Sinner or Saint

by Brenda Donelan

  The trio made their way to the house, shuffling along, not exactly ready to deal with the shit show that awaited them. As they walked toward the front door, Hector leaned in toward Marlee and whispered, “I think you’re adorable when you’re mad.”

  Not everyone was onboard with the plan.

  Chapter 20

  Hector was doubled over, catching his breath after Marlee’s elbow to his ribs, when Conrad opened the door. If their host noticed Hector’s discomfort, he ignored it. “Greetings, my fine guests. Please accompany me to the sitting room.” Tonight, Conrad was wearing a British foot guard uniform and using a British accent, although he wasn’t doing either particularly well. He sported a scarlet tunic with gold buttons, dark pants, and a white leather belt. The eighteen-inch black bearskin cap perched atop his head was held in place with a tight chin strap.

  Marlee rolled her eyes at Conrad’s affected formality. He reminded her of Thurston Howell III from Gilligan’s Island, which amused and annoyed her at the same time. He led them to the sitting room where Della sat on the love seat, clad in a red velour sweat suit and snow boots. Her mouth was scrunched in what could best be described as a frown. This should be fun, Marlee thought. Like a root canal.

  Kelsey appeared before anyone could speak, dressed in a black maid’s uniform and frilly white apron. Her sour expression telegraphed volumes. She was miserable at Conrad’s house and was in need of pain killers. “Hiya. What can I get yas to drink?” Kelsey moved toward the drink cart, parked in what appeared to be its permanent position.

  Bridget ordered a gin and tonic, Marlee asked for vodka with cranberry juice, and Hector requested Maker’s Mark. She stared at them for a moment before commencing with the pouring and mixing. Conrad held a newly prepared drink and drank from it as Kelsey struggled with the ice bucket.

  “For hell’s sake, girl. Don’t you know how to use ice tongs?” Conrad bellowed, grabbing them and putting ice in the drinks. He gave Kelsey a shoulder shove to move her out of his way.

  Kelsey handed Hector his drink, which was intentionally un-iced and waited for Conrad to finish his attempt at plopping ice cubes in Marlee and Bridget’s drink. He was half in the bag since he’d been drinking since before noon, and several of the cubes he grasped with the tongs fell to the floor. Kelsey kicked them under the cart, looking around to make sure no one noticed.

  After they all had their drinks and were settled, Kelsey left the room. Della hadn’t greeted any of the guests, although her reddening face suggested she had plenty to say.

  “How are everyone’s cocktails?” Conrad asked, always the conscientious host, especially when he was avoiding something.

  “I don’t want to hear about the drinks, Conrad!” Della bellowed, no longer able to keep her ire under wraps. “What the fuck is going on? Kelsey is staying here? Have I been replaced? You could’ve just told me rather than putting on this humiliating display!”

  Conrad leapt from his chair and knelt beside Della. “My dear, she could never replace you. No one on this Earth could take your place. Kelsey’s staying here because she couldn’t tolerate Marlee’s draconian rules any longer, and she didn’t have anywhere else to stay in Elmwood. I have all these extra bedrooms, and I haven’t had a maid since my sister went to prison, so I offered the position to Kelsey. What would you have done if you were me?”

  “I would have said ‘hit the road, Toad’ if someone showed up at my door, regardless of how much extra room I had. She can go back to Marlee’s house, or she can go back to Dublin. There’s no fucking reason for her to stay at your house. If you needed a maid so bad, you would have hired one long before this!” Della rose from the love seat, ready to explode.

  “Now, now, honey bun,” Conrad said, removing his enormous bearskin cap and rising to his feet. “You know there’s no one but you who has a place in my heart. You know that. This little girl needed a place to stay, and I’m helping her as a favor to Ian and out of the goodness of my heart. But if you want her gone, then she’s gone.”

  To Conrad’s surprise, Della said, “Then she’s gone.”

  “But, but…” Conrad sputtered. “Where will she go? She can’t put up with Marlee any longer, which I think we can all understand.”

  “She can stay with me. I can keep an eye on her, and I won’t have to worry about her putting the moves on you.” Della crossed her arms and looked defiantly at Conrad. It was a done deal.

  Marlee wasn’t sure how she should feel after the interchange between Della and Conrad in the last few minutes. She thought it was ridiculous that Della would consider Kelsey a threat to her relationship with Conrad, but with a drug addict it was impossible to know how far they would stoop to get drugs. At the same time, having Kelsey under Della’s watchful eye could be a good thing. Not knowing what to do, Marlee watched the situation play out.

  “Nothing’s going on,” Conrad said, dropping his British accent for the first time. “But if you want Kelsey to stay with you, that’s fine by me!”

  Shaking her head in agreement, Della smiled for the first time since Marlee and her group arrived. “She can move in after supper tonight,” Della said, satisfied that her imagined rival for Conrad’s affections was now alleviated.

  To Marlee’s surprise, the remainder of the evening was pleasant. Kelsey stayed away from the group other than to deliver the meal to the table. Plates of Indian food decorated the table, minimally spiced to accommodate the bland Midwestern palate. Clearly, the meal had been the work of a caterer, but everyone kept up the farce that it was home-cooked by Kelsey.

  Conrad entertained his guests with stories of his travels to the Congo and the outback of Australia. Marlee and Bridget exchanged glances, wanting to hate Conrad but secretly wishing they’d been on those same trips. “This is a Maori warrior mask that I procured on my last trip to New Zealand,” he said, displaying his collectible with pride. “My greatest joy is to bring back priceless mementos from my trips. Not just knick-knacks and tchotchkes that everyone brings back, but honest-to-goodness collectibles.”

  “Have you thought of starting your own museum?” Hector asked, apparently under the influence of his second double Maker’s Mark. “I think most people would enjoy seeing your collections.”

  Marlee raised her eyebrows at Hector before she understood that he was acting more intoxicated than was the case. He caught her eye and winked when Conrad wasn’t looking.

  Conrad, completely inebriated at this point, beamed at Hector’s suggestion. “I’ve thought of opening up my home as a living museum. I’m not sure if I want people traipsing through my house at all hours of the day.”

  Of course, you do, Marlee thought, envisioning Conrad emerging from the shadows mid-tour to espouse knowledge to those who paid to learn more about his collections. She knew he’d like nothing more than to have a captive audience to show off his array of bird cages, mounted animal heads, medieval memorabilia, and other frivolities.

  “A museum of your collections might be just what Elmwood needs,” Marlee said, not meaning a word of it. As far as she was concerned, most of his collectibles were as worthless as tits on a chicken, to coin one of Della’s popular phrases. “If I can ever be of help making that happen, let me know.”

  Conrad beamed at Marlee’s offer as the desserts and coffee were presented. A polite discussion of property zoning ensued regarding the proposed meat packing plant on the edge of town, and the night ended on a positive note. As Marlee and her group departed, she noticed Kelsey getting into Della’s Suburban.

  “I’m not sure if things have gotten better or worse,” Marlee commented. “Della will keep Kelsey on the straight and narrow as far as drugs are concerned. But I’m afraid she’ll be so strict that Kelsey will leave within a day or so, unless she can find a new drug source.”

  “You don’t think Della can hook her up with drugs?” Bridget asked.

  “Della’s a drinker, but drugs aren’t her thing. When Kelsey tries to get out of her house to find pills, Della�
�s going to freak out. That’ll be enough to make Kelsey leave,” Marlee predicted.

  “Where will she go? You think she’ll come back to your place?” Hector asked, as Marlee dropped him off outside his apartment. “You want to talk this over more? I could drive over to your house.”

  “Uh, no. I think we’re all talked out on the matter. If she comes back, I’ll let you know. Thanks.” Marlee sped off without a glance at Hector as he stood on the sidewalk.

  “He’s got it bad for you,” Bridget commented.

  “I know. That’s why I’m doing everything I can to discourage him. Bettina is on her honeymoon, otherwise I wouldn’t have called him. I told him as much, but he seems to think there’s a chance we can get back together now that he and Trish are finished.”

  Bridget’s apartment wasn’t that far from Marlee’s house, so they decided she’d ride home with Marlee and they’d have a few drinks and talk about the evening. As soon as they walked in the back door, Marlee could sense there was something off about her house. It wasn’t a smell or a sound, but merely a feeling that someone had been in her home without her knowledge or permission. She knew it couldn’t be Kelsey because she’d gotten into Della’s vehicle as they were driving off. Plus, Kelsey didn’t have a key to the place, not that it would stop her from breaking in if she put her mind to it.

  Marlee put her arm out as a precaution to Bridget, who walked behind her. Neither bothered taking off their coats or snow boots as they trekked across the kitchen and into the carpeted dining room. Sitting at the table were two men in dark jackets; one she knew and one she didn’t.

  Kelsey’s father, Patrick Rafferty, stood to greet Marlee as she entered the kitchen. “Hope you don’t mind us letting ourselves in. We waited outside but were getting chilly.” The other man remained in his chair, taking a swig from a bottle of Leinenkugel Hector brought over the night before.

  “So, you picked the lock?” Bridget asked.

  “No, the back door was unlocked. We’re looking for Kelsey and thought she’d be here,” Patrick said, looking at Marlee, a desperate look on his face.

  “Just a minute.” Marlee motioned Bridget to follow her back into the kitchen. They kicked off their snow boots in the entry way and hung up their coats. “Don’t tell them anything,” she warned Bridget. “I don’t know if they’re here to help or hurt Kelsey.”

  Her cousin nodded in agreement and grabbed beer from the fridge. They seated themselves at the far end of the table, away from Patrick Rafferty and his unidentified friend. For all Marlee knew, they might have guns and be ready to use them.

  “Who’s this?” Marlee asked, nodding toward the man with blonde hair and a ruddy complexion.

  “Forgive my manners. This is Ian O’Sullivan, a friend of our family,” Patrick said with a smile. “He agreed to accompany me here to Elmwood to fetch Kelsey and bring her home.”

  “A family friend? Don’t you mean the family loan shark?” Marlee asked. “Kelsey told us about the little arrangement.” She left her statement intentionally vague, hoping Patrick or Ian would fill in the details. Those details would either conform to or differ from Kelsey's story.

  Patrick threw back his head and let loose with a hearty laugh. “You know our Kelsey. Always full of stories.”

  “So, you don’t owe any money to Ian?” Marlee asked.

  Taking a drink from his beer to stall for time, Patrick sought to change the subject. “That cat of yours is a beast. It chased Ian after he left the restroom.”

  “If you did anything to hurt Pippa, I’ll kill you with my bare hands and bury you so deep no one will ever find your body,” Marlee growled, a little shocked by her instant rage.

  “Whoa! Nobody hurt your damn cat,” Ian exclaimed, speaking for the first time. “I just used the loo, and she ran at me and attacked my leg. I shook her loose, and off she ran.”

  Marlee jumped up to look for her beloved feline while Bridget introduced herself and took over the questioning. “Patrick, I want to come back to the question Marlee asked you. Do you owe any money to Ian?”

  He nodded, looking at Ian as he smoothed the front of his jacket. “Ah, yes. The B&B was struggling, and we needed some help to stay afloat, so Ian generously agreed to help us. Taking out a loan is a regular occurrence for most small business owners, even here in the U.S., I’d suspect.”

  By now, Marlee had confirmed that Pippa was fine, although in a pissy mood as was normal when people were visiting or breaking and entering. She came back to the table and continued with the questioning. “Why did Kelsey come to Elmwood?”

  “You should know better than anyone,” Patrick said, with a tinge of bitterness in his voice. “She talked to you about coming to the U.S. all the while you were at the B&B. My wife and I discouraged you from talking to her about moving here, but you did so anyway. If anyone knows about Kelsey’s trip here, it’s you.”

  Taking a deep breath, Marlee recounted her discussions with Kelsey. “I encouraged her to take some business classes and keep working at the B&B. I told her that your economic situation would likely improve soon, and when it did, she would have not only the experience of working at the B&B, but also a degree in business management if she applied herself. One minute she seemed to listen to me, the next minute she was talking about being a makeup artist in Hollywood. I never told her to leave you and come to the U.S. right now, and I certainly never invited her to come to Elmwood.”

  “And you expect Patrick to believe you?” Ian spat, sitting on the edge of his chair, his arms on the table.

  “What reason would I have for encouraging Kelsey to come to Elmwood? I’m not looking for a roommate, and I have plenty of students Kelsey’s age to help with their career aspirations. There’s nothing in this for me,” Marlee said forcefully, now placing her arms on the table and staring at Ian.

  Patrick waved his arms in front of him as if trying to clear the air. “Marlee, I know you’re not to blame. Kelsey idolized you and didn’t want to work at the B&B any longer, so she came here. She’s nineteen and doesn’t put a lot of thought into anything.”

  Marlee decided it was time to throw Patrick and Ian a curveball. “Ian, we have a mutual friend. Conrad Thayer lives here in Elmwood, as I’m sure you know.”

  Ian’s sneered. “That’s right. I’d forgotten he lived here. I’ll have to look him up while I’m in town.”

  “Maybe you could ask him how the antique pipe and emeralds are working for him,” Marlee said, looking Ian in the eye.

  “I think Kelsey has filled your head with some false notions. We don’t know anything about a pipe or emeralds,” Patrick said quickly, giving a nervous glance in Ian’s direction.

  Ian roughly pushed back his chair as he stood, nearly toppling it. “I think it’s time you tell us how to find Kelsey.” His hand was in his jacket pocket, but Marlee couldn’t be sure whether or not he had a gun.

  “She’s staying at Conrad Thayer’s house,” Bridget interjected. “She was staying here but then left to stay with him.”

  “That’s all we needed to know,” Ian said as he walked out the front door, Patrick following him as they walked into the cold night.

  I told a lot of lies, but one thing was the absolute truth. I wasn’t going back to Dublin.

  Chapter 21

  “What the hell just happened?” Bridget asked as she and Marlee locked the front door and returned to the table.

  “I don’t know, but good save in telling them Kelsey was at Conrad’s house. The only problem is that he’ll tell them she’s at Della’s. At most, we’ve got half an hour to get to Kelsey before her father and Ian track her down.”

  They raced out to Marlee’s SUV in the garage. On the drive to Della’s, they worked out what they would say to Kelsey and how they could distract Della.

  “You like dogs, right?” Marlee asked.

  “Yeah, I like all animals.”

  “Good, because I need you to pester Della with all kinds of questions about her dogs. Meanwhile,
I’ll find Kelsey and let her know about her dad and Ian being in town.”

  The uproarious barking from Della’s house could be heard from the street as Marlee and Bridget exited their vehicle. “Her dogs are as hyped up and unruly as Della is,” Marlee noted.

  Della answered the door, a glass filled with an amber liquid in her hand. “What the hell do you two want?”

  Marlee smiled sweetly. “We wanted to make sure Kelsey was getting settled in okay. I know how hard it can be to have an unexpected guest.”

  Taking the time to really observe Della’s home, Marlee realized it was a cheaper, scaled-down version of Conrad’s home. Whereas Conrad’s home was a mix-up of high-end antiques, Della’s décor had a definite theme. Most of the decorations looked as if they’d been selected by a sight-impaired person. Or perhaps a drunk person. Dog knick-knacks permeated every inch of her living room along with dog pillows on the couches and dog paintings on the walls. A giant cushion in the shape of a dog rested on the floor beside her unlit fireplace. Above the fireplace was a caricature drawing of Della and her two dogs. Marlee wondered how the artist was able to capture Della and the dogs when none of them could hold still for more than ten seconds at a time.

  “Kelsey’s fine. I took her up to her room, and she’s already asleep.” Della looked at the McCabe cousins through bleary, squinted eyes.

  “Della, did I tell you I was thinking of getting a dog from the shelter? I don’t know what kind to get. Do you have any suggestions?” Bridget asked, sitting on the couch.

  And just like that, they were off to the races. Della plopped down beside Bridget, only spilling a fraction of her drink. “I think mixed breeds are the best. But you have to take into account their temperament and the level of attention they need. Some dogs are just a pain in the ass.”