“If you’re really looking to throw someone under the bus, it should be Robert,” she said at last.
“Riley!” Lacy exclaimed. “You can’t just randomly suggest suspects without a reason.” Jason gave her a look because she was prone to doing the same sort of thing.
“It’s not random. Robert has been acting cagey lately, and he won’t talk to me or look at me now.”
“You realize you’re saying you think your fiancé is capable of murder,” Jason told her.
Riley shrugged one shoulder.
“Riley!” Lacy exclaimed again. “Robert can’t even kill spiders and you’re actually suggesting he may have strangled a woman to death.”
“I guess not,” Riley said, and she sounded almost disappointed. “But somebody did. If it wasn’t the four of us, then who was it?”
“Do you know any reason why any of the rest of them might have wanted Hildy dead?” Jason asked.
“No, but it stands to reason that if she had something on me, then she had something on the rest of them, too,” Riley said.
“Which is exactly why you need to tell the detective you were being blackmailed, because he will come to the same logical conclusion and take a closer look at everyone else,” Jason said.
“I don’t want to,” Riley said, jutting her lower lip in a pout.
“Either you do it, or I will,” Jason said.
“Jason, you would do that to me?” Now the multi-tasking lip was quivering again.
“Without hesitation,” Jason replied. “Don’t try that on me; it annoys me.” He flicked his hand in the general direction of her hard-working expression and she changed it into a frown before turning her back on him completely.
“He’s not as much fun as I remember in high school,” she told Lacy.
“Really? He’s way more fun than I remember,” Lacy said, smiling at him over Riley’s shoulder.
“Hello-o,” Riley said, waving her hand in front of Lacy’s face. “What is your deal? We get it; you have a hot new boyfriend. You can stop the lovey-dovey act now.”
If there was one thing Jason wasn’t, it was Lacy’s boyfriend. But how did she correct that assumption? Not that Riley deserved clarification, but Jason did. Lacy didn’t want him to think she was reading too much into their weekend. While she was thinking it over, Jason spoke.
“It’s not an act; it’s a longing unfulfilled because no matter where we go in the world we can’t get five minutes alone together.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, sighing. “Look, you need to go tell the detective what you just told us and then send your fiancé in here. We have some questions for him.”
“I don’t…”Riley began, but Jason interrupted her.
“I wasn’t asking; I was telling. Go.” He pointed to the door and Riley stood.
“It’s a good thing for you that I like strong men,” she said. With one last swish of her hair, she swept regally from the room.
Jason waited to speak again until she was gone. “You know, before I met her, I never would have believed you’re the normal one in your family.” He lay back on the bed, tugging Lacy with him. “Something tells me growing up as the oldest Steele sister wasn’t a lot of fun for you.”
“It had its moments. There were some good times.”
“What about all the other times?” Jason asked.
“The other times I ate, which explains my chubbiness in high school,” Lacy said.
“You were cute,” he replied.
Lacy shook her head. “Revisionist history is not allowed. You can’t pretend you had some secret crush on me back then.”
“I didn’t mean you were cute like, ‘Oh, there goes that Lacy girl with the clarinet; check out her braces—she’s hot.’ But you
were
cute. You had a kind of geeky ferocity. It was endearing.”
“A geeky ferocity?” She curled into a ball, facing him.
“Yeah.” He swiped an errant hair off her face and left his hand resting on her ear, which she hadn’t realized was cold until he touched it. “Like you thought we mean jocks might form a pack and attack you. You were defensive, but you were also completely defenseless, like a lamb with a grumpy expression.”
“You jocks
were
mean,” Lacy said.
“I was never mean to you.” He reached for her hand, twining their fingers together.
“You didn’t notice me enough for that to be possible.”
“I’m trying to make up for that by noticing you extra now,” he said. “Do you think your weasel ex is actually going to show up so we can ask him a few questions?”
“I would say there’s a high probability that Riley didn’t give him the message. She doesn’t like to be told what to do,” Lacy said.
“A family trait.”
“Are you making fun of me, Babycakes?” She tapped his chest and he looked down, scowling.
“I can’t believe that not only did you get me to wear this, but that I’m still wearing it for some reason. What is wrong with me?”
“It’s official now: you
are
a kept man.”
“Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation talking, but I find that I don’t mind so much anymore.” He yawned, and a few minutes later they were asleep.
Lacy woke to the sound of the shower. She looked to the spot Jason had been and saw her t-shirt instead, the word
Babycakes
staring back at her. She stood, gathering her clothes and toiletries in order to take her turn in the shower when he was finished.
The water stopped flowing and a few minutes later Jason opened the door to her bedroom and poked his head inside. “Oh, hey, you’re up.”
Lacy nodded at him, mesmerized by the curls in his still-wet hair.
“You feeling better?” he asked.
She nodded again, knowing she should use words and form sentences but unable to remember how. He was standing there looking as good as she had ever seen him when she knew for a fact that she had morning breath and some sleep gunk in the corner of her eye, to say nothing of her mass of tangled hair and pale, makeup-free face.
“I smell food, so I’m hoping that means breakfast is ready,” Jason said.
Lacy scrambled for the appropriate response. What soap did he use? She could smell it filtering across the room. “Food. Good. Hungry.”
Jason chuckled and backed up into the bathroom. “Okay, let’s see if maybe a shower helps you function again. I’m going to scout for something to cover your hair since the scarf is gone. Bathroom’s all yours.” He went into his room and closed the door and Lacy slumped against the dresser. At least he had seemed to chalk her idiotic behavior up to sleepiness and not a weak-kneed reaction to the sight of him fresh from the shower. What would it be like to wake up to that every morning for the rest of her life? And where had that thought come from?
Why was it that she had been running from Jason and a relationship for months because of the trauma caused by Robert, and now that she was a hundred feet from her ex-fiancé she started thinking marriage and commitment again? Shouldn’t she instead remember how much he had hurt her? How much the breakup had altered her psyche, turning her from a soft-hearted idealist to a jaded commitment-phobe?
The shower did bring a sting of mental clarity. She was most likely thinking about marriage because she was at a bridal shower. Or at least it had been a bridal shower before things turned gothic. It was perfectly natural to think about one’s future when in the presence of a happily engaged couple, only Robert and Riley didn’t seem happy. Lacy hadn’t yet had a chance to process her last odd conversation with Robert, but now that she did she had no idea what to do. Should she tell Riley? Would Riley even believe her, or would she think she was making it up to seek revenge?
Lacy had the sudden urge to jump out of the shower and call Tosh. But then she realized she could just as easily talk to Jason. Why did she feel the need to compartmentalize them into best friend and eye candy guy? Jason was her friend, and he cared about the minutia of her life as much as Tosh.
She finished her shower, dressed, and applied her makeup. The upside of being forced to cover her head was that she didn’t have to dry her hair. She had just finished braiding it when Jason tapped on the door.
“Lacy, are you ready?”
“I’m ready.” She opened the door and blinked up at him in surprise because he was wearing the expression she had worn earlier. Sometimes she forgot the fact that this man was somehow as attracted to her as she was to him. “What did you find for me to wear?”
He pulled himself out of whatever daze he was suffering and held out his hand. “Before you say anything you should know that this was all I could find. Apparently it belongs to Chuck and Sue’s granddaughter.” He plopped the hat on her head, shoving it low over her brow.
Lacy turned to survey herself in the mirror. “This is retribution for the t-shirt, isn’t it?” The hat was a wool knit sock monkey. With earflaps. The earflaps had braided fringes that hung down to her chest.
“Nah, that’s just an added bonus.” Jason said. “There’s a certain irony here. The monkey might think you’re his mom and finally make up with you. This could be the start of something big.”
Lacy gave herself another disparaging glance in the mirror. She looked ridiculous. “I don’t think a monkey hat was the accessory Yves St. Laurent had in mind when he designed this outfit.”
Jason rested his arm on her shoulders and looked in the mirror, too. “I think you look cute. Very, er, special.”
“You’re enjoying my misery a little too much, Cantor.”
He turned to her, cupping her face in his hands. “I wasn’t kidding; you do look cute.” He kissed her and let her go. It had been a brief kiss, more of a peck, but it still shook Lacy. She was used to the strange flare of passion that existed between them. Casual encounters confused and delighted her because they were somehow deeper and rifer with meaning than the toe-curling kisses they occasionally shared. The sort of kiss Jason just gave her spoke of friendship, intimacy, and possession--the sort of kiss a man gives his girlfriend.
She trailed quietly behind him, attempting to hide behind his back as they approached the dining room, but hiding was futile. Everyone stopped eating and stared at her head, even Emeril Lagasse who was sitting at the table eating a bowl of fruit. Lacy flinched when it screeched, but it didn’t attack. In fact, it almost looked and sounded like it was laughing at her.
“Who cooked?” Jason asked, and the spell was broken as everyone tore their gaze from her head and toward the table loaded with food.
“The cook,” Aunt Enid replied.
“Where was she last night?” Jason asked. He held Lacy’s chair and sat beside her, unfurling his napkin and laying it over his lap.
“She left just after supper and, before you ask, she doesn’t have a key,” Aunt Enid said.
“Does anyone else have a key to the house?” Jason asked.
“No. I have a gardener, but he doesn’t have access to the house, and he doesn’t work on the weekends.” She sighed, clearly distraught over the fact that one of her houseguests was a murderer. Or maybe she was sad that Hildy was dead.
Everyone was subdued. Even Riley, who Lacy could have sworn would delight over a chance to make fun of the monkey hat, sat quietly with her head down, picking at her food.
“I wish I was out on the water right now,” Bob said, stirring his oatmeal without taking a bite.
“I wish you were under the water right now,” Rita said.
“You’d be with me, ball and chain,” he replied, but their parries were halfhearted and lacking their usual volume and vigor.
As breakfast wound down, Jason leaned over to whisper in Lacy’s ear. “Bring your ex to your room; we need to ask him some questions.”
She nodded and stood, pushing back from the table. “Robert, may I speak with you please?”
Everyone at the table perked up at the possibility of intrigue in their midst. “Okay,” Robert replied, and he sounded wary. Maybe he thought she wanted to ream him some more over his unorthodox middle-of-the-night visit.
Robert followed her to her bedroom, not realizing Jason was with them until he brought up the rear and closed the door behind their trio. Lacy could see Robert getting defensive, so she preempted him. “We wanted to ask you some questions about the murder.”
He paled, taking a step back until he bumped the dresser. “The murder? What would I know about the murder?”
“We think Hildy was blackmailing people,” Lacy said.
Robert swallowed hard and looked away. “Oh. That.”
“So she was blackmailing you,” Jason said.
Robert scowled at him. “Why are you here? I don’t have to tell you anything. If Lacy wants to talk to me, then I’ll answer her questions. And then maybe we can have that talk.” He gave Lacy a pointed glance.
“You don’t get to set the terms of this meeting,” Jason said. “Not after all that you’ve put Lacy through.”
“What’s the matter?” Robert challenged. “Are you afraid if she spends a few minutes alone in my presence you’re going to lose her? Your relationship must not be as solid as you think if you’re that insecure.”
“Our relationship is none of your business but, while we’re on the subject, it’s just killing you that’s she’s moved on, isn’t it? You really thought you were it for her—the love of her life. Newsflash: the so-called love of someone’s life doesn’t cheat on her and dump her for her sister.”
“And you think the love of her life is you? Some small town cop?” He chuckled a nasty little laugh and shook his head before turning his attention on Lacy. “You can’t tell me you’re actually happy back home, living with your grandmother, and dating this guy.” He motioned toward Jason.
“I…I am,” Lacy said, stammering with surprise because she meant it.
“No,” Robert said. “You love
New York
. You love me; I know you do.” His words were assertive, but his tone held a question. There was no need for her to stroke his ego, but neither did she want to hurt him. She had finally found freedom, and nothing he said or did could hurt her anymore, allowing her to be as magnanimous as she wished.
“You’re right on both counts. I still love New York, and sometimes I miss it a lot, especially when I run into my grandmother’s friends who take a certain and perverse pleasure in rooting their noses in my life. And I did love you, but I don’t love you anymore. You made that impossible when you irrevocably broke my heart. You’re not the man I thought you were, and you’re not the man I want.” It was incredibly freeing, not only to say the words, but to believe them. Somehow she had done the impossible; she had exorcised Robert from her life. “Now, we do have some questions that we really need answers to,” she added, her tone softening as he sank into the chair beside the dresser.