Evelyn David - Sullivan Investigations 02 - Murder Takes the Cake (26 page)

“
Shouldn’t you put…”

Rachel waved off her concern. She coughed a few times, then took a swig of the bottle of water next to her.
“I’m fine, really I am. How’s the building?”

Kathleen stole a glance over at the remains of her family business.
“The basement has a lot of fire damage. Apparently the bastards doused the casket supply room with gasoline. Thank God, Mac made us hardwire the smoke alarms directly into the fire department. There’s a ton of water and smoke damage, but it looks like structurally, the place is fine. We won’t know until we can get some engineers out here for an inspection.”

“
I’m so sorry,” Rachel murmured. “I should have…”

Kathleen looked stricken.
“What are you apologizing for? You almost died because of us. I’m so very sorry this happened.”

Rachel grabbed Kathleen
‘s hand. “No, no, it’s not your fault either. Who are these guys?”

“
Jeff thinks this is part of the Dalton group who has been pressuring him to sell out. Sons of bitches wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’s giving the cops all the information. Besides you were the hero of this whole night. Breaking out of the locked closet, crawling through the air-conditioning vent, dropping from the ceiling, then letting out the air in the getaway car. You were a regular MacGyver.”

Rachel chuckled.
“Yeah, and every bone in my body is screaming, ‘what the hell were you thinking?’”

“
Kathleen, Katie, where are you?” The two women looked in the direction of Jeff’s voice. They could see him stop for a moment and chat with a young firefighter, offer him a grateful handshake, then work his way over to the ambulance.

“
Rachel, the paramedic tells me you’re giving her a hard time. She advises that you go to the hospital–”

“
No.” Rachel didn’t let him finish his thought. “I hate hospitals. I feel fine and just want to go home, take a shower, and go to bed.”

Kathleen glanced at her husband.
“I agree completely.”

Rachel nodded, grateful for the support.

“You need to take a shower and go to bed,” Kathleen continued, “except you’ll do it in our house. You’re going to stay with us for a couple of days.”

“
Don’t be ridiculous.”

Rachel started to stand, but dizzily sank back down.

“Listen to me,” Jeff said quietly. “They’re going to pick up those bastards, I’m sure of it. But until they’re in custody, until they’ve arrested old man Dalton himself, you might be in danger. Stay with us. Luckily I’ve got our computer system backed up off-site, but I’m still going to need your help figuring out where we’re going to operate over the next few months.”

Kathleen, who had been listening to her husband intently, swiped at some tears on her face.
“You’ve already got a plan, don’t you?”

Jeff smiled at his wife.
“Always, sweet Katie, always. We’ll be fine.”

He reached down and offered Rachel his arm.
“Come on, Rachel, let’s get you home.”

***

Rachel tightened the belt of the borrowed pink chenille robe. She couldn’t believe she’d slept until after 10 A.M. She smiled to herself. Even her grandmother, raised on a farm where sleeping until 7 A.M. was considered slothful, might have given her a pass this morning. Escaping death by fire pretty much gives you a get out of jail card for at least 24 hours.

The house was filled with the smells of Thanksgiving. She walked through the dining room. Blue and white bone china, sterling silver flatware, and
Waterford goblets for water and wine, all atop a starched white damask tablecloth, stood ready for the feast. Rachel glanced down at the hand-written place cards. There, on the plate to the right of Kathleen’s at the head of the table, was a card with her name. She checked to see who would be seated next to her: Mac Sullivan.

“
How are you feeling this morning?”

Kathleen, dressed in jeans and a
Georgetown sweatshirt, placed a floral arrangement of fall flowers, yellow, orange, and white giant chrysanthemums, interspersed with fall leaves, in the center of the table. Sterling silver candlesticks with snow-white candles flanked the centerpiece.

Rachel smiled.
“I’m surprised at how good I feel this morning. I mean my throat is raw and I’m stiff, but I feel, sort of like.…”

“
You dodged a bullet?”

Rachel laughed.
“Yeah. Like it’s Thanksgiving morning and I have a lot for which to be thankful.”

A wet nose licked her hand. Rachel glanced down to greet Whiskey, tail wagging furiously.

“Hey girl,” Rachel whispered. She ran her hand down the long, furry back, and scratched behind Whiskey’s ears. “What are you doing here?”

“
I’m babysitting,” Kathleen explained. “Come in to the kitchen and have some coffee. I’ve got some cinnamon buns if you’re in the mood.”

Rachel followed Kathleen into the large, bright kitchen. The counters were covered with platters waiting to be filled, and mixing bowls holding food in various stages of prep. Kathleen filled a mug with coffee and passed it to Rachel.

“Sugar, fake sugar, milk?”

Rachel waved her off.
“I’m fine, thanks. Please don’t bother with me. Only question I’ve got is: Do you know where my clothes are?”

Kathleen laughed and walked to the far end of the kitchen. She pulled open the bi-fold doors, hiding the O
‘Herlihy family laundry center. She took the neatly folded pile of Rachel’s clothes off the dryer.

“
Your stuff reeked of smoke.”

“
And sweat.” Rachel laughed. “Thank you so much. You didn’t have to.”

Now it was Kathleen
‘s turn to wave off the concern. “No problem. I think my washer turns on automatically every day.”

Rachel sighed.
“I know what you mean. When Sam was still at home.…”

She didn
‘t finish the thought. She missed her son, who didn’t even know she’d been in danger.

Kathleen grabbed a mug of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. She motioned to Rachel to join her.

Rachel sipped her coffee, then looked around. “Where is everyone? The house seems too quiet.”

Kathleen ticked off a status report.
“Bridget met Josh and his family at the hotel for breakfast. She swore she’d be back here by noon to help. Sean was out of here by 8 A.M., said something about painting JJ’s apartment. I’ve got no clue what that’s about. Jeff met Mac at the police station at 7:30. Apparently, the cops picked up the thugs that grabbed you and they’re singing faster than an opera star on speed. The police will want a formal statement from you tomorrow.”

Rachel nodded.
“So was it the Dalton group?”

“
Yep. The cops were getting a warrant for old man Dalton and his idiot sons this morning. With any luck, those bastards will be eating spam on toast for their Thanksgiving meal.”

Rachel felt even more relaxed knowing the culprits were in custody.
“Where are Jeff and Mac now? Are they still at the stationhouse?”

Kathleen nibbled at the edge of a cinnamon bun, and then passed a piece to Rachel and another to Whiskey who was hovering nearby.

“They both came back here for breakfast and now Jeff is meeting a friend of ours who’s an engineer at the building, and Mac…”

“
What about Mac?”

Kathleen sported a mischievous grin.
“Well, first, Mr. Sullivan left you a message he made me promise to deliver.”

Rachel arched an eyebrow.

Kathleen pulled out a piece of paper from her jeans. “I wanted to make sure I got his exact words. I quote: ‘Tell Rachel Brenner that if she ever pulls another crazy stunt like last night and doesn’t call me, she can buy her own damn crab cakes and blue flowers’.”

Kathleen laughed uproariously.
“What blue flowers?”

Rachel cheeks were almost as red as her friend
‘s fiery hair. “Hydrangeas, my favorite.”

Kathleen wiped her eyes, then looked at Rachel.
“He was really worried, you know. You’re not going to break his heart, are you?”

Rachel shook her head.
“More likely mine will get trampled, don’t you think? Looks like Whiskey is the only one he lets get close.”

The dog, upon hearing her name, put her head in Rachel
‘s lap, waiting for another round of ear scratching. Rachel obliged.

Kathleen stood up and wiped her hands on her jeans.
“Up until now I’d say that was true. He’s got a heart the size of Wyoming, but lets very few people see that. But in the last few weeks, I’m seeing a side of Mac Sullivan that maybe only my kids have ever seen. You’re good for him Rachel Brenner.”

Rachel didn
‘t think her cheeks could get any redder. She could feel her heart starting to pound, like it had the previous night when she was in danger. Maybe she still was.

Kathleen started peeling the pile of potatoes by the sink.
“I’ve got to get these cleaned and cooked. Finish up the salad, defrost the cookies…”

Rachel got hold of her emotions.
“I’m in the way. I’ll just get dressed and call a cab.”

Kathleen grinned.
“Not on a bet. The table’s already set for you.”

“
No, no, I couldn’t possibly. Snickers is probably thinking she’s never going to get another meal.”

“
The last time I saw that watch cat of yours, she looked like she could miss a meal or two and not suffer a bit. But to keep her from shredding your drapes in protest, I’ll have Sean make a run to your house later and feed her.” Kathleen stood her ground. “Frankly, there’s not a chance on earth I’m facing Mac Sullivan today and explaining how I let you go home without staying for dinner or at least talking to him. Now why don’t you go finish your coffee, then you’ll get dressed and you can handle the salad. Okay?”

Rachel took a deep breath and nodded. She sipped her coffee and noticed something strange on the refrigerator door.
“What’s that?”

Kathleen looked up from her pile of potato scraps. She followed Rachel
‘s finger to the photo magnets of O’Herlihy family and friends on the refrigerator door and laughed. “It’s Mac Sullivan cutting Jeff’s ego down to a manageable size. The two of them were horsing around this morning. First Jeff put that picture of himself–don’t you love the Burger King crown–in the center and arranged all the others in a circle, sort of like we were his loyal subjects. Mac switched it up and put me in the center–the one with my hair in rollers and insisted this was the real power behind the throne. Jeff, the sentimental goofball, then put that photo of Bridget and Josh in the center, with all of us in a circle around them.”

Rachel walked over to the refrigerator took a closer look.
“Who’s the older man with the mustache? He’s in almost all the group shots.”

“
That’s my Uncle Albert. Don’t know how he does that! He’s related to both Jeff and me–he’s second cousin to Jeff’s fourth cousin. Something like that. I’ve lost track. Anyway I think he’s the only one in the photos who is related to everyone else. I even think he might have been related by marriage to some relative of Mac’s mother. Can you believe it? It would take someone with a big graph to figure it all out.”

“
Looks like someone changed the arrangement again after Jeff. I don’t see any pattern.”

Kathleen picked up the peeler and returned to the shrinking pile of potatoes.
“Mac’s responsible for that mess. He played with the photo magnets a few minutes, then mumbled something about circles and common denominators. I think he said something about basic geometry, but I’ve got no clue what he was talking about. Anyway he hightailed it out of here, leaving me with Whiskey and a promise to be here for dinner.”

***

“I thought we were closed today! Turkey. Gobble. Gobble. You know, the whole pilgrim celebration thing?”

Mac, who was sitting on the edge of her desk, laughed.
“I can tell you were really into the celebration. What’s with the beige paint?”

JJ glanced down at her overalls, the same pair she
‘d worn when painting the office two months before. “It’s not beige, it’s dusty mocha sand. I’m redecorating my apartment.”

“
Sorry, but this can’t wait. In fact, I need you to finish the slide show for Bridget’s rehearsal dinner right away.”

“
Right away? As in now?” She dumped her backpack behind her desk and sat down. “Why?”

“
I want to premiere it today.” He grinned. “Maybe I’ll wait until after dinner, so I get a hot meal, but definitely before dessert. If a fight breaks out, there will be more pie for me.”

Chapter 20

“
Bridget, what in God’s name are you doing? I sent you up to the attic thirty minutes ago,” Kathleen called up the stairs. “You were supposed to get Grandma’s relish dish and come right back.”

When she got no answer, she let out a snort that sounded remarkably like Marge Simpson. Red hair flying and temper boiling over, she marched up the stairs, each stomp of her foot announcing her exasperation with the whole O
‘Herlihy clan. “Your in-laws will be here in less than an hour, your father is out meeting with contractors, Sean has taken himself over to JJ’s, and I need some help with the salads. What the hell are you doing?”

She found Bridget seated cross-legged on the floor, a box of family photos on her lap.
“Oh, for crying out loud. Now you decide to get sentimental?”

Bridget glanced up at her mother and went back to sorting through the photos.

“Did you get the relish dish or not? You know your father says it’s not a holiday without it.” Kathleen looked impatiently at her daughter.

“
I couldn’t find it. It’s not on the shelf.” Bridget continued to leaf through the photos, while Kathleen climbed over some old suitcases and camp trunks to get to a smaller room with a wall of shelves.

“
I don’t see any photos of your wedding to Dad. Why didn’t you have a wedding dress?” Bridget’s voice was soft, but worried.

Kathleen stopped short, then moved slowly to the far end of the shelving where she kept crystal pieces she only occasionally used.
“You know your Dad and I eloped. You don’t wear a long white dress when climbing down a ladder. I wore a pale blue seersucker suit with a corsage of pink sweetheart roses your Dad got me from Ruxton Florists.” She stopped for a moment, caught up in the memory. She shook her head and reached for the dish on the top shelf.

“
Didn’t you want a church wedding?”

“
Not at the time.” Kathleen considered whether she’d need the large stoneware platter, then tucked it under her arm, just in case.

“
Who married you? Was Grandpa there?”

Kathleen emerged from the small room with the platter and relish dish.
“Can we wander down memory lane later? I’ve got a house full of people coming, a Jell-O mold that won’t gel, and a pan full of lumpy gravy.”

Bridget shook her head.
“I was wondering about your wedding, that’s all. Didn’t you take any photos at all?” Bridget sifted through a few more pictures, setting aside several in a pile next to her.

“
You know we have a photo of that day. It’s on my bureau where it’s been for almost 30 years. What’s this all about?” Kathleen stopped in front of her daughter, torn between a growing concern for her Thanksgiving dinner and a daughter who seemed intent on visiting the past at a most inopportune time.

“
Were you happy on your wedding day?” Bridget finally looked up from the photos. Kathleen always thought this particular child of hers had x-ray vision, an ability to see right through her. Those brilliant blue eyes, even as a baby, seemed able to cut through the stories, fibs, and tall tales parents tell to protect their children.

She paused, hoping to postpone this conversation, but those blue eyes wouldn
‘t let her off the hook.

“
Not really.” Kathleen finally admitted because she couldn’t ever lie to this one. “I loved your father, but it wasn’t the kind of wedding I thought I’d have.”

Bridget didn
‘t seem surprised, which in turn, didn’t surprise Kathleen. Mother and daughter, on the surface, had little in common, and yet, they’d always been soul mates, demanding and recognizing the truth, however, brutal.

“
So why did you elope? You couldn’t have been pregnant because Maura wasn’t born for another two years.” Bridget voice dropped almost to a whisper. She twisted her engagement ring round and round her finger, the oversized diamond sparkling even in the dim attic light.

Kathleen could see Bridget struggling to figure out the puzzle. For some reason, she needed to understand her parents
‘ marriage, but Kathleen knew at least one piece of the puzzle was missing. She sighed, knowing the gravy would get lumpier, but some explanations needed to be shared. She sat down on the floor and wrapped her arms around her daughter. Bridget scooted closer, like she did when she was seven and had just come in from a fight with the mean neighborhood girls.

“
I was pregnant.”

Kathleen didn
‘t know the last time she had surprised any of her kids. The look on Bridget’s face would almost have been funny, except it wasn’t. Kathleen couldn’t tell if the girl was embarrassed at the thought that her parents had sex or astonished that her competent mother could screw up like everybody else.

“
But Maura wasn’t born until….” Bridget repeated, like it would change her mother’s statement.

“
I wasn’t pregnant with Maura.”

“
Oh.” Bridget looked momentarily confused, then gave her mother a small, tremulous smile in silent support.

Kathleen brushed her daughter
‘s cheek and leaned back against the attic wall. “I was nineteen, finishing my sophomore year of college, and sooo in love with this red-haired hothead who had a million schemes.”

“
Even then he had a temper and a plan?” Bridget grinned.

“
Yep, but also a kindness and gentleness I’ve never seen in another man.” Kathleen relaxed for a moment, then gave a small laugh.

“
We’d screwed up, literally and figuratively, and I was pregnant. My father was furious and threatened to kill Jeff. My mother was so busy crossing herself and saying prayers for my soul that she couldn’t look at me without bursting into tears. Her solution was to send me to my Aunt Ida and have her hide me like I’d committed a crime, which in her mind, I had. But Jeff, God bless him, Jeff had it all figured out. He and Mac showed up at my house at midnight with a corsage and a ring. We drove up to Elkton, Maryland, where there was no waiting period, and were married by a Justice of the Peace. Mac took that one photo of us and then took a Greyhound bus back to D.C., leaving us the car. We went to Rehoboth Beach for a two-day honeymoon. I cried for the first day of it, and Jeff kept telling me in that fake Irish brogue of his, ‘Kathleen, me girl, we’ll have a grand life’.”

Bridget brushed the tears from her cheek.
“What happened to the baby?”

A shadow fell across Kathleen
‘s face. She went on, her voice barely a whisper, remembering those times, transported back 30 years. “I miscarried about a week later. I hadn’t wanted that baby and when I lost it, I was sure God was punishing me. Jeff cried like a baby himself. He was positive he hadn’t taken good enough care of me. We were a mess, a holy mess. Jeff’s father came over to our one room apartment. Mac had stopped by to drop off some dinner. Anyway, your grandfather insisted we get a divorce. ‘She trapped you once; get out before she gets pregnant again’.”

Bridget
‘s gasp shook Kathleen from her reverie. She hadn’t meant to share that part of the story. She sat up straighter, wiped away the tears that had fallen without her knowing it, and gave a shaky smile.

“
It was like a bull seeing a red flag. Jeff would have punched his father if Mac hadn’t stopped him. Told him to get out and never come back. They were both two stubborn mules. They didn’t talk again until Maura was born. I brought the baby to see him and asked him to come to the baptism. Wasn’t sure he’d show, but he did. That day he begged Jeff to take over the funeral home business.”

The two women sat in silence, Kathleen stroking Bridget
‘s hair like she had comforted the scared seven-year-old those many years earlier. There was one more piece of the story that still needed to be told. Kathleen took a deep breath, then moved slightly away from her daughter so she could face her and see into her eyes.

“
I’m sorry I’ve been pushing you to have the wedding I never had. It was stupid. But let’s be clear about something. I married your father in a suit that cost $29, and I still wear the ring he bought for $19.95. We got married under pressure and far too young, but I knew that day and all these years later that there was no finer man on this earth. Is Joshua Lasky worthy of you Bridget O’Herlihy? Because you deserve the very best and I won’t have you settle for anything less.”

Bridget held her mother
‘s gaze for what seemed like an eternity, then glanced away. The young woman shook her head, as if clearing away the storm clouds that seemed to weigh heavily in the attic.

“
Josh loves me. It’ll be great.” The tone of her voice brooked no further discussion. Bridget stood up and a pile of photos fell to the floor.

Kathleen shooed her daughter away.
“I’ll get them. Take these dishes down to the kitchen. I’ll be right there.”

Bridget grabbed the china and headed downstairs. Kathleen picked up the photos scattered on the floor and stared at the one on top. It was a picture of the whole O
‘Herlihy family, at Rehoboth Beach, laughing over something off-camera. Kathleen couldn’t remember when the photo had been taken, but she smiled at the joy she saw in all the faces. It didn’t seem like they had laughed like that in a long time.

***

His arm ached. The champagne Kathleen had pressed upon him wasn’t doing the trick. Mac spied the bottle of Macallan on the buffet. Maybe it would take the edge off. He poured himself a finger full of the liquid gold and sipped it slowly, savoring the burn as it went down his throat. He eyed the bottle for a refill, then passed. He needed to keep alert.

Sean had disappeared almost as soon as he had opened the front door. Jeff was in the basement, bringing up the folding chairs, as ordered by his wife. Kathleen, Rachel, and the stepmother–he could never remember her name–were in the kitchen, doing last minute fixings to the enormous dinner scheduled to land on the dining room table in fifteen minutes. Kathleen was a stickler for mealtimes.
“Otherwise you end up with paste for mashed potatoes and turkey jerky.” They would sit down at the table and enjoy themselves, even if it killed them. Mac shook his head. No more killer jokes, too many deaths had taken the humor out of them.

Across the room, he watched as Josh snapped shut his cell phone and stalked over to the fireplace where Bridget stood. He saw undisguised anger in the young man
‘s face. Josh spoke in angry whispers, gesturing wildly. He heard snippets, something about ‘an unbelievable betrayal,’ and ‘career in ruins.’ Bridget looked like she could barely get in a word of explanation.

“
Smooth and silky, with a fire that kicks you in the ass. The Irish called it aqua vitae, the water of life.” Confused by the unexpected lecture on single malt whiskey, Mac tore his eyes away from the young couple. Paul Lasky poured a brandy snifter full of the high-priced liquor. Leo Lasky stood next to his twin, still nursing the same glass of champagne he’d been given twenty minutes earlier.

Suddenly, Josh headed for the hallway. Bridget tried to stop him, but he shook her off.
“Dad, Uncle Leo, get Helen. We need to go…now.”

“
Go? Why?” Paul Lasky eyes darted between his son and Bridget.

“
Thanks to Bridget’s hysteria and her overprotective godfather,” Josh stared daggers at Mac, “I don’t have a job anymore. Apparently, Sullivan called my boss this morning. Quizzed him on where I was last Sunday.”

Leo Lasky frowned,
“What happened on Sunday?”

“
That’s the day Bridget claims someone tried to run her over. More of her egotistical paranoia on display.” Josh spat out the words in disgust. “Now she’s screwed up my career.”

Silent tears rolled down Bridget
‘s face and she angrily swiped them away. “I didn’t–”

“
You told Bridget you were at the office all day, but your boss denies you were there, isn’t that right?” Mac interrupted. “Seems to me you’re the one screwing around with your career.”

“
I don’t have to account to you for my time,” Josh countered.

“
Where were you then?” Bridget asked. “Or don’t you have to tell me either?”

“
Are you seriously suggesting I tried to kill you? Isn’t it bad enough that thanks to him,” Josh whirled around and stabbed a finger at Mac, “my boss now thinks he has a murderer on his staff? I was told my contract is up next week and they’re not going to extend it.”

Leo Lasky frowned.
“I’m sure I can–”

Josh shook his head.
“No. We agreed I would make it on my own at the firm. No special favors.”

Bridget glanced over at Mac, then took a deep breath and pushed on.
“Look, I’m sorry about your job. But you swore to me you were at the office all afternoon. Now you’re angry because we found out you weren’t? So where were you? Did you send me the dead rat?”

“
I didn’t send one and I don’t think you ever got one,” Josh yelled.