A Catered Birthday Party (28 page)

“Evidently,” Bernie said. She was about to add something to the effect of asking what she’d find if she dropped in on Ines when Samantha spoke up.

“You wouldn’t! You couldn’t!” she cried.

“Bad joke. I was just kidding,” Bernie said.

“No. You weren’t.”

Bernie held up her hand. “I swear I was.”

Sean sighed. Sometimes he wondered if Bernie had any common sense at all. She should never have brought Trudy up. Or maybe she just delighted in stirring things up. He couldn’t decide which one was true. At this point he didn’t want to waste mental energy trying to figure it out either.

“Let’s solve one problem at a time, shall we?” he said to Samantha.

Samantha didn’t reply. Sean didn’t think she’d heard him because she was heading toward the door when he’d spoken. Either that or she was practicing willfull deafness, a talent both his children excelled at.

“Good luck,” he said to Bernie as she got ready to follow Samantha out the door and down the stairs.

He didn’t envy Bernie at the moment. He didn’t envy her one bit.

B
ernie didn’t envy herself either. She was not happy. Put that in capital letters. She was thinking about how she’d much rather be back at the shop rolling out pie dough and waiting on customers instead of dealing with the upcoming Richard and Samantha fiasco. At the very least, it wasn’t going to be pleasant. At the very most, it might involve a police presence. But then everything could turn out fine too, which was about as likely as a millipede walking on crutches.

Of course, if the drive over there was any harbinger of things to come, the meeting was going to be irritating at best. A tractor trailer had jackknifed on the ice on Bernard Street. That meant Bernie had had to take Questview instead, a street Bernie usually avoided because of the cars that always spilled out from the big-box shops lining the road. They’d been stuck in traffic for the last ten minutes.

Samantha was looking out the window and uncharacteristically not saying much of anything. As they came up to the first entrance to the Hudson Mall, Bernie was wondering what Richard was going to do.

“Stop!” Samantha cried.

Bernie startled. “Why? What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“Nothing is wrong. I need to go in there.” And Samantha pointed to Dick’s Sporting Goods.

“Now?” Bernie asked, wondering what on earth Samantha could possibly want in a store like that. She couldn’t imagine someone who was more at odds with the store’s aesthetic. Her dad and Libby would mock her for using those words, but it was true.

“Definitely now.”

“But why? Do you want to get a rifle and shoot someone?”

“Ha. Ha. You’re a funny lady. No. I promised Megan I’d get these camo T-shirts for her. She wants to use them for a project she’s working on. She’s going to sew them into a dress. Then she’s going to paint dead animals dripping blood on them and stand by the hunting section of Dick’s, which is why I want to get them for her here.”

“Kind of a karma thing,” Bernie said.

Samantha beamed. “Exactly. And it’ll also be like a thank-you for this morning. Please,” she said. “It’ll just take a second. Then we’ll go see dickhead.”

“I take it you mean Richard?”

“Whatever,” Samantha said.

Bernie sighed. But she turned into the mall anyway. Given the situation, she was willing to cater to Samantha for a little while. After all, even though Samantha was putting on a brave front, she must have been feeling positively wretched inside.

“How long do you think Megan will last before the security guards come and throw her out?” Bernie asked as she pulled into a parking space next to the mall’s main entrance.

“Megan’s not going to be the only one there,” Samantha said.

“Do you think this will do something?” Bernie asked.

“I don’t know,” Samantha said. “But you have to keep trying. You can’t just turn a blind eye to stuff. That’s wrong.”

“No. I suppose you can’t,” Bernie said. Suddenly, she felt incredibly old.

She and Samantha got out of the van and scurried into the mall. It had gotten colder again and smelled as if it was going to snow.

“This place is huge,” Bernie commented as she and Samantha paused at the entrance of Dick’s.

She’d never been in the place. Why would she? But she knew that Brandon shopped here for his camping gear. She knew this because he’d suggested she come here and buy a sleeping bag. That way she could go camping with him. She’d declined the offer. Her idea of roughing it was staying in a motel without a swimming pool.

Now she was thinking she should have said yes. It might be fun. As they went through the aisles of the shop, Bernie stopped now and then to assess the merchandise. By the time they reached the hunting section, she was fairly certain that aside from some yoga pants, water bottles, and hand warmers there wasn’t too much in the store that she wanted to buy.

Looking at the crossbows hanging on the walls and the rifles lined up like sentinels, Bernie felt as if she’d wandered into another country, one where everyone was wearing ugly clothes manufactured out of cheap fabrics. She was contemplating a particularly unlovely hat when she became aware that Samantha was staring at something in one of the display cases.

“Can I help you?” the man behind the counter asked her.

It was clear from the look on his face that he disapproved of Samantha’s bright blue hair. Or maybe, Bernie thought, he was merely puzzled by Samantha’s choice of hair color.

Samantha tapped her finger on the glass. “How much are those?” she asked.

“You mean the stealth cams?” he asked in turn.

Samantha nodded.

“They range in price from one hundred and fifty to over one thousand dollars, but most run about two hundred and fifty, and there are really low-end ones for one hundred dollars. The resolution isn’t as good, but they still do the job. Are you interested in buying one?”

“I’m thinking about it,” Samantha said as Bernie came up beside her.

“What are they?” Bernie asked.

“My downfall,” Samantha said.

“Hunting cameras,” the man behind the counter explained. “You mount them on a tree and they take pictures of deer and such.”

“Or people,” Samantha said bitterly.

“Well, I suppose you could use them that way. Most people who want to do that kind of thing would use something like a nanny cam. These just take stills, while a nanny cam uses video technology.”

“But these are cheaper,” Samantha said.

The clerk nodded. “They are indeed.”

“And easy to hide.”

“I suppose they are,” the clerk said. “I mean, that’s the whole point. Can I show you one?” he asked Samantha. “Do you see a model you’re interested in?”

“Do I look like someone who hunts?” Samantha asked. Then she turned and walked off.

“You want to tell me what that’s about?” Bernie asked when she caught up with her over by the rack of hunting clothes.

Samantha held up two T-shirts. One was in varying shades of green, while the other was in browns. “Which do you think Megan will like better?” she asked Bernie.

“The green. It’s marginally less ugly. But it’s huge.”

“It’ll be fine,” Samantha said. “She’s going to make a dress out of it, remember?”

“Tell me about the stealth cams.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Samantha replied.

“Obviously, there is.”

“Why do you care?”

“I’m not sure,” Bernie said. “I just…I want to know.”

“It’s not very complicated. The man I thought was my father, the moron, set one up in his bedroom, so he could see who came in there—the putz.”

“So that’s how he knew you’d taken the clothes from your stepmother’s closet?”

“She’s not even my stepmother. She’s this personage in the house.”

Bernie threw up her hands. “Fine. Let’s call her the Wicked Witch.”

Samantha giggled. “That’s how he knew I took some money from his drawer. It was only ten dollars, for Pete’s sake. I was giving it to that old guy who lives on Spenser—the one who collects the cans….”

Bernie nodded. Sam’s list of crimes was getting longer by the minute.

“And I was going to return the money as soon as I got paid. It’s not as if Barron can’t afford it. He said it was the principle of the thing. Ha.” Samantha fell silent for a moment. “People shouldn’t be allowed to spy on people.”

Bernie declined to point out that taking things without asking permission was also not a good thing.

“Barron’s like a disease. That’s what my mom always said, and she was right,” Samantha continued. “He infects everyone he’s around. He even has the dickhead—”

“Richard Colbert?”

“Yeah. Him. Using those stupid cams. I heard Barron talking to him over the phone one day and telling him that if he wanted to protect his wine collection—like who would ever take any of that crap; it tastes horrible—he just needed one of those stupid things.”

“Stealth cams?”

“Yeah. That’s what I just said.”

“And they take pictures?”

“Absolutely. You heard what the guy behind the counter said.”

“And you can look at the pictures?”

“Duh. Of course you can. Why else would you take them? What would be the point?”

“Why else indeed,” Bernie replied.

Samantha gave her an odd look. “Is everything okay?” she asked. “Because you seem a little out of it.”

Bernie pulled herself together. “I’m just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About the camera in Richard Colbert’s wine room. About seeing what’s on it.”

Samantha’s eyes lit up.

Bernie felt a stab of guilt. “I’m not sure that would be a good thing for you,” she said gently, and she explained about Anna.

“No. That’s fine,” Samantha told Bernie when she was done. “My
real
mom was the person who raised me. I don’t care about Anna. Especially if what your dad thinks is right. That means she knew who I was, and well…anyway…I don’t want to go there.”

“You’re sure?” Bernie asked.

“I’m positive,” Samantha said. “And do I have an idea for you.”

“It could work,” Bernie said when Samantha was done talking.

“It will work,” Samantha said. She scrunched up her nose. “But I don’t think we should tell your dad, do you?”

“Absolutely not,” Bernie said.

“I mean, it’s not like what we’re going to do is dangerous,” Samantha said. “It’s just deeply weird and I don’t think your dad does weird well.”

That’s an understatement
, Bernie thought. “You know what,” she said. “Let’s just surprise him with the stealth cam if we get it.”

“
When
we get it,” Samantha said.

“Yes. You’re right.
When
we get it.” Bernie rubbed her hands together. This was going to be fun. Even if they didn’t succeed, it was still going to be fun.

I
t took three phone calls—one to Brandon and the other to Megan, who in turn called her mother—and an hour to organize everything.

“This is going to work,” Samantha said.

Mrs. McKee bounced up and down on the soles of her feet and clapped her hands. “This is so exciting.”

Brandon just looked bemused. He understood the concept well enough; he just couldn’t decide what he thought about actually doing it.

Bernie gazed at her coconspirators in crime. She couldn’t help smiling. They were such an unlikely bunch, especially Holly, the potbellied pig that Mrs. McKee had recruited from her neighbor for the occasion, and Otto, the McKees’ cat, who was securely if not happily sitting in his cat carrier. Megan had wanted to add one of the parrots in the store to the mix, but saner heads, and the observation that it was too cold for a parrot to be outside even for a short time, had prevailed.

Bernie was only sorry that Trudy couldn’t have joined them. But that would have put her back in the Colbert household. And then there was the fact that Ines would probably have called her dad to let him know what was going on.

“Are we ready to get the show on the road?” Bernie asked everyone.

Brandon gave a thumbs-up, Holly snuffled, Samantha and Mrs. McKee both flashed V-for-victory signs, while the cat remained quiet. He was not pleased, a fact he made abundantly clear by trying to scratch anyone who came near his carrying case.

“Then let’s get going,” Samantha said.

Mrs. McKee, Samantha, and Holly jumped into Mrs. McKee’s Ford Explorer, while Bernie, Otto, and Brandon got into Brandon’s vehicle.

As they pulled out of Mrs. McKee’s driveway, Brandon said, “You know, this is so silly I think it’s going to work.”

“It will work,” Bernie said. “I just prefer you let me get the stealth cam.”

“Four eyes are better than two,” Brandon told her.

“If we can get in there,” Bernie said. She’d been assailed by a moment of doubt.

“We will,” Brandon assured her. “And even if we don’t, this will be very amusing.”

Bernie brightened. “That it will be.”

Including the potty stop for Holly—“just to be on the safe side,” Mrs. McKee explained—it took twenty minutes to get to the Colbert house. Richard Colbert answered the door in his typically gracious manner.

“What do you want?” he demanded of the crowd of people in front of him.

Samantha came forward. “Daddy!” she cried, throwing her arms around him.

Richard tried to take a step back, but Samantha held on fast.

“It’s all right. I’ve always loved you and Anna better,” Samantha said. “I’ve always sensed a mysterious connection between us.”

“What are you talking about?” Richard demanded.

He has a look of horror on his face
, Bernie thought. She was surprised at the amount of satisfaction that gave her.

“Well, Anna’s my real mommy and you’re my real daddy. Barron told me everything.”

“And we’re here to help her move in,” Mrs. McKee said. “We’ve brought Samantha’s clothes, her family Bible, and her pets.”

Brandon and Bernie put down the boxes and suitcases they were holding and stepped aside to reveal Holly. Richard’s jaw dropped.

“This is Holly, Samantha’s potbellied pig,” said Mrs. McKee, who seemed to have taken charge of the proceedings. “And this is Otto, the cat. He’s a tad hostile right now, but I’m sure he’ll be fine once he settles down. It only took him four months to stop scratching the furniture in my house.”

“Pets? What pets? Samantha doesn’t have any pets,” Richard squeaked. He seemed to have trouble assimilating the situation.

“I have to confess she was boarding them at my house,” Mrs. McKee confided. “She thought Barron would be upset if she arrived with them. Poor child. First her mother, then her animals. It would have been too much. And anyway, my child has allergies.” Mrs. McKee beamed. “But now she can be together with them. Thank you. Thank you so much. I can’t tell you how nice this is of you. Samantha is so lucky.”

Holly gave a polite oink. Richard looked as if he was going to choke. Mrs. McKee led the charge inside, with the pig, the cat, Bernie, and Brandon following in her wake. Richard was too stunned to say or do anything.

“My, my,” Mrs. McKee said when they were all safely in the house and Brandon had closed the door behind them. “This certainly is a large house. Holly will have lots of room to roam.” And with that she unleashed Holly and let the cat out of his carrier.

“What are you doing?!” Richard screamed.

“Why, getting them used to their surroundings, of course,” Mrs. McKee said in a tone that made clear the stupidity of the question. “Now, where do you want us to put Samantha’s belongings? We have lots more of her stuff in the car.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Samantha said. “Where do you want me to put my saxophone? I’m trying to get at least two hours of practice in a day. Usually, I try to do it between five and seven in the morning. That way I get it done and over with.”

But Richard didn’t reply. He was watching in horror as Holly took off down the hall. The cat was close at her heels.

“Oh dear,” Mrs. McKee said. “Maybe we should follow. Holly does have a habit of eating things she shouldn’t. She’s especially fond of Oriental rugs.”

“Oh my God,” Richard said. He grabbed his chest. “The Shiraz.”

He took off after the pig, along with Mrs. McKee and Samantha. That left Brandon and Bernie by themselves.

“Shall we?” Bernie said. She bowed and extended her hand.

“Lead on, McDuff,” Brandon said, “and your loyal henchman will follow.”

As Bernie and Brandon hurried toward the room where Richard Colbert stored his wine, they could hear assorted screeches, oinks, and yells coming from the other wing of the house.

“How long do you think we’ve got?” Brandon asked.

“Not a clue,” Bernie said as they entered Richard’s wine room. “I have a feeling Holly’s pretty hard to get when she doesn’t want to be got.”

“Nice place,” Brandon observed, looking around.

Bernie had to agree that it was. The room itself was on the smallish side. There were two leather chairs and a small round table in the center. A few feet from that was a bar made out of copper and oak. A variety of wineglasses hung from an overhead wire rack. A wine rack made out of crisscrossed pieces of polished golden oak and filled with bottles of wine sat in the back. The shelves on the opposing two walls were filled with bottles of wine as well.

“He’s got enough wine in here to open a liquor store,” Brandon observed.

Bernie nodded and pointed to a metal rectangular box butting up against the far wall. “I’m betting that’s the wine safe,” she said.

“Yup. Here be vintages,” Brandon said. “Which means that the camera has to have a view of that.”

“Which would put it right behind the bar.”

“Exactamundo, Sherlock.”

Brandon and Bernie scrutinized the wall in back of the bar. There was a rather large, badly executed picture of three fat men sitting at a table smoking cigars and drinking brandy. Similar pictures decorated the other walls.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Brandon asked.

“That Richard Colbert has terrible taste in art?” Bernie held up her hand. “Just kidding,” she said to Brandon as she moved toward the picture.

Brandon did the same. In the background, they could hear the sounds of running footsteps, Mrs. McKee saying, “Oh, I’m so dreadfully sorry. Holly has never pooped on a rug before,” and Richard screaming, “Get out! I want you out!”

“We’d better hurry,” Bernie said as she and Brandon lifted the picture off the wall and propped it against the bar.

The stealth cam was right there, nestled in the cavity that Richard Colbert had made for it. Bernie lifted it out and put it in her bag. Then she and Brandon picked the picture back up and carefully put it back in its place. As she did Bernie could see the small hole in the cigar tip that lined up with the stealth cam’s lens. They stepped out from behind the bar.

“I wonder if there are any more cams in here,” Brandon said. “I think we should check.”

Bernie was about to answer when Richard appeared at the door. He was panting. His hair was a mess. His clothes were disheveled. “What are you doing in here?!” he screamed.

“You don’t have to yell,” Bernie said. “We were looking for the cat.”

“The cat went in the other direction,” Richard cried.

“I guess that explains why we couldn’t find him,” Bernie said as she started edging around him.

“I want you out of here! I want you out of here now!” Richard screamed as he pointed to the door.

Samantha appeared behind him. “Daddy, don’t throw me out into the street,” she begged.

He turned. She got down on her knees and embraced his legs. “Please,” she sobbed.

“Now, now,” Bernie said as she got past Richard. “Samantha, it’s time to go.”

“Don’t make me leave my father,” Samantha moaned, playing the scene for all it was worth.

Bernie had to look down so she wouldn’t laugh. Samantha continued to sob. Brandon went over and lifted her up.
Maybe the kid will make it as an actress
, Bernie thought as she watched her. She was certainly good at improv.

“Sorry,” Brandon said to Richard. “She tends to get a little emotional.”

By the time all of them got to the front door, Mrs. McKee was standing there with Holly and Otto. Bernie gave a slight nod to Mrs. McKee. She gathered up Holly’s leash and picked up the cat carrier, where Otto was safely ensconced.

“Come, children,” Mrs. McKee said. “This is not a nice man after all.”

She hurried out the door, with everyone else right behind her.

Sean and Libby looked more than a little surprised when everyone, animals included, came trooping into the Simmons’s flat twenty minutes later. Sean was even more surprised after he’d looked at the pictures on the stealth cam.

“Don’t tell me how you got this,” he said to Bernie and her gang before he called Clyde. “I don’t want to know.”

After Clyde had had a chance to see the pictures, he said the same thing to them. Then he took a drive out to the Colbert house. Richard and Joanna were packing up when he arrived.