In the Event of My Death (22 page)

“And what about her reaction to the talk about Denise’s murder?” Neil asked. “She
yawned
.”

“I know. Weird.” Laurel paused. “Neil, do you think she believes Faith was pregnant?”

“Yes. I don’t know why I think so. Maybe because she was so quiet when Adelaide and Hannah were vehemently defending Faith’s virginity. There was absolutely no expression on her face.”

“What does that prove?”

“Nothing. It’s just that I got the impression it wasn’t one of those times she’d zoned out on us. Her lack of expression seemed deliberate.” He raised his hands. “I told you it was just a feeling.”

“Neil, if she
does
believe Faith was pregnant, she doesn’t think you were the father. Otherwise she wouldn’t have been so polite to you.”

“Maybe not. She could have been playing cat and mouse with me, watching to see if I squirmed. But I’ll tell you one thing—I’m damned sure she knows about the Six of Hearts.”

Laurel nodded. “I think so, too. Faith didn’t want anyone to know that her mother was in a mental institution, but being locked away made Genevra a safe confidante. Who would she tell? And if she
did
tell about this secret club, who would believe her? Unless Faith confirmed it, it would be considered just the ramblings of a deeply disturbed woman. But I’m sure the heart key ring Faith sent her mother means she told Genevra all about us.”

“Yeah. And there’s another thing. Genevra
knows
Faith didn’t commit suicide. Did you see that creepy smile she gave you when she said so?”

“It was worse than creepy.” Laurel took the last bite of her soggy apple pie. “Neil, what if she
is
insane? What if the baby didn’t die of SIDS?”

“And Faith told her about the Six of Hearts and she figured out you might be linked to Faith’s death?” She nodded and Neil looked at her solemnly. “Then we might just have been sharing tea and cookies with a murderer.”

1

The next morning Laurel was waiting for the coffee to finish brewing when the phone rang. She sighed and picked up the receiver. “Hi, Mom.”

“It’s not your mother, it’s Crystal.” Her voice was high-pitched and tense. “I tried to get you all day yesterday and last night, but there was either no answer or a busy signal.”

“I was out most of the day—”

“It doesn’t matter. Oh, Laurel, I know you’ve heard about Denise!”

“Of course.”

“Is that all you can say? ‘Of course,’ like it doesn’t matter?”

Laurel looked out the window at a squirrel darting into a hole in a hickory tree. “Crystal, I told
all
of you what would happen if we didn’t go to the police.”

“Oh. You
told
us so. Does that make you proud of yourself?”

“Crystal, don’t be absurd,” Laurel said angrily. “I think you have a hell of a lot of nerve to call me and say something like that when
none
of you would back me up when I did what you all knew was right.”

“Confessing to Kurt didn’t help anything.”

“I’ll tell you the same thing I told Monica. We should have gone to the police immediately. We didn’t give them enough time to do much. Now, why are you calling? To bitch at me because Denise was murdered in spite of my telling Kurt the truth?”

“No.” Crystal’s tone was apologetic. “I had no intention of bitching at you. You know how I am. When I get upset, my mouth just runs away with me. I only wanted to talk. I’m horrified and I’m
scared
. There are only three of us left. Laurel, who could be doing this?”

The coffee was finished. Laurel put the receiver between her shoulder and her ear and poured milk into the mug, then coffee. “I don’t know.”

“I think Neil Kamrath.”

“I don’t believe so. I’ve talked to him a lot the last few days. I just don’t see him murdering Angie and Denise.”

“So you think Mary or Zeke murdered them?”

“
Or
another member of the Howard family.” Laurel felt slightly squeamish telling Crystal about Genevra being in town, but she believed strongly that the woman was a likely suspect and Crystal a potential victim. She told Crystal the story of Genevra Howard.

For a moment Crystal seemed speechless. Then she said in genuine wonder, “All these years Faith’s mother was in an asylum for murdering her own child and she just got out?”

“Yes.”

“My God, Laurel, is this whole town full of lunatics?”

“They seem to be confined to the Howard family.”

“You sound like this is a joke.”

“I don’t mean to sound that way. I’m scared, too.”

“Do you think Faith was crazy?” Crystal asked in a whisper.

“No, I don’t. I don’t even know if Genevra is. Maybe she was falsely accused—twenty-five years ago they didn’t know as much about SIDS as they do now. She could simply act strange because she’s had such an awful life and been confined for so long.”

“And Mary?”

“Mary lives with Zeke. Anyone who had to live with him would act odd from time to time.”

“Well, I still think Neil Kamrath is weird and Monica says Angie’s ex-husband is a wacko.”

“Is that why she’s defending him?”

“What?”

“The law firm Monica works for is handling Stuart Burgess’s defense.”

“
What?
” Crystal’s voice had risen to a squeak. “But someone else in the firm. Not Monica herself.”

“I doubt if she’s the main lawyer. Probably John Tate is. But she’s his assistant or whatever they call people who help the primary counsel.”

“I wouldn’t know. And I have trouble believing it.”

“Have you talked with her about Denise?”

“Yes. She’s upset, but she handles things differently than we do.”

“I’ll say.” Laurel took a sip of her coffee. “Look, Crystal, I want you to promise me you’ll be extra careful.”

After a pause, Crystal said without sarcasm, “You sound like my mother.”

“Frankly, I don’t trust Monica anymore. I’d rather you didn’t tell her that. In fact, just to be safe, I’d rather you weren’t around her. I don’t want to lose you, too.”

Crystal said haltingly, “Laurel, I can’t believe you care so much about my welfare.”

“Why not? We’ve been friends most of our lives. Did you think I stopped caring about you the night Faith died?”

“Not that night, but afterward. I mean, I’m sure not the privileged, pretty girl I was in high school.”

“And you think friendship is based on money and looks?”

“Some friendships. Some marriages.”

“Crystal, I am
not
Chuck.”

“Do you think if I were the way I used to be—pretty with money and able to have children—Chuck would come back to me?”

Laurel closed her eyes briefly. “Thinking like that is pointless. Things
aren’t
the way they used be, Crystal. And frankly, if it were the money and the ability to have children that attracted Chuck to you, then it wasn’t really love.”

“But most men want their own children.”

“Joyce’s children aren’t his, and you said he’s crazy about them. Crys, I don’t mean to be cruel, but it’s over with Chuck. You have to accept it. There are other men out there who can appreciate you. Chuck Landis doesn’t. Let go of him. End this mess and start living again.”

“It’s just so hard,” Crystal said meekly.

“I know it must be, but you have to do it. Besides, you have something more important to worry about right now. Your life. Not just the quality of your life, but your actual
life
. You do want to live, don’t you?”

“Yes, I guess.”

“You guess? You do. I know it. So do as I say and be careful until we can find this nut.” She glanced at the clock. “I have to get to work, Crystal. If you want to talk more, call me tonight.”

When Laurel hung up, she wondered if she’d come on too strong about Chuck. She knew how desperately Crystal loved him and wanted him back. She also agreed with Crystal that Chuck didn’t love Joyce. He was attracted to her money, her children, and possibly her strength—not quiet strength of character, but her simple pushiness, her ability to get what she wanted for herself and those she called hers. Crystal didn’t have that kind of strength. She needed someone to look after
her
, but that person certainly wasn’t Chuck and never had been.

Oh, well, right or wrong, she said what she felt. Maybe she’d hurt Crystal’s feelings about Chuck, but at least she’d reminded Crystal to stop concentrating on her marital situation and look out for herself.

Laurel arrived at the store a few minutes late. Mary was friendly, but it was hard for Laurel to act normal around her after all she’d learned last night. On the day Laurel visited the Howard house, Mary had sat on her couch with seeming sincerity telling Laurel her mother was a “sinner” because she’d run off with another man. She knew quite well where her mother had been all these years. Faith never revealed her mother’s whereabouts, but she hadn’t lied as Mary had done so easily.

How many other lies had Mary told her? Laurel wondered as she tried to concentrate on placing her order for the day with the wholesaler. And if Mary could lie so easily, so convincingly, what else might she be capable of doing?

2

“Where have you been?” Joyce asked when Chuck walked in, his cheeks red from the cold.

“Doing a little last-minute Christmas shopping.” He placed a couple of small packages under the heavily decorated tree and shrugged out of his suede jacket. “Where are the kids?”

“The boys are at Sammy’s. Mollie is at her ballet lesson.”

“I can’t keep up with them since they’re out of school on Christmas break. What’ve you been up to?”

Joyce finally looked up from the hardcover novel she’d been reading. Her face was pale, her dark eyes stormy. “I spent an hour on the phone with my charming ex-husband.”

“Gordon talked for an hour without the kids here?” Joyce nodded. “What’s up?”

“He’s going to sue me for full custody of the children.”

Chuck’s handsome face went blank for a moment. Finally he registered shock. “
Full
custody! How can he do that?”

“My living situation. Chuck, we’ve been living together for six months while Gordon is respectably remarried. To make things worse, you’re unemployed. His wife is a kindergarten teacher. She even teaches Sunday school. She’s a damned saint!”

Chuck sat down beside her. “Honey, I’ll be employed as soon as the deal for the car lot goes through. Didn’t you explain to him that these things take time?”

“He knows that. He also knows
I’m
buying the lot for you.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

Joyce slapped shut her novel. “Chuck, employment isn’t the big issue. We’re not married!”

“We will be as soon as I get divorced.”

“And when will that be?”

“As soon as Crystal signs the papers.”

“I
know
that much. But when is she going to sign them? She’s had them for months.”

“I talked to her.”

“And you told her to have the papers at the lawyer’s Monday morning. This is Wednesday afternoon. I called him half an hour ago. He still doesn’t have them.”

Chuck put his arm around her rigid shoulders. “Sweetheart, this has been a tough week for Crys.”

“Crys is
always
having a tough week.”

“I mean it, Joyce. Monday was Angie Ricci’s funeral. I know she went. Then Monday night Denise Gibson was murdered.”

“Gibson? Oh, Dr. Price’s wife. I always forget you went to school with these people.”

You always forget I’m fifteen years younger than you, Chuck thought, anger flickering through him. You always forget I had any life before you met me.

Joyce let out a small, gusty sigh. “Well, anyway, I understand that Crystal’s friends have been dropping like flies the past few days—”

“That’s a helluva thing to say!”

Joyce flinched at the tone of his voice. “You’re right. I get nasty when I’m mad. I
am
sorry about the Price woman and especially about Angela Ricci. She
was
somebody. I saw her on Broadway once. But their deaths don’t have anything to do with Crystal not signing the divorce papers. Like I said, she’s had those papers for months.”

“I’ll talk to her again.”

“Talk to her?
Talk
to her?” Joyce stood up. Her ash blond hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail and she hadn’t dressed with her usual care, a simple, baggy sweater hanging over a pair of loose slacks. She wasn’t worried about showing off her carefully maintained figure today. “Talking to her won’t do any good. She doesn’t take you seriously.”

“What do you expect me to do?”

“Act like a man!”

“Act like a man?” Chuck jumped up, furious. “What do I usually act like?”

“When it comes to Crystal you act like a boy! A guilty little boy!”

“A boy!” Chuck raised his hand and Joyce dodged backward.

“Don’t you
ever
hit me,” she hissed. “If you do, I will never speak to you again.”

Chuck immediately lowered his hand. He’d always had a quick temper and Crystal tiptoed around it. Joyce wouldn’t, but he couldn’t push her. No matter how angry she made him, he had to control himself around her because she held all the cards. “I’d never hurt you.”

“That’s not what you looked like a minute ago.”

Chuck forced himself to swallow his anger. He said meekly, “I’m sorry. I really am. This situation is just—”

“Impossible.” Joyce turned away and walked to the Christmas tree where she began toying with ornaments. “Chuck, I want you. I want to marry you, I want to sleep with you every night, I want to set you up in a good business, I want
you
to be the male influence in my boys’ lives. Gordon is such a sanctimonious little twerp.” She turned and looked at him. “But as much as I want you, I won’t lose my children for you.”

“Maybe if I move into an apartment for a couple of months, Gordon will settle down. Then we won’t be living together.”

Joyce closed her eyes in exasperation. “And Crystal will take it as a sign that you’re losing interest in me and she’ll
never
sign the divorce papers. No, Chuck, you have to do something.
Fast
. Otherwise…”

Chuck looked around at the beautiful living room. This house was four times larger than the houses he’d shared with his parents and with Crystal. He thought about the car lot that this summer could be his. He thought about his new Corvette in the driveway. Finally, and most wrenchingly, he thought of the three children he’d come to think of as his own. He couldn’t lose all of this because of Crystal, whom he’d come to hate. He just couldn’t.

“Don’t worry, Joyce,” he said, pulling her reluctant body into his arms. “We’re going to be together as soon as possible. I’ll see to it.”

3

Laurel was in the kitchen taking two Excedrin when she heard the bell on the front door ring again. She glanced at the clock. Four-fifteen. Thank goodness. Forty-five minutes until closing time. It had been a busy day, the wholesalers had run short on gladioli, which she desperately needed for all the orders coming in for Denise’s funeral, and she’d lost too much sleep lately. Now she felt as if an ice pick were lodged behind her eyes.

She walked into the display room to see Kurt standing impatiently at the counter. She smiled and said, “Hi!”

He glared and said, “I need to talk to you.”

Laurel halted. “Couldn’t this wait until tonight?”

“No. I have something to do. Besides, you’re kind of hard to catch at home these days. Or should I say
nights
?”

Chatter in the workroom stopped. The women were tired. All they needed was a scene to liven up things. All Laurel needed was a scene to drive the ice pick deeper behind her eyes.

“Norma, would you cover the counter if anyone comes in?” she called.

“Sure.”

Laurel looked at Kurt. “Let’s go in the kitchen.” He strode ahead of her. She closed the door. “Do you want coffee? It’s probably awfully strong by now. There might be a Coke in the refrigerator.”