Authors: Abby Drake

Perfect Little Ladies (21 page)

“Yolanda?”

“I’m sure she won’t mind rescheduling appointments. In the meantime, you and I will be at your house.”

“At my house?” Poppy asked, trying to drag out the conversation so he wouldn’t remove his hands from her waist, so he would hold her and hold her and never let go.

“Yes,” he said again. “Your house. I need to search it.”

She blinked and she blanched and her throat went quite dry and she wriggled from his grasp because suddenly she couldn’t breathe.

They were able to get Yolanda on a 3:40 flight. Poppy paid for her to travel first class. After a quick scramble to gather Yolanda’s and Belita’s things (Belita would stay with Poppy and Manny tonight), and several frenetic attempts to call CJ
at Elinor’s (
There was no answer! Why was there no answer?
), they piled into Manny’s black SUV and drove to JFK.

Thankfully, Belita fell asleep in her car seat and did not have to say
bye-bye
to her momma.

“Before we go to my house, can we please go to Elinor’s?” Poppy asked as Manny pulled away from curbside drop-off. “I need to find out why CJ hasn’t answered the phone.”

They were pretty quiet on the return trip to Mount Kasteel. Poppy’s stomach was all knotted up, like those macramé plant hangers the girls had made in art class at McCready’s back in the ’70s.

“Prepare to turn right in three hundred yards,” the faceless woman inside the navigation system said. Manny had been impressed that Poppy had known how to program the thing, which might have mattered if she weren’t so damn nervous. About Elinor. About Duane. And now, about CJ. Not to mention Manny searching her house.

It was, of course, what Poppy
didn’t
know that had her cat-nervous. She’d never gone through Duane’s things. She might have told herself that his things were none of her business, but the truth was, she hadn’t wanted to find what she might find: love notes from ladies; receipts from restaurants and hotels and Victoria’s Secret; photos in his darkroom that didn’t involve nature, at least, not the flora and fauna kind.

And now, Manny might unearth it all, right there in her presence, where she could no longer deny Duane’s out-and-out obsession with women.

Oh, Poppy moaned to herself, what had she ever seen in Duane? Why hadn’t she listened to Momma?

The female inside the navigation system said they had
reached their destination. Poppy told Manny to turn left up the drive. As Elinor’s house came into view, Manny said, “Well, it’s almost as big as yours.”

Poppy detected a sad undertone in Manny’s words, but she didn’t dare ask. She couldn’t possibly think of one more problem right now.

There were no cars around, which might mean that CJ had parked in the garage. Duane, too, for that matter.

“I’ll go,” Poppy said, but Manny said no.

“Stay here with the baby.”

She didn’t protest. If CJ was hurt…if Duane was there…well, Poppy knew she was better off in the car.

She watched Manny walk to the front door. She wondered why his wife hadn’t loved him, or, according to what he’d told her last night, had stopped loving him, the way Poppy was pretty sure now that she’d stopped loving Duane. It was hard to believe that Manny was a scoundrel or a louse. It was hard to believe he was anything but a really nice guy and a really good kisser. It was hard to believe he wouldn’t take good care of anyone that he loved.

He rang the bell and waited. No one came to the door. He rang again. Nothing.

A few seconds later, Manny left the door and followed the Italian stone sidewalk across the front of the house, to the side. Then, he disappeared around back.

Poppy held her breath.

Belita woke up.

“Mommy,” she cried, or something that sounded like
“Mommy.”

Poppy turned around in her seat. “It’s okay, honey. Poppy is here. Uncle Manny will be right back.”

The little girl who, just a few hours ago, had savored her
fun time with Poppy now took another look at her and let out a wail.

“Oh, hell,” Poppy muttered and did not know what to do. Then she remembered the bottle of apple juice Yolanda had tossed in the bag. She climbed over the front seat into the back, where Belita still bawled as if she were the one being blackmailed.

In less than a minute, Poppy got the bottle all set, unbuckled Belita, and took the child in her arms. Vaguely aware that something in her lap felt rather damp, she inserted the nipple into Belita’s little mouth,

Poppy was pondering how on earth one changed a diaper when Manny finally reappeared. Malcolm was walking alongside him.

“Poppy,” Malcolm said. “I was out in the garden.”

He was supposed to have been in Washington. He was supposed to have been in Washington and CJ was supposed to be there at the house. Poppy couldn’t very well ask what had happened, if the blackmailer had shown up and if it had been Duane.

“But where’s your car?” Poppy asked, as if Malcolm was the one who needed interrogating.

“I flew up last night. Took a cab from the airport. Hey—is that a baby you’re holding?”

“It’s my friend’s baby, yes. I see you’ve met her brother, Manny?”

“I told him we stopped by to see Elinor,” Manny jumped in with a quick lie. “I said she wanted to see Yo’s little girl.”

Poppy forced a smile. “Right,” she said. “Well, here she is.”

“Very cute,” Malcolm said and gave a childlike wave to Belita, who studied him carefully but kept sucking the juice.
“Elinor’s in Philadelphia,” Malcolm continued. “At the seamstress or something. Having her dress fixed for the big party Saturday.”

“Oh, yes, well, you’ll have a good time. I know she’s excited.” Poppy wanted to say she was still upset that they weren’t invited, but she supposed the whole thing was irrelevant now.

“Well,” Manny said, “we’d better get going. Nice to meet you.” He shook Malcolm’s hand, got into the car, and they drove off, with Poppy and Belita in the backseat, and Manny acting like the chauffeur in front.

Thirty-five

CJ hadn’t wanted to talk to Elinor until she’d
returned home, changed out of the polyester, and poured a glass of wine. She’d decided to tell her she was done with the charade.

Sitting on the sofa now, her feet propped on the footstool and Luna stretched out, with her chin on CJ’s lap, CJ took a long drink and turned on her phone. There were seven messages, which she chose to ignore. Elinor, no doubt, whining for help.

Slowly, she dialed. If she was lucky, Elinor wouldn’t have reception.

“Where the hell have you been?” her twin’s voice bellowed before CJ had even heard the other end ring.

“I’ve been trying to clean up your messes, E.”

“Don’t start, CJ. You’re not attractive when you’re mean.”

“And you’re not attractive when you’re a train wreck. Are you still coming home tomorrow?”

“If you mean, did I get the money, the answer is yes. All in untraceable debit cards. Has there been any word from my…friend?”

CJ told her that Malcolm had come home, that she’d stolen the handsets, that she was back at the cottage and not at Elinor’s.

Her sister paused for a long time, because it was so rare for anything she’d planned to go so awry. “Well, that’s great,” she finally said.

“Sorry. I did my best.”

“What about Alice? Did she learn anything at the hotel yesterday?”

“No.” Even as
done
as CJ was, she couldn’t bring herself to tell Elinor about the debacle that had ensued, and that she’d gone today and been mistaken for Elinor by the housekeeper. Some things would keep until Elinor was home.

“E,” CJ said, “have you given any more thought to telling Malcolm about it?”

“No, and I won’t.”

“It’s just that he’s a lobbyist, E. He understands give and take. Maybe he’d have some ideas.”

“About how to shake up the current administration?”

“No, Elinor. About how to get out of this with grace and dignity.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that. I’ve called Remy three times, but now I can’t get through. His assistant says he’ll let me know when he can schedule a meeting, but I think Remy’s angry that I’m being pushy.”

In spite of her annoyance, CJ felt a twinge of sorrow. “Oh, E, I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t be sorry. You know it’s my own fault. What did I expect? I’ll tell you what I expected. I expected not to be treated like somebody’s whore. I expected not to be tossed out like yesterday’s champagne gone flat.”

It was a lousy analogy, even for Elinor. Still, it reminded CJ of the glass in her hand, so she took another long drink. After she swallowed, she asked, “What will you do, E?”

“I will fly home tomorrow, and you will pick me up. I will act as if nothing happened, because so far, nothing really has. And I will go to Washington on Saturday for Jonas and Lucinda’s big party. And when I see Remy, I will be polite, even reverent, because he is the vice president, and that’s what Daddy would expect.” Then Elinor started to cry.

CJ teared up as well, because that’s the way CJ thought it worked with identical twins, as if both of their hearts were simultaneously pierced. She’d never been sure, though, if Elinor had ached when CJ had. She’d never been sure because she hadn’t dared ask.

After a moment, CJ said, “E, there’s something else. Something small, really.” She closed her eyes, as if that would make what she had to say easier. “You’d better call Malcolm tonight. I was backed into a corner. I said you’d be home today. I thought he’d ask too many questions if I told him you’d be gone until Friday.”

Elinor let out a long rush of air. “Well, this keeps getting better and better.”

“Sorry, it’s what I had to do. And don’t forget to call his cell number, because the handsets for your land line are out in my car.”

Elinor didn’t say thank you. She merely said, “Pick me up tomorrow” and hung up before CJ could say good-bye.

Alice turned on the laptop she’d brought in order to make arrangements to meet Bud, the theme-park magician. She and Kiley Kate had already signed in at the registration desk and picked up their packet of instructions, agendas, and requisite nametags. Now Kiley Kate was having a bubble bath in the pink garden tub of their petite suite.

According to the agenda, preliminaries would be that evening, finals in two sessions tomorrow: one morning, one afternoon.

Alice logged on and went to her mailbox. A little red dot indicated a message.

Her hand hesitated before clicking. She did love Neal, really she did. What would life be like without him? At her age. What would she do?

What would Elinor do if she were Alice?

Alice stared at the little red dot. Elinor, she knew, would take care of herself. She would get a huge alimony and end up with the property and carry on pretty much the same way.

Until she found another man. And started all over again.

But what about Alice? Despite all these years, despite all her attempts, she was not Elinor and never would be. Oh, she’d go for the alimony, all right. But then what? She wasn’t manipulative and calculating the way Elinor apparently could be. She didn’t know one-tenth of the people Elinor did. She could hardly step into the job market. She’d married Neal before finishing college. A few hours a week in her father’s bakery thirty years ago wouldn’t translate into marketable skills.

She thought about Neal again. Her eyes stung with betrayal.
Her little game was just that: a game. Somehow she suspected Neal’s was much more.

She clicked the red dot. Preliminary auditions started at 6:00, with Kiley Kate scheduled for 7:15. They’d be wrapped up by 9:00, leaving plenty of time for Alice to hook up with Bud around 10:00.

She might as well start her new life now. With the one chance that she had.

“That’s where it happened,” Poppy said to Manny as she pointed to the garden beneath CJ’s cottage window. “That’s where I killed him.” Manny put his arm around her; she could have died right then and been fine.

“Let’s go in,” he said quietly. “It looks like she’s home.”

Poppy took a last look at the rhododendron now planted where the gardener had once been. It seemed like such a long time ago now. Almost as if someone else had done it, not her.

CJ opened the front door. “I saw you pull in. Is everything all right?”

“Have you seen Duane?” Poppy asked.

CJ shook her head. “Why?”

“He’s gone. We thought he might have gone after Elinor. But Malcolm is at the house. I think he’s alone. We were afraid Duane had found you.”

“And done what?”

“I don’t know. Oh, CJ, I’m so afraid he’s the blackmailer. I’m so afraid he found out about Elinor having an affair and decided to get money to reopen his mine and, oh, Lord, I’m so afraid about everything!”

Manny stepped forward. “She thinks everything is her fault.”

“I know,” CJ said. “She always has.”

“We’ve sent Yolanda to be with Elinor,” Manny continued. “In case he followed her to Cayman.”

But CJ didn’t look terribly frightened. “I don’t think Duane did it,” she said.

“But his brother wants a half million dollars! For all we know Duane really is the one E’s been sleeping with! And now he wants the money to keep quiet!”

“I don’t think it’s Duane.” CJ sounded insistent.

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m pretty sure,” CJ said.

Poppy stared at her, then looked at Manny, then looked back at CJ.

“Sooner or later,” CJ continued, “twins find out everything.”

“Do you know who her lover is?”

“I know it’s not Duane.”

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well, he could still be the blackmailer.”

“I doubt it. I think this is out of his league.”

“Have you seen the note?” Manny asked.