could never know he was here.
His vehicle hugged the curb at the end of the street, and he circled back on foot through the alley until he read her address on the garage behind her house. He crept through the back gate into the yard. A window stood open, a perfect invitation for him to enter. He reached for the small screwdriver he brought with him to remove the screen. Sharp barking drew him up short, his heart pounding.
Oh, yeah, she had a dog. A small one. The jerky in his pocket should do the trick. He fumbled for it. If not, he could shut it into another room. He was good with dogs, even if he’d never been allowed to have one. He slipped closer to the house and stopped. The canine might not deter him, but what he saw did—someone, a woman, walked past the window. He swore under his breath and backed away. Had she seen him?
“Honey, be quiet!” The voice drifted across the yard.
He held his breath and tiptoed to the fence, easing the gate open. He’d have to find another way.
6
Maggie arrived at the Chateau right on time. Beautiful chandeliers sprinkled warm light on fine china, and soft music whispered through the air, adding to the relaxed elegance. Edward drew out a chair for her at a round table in the corner where she could prop her portfolio against the wall. The crystal glasses shimmered when she sat, being careful to tuck the linen tablecloth under so she wouldn’t yank it off when she rose to show him the designs.
A vision of herself, tablecloth tucked into her skirt, and an entire table full of food in Edward’s lap made her giggle. This was not the time for mindless frivolity, but the laughter threatened to bubble to the surface. Better concentrate on the menu. The food was so fancy, she hardly recognized anything. A waiter walked to their table, and choosing a salad with chicken seemed like a safe bet. Edward ordered steak, and they engaged in small talk.
He slid his napkin out of the ring and unfolded it in his lap. “Have you heard anything from the police?”
“Not yet.” Maggie tried to copy his casual manner, unfolding
her napkin. “But the strongest theory seems to be burglary.”
He took a sip from his water glass. “Are there other theories?”
She waited while the waiter placed her salad and Edward’s steak in front of them and left. “I don’t see how there could be,” she said. “No one would want to hurt Aunt Esther. Burglary is the only reasonable explanation.”
He nodded. “Did I hear your sister’s boyfriend might be a suspect?”
Good grief, was there anything in this town he didn’t know? Considering how powerful he was, probably not.
“So I hear, but I haven’t met him. I do know Allie would never have hurt Aunt Esther. She loved her as much as I did.”
Compassion softened his gaze as he changed the subject. “What made you decide to become an interior designer?”
Was this more small talk or part of the interview? “When I was younger, I constantly changed my room around, trying new colors and accessories. Aunt Esther let me decorate however I wanted, so I experimented.”
Edward smiled and nodded but kept silent as though he wanted more.
Must be part of the interview. “I went to college for marketing, expecting to get a job in advertising, but I kept drawing out rooms instead of writing ad copy. I changed my degree to Interior Design, and I met Robin at school. We decided to start Sunshine Interiors together. When Robin chose to become a stay-at-home mom, Aunt Esther helped me buy her out.” She laughed. “And that’s my story. Anyway, what about you? Did you always want to be a builder?”
Edward had eaten most of his steak while she’d been talking, leaving a small hunk on his plate. “Not at first.” He sliced off a piece. “I started working for a builder to pay my way through business college. I found I liked the work more than I liked sitting behind a desk, so I quit school.” He popped the steak in his mouth and talked around it. “I built a house for myself at night, while working my other job during the day. I moved in as soon as I could to help with expenses, and when I finished, a realtor friend said he could sell it for a profit. He did, and I started looking for another place to build. The business took off from there.” A faraway look glazed his eyes. “Someday Jonathan will inherit it, and his son after him.” He blinked and forked in another piece. “That is if I can get him to give up this tennis nonsense.”