The Borrowed and Blue Murders (The Zoe Hayes Mysteries) (8 page)

B
RYCE FINALLY CAME OUT
of surgery, but he was still unconscious, and his condition was critical. Gavin and Petra Edmond thanked us and promised to call as soon as there was any news. And just six hours after I’d begun my walk, Nick, Luke and I headed home. The lump on my head thumped a dull, persistent throb, and my vision was still not right. All I wanted was to disappear upstairs in a steamy scented bath. But as Nick pulled into a parking spot across the street from the house, I realized that the bath would have to wait. Anna, the wedding planner, was standing on the front porch in her high heels and Capri stretch pants, waiting. Even before we got out of the car, she started squawking.

“Where have you been, Zoe? You were supposed to meet me here forty-five minutes ago!”

I looked to Nick for support, but he darted out of the car and hid behind the open trunk, getting the carriage out of the Volvo. So I waved at Anna and, pulling myself out the passenger side and Luke out of his baby seat, crossed the street to face her.

“Have you forgotten that your wedding is just six days away?” Anna met us at the curb, holding up six fingers, to demonstrate the number. “Six days. That’s all. We have deadlines to meet. Weddings don’t just happen by themselves. They take work. The chef needs final numbers. The florist needs a final decision. The cake—my God—you still haven’t chosen the cake. I picked your dress up, but you should try it on again so they can make adjustments if they have to….”

She ranted on, and I watched her pink lips moving, emitting a jumble of noise. Somehow, I’d become completely detached from the wedding, didn’t even mind saying the word anymore. The wedding was a detail; it wasn’t important. Not when cars could come flying off the curb in an eye blink, not when strangers got filleted in your backyard. But Anna kept on ranting.

“…unacceptable, Zoe—I’ve never had a bride as uncooperative as you are. If not for your houseguests, I’d have left half an hour ago. I simply can’t work like this. Without your full cooperation, I—”

“How are you, Anna?” Nick interrupted. Finally, he’d rolled the empty carriage across the street. Eyes on Anna, he took Luke from my arms.

Anna had stopped her harangue mid-sentence, mouth open. Taken aback by Nick’s good cheer, she tried to curl her bright red snarl into a smile.

“Fine, just fine, Nick. Except that—”

“Well, that’s good, Anna. Because, as it happens, Zoe’s not very well. Zoe’s had a rough couple of days, and she can use your support.”

Anna’s mouth opened as if she were about to speak, but she didn’t.

Nick lowered his voice and leaned toward her, speaking confidentially. “We’re just coming from the hospital,” I heard him say. And I heard the phrase “hit-and-run.”

Anna shook her head. “Oh my. How horrible.” She covered her mouth with her French manicured fingers, looking from Nick to me, and back to Nick.

But Nick wasn’t finished. He told her about the murder, too. “You probably heard about it on the news. The body was on our patio. Zoe found her.”

“Wait—no. That—that happened here?” Anna actually gasped. “You mean the jogger? The one that was cut open?” She stared, unable to process the information. “Oh my God. I’ve been so busy, I didn’t pay attention—”

Nick explained that given the circumstances, I hadn’t been as prompt as I should have been regarding the floral arrangements.

But Anna wasn’t focused on the wedding anymore. “I saw it in the paper. That poor woman’s been all over the news. But good Lord. I never put it together. Wait—there was a picture. Of your house—I should have recognized it. And weren’t you in it? Of course you were. And it was on television, too. But I wasn’t paying attention—but, Zoe, poor dear, let’s get you inside.” Even in three- inch heels, Anna was significantly shorter than I was, and the arm she put around me circled my hips instead of my waist, but I let her guide me up the front stairs and into the house while Nick followed with Luke and the carriage.

“Don’t you worry about a thing, Zoe. I’m here now, so you’ll be able to get some rest and collect yourself. All these shocks—you must be in a state. Oh dear. And you only have a few days to recover.”

Sam was in the kitchen among small mountains of empty bottles and unwashed dishes, making himself a sandwich of bananas and mayonnaise. Oliver yipped at Sam’s feet, nuzzling his ankles, hoping for a handout. They both looked up as we came in.

“You,” Anna called to him. “Nick’s brother. What’s your name?”

“I am Sam, ma’am. And you are?” He took a leisurely bite, smiling.

“I’m the one who’s going to get your motor moving, Sam. Make Zoe a cup of hot tea and some toast with jam. Blackberry, if you have it. Or some orange marmalade.”

Sam chewed, blinking with confused amusement at the short, officious stranger while enjoying the ample curves contained in her spandex pants.

“We’ve only got grape and strawberry.” I wasn’t sure about the grape.

“Well, that’ll have to do then. Strawberry. Bring it all upstairs on a tray—along with a glass of brandy. When you’re done with that, I’ll show you where the vacuum is. You can start to tidy up.”

Sam took another bite. Oliver whimpered.

“What’s wrong with you—didn’t you hear me? Get moving.”

Sam put a hand up. “Okay, don’t get your panties in a knot.” He reached for the kettle.

As Nick came in behind us, Anna called to him, “You’re in charge of the baby for now. Where’s little Molly?”

“At a sleepover. She’ll be home soon—”

“Good. You’re in charge of her, too. We don’t want any interruptions for at least two hours. Not one. I mean it.”

As Anna led me down the hall, Oliver, apparently giving up on a bite of banana, barreled at Nick, yapping his greeting.

“Oliver.” Anna didn’t stop walking or turn to look at him. “Be quiet and sit.”

Immediately, the yipping stopped. I looked back; unbelievably, Oliver was sitting, wearing a broad, eager smile. Beside him, Nick stood next to the carriage, holding Luke, watching us, looking confused and abandoned.

Tony was in the living room on his hands and knees, probably looking for his quarters again, this time under the recliner. When he saw us, he scrambled to his feet, grinning and sheepish.

“Tony, if you need change, I have a dish of it upstairs. Help yourself.”

“No, it’s no big deal. I just wonder what happened—you don’t think Oliver would swallow quarters, do you?”

“Well, if he did,” Anna barked, “it’ll come out the other end. Eventually.”

“Tony, this is Anna. Anna, Tony, another brother.” I realized they hadn’t met.

“How do you do, Tony?” Anna gave him a charming, toothy grin and led me to the stairs. “Oh, and Tony? When I come back down, I expect that you and your brothers will have cleaned the mess in here and in the kitchen, and that you will have begun preparing dinner.”

Before Tony could respond, Anna pushed up the steps.

I didn’t argue, didn’t resist. I surrendered completely, letting Anna guide me, obeying her orders to undress as she lit scented candles and ran my bath. At her command, I sunk into hot water, letting myself float, listening to silence and the soft popping of bubbles. Finally, unbelievably, I was alone, beginning to relax. But not quite. There was a knock at the door, and Anna stepped in.

“Don’t get too comfy yet, dear. Not till I get your wine order and the final decision on the tablecloths. I’d go with the Zinfandel for dinner, the port with dessert. And I’m nixing the baby’s breath with roses. They’re a cliché—”

“Anna.” I finally found my voice. “Do whatever you think best.”

She seemed confused. Her perfectly penciled eyebrows rose, disappointed. “Really? But—”

“I value your advice. You’ve got experience. I’m sure your choices will be excellent.”

“But about the table settings—”

“Your choice.”

She hesitated. “The stemware—”

“Anna.” I tried to sound firm. “You decide.”

“All of it?”

“All of it.”

Shaking her head, she finally backed out of the room. I sunk into the water, stayed under the bubbles, soaking, until I needed to come up for air. I heard only a few sounds during the next hour. Molly coming home, with a tumult of Oliver barking and the front door slamming and loud shouting for “Mom.” Nick stopping her from coming to look for me, explaining that her mom was resting. The vacuum cleaner’s high-pitched whirring.

And Nick on the phone in the bedroom, escaping Anna’s supervision long enough to leave a hurried voice mail for our babysitter, Ivy, confirming—no, begging her to come back to work on Monday.

A
NNA REFUSED TO JOIN
us for dinner; she stayed in the kitchen making lists and phone calls while we ate. Our meal began quietly. The brothers were subdued, on their best behavior. They used utensils properly, placed their napkins neatly on their laps. No elbows rested on the table; no one belched out loud. At first, conversation was careful, as if everyone feared that Anna might be monitoring us.

“Feeling better, Zoe?”

“Get a nap?”

And then, gradually, inevitably, attention turned to Bryce. Sam and Tony wanted to hear what happened.

“Mom?” Molly was confused. “Was somebody in an accident?”

I didn’t want to upset her, so I avoided her questions. “A friend. But it’s no big deal, Molls. Want another drumstick?”

Sam asked her what to send an elephant when he gets sick. “A get wellephant card.”

While he was still laughing, I asked how her sleepover was and her face brightened. “Oh, Mom, I almost forgot.” She beamed. “Guess what we did today?”

“What?”

Luke, lying on a comforter beside us, had been fussing, but suddenly he began to howl. I got up and brought him to the table, where Molly was in the middle of her answer.

…that pottery place—you know, where you can make ceramics?” Molly went on. “Susan took me and Emily.”

I positioned Luke on my shoulder, patting his back, trying to help him get rid of a bubble in his tummy. His cries drowned out Molly’s voice; I had to strain to hear her.

“…a kitten, but I made a dog …looks like Oliver.”

“Cool,” I managed over Luke’s wails.

“…plus I made something else.”

Sitting at the table wasn’t working. The baby was squirming and complaining. He was too loud, bothering everyone, and I couldn’t eat with him on my lap, anyhow. I stood to walk him up and down the hall.

“…surprise for Luke.”

I didn’t realize Molly had finished what she was saying, and she watched me, waiting for my response. As I left the table, Luke’s howls rattling my ears, I tried to figure out what to say. “Super, Molls!” I shouted so she could hear me, and I hoped that made sense.

“That’s great,” Nick offered. He was obviously trying to cover for me. “Are you going to tell us what it is?”

Her eyes remained on me, a fixed stare. “No. I’m not.”

Luke wailed.

“Sorry, Molly,” I apologized. “Can you tell me about it later?”

“Let me take him.” Nick started to stand.

“Zoe, sit down and eat. Have Anna hold him.” Sam stuffed a forkful of potatoes into his mouth.

“It’s okay.” I was already at the door. Seconds later, Luke burped and settled down. I came back and put him back onto the comforter, sitting with him for a moment to make sure he was calm. Finally, I sat at the table and finished dinner. The brothers had become more conversational, talking about car accidents they’d had, apparently competing for the Worst Judgment/Riskiest Behavior While Driving award. So far, Nick seemed to be winning, having, at age seventeen, spun his ‘65 Chevy Nova on the ice into a telephone pole, from which it ricocheted and slid into a ditch, and then, as he tried to back it up the steep incline onto the pavement, the ice gave way under it and it flipped completely over.

The men guffawed at their youthful luck and stupidity. They were so boisterous that it took a while to notice how quiet Molly was. In fact, for most of the meal, she hadn’t said a word. But just as Sam was starting a story involving his Mustang and an eighteen- wheeler, Anna appeared, cutting him off with her arms crossed and her eyes glaring.

Anna spouted orders, and the brothers jumped to action. She wouldn’t leave until the last dinner dishes had been loaded into the dishwasher and the last leftover stored in the refrigerator. And, before going, she handed a to-do list to each adult member of the household. Standing at the door, she reminded us again that we had only a very few days remaining until the most important event in Nick’s and my life and, despite dramatic intrusions of the outside world, we had better get ourselves on board with her plans or she would not be responsible for the outcome.

As she bullied, Nick and his brothers lowered their heads slightly, avoiding eye contact, and I wondered if Anna reminded them of their mother. Despite their muscular frames and macho demeanors, the three were easily cowed into submission by a woman who was barely five feet tall. Not one of them argued or answered back. They seemed well practiced in humble obedience to a diminutive female taskmaster, a fact I filed away for future reference.

At the door, Anna gave a final warning. “I’ll be back tomorrow. I expect that the items on your lists will have been attended to by then.”

The door closed. No one spoke for a minute. Then Sam started, mimicking Anna, barking orders, criticizing the quality of his work: “What’s this on the counter? Water stains? You left water stains on the counter?” He sounded surprisingly like her. He even stood like she did, gestured the same way.

“Water stains? What the hell’s wrong with you? Slob. Moron. Incompetent screwup.” Tony’s falsetto sounded more like Anna than Anna did.

The two of them kept it up. “You—Nick’s brother. What’s your name? If you want to be in this wedding, you’ll need a haircut—”

“—An eyebrow wax—”

“—A chest wax.”

“—Botox. You can’t be in a wedding with that face. It doesn’t go with the centerpiece.”

Nick didn’t join in. He got up, stretched and walked over behind me, rubbing my shoulders. “You all right, Zoe?”