Hollyhock Ridge (19 page)

“Claire Fitzpatrick,” Anne Marie said, in a warmer tone than
Claire expected. “I’ve been thinking about you all day; I’m not surprised to
hear from you.”

“Have they called you about Knox?”

“I got the call this afternoon,” Anne Marie said. “I wasn’t
shocked, of course. My ex-husband has created quit the deficit of karma,
wouldn’t you say? The universe has a way of rebalancing such inequalities.”

“Nonetheless, I’m sorry for your loss,” Claire said. “Had
you heard from him lately?”

“He called me this morning to ask for money,” Anne Marie
said. “I told him that until after the trial I thought we should limit our
communications to those made through our attorneys. I don’t want to compromise
my case by making what might look like an inappropriate remuneration.”

“I guess he didn’t like that.”

“Patience has never been one of Knox’s virtues, if he had
any to begin with.”

“Did he tell you anything else?”

“He told me Meredith was skulking around town, and that made
him nervous. He said Trick was driving him crazy, as usual, and Stuart was
distancing himself in a way that concerned him. I think he was finally facing
the consequences of his actions, and realizing he could no longer maneuver his
way out of the destiny he had created for himself.”

“Jeremy implicated you and Knox in Mamie Rodefeffer’s
death,” Claire said. “Aren’t
you
worried about that?”

“No, darling,” Anne Marie said. “My guides tell me not to
worry, so I don’t. I didn’t do anything wrong, and my karma is balanced, so
there’s nothing to fear. My attorneys are expensive and aggressive, as well, and
that never hurts.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Claire said.

“I had the weirdest vision of you today, during my afternoon
meditation,” Anne Marie said. “You were in a small boat on the ocean in a storm,
and there were two drowning men, one clinging to each side, begging you to save
them. There was only room in the boat for one man.”

“What did I do?”

“You were paralyzed with indecision,” Anne Marie said. “One
man was young and had a family at home who needed him, and the other was old
and had no one.”

“But what did I do?”

“I don’t know,” Anne Marie said. “That was all it consisted
of, just this horrible choice you had to make, and you being unable to make
it.”

“Do you see anything else?”

“I’m not really on tonight,” Anne Marie said. “I had a
veggie pizza with a lot of onions and peppers on it so my instrument is all
wonky.”

“Well, thanks for the vision, I guess,” Claire said. “Was
there anyone Knox was afraid of, particularly, that he mentioned?”

“Other than the FBI, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“He was feeling pretty paranoid,” Anne Marie said. “He
seemed to think the senator’s people might be out to get him. Senator Bayard
hadn’t been returning Knox’s phone calls, and Knox said there’s been a dark car
following him around town. That may only have been his guilty conscience
manifesting as a hallucination.”

Claire didn’t tell Anne Marie she had seen the car up close
and personal, and it was very real.

“Anyone else?”

“Oh, you know Knox,” Anne Marie said. “He makes enemies like
Mother Nature makes dandelions.”

“Do you think he will contact you from the other side?”

“Quite possibly,” Anne Marie said. “He may not even know
he’s passed, yet.”

Claire shuddered as she thought of Knox as a hungry ghost,
wandering around Rose Hill, looking for weak people to take over. What would he
miss doing most?

“It’s uncharitable to say, but his death may mean the end of
my legal problems,” Anne Marie said.

“Has the FBI been bothering you?”

“Not a bit,” Anne Marie said. “I assume they’re listening in
right now, so I’d just like to thank them for that.”

Claire felt her stomach turn as she realized that Anne Marie
was probably right.

“Don’t worry,” Anne Marie said. “I see a bright light
shining all around you. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Except for that boat
thing; that was freaky.”

Claire was already in bed when her phone rang. She smiled
when she saw Scott’s name.

“Hey, buddy!” she said when she answered. “How’s it going
down there?”

“I can’t leave you all alone for five minutes before people
are running around getting themselves killed,” he said. “What in the hell was
Pip doing up at Knox’s?”

Claire explained it all to Scott, and he was silent for a
few moments when she finished.

“Are you still there?” she asked.

“Do you think I should come home early?” he asked.

“No, don’t do that,” Claire said. “You’ll be back on Sunday,
and surely things won’t get any worse by then.”

“How’s Laurie doing?”

Claire paused.

“Uh oh,” Scott said. “Dammit. I was hoping he would keep it
together.”

Claire told Scott what she had found at his house that
afternoon.

“I hate to hear that,” Scott said.

“He needs to go to rehab,” Claire said, “but he thinks he’ll
lose his job if he does.”

“He probably would,” Scott said. “I wish that wasn’t a real
possibility but it is.”

“I don’t know how to help him,” Claire said. “What can I
do?”

“I don’t know,” Scott said. “I’ll talk to him when I get
back, but I don’t know how much good it will do.”

“He’s not doing it on the job.”

“You know as well as I do that job is 24-7.”

“I know.”

“He starts in Pendleton on Monday?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do,” Scott said. “Listen, the
reason I called is because I couldn’t get ahold of Laurie and I didn’t want to
call Sarah, but I have some information that might help in the investigation
into Knox’s murder.”

“How can I help?”

“When you see Laurie, ask him to call me,” Scott said. “A
couple weeks ago I broke up a fight between Meredith and Knox, and she told me
she’d like to slit his throat, or something of that nature. I don’t remember
exactly, but when I heard how he died, well …”

“I’ll tell him to call.”

“Have you seen Meredith around town this week?”

“I thought I saw someone in the tea room but I couldn’t tell
if it was her or just a reflection on the window,” she said. “Patrick said she
was talking to Trick about selling it, so she must be around here somewhere.”

“I wonder if she inherits anything or has any insurance
policies on him.”

“I don’t know,” Claire said. “I could try to find out.”

“I’m just thinking out loud,” Scott said. “Don’t get
involved in this.”

“I know Pip didn’t kill him,” Claire said.

“Oh, I never thought he did,” Scott said. “Pip’s a
make-love-not-war kinda guy.”

“Thank you,” Claire said. “I was beginning to think I was
the only one who knew that.”

“Maggie wants to talk to you,” he said, and she could hear
him hand the phone over.

“Quit trying to make my husband work,” Maggie said.

“Are you pulling your hair out yet?” Claire asked her.

“Oh my goodness,” Maggie said. “I don’t know who to strangle
first. It changes every day. If I come home alone, you’ll know why.”

“I miss you,” Claire said. “I want you to come home
yesterday.”

“What’s going on?”

Claire said, “It’s been awful …” but then she started to cry
and couldn’t continue.

“Oh, Claire Bear,” Maggie said. “Whose ass do I need to kick
first?”

Claire laughed, and then wiped her nose and eyes on the
sheet.

“Do you have a minute?” she asked.

“I have all night,” Maggie said. “I’m going out on the
balcony and I’m closing the door behind me. Okay, it’s just you and me and the
ocean. Now spill it.”

Claire sighed. Somebody did care.

Kay had been determined not to attend Diedre’s funeral, but
the Interdenominational Women’s Society was handling the reception, and with
all they were doing to support her mayoral run, she could not turn down their
call for help. So it was that she found herself in the kitchen of the Rose Hill
Community Center, filling a coffee urn, when the Delvecchio family arrived from
the cemetery.

Kay felt as if all eyes were upon her as Antonia, the
matriarch of the Delvecchio family, entered the kitchen. Antonia was in her
late sixties, but she was still a beautiful woman. Tall and statuesque, with an
hour-glass figure atop long shapely legs, she had once been told she looked
like Sophia Loren, and had played that part to the hilt ever since.

Kay stood back and let everyone else rush forward.
Eventually, Antonia caught her eye, smiled, grasped both of Kay’s hands in her
own, and kissed her on both cheeks.

“Darling Kay, mia cara amica, I am so glad to see you here,”
Antonia said. “Thank you for coming.”

“I’m so sorry for your family’s loss,” Kay said.

Antonia said, “My poor son, a widower now, and so young,”
out loud but then leaned in and whispered, “but it was not such a great loss, I
think.”

Kay was shocked but tried not to show it.

“You will come to dinner at our house tonight,” Antonia
said.

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Kay said.

“Don’t be silly,” Antonia said. “You’re like a member of our
family, and we want you to come.”

“Thank you,” Kay said. “Is there anything I can bring?”

“Bring dessert,” Antonia said. “I don’t eat sweets so I
never make them.”

Antonia smoothed her hands over her hips as if to assure
herself that her diligence was still paying off. Kay felt huge and dowdy next
to her, as if she came from a different species altogether than this elegant,
sensuous woman.

“I’ll be glad to,” Kay said.

“Six o’clock,” Antonia said and then whispered, “I’ll set a
place for you between Sonny and Matthew.”

Antonia’s eyes twinkled and Kay swallowed hard.

“May the best son win,” Antonia said, and winked at Kay.

All through the reception, Kay stayed busy in the kitchen
and fought the urge to eat, not an easy thing to do in a room full of Rose
Hill’s finest homemade food. She knew she was fat, everyone else knew she was
fat, and they had to know that in order to be that fat she must eat a lot, but
she’d be damned if she’d let them see her eat anything.

That was the thing about a food addiction if you didn’t
binge and purge; your weakness was right out there for everyone to see,
criticize, or make faux-concerned comments about it.

‘You have such a pretty face; it’s such a shame.’

‘I’m just worried about your health.’

‘Have you thought about surgery?’

Worse were the people who didn’t pretend to care, who looked
at her body with disgust, or made comments and laughed. It made her wish she
could disappear, that the earth would open up and swallow her whole. It made
her feel she didn’t deserve to live.

Why couldn’t she have been cursed with an addiction she
could hide? Were there any like that? She’d have to look into it.

She was blessedly alone in the kitchen when Sonny came in.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” he said. “I hear
you’re coming to dinner.”

“I couldn’t tell your mother no,” Kay said.

“No one can,” he said. “She heard Matt came to see you. I
told her I was going to give him a run for his money.”

“I could tell,” Kay said. “She was very funny about it.”

“My mother has a great sense of humor,” Sonny said. “Not too
many people get that about her.”

“You’re her oldest, so you must be her favorite.”

“Not even close,” he said. “That would be baby Anthony. No,
I’m probably last in line, but that makes me the underdog, and everyone roots
for the underdog.”

“You’re not last in my line,” Kay said.

“Kay Templeton, are you flirting with me?”

“I seem to be.”

“Good,” he said. “That means I’m ahead.”

“This is not a race.”

“It wasn’t until my brother made it one,” Sonny said.

Unfortunately, there were others in the kitchen when Matt
came back. Kay could see many exchanged looks and surreptitious smiles, which
reinforced the sad fact that there were no secrets in a small town, no matter
how old the gossip. Matt made a point of thanking everyone, saving Kay for
last.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said, as she made his
attempted hug as brief as possible.

“Thank you so much for coming,” he said. “It means so much
to me.”

His big brown eyes were swimming in tears, and his smile was
sad. You could tell he was suffering, and the pull to console him was strong.
She could still see the young man she had fallen in love with so many years ago.
He had made a big mistake, committed a youthful indiscretion, and had paid for
it all these years. Her heart was big enough to forgive that in anyone, why not
her childhood sweetheart?

“It was the least I could do,” Kay said. “I’ve known you and
Diedre since we were kids; it must have been a shock to lose her in such a
tragic way.”

He dissolved into tears, and several women came forward to
console him. Kay was well aware of the spectacle she and Matt were quickly
making of themselves; it would be recounted a dozen times, with dramatic
embellishments, before the hour was over.

Kay was so irritated by how foolish and conspicuous she felt
that she turned extra brisk.

“I have to go now,” she said. “You take care.”

Kay patted his arm and left by the back door, not making eye
contact with anyone as she went. She was filled with a humiliating shame, as if
she were sixteen years old again, running to the girl’s bathroom, sobs wracking
her body while everyone stared or snickered. That was more than 30 years ago;
why did it feel as if it had happened yesterday?

In the parking lot outside the community center Kay saw
Karla, Sonny’s ex-wife, getting out of a car. Kay was so emotionally off kilter
that she feared what she’d say, so she veered right, pretending she hadn’t seen
her, only to have Karla run after her, shouting, “Kay, wait!”

Kay took a deep breath and turned around. She plastered a
smile on her face and said, “Oh, hello, Karla; I didn’t see you there. I guess
I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Do you have a minute?” Karla asked her. “I want to talk to
you about Sonny.”

“No need for that,” Kay said. “Your relationship is none of
my business.”

“That’s not what I heard,” Karla said.

Karla was a striking woman of medium height who you could
tell took good care of herself. Her tan arms and legs were muscular, like a
tennis player’s, and her hair was shoulder length and dark. She obviously knew
her way around makeup, and had made the most of her hazel eyes and good bone
structure. She was dressed in a short black dress which showed off pert
cleavage, and tall heels which were sinking into the lawn of the community
center. If Kay didn’t know for a fact that Karla was the same age as she was,
she would have guessed she was ten years younger.

Karla looked Kay up and down and smirked without trying to
hide it.

“I couldn’t believe it when I heard it,” she said. “I guess
Sonny must be pretty lonesome these days.”

“I’m not going to talk about Sonny with you,” Kay said.

“Then you can listen instead,” Karla said, and took a menacing
step closer. Kay, to her credit, did not back up. Instead she froze the
pleasant smile on her face and looked at Karla as you would look at an
obnoxious child who is not related to you, to whom you do not want to appear to
be rude.

“Sonny and I should never have got divorced,” she said. “I
made a dumb mistake, but I paid for it, and I’m sorry for what I did. Sonny and
me are part of a family, we have kids. That’s a bond that cannot be broken by
divorce. You can’t understand that, because you don’t have any kids. You don’t
know what having a family is like. You take in those orphans or whatever, and
you pretend they’re your kids, but that’s just temporary. That’s just play
acting. Now you’re doing the same thing with Sonny, but that isn’t real, either.
What Sonny and me have is the real thing, the kind of thing that’s for life. Do
you understand what I’m saying to you?”

“I think this is between you and Sonny,” Kay said, although
she was trembling with anger at being spoken to so rudely. “You should be
talking to him, not me.”

As Kay turned and walked away, Karla laughed.

“Oh, I’ll talk to Sonny, all right,” she said to Kay’s back.
“And that’s not all I’ll do.”

Kay’s retreat ended in the kitchen of her own little house,
standing in front of the refrigerator, looking for something with which to
smother the screaming she wanted to do.

There were Girl Scout cookies in the freezer, put there to
keep her from eating them all right away. She dumped a whole box of the peanut
butter and chocolate ones in a ceramic bowl and stuck them in the microwave.
Oops. That was too long. Oh well. With vanilla ice cream on top it was like a
new Ben and Jerry’s flavor.

“Girl Scout Heartache,” she would call it.

Kay locked the front door and drew the curtains. She curled
up on the couch with her big bowl and a spoon, and ate as if it were a job she
had to finish. As soon as the warm, fuzzy, sleepy feeling came over her, she
put on her jammies, got into bed, rolled herself up in a blanket like a
burrito, and went to sleep.

Kay woke up with a headache and a horrible taste in her
mouth.

She looked at the clock.

Oh my goodness, she had to be at Delvecchios in twenty
minutes.

Kay tore off her jammies. After a quick shower and tooth
brushing she put on the first thing she found in her closet that was clean and
didn’t need pressed. It was a sensible-looking navy blue linen jacket which she
wore over a sleeveless white blouse and accessorized with pearls. She couldn’t
button the matching linen pants so she prayed they would stay zipped; at least
the hem of the blouse covered the waist band.

Ordinarily she would have spent hours agonizing over what to
wear, would have blown out her hair and carefully applied her makeup. She
didn’t have time for that. She blew her hair almost dry, pulled it back into a
stubby ponytail, and tied it with a white silk scarf. She swiped her face with
powder, dabbed at her lashes with mascara, and applied some lipstick. She wore
navy blue flats but took the car so she wouldn’t be an even bigger sweaty mess when
she got up there.

The Delvecchios lived up on the highest point of Morning
Glory Avenue, in a large, comfortable home that overlooked all of Rose Hill.
The men of the family were all on the front porch, watching Pauly’s four boys,
ages ranging from four to sixteen, running around on the front lawn.

The patriarch, Sal, was there on the porch, tiny compared to
his strapping sons, his rocking chair situated next to an oxygen tank that was
connected to his nose by a long thin tube. He looked sad and kind of out of it.
He briefly raised his hand and smiled at Kay, but there was none of his old
enthusiasm, his hearty charm. This was all that was left of that former man,
the one who had loved his life and everyone in it.

Sonny was the first to get to her and hug her.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

Matt looked irritated, which made her feel awkward. Pauly
and Anthony both hugged her, told her they were voting for her this fall.

“The girls are inside,” was all Matt said.

Kay instantly recognized this reminder of the antiquated
gender norms by which this household was run. As a guest, she was obligated to
observe family protocol, so she went inside. As expected, all feminine activity
was taking place in the kitchen and dining room.

In the foyer, Pauly’s wife, Julie, greeted her, handed her
their newest offspring, the fifth one, who was around twelve months old, and
based on the profusion of pink ruffles in which it was dressed, a girl.

“This is Giada,” Julie said. “You have to watch her; she’s
going through a biting phase.”

Kay and Giada considered each other, Giada with a serious
frown on her chubby little face. She was drooling, so Kay suspected the issue
must be teething.

“Do you bite?” Kay asked her with a smile.

Giada’s serious expression collapsed into a big, partially
toothy smile. She had her mother’s dimples and her father’s big brown eyes.
What hair she had was clasped on top of her head in a big pink bow.

“I bite,” Giada said.

“It’s not nice to bite,” Julie told her.

“Is Karla here?” Kay whispered to Julie.

“Heavens, no,” Julie said. “Their mother would kick her down
the hill into the river.”

“I bite,” Giada said again.

She opened her mouth and showed Kay her teeth.

“Then let’s get you something for you to bite other than
me,” Kay said, and entered the kitchen.

Antonia was at the stove, an apron tied around her tiny
waist, her high heels kicked aside.

“Kay, welcome,” she said, and hugged her warmly. “Watch this
one; she bites.”

“Do you have something frozen she could chew on?” Kay asked.

“Good idea,” Julie said.

She rooted around in the freezer, came up with a frozen
bagel, and wrapped a paper towel around it. When she handed it to Giada, the
baby considered it with a serious expression and then asked Kay, “Bah?”

“She calls everything that goes in her mouth ‘bah,’ ” Julie
said.

“It’s good,” Kay told her. “Yummy.”

Giada put it in her mouth, decided it was good, and began to
chew on it.

“When my boys were teething, I rubbed whiskey on their
gums,” Antonia said.

“That explains so much,” Julie said, while rolling her eyes
at Kay.