Authors: Abigail Keam
“Sure. No problem.”
Jake gathered Franklin’s luggage, and then me, into the car before we sped off to
the Bluegrass Airport.
As Franklin was getting out of the car, he said, “I just keep thinking – why wasn’t
I enough? That ever cross your mind with Brannon?”
Before I could reply, Franklin sashayed through the doors. He didn’t turn around to
wave goodbye. When he thought we weren’t looking, his head drooped.
I wondered if I was ever going to see Franklin again. And his words had struck deep.
Why hadn’t I been enough for Brannon? The nights I had lain awake wondering. I would
never know.
Neither Jake nor I said a word all the way home.
I called Goetz early the next morning. Could I meet him for lunch?
“Show up at Hannah’s on Lime at one o’clock,” he said before hanging up.
That was good for me as I had a doctor’s appointment before that. Some x-rays were
taken and good luck seemed to be in my corner that morning. The Velcro cast was taken
off. Jake had brought a sturdy medical cane as though he knew. Anyway, I felt relieved.
I was tired of hearing Jake grunt when he picked me up and harp on the extra weight
I needed to lose. I knew I needed to lose it. Geez, one thing at a time, okay, lover.
Still it felt great to have that thing off me. The cast . . . not Jake.
Hmmm, I thought. Maybe we could get things grooving in the right direction now.
Jake and I got to Hannah’s first and ordered lunch. I ordered for Goetz, knowing that
he liked turkey sandwiches with mayo, chips, a crisp pickle and sweet iced tea. Don’t
ask me how I knew that, but I did.
A few minutes later, Goetz lumbered through the back door and upon seeing Jake, narrowed
his eyes. “Jesus, can’t you go anywhere without this guy hanging on?” muttered Goetz.
“Just sit down and behave,” I replied, patting a seat.
The waitress brought out our food. Goetz didn’t seem surprised that I had ordered
for him. He took a huge bite out of the sandwich. “I was starving,” he said, munching
his food before taking a big gulp of tea. “Whadja need to see me for?”
“After Addison’s memorial, Lacey Bridges talked to me.”
“Yeah?”
“Told me a crazy story that Doreen
hired
her to seduce Addison so she could divorce him without giving him alimony. That’s
a motive for murder.”
“Gave me the same. The problem is that there is no proof either way. There is a prenup
that says Doreen has to have cause like abuse or adultery for a divorce; without it,
she has to pay Addison a hefty sum.”
“Well there,” I said, slumping back in my seat. “That proves it.”
“Proves nothing. Doreen has never talked to anyone about divorcing Addison . . . not
her lawyer, not her daughter, no one. And there is no proof that Lacey Bridges ever
had an affair with Addison DeWitt. There are no motel receipts, no love letters, no
witnesses, nothing.”
“She said she destroyed the proof.”
“She must have done a good job because I can’t find anything.”
“Now why have you been looking? The medical examiner come back with something odd
after you talked to me last?”
Goetz looked around the restaurant before leaning forward. “He had acetylsalicylic
acid in his stomach.”
“What’s that?”
“The common aspirin,” interjected Jake. “How much?”
“Not even a full tablet.”
“So what?” I asked.
“Some people are very allergic to aspirin.”
“Are you saying that Addison died from aspirin poisoning?”
“Looks that way.”
“And that means murder?” I whispered, trying to wrap my mind around the news.
“Not necessarily,” confided Goetz. “He could have complained of a headache and someone
put an aspirin in his drink and just forgot to tell him, or he took half a pill thinking
that such a small amount wouldn’t harm him.”
Jake wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I didn’t hear him complain about anything like
that. He was telling jokes and seemed fine one minute, and then the next he was having
trouble breathing. Besides, if he were truly allergic, he wouldn’t have taken any
amount of aspirin. Too risky.”
“Did he take a drink from a glass?” asked Goetz.
Jake shook his head. “Didn’t really pay attention. I was listening to him plus some
guy trying to sell me insurance. I don’t remember him holding a glass; he was using
his hands to tell his jokes.”
“Did you have the glasses you took tested?”
Goetz nodded. “Nothing. This morning I went back to Lady Elsmere’s with a warrant
and took all the booze. I should get something back in a couple of days.”
“I bet that went over well,” I surmised, sorry that I had missed the confusion.
Goetz smiled. “She loved it. Lady Elsmere was practically jumping up and down. And
that Meriah Caldwell. She was taking notes and following us around. It was creepy
that two dames should find it such fun to have their house turned upside down.”
“Those are two very bored women,” confirmed Jake. “They like any diversion.”
“Now what?” I asked.
“Wait,” replied Goetz. “I’ve got some ideas to flush the truth out.”
“Want to share?”
“Not at this time”
“Okay. Your turn,” I said.
“O’nan is laying low. Waiting for the trial. We have an ankle bracelet on him. He
is staying far away from you.”
“How do you think the trial will go?”
Goetz patted my hand. “Don’t worry.”
“I wish I could be sure. I just don’t trust that judge on the case.”
Goetz’s phone rang. He looked at it. “Gotta go,” he said, taking out his wallet.
“I’ve got it covered,” I said, waving his money away.
“Thanks.” With that, Goetz strode out of the back of the restaurant without another
word.
Jake watched him intently. “I don’t trust that guy.”
“Why do you say that?”
He patted his stomach. “I just feel it here.”
“An icky feeling?”
“Yeah, real icky, baby.”
I knew the “icks” feeling well.
WHEN BRANNON DIDN’T CALL
It had been three weeks since Brannon had left, and I hadn’t heard a word from him.
He wouldn’t return my calls. Regardless of our marital meltdown, we had bills to pay
for which we were both responsible.
So I took a deep breath and swung open the door to his architectural firm downtown,
hoping to catch him in.
“Good morning, Betsy,” I said to the receptionist, putting on a bright smile. “Is
Brannon in?”
“Hello, goo . . . good morning,” stuttered Betsy. For a moment she looked confused
and started to reply until she thought better of it. Picking up the phone, she called
one of Brannon’s partners. “Wyman, Josiah is here looking for Brannon.” Betsy glanced
up at me and then spoke into the phone again. “I don’t know. Yes, I will.” She put
the phone back on the hook. “Wyman will be right out. Would you like something to
drink?”
“No, I just want to see Brannon. Is he here?” I could feel the heat rise on my face.
Obviously Brannon had told the office that he didn’t want to see me if I should pop
in.
I was humiliated. My father had loaned Brannon the startup money for the firm. Regardless
of what was occurring between us now, this was no way for Brannon to treat me . .
. like a pariah. I wanted to break into tears but held my ground.
Wyman rushed out of his office. “Josiah, so good to see you,” he said, holding out
his hand.
I shook it. “I know you’re busy, but I just wanted to speak with Brannon for a moment.”
He gave Betsy a worried glance. “Well, that is a problem. Brannon’s not here.”
“I’ll just wait in his office then until he comes back.”
“Josiah, I think you’d better come into my office. I think there is a communication
problem between you and Brannon.”
I gave Wyman a weak smile. “Oh, you’re starting to talk corporate BS, so there must
be a hiccup somewhere.”
He smiled back and pulled at my arm gently. “Please, Josiah. We need to talk.”
I followed Wyman into his office, dreading what he was going to say to me. He pulled
out a chair for me and then pulled one up for himself.
“You looked surprised to see me, Wyman.”
“I’ll be honest – I am. What has Brannon told you?”
“That’s just it. Brannon walked out three weeks ago and I haven’t heard from him since.
I came here to see him about bills we need to pay.”
Wyman look embarrassed.
“I’m sorry to be so blunt, but there it is. He’s left me.” I folded my hands in my
lap.
“And you have no idea where he is?”
“None. Wyman, what is going on?”
“Josiah, I don’t know how to tell you this, but Brannon is no longer with the firm.
Jess and I bought him out at – at his insistence – six months ago.”
“What?”
“He said he needed money to pay for Asa’s legal bills and demanded that we buy him
out. Under our contract, we had no choice but to comply.”
I sat silent in my chair.
“You had no idea?”
I shook my head, tears threatening to spill down my face. Wyman handed me his monogrammed
handkerchief. “I mortgaged the Butterfly to pay for Asa’s legal fees. Brannon hasn’t
contributed a dime to paying them off.”
Wyman looked at his hands rather than at my bereaved face. He didn’t like it when
women cried in his presence. He felt a compulsion to make them feel better, but was
damned if he knew what to do in this situation. How do you make a woman feel better
when she finds out that her husband is hiding money from her and has been lying for
over six months?
“How much did he ask for?”
“Half a million.”
“Half a million!!! Good Lord.” I was silent for a while, taking it all in. “What else
do you know? Do you know why he wanted out?”
Wyman tugged at his collar. “Not really.”
“Wyman, don’t you lie to me. We go back a long time. I need to know what’s going on.”
“Jo, he had been acting funny for over a year. At first I thought it was just a middle-age
crisis and would blow over, but it just kept going on. He wasn’t himself. Brannon
was moody and withdrawn. He did his job, but he started complaining about the hours
he had to put in.”
“Did he say anything about Asa?”
“He was resentful. He felt that Asa’s situation had cost the firm jobs, but then would
complain about the long hours. It didn’t make sense.”
“He and Asa were always so close, but after she was arrested, he barely spoke to her.
Brannon was not there for her.”
“He was not the Brannon that we knew for years, that’s for sure.”
“Do you think that Asa’s situation put too much strain on him?”
“It put some but not all. This was going on before Asa got arrested.”
“I think you’re right. He has seemed restless for a long time. Do you know where he
is, Wyman?”
“Aw, Josiah.” Wyman reared back in his chair.
“Come on. Give. I think you know where he is.”
“I don’t want to get in the middle of this.”
“You are in the middle of this, man. Tell me. Where is Brannon?”
Wyman’s Southern patrician looks twisted as he spoke. He liked Josiah and didn’t want
to hurt her. And this was going to hurt like hell. “It is rumored that he is living
in the guest house of Ellen Boudreaux.”
I was sitting in the living room, reading the
Herald-Leader
when I heard the front door being unlocked and someone punching in the alarm code.
Before I could call for Jake, Asa strode into the room.
“Well, it’s about time,” I cried, giving my cheek up for a kiss. “I called such a
long time ago. Where have you been?”
Asa threw her gloves on the end table before plopping down on the couch. “I have been
working on your behalf.”
“Stirring up trouble?”
Asa grinned. “Let’s say I’ve been muddying the water.”
“Ellen is making accusations that you stole into her house and robbed her.”
“Is she now?”
“Did you?”
“Mother, you know that if you have knowledge of a crime, that makes you an accessory
after the fact.”
“Jumping Jehosaphat. Does that mean yes?”
“Change the subject, please. I understand from Jake that Matt is leaping into matrimony
. . . with a woman yet.”
“That’s not all.” It took me the greater part of an hour to tell her about the Addison
DeWitt case.
“So you are Goetz’s spy?”
I reared up. “That’s such a nasty word. People tell me things. I relay that info to
him and he keeps me informed about what O’nan is doing.”
“Does he really? You think you can trust Goetz?”
“Why not?”
“Just wondering out loud.”
I gave Asa a curious look. “Are you holding something back from me?”
“Please don’t grill me. I just got home. I want to take a bath and then a nap.”
“You’re evading me.”
“I swear that after dinner I will tell you about the naughty things I have been up
to.”
The front door opened and Jake walked in. He blanched when he saw Asa.
She gave him a sour look.
“I didn’t see a car outside.”
“I had my driver let me out.”
“I was just doing my perimeter rounds.”
“And you didn’t hear a car on a gravel driveway?”
“No ma’am.”
“Perhaps you should have your hearing checked?”
“Yes ma’am.”
I interrupted what I could tell was the beginning of a scolding. “Jake, why don’t
we barbeque out tonight. It’s such a pretty evening. Let’s get out those steaks we
got from the Farmers’ Market.”
Asa rose from her chair. “I am going to take a nap. Wake me when dinner is ready.”
“Of course, dear.”
Asa gave me a kiss before she left the room. Jake gazed after her.
I couldn’t tell what he was thinking but thought I should leave him to his thoughts.
“I think I will follow suit, Jake.”
“I think that is a good idea, baby. Take a nap so you’ll be fresh for dinner.”
Without the Velcro cast, my usual limp was less pronounced, so I got out of the chair
and into my bedroom on my own. It was a small accomplishment, but it made me feel
good. It wasn’t long before I fell into Morpheus’ arms.
*
I awoke to find Baby’s snout in my face. He licked my nose, knowing that it would
get me out of bed. I stumbled into the bathroom, washed my face, washed my arms, brushed
my teeth, changed my underwear and combed my hair. After putting on a fresh caftan,
I made my way to the patio where Jake had steaks on the grill. Asa was setting the
table for dinner.
“That smells wonderful,” I complimented, peering over Jake’s shoulder at the grill
where steak and shrimp sizzled along with sweet peppers, onions and potatoes.
“Mom, what do you want to drink?” Asa asked on her way into the house.
“Just some tea, dear. I’m not allowed anything else,” I said, mugging a look at Jake.
I quickly patted Jake on the fanny before finding a seat.
Asa came back out with tea and wine. Just moments after she’d filled everyone’s glasses,
Jake put platters of food on the table. Asa let out a gleeful sound. “You know how
much a dinner like this would cost in New York?” she said.
“How much?”
“Too much, Mom.”
“Then maybe it’s time for you to relocate. Maybe come home.”
Asa hesitated before she spoke. “I am thinking of relocating . . . but to London.”
I put down my fork. “What?”
“It won’t be until next year, but I feel that I have to make this move for the company’s
sake.”
“Why?”
“It’s closer to where most of my people are working and it will be less expensive
in the long run to have the company centered in London for the next couple of years.”
“What about your apartment in New York?”
“I’m going to keep it. I had a key made for you. You use it.”
There was a long silence at the table before I started eating again. “It’s not forever?”
“No, just a couple of years and then my contract runs out. I don’t want to renew it
again. I’ll be pulling out then. I’d rather investigate insurance fraud like art thefts
than what I’m doing now. It’s an easier way to make a living.”
“So you are in Afghanistan,” I stated matter of factly.
Asa didn’t reply but instead nibbled on a shrimp.
“Please, Mother, understand.”
“I do. I do. It’s your life.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
I smiled weakly. What else could I do? Asa had made her choice.
“A few weeks in New York doesn’t sound bad, does it, Josiah?” asked Jake, trying to
put a positive spin on Asa’s revelation.
“No, it doesn’t.”
“We could take in a few shows, eat at expensive restaurants, go to museums. Maybe
even take Franklin with us so the two of you could go shopping.”
“Yes, that would be fun.”
“Two years will go like that,” Jake said, snapping his fingers. “You’ll be busy. You’ll
see.”
Asa gave Jake a grateful look before cutting into her steak.
One of the kittens, now almost full grown, jumped on the table. I put her wiggling
body down on the ground. Before giving me a malevolent look, she went over to Baby’s
bowl and started to eat out of it. Her siblings joined her. None of the kittens trusted
me anymore since I’d had them fixed, but I just couldn’t let them run around like
promiscuous minxes.
The only animal I wanted having sex on this farm in the near future was me. And now
I was determined that was going to happen. I was going to go on with my life.
If Asa wanted to throw her life away on military contracts, I was not going to light
a candle in the window and wait for her to come home. I was going to put some miles
on my carriage before the wheels rusted off. It was time to join the dance of life
again.