Good Deed Bad Deed : A Novel Mystery

by Marcia Morgan

  “From the story they told, they were thrown into the deep water, relationship-wise. Their first meeting ended in an all night vigil in a hotel room, with her taking responsibility for his wellbeing. That says a lot about her. And they’ve stuck together through what’s happened so far. I’d say they seem well on their way to ‘something.’ We’ll just have to wait it out. But I do agree with you. There’s a connection between them, yet I think at this point it’s all in their heads—neither one has taken the first step as yet. It should be Ben.”

  “But sometimes men are blind to these things, or they wait too long. I don’t want to let that happen. He deserves some happiness after what Valerie put him through. He stayed too long, put up with too much. Guess I have to admit I was proud of him though. We raised him to take marriage seriously. A lot of good it did him.”

  “Now Paris, let us not go back there. Let’s look ahead. We’ll get this whole mess sorted out and then sit back and let nature take its course—and hope for the best. I like her too, so far.”

  “I just realized—with everything that happened today I forgot to call Ben. Now I’m nervous.”

  “If you can’t wait, call him on your mobile. Then you can try to enjoy the rest of the ride,” he said, his voice slightly impatient, but tempered with affection.

  Paris reached for the phone in her briefcase. Her hand brushed against the file she had decided to bring with her at the last minute. She wanted to read it all again. There was something stirring in the back of her mind, but she couldn’t put a finger on it. There was a coincidence brewing, but she couldn’t quite identify it. If she stared at the words long enough, whatever it was might become clear. But now Ben was the priority.

  She dialed their home and after five rings Edith answered, sounding harried and more than a little bit annoyed. “McKinnon residence, Edith speaking,” she said and then waited for the caller to speak.

  “It’s me, Edith—Paris. We’re on the road—should be there in less than half an hour. I’m calling to check on Ben. Is he there?”

  “They must be around here somewhere. Last time I saw them they were playing with Sir Freddie. When I got back from shopping he was following everywhere at Ben’s heels. He told me the furry rascal had been in the fountain again. Said they dried him off, and he took a nap in the sun for a while. Let me look outside and see where they’ve gotten to. Do you want to talk to Ben?”

  “I don’t need to talk to him. Just see if they’re right outside. I want to put my mind at ease. I’ll wait while you check.” Paris sat quietly looking out the car window, watching the countryside whiz by while she waited to hear that her son had respected his father’s request that they both stay put. Within several minutes Edith returned, picked up the receiver and spoke to Paris. “They’re in the kitchen garden, fooling with the pea shoots. Sir Freddie is sitting outside the gate looking forlorn at having been left out.”

  Paris laughed and sighed with relief. “See you soon. How’s dinner coming? Don’t answer that—it’s always coming on well. You’re a fabulous cook. You spoil us. And I have dessert, as promised.” With that, she rang off and put her phone back in the briefcase. “All’s well for tonight, but we have tomorrow ahead of us. Looks like we may finally find out what those dregs of society want from me. I know I’ll be pressured in some way. Can’t imagine what we’ll do then.”

  Hugh knew that she was frightened and had no intention of leaving her side until the whole mess was sorted. In the meantime, he wanted to keep his concerns from her, as well as from Ben and Ana. He asked her if she was satisfied, at least for the moment, and she answered him by reaching over and patting his leg affectionately. They rode on in silence. Thoreau would have to wait for another day.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Valerie entered the bustling café, a popular spot for employees working in office buildings nearby. She was shown to a table for two in a shady corner of the outdoor seating area. Olivia had never been a consistently punctual person, and Valerie hoped this would not be one of her late arrivals. A waiter approached but she declined ordering, saying she would wait for her friend. Earlier in the day her part of London had been immersed in a sultry rain-like fog, but it had dispersed almost as quickly as it had descended. Puddles remained on the tile flooring where the tables stood protected by large umbrellas. Drops of moisture still balanced on the leaves of the few potted plants, and she noticed how they sparkled in the sunlight. A manicured boxwood hedge defined the space, and a few of its inhabitants hopped around, in and out of puddles, chirping and foraging for crumbs. Valerie made these observations while sorting out how she would present Olivia with the idea of a trip. It was cool in the shade, so Valerie pulled on her cashmere cardigan and settled back in the chair, continuing to watch the entrance for her friend’s arrival.

  Pinning Olivia down to a lunch commitment had been difficult. Evidently she had a new client that was requiring much of her time. She had to admit that Olivia’s explanation had in some way fallen short. There was an edge to her voice that revealed there was more to it than being busy with work. Just as she checked her watch for the third time, Olivia swept into the restaurant foyer, a departing gentleman having held the door open as his eyes followed her movements. She looked both chic and Boho in her tall boots, short leopard print skirt, and black silk blouse tied loosely at the waist. A dark indigo jean jacket was draped casually over one shoulder. As usual, her large earrings swung freely, framed by a copper shock of hair hanging in loose waves. Valerie was used to Olivia’s ‘entrances.’ She had been little more than a child when Valerie first met her, but by the time she had reached eighteen, heads always turned when she entered a room.

  Olivia looked around and spotted her lunch companion. She waved, walked quickly to the table, and before taking a seat gave Valerie a light kiss on each cheek. The waiter stood at the edge of the outdoor area, staring at Olivia, failing to approach their table or any other. Olivia usually seemed oblivious to the attention she would garner— a trait her mother insisted was a sign that she lacked both guile and conceit. She placed her leather bag on the unused chair and settled back, crossing her arms in front of her.

  She cocked her head and looked squarely at Valerie. “Well, what was so urgent that we had to have lunch today?”

  “I don’t know if urgent is the right word, but my reason is important— to me at least.” Valerie leaned forward and put her forearms on the table before continuing. “You remember that I’ve had to close the shop, right?” Olivia nodded yes. Valerie took a deep breath and said, “I want to take a little trip while it’s closed. In fact, I’d be surprised if my father doesn’t close it down for good when he takes his quarterly look at the numbers.”

  “I didn’t know it was that bad. But then I haven’t really talked to you for quite a while. Why is that, I wonder?”

  “I think we can share that responsibility— and for my part, I’m sorry.” Valerie leaned back again, still leaving her menu on the table. The same waiter, a tall and lanky young man with a ponytail, had kept his eyes on them— either because they were both attractive women, or because he was anxious for them to order. There was a pause while the two women stared at each other, each waiting for the other to say something.

  Olivia broke the stalemate and asked, “What does your decision to take a trip have to do with me?”

  “I’d rather not go alone. We always used to have fun together, didn’t we— before Ben and I divorced— and even after?” She waited for a response, her expression expectant, perhaps even needy.

  “Yes, I looked up to you when I was an adolescent— thought you were beautiful and that I was ugly— typical teenage angst.” She smiled remembering what she now knew was silliness. “I never had a sister, so you were conscripted into that role. I was truly devastated when you and Ben split up.”

  “So was I…” Valerie seemed to stop mid-sentence and for a moment looked off into space, obviously visiting some memory of Ben. Whether that thought was good or bad, Olivia
couldn’t tell. “So, what do you think? Are you up for a little adventure?”

  “What makes you think I can just walk off the job? And even if I could get some time off, it wouldn’t be paid vacation. I haven’t worked there long enough. I can’t pay my expenses without a full month’s salary.”

  “I’ve already thought about that. Of course I wouldn’t expect you get yourself into a fix. I’ve worked it all out.”

  “How, pray tell?” Olivia now leaned forward and gazed quizzically at Valerie. At that moment a tiny bird landed at the edge of their table and chirped a request that they drop a morsel of bread onto the tile floor. They both looked away from each other and at the bird, which prompted laughter and a return to their old companionability.

  Valerie suggested that they order lunch, and while waiting to be served she would explain the plan. She motioned to the waiter, who with an eye to his tips for the day seemed relieved they would no longer just sit there, keeping the table out of circulation. He took the order and disappeared from sight. As promised, Valerie began her explanation of how they would finance the excursion: the credit card, her small savings account, and the successful plea to her mother, who agreed to keep it between them. She estimated the total amount available and asked if Olivia had any money she could throw into the pot.

  “Valerie, you’re getting ahead of yourself. I don’t even know if I can get a week or ten days off work. And where do you want to go? Have you thought about that? How far the money will go depends on where you go.”

  “I haven’t got my heart set on any place in particular. I just know one thing: I want to get out of England for a while, and I don’t want to set foot on American soil.”

  At that point the waiter arrived with their food, and although they ate for a while without conversing, it was clear that both were thinking about the trip, but for different reasons. Valerie was anxious to avoid the stress of her failing business and her father’s wrath, while Olivia had very different considerations— her job being second to her developing interest in Clive Warren. She expected him to call her for another date, but she hadn’t heard from him. Much to her surprise, that was all she could seem to think about.

  Yet Valerie was not only her ex-sister-in-law, but also her friend. She had helped Olivia navigate her teen years and had always provided a sympathetic ear when she was at odds with her mother, or there was some boy causing her angst, or she needed help with her wardrobe. Her tendency to embrace a more bizarre and edgy fashion sense had not come until her early twenties when Valerie had all but disappeared from her life. During her now infrequent visits to the country, Olivia often heard the whispers between her parents about Valerie’s obsession with getting Ben to come back, about her selfish and demanding ways, about the attempted suicide, the depression— all of it— and although she had been sorry, she hadn’t reached out to her. Olivia had never been able to understand or accept their criticisms of Valerie because she had never been that way with her. Yet Olivia was involved in her education and trying much too hard to separate herself from family issues, believing at that time that cutting herself off from involvement was the way to show she had reached adulthood. What her actions had shown was that her maturity was still out of reach. What she remembered most was that in Valerie she found what seemed to be a kindred spirit.

  She had still been a child when they first met, and for that fact alone she easily attached herself to Valerie. When they were all at the country house Olivia would capture her new sister with requests to come and see this or that—a new rabbit hole in the garden, a chrysalis on the thick stem of a hollyhock, a fashion show of her new dresses for the approaching school year. At meals she would insist on sitting beside Valerie, and if Valerie ate her Brussels sprouts, so would Olivia. She looked forward with great enthusiasm to holidays when she could be with Ben as well as Valerie, whose gifts to her were always perfect. Olivia thought to herself that perhaps it was time to do something for Valerie, just for the sake of how it used to be.

  During the time when Olivia had felt so attached to her, Valerie had become more and more sure that Ben’s parents didn’t approve of her— of them as a couple— especially Ben’s mother. It wasn’t true, at least at the beginning, but a basic insecurity clouded her interpretation of their interaction. Just the fact that she was an American had made her feel like an outsider, regardless of how Hugh and Paris had tried to make her feel welcome. Any problems between Ben and Valerie remained well hidden from his parents for a long time, and all seemed well at the holiday table. Olivia’s presence had always softened the discomfort Valerie felt when being at the McKinnon home. She had served as a buffer—in Valerie’s mind anyway. Olivia’s blind worship of her had soothed her ego. And it was true that she and Ben were less likely to show animosity toward each other in the child’s presence. Since the divorce, Valerie had failed to make any close friends. Whatever friends she had were casual—not the kind in whom one could confide. The truth was that Olivia was the only one she considered ‘close.’ She had been a child, but now she was a woman, and to Valerie, Olivia still felt like a kindred spirit and the perfect person with whom to escape reality.

  The waiter removed their plates and brought coffee. Olivia had been deep in thought, but finally spoke. “I’m not saying I can get away, but let’s just say I can.” Valerie perked up and listened. “I don’t know if you remember, or were even told any stories about my grandparents.” Valerie shook her head no, and Olivia continued. “They met and fell in love in Spain—Pamplona, actually. If you’re interested, I’ll tell you the story, but not now.”

  “I’d like to hear it—I may have just forgotten—but why did you bring that up?”

  “Because it’s an idea, and we need one. Let’s go to Spain—if I can get away without losing my job. If you stay away from the cities and the Costa del Sol, it’s not as expensive as France or Italy. I don’t know when high season starts in Spain, at least that far north. Pamplona is in Navarra. If you don’t object to two-star hotels, it should be manageable for the length of time you mentioned.”

  “Hmmm … that’s one of the last places I’d have thought of going. In fact, I wouldn’t have thought of it at all. I saw us on the Cote d’Azur, or maybe in northern Italy—maybe Florence again. But Spain has two things going for it—I’ve never been there, and you say it’s less expensive.”

  “I’ve been to Florence too, and the Cote d’Azur is probably beyond our—I mean your— means. I always wanted to go to Pamplona because of my grandparents. It’s quite a story, their romance. I’ve always thought it would make a good book—even a film.”

  “You’ve piqued my interest. I don’t know what there is to do in Pamplona for a week or more, but maybe there are some side trips to see something interesting. I just know it’s probably hot and that there’s something that happens there every year—but I can’t remember what it is right now.” She told Olivia that lunch was her treat and then motioned to the waiter for the bill. He was more than happy to bring it immediately and they were soon out on the sidewalk and ready to part ways. An expectant smile crossed Valerie’s face and she gave Olivia a hug. Her expression then became serious, and she said, “I feel like running straight to a travel agent—or my computer, but no point in that until you talk to your boss. When can you do that? Will he be in the office this afternoon? Can you tell I’m anxious?”

  Olivia shook her head and smiled at Valerie’s enthusiasm then answered, “Yes, I can see that you’re anxious. It does sound like it could be fun, if it works out. I promise that if he comes in this afternoon, I’ll broach the subject with him. I’m not looking forward to that, but he might surprise me. I’ll guarantee him that if he’s swamped when I get back, I’ll work overtime and make up some of the time, even if he won’t pay me for it.”

  “That sounds like a good enough deal for him. I’d give you the time off!”

  “I know him well enough by now to know that if something’s free, he’s all for it.”

  �
��Call me the minute you know.”

  Olivia assured her that she would be in touch, and they parted in different directions. It had turned into a long visit, and she half hoped her boss wasn’t in yet, because to ask a favor on the heels of a longer than permitted lunch might not be the best choice. She took long strides walking the two blocks back to her workplace, glad that they had agreed to meet at a café that was fairly close by. The office door was still locked. Her boss and the other assistant were evidently still at lunch or out seeing a client. Olivia unlocked the door with her own key and then busied herself unwrapping and cataloging the fabrics that had been in the morning deliveries. Soon she heard voices in reception and went to see who had come in. The owner of the design firm, Mr. Cole Saunders, was talking to a man delivering another parcel. Their brief conversation ended, the man left, and Olivia asked Mr. Saunders if she could have a word. He ushered her into his office and sat down at his desk. She declined to take a seat and then began to speak, first having taken in a deep breath.

  “I have a request— a big one, actually— and I know you have every right to refuse, given that I’ve only worked her for a bit more than a year.”

  “Let’s have it— nothing ventured, nothing gained.” He motioned her to get on with it and looked down, shuffling papers on his desk and opening the folder directly in front of him. Then he stopped abruptly and looked up at Olivia as he said, “Well then?”

  “I was waiting for you to finish what you’re doing.” He settled back in his chair, indicating that he was now listening, so she continued. “Let me preface this by reminding you that I haven’t taken any time off during this year, other than those three days when I had some kind of flu.”

  “Yes, I remember, and I’m aware you’ve been diligent— and, may I say, popular with the clients you’ve assisted.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Saunders. I enjoy my work. But here’s the thing: My sister-in-law— ex-sister-in-law actually— has asked me to take a trip with her… to Spain. She’s been going through a rather stressful time, and we’ve remained friends, even after she and my brother divorced.”