Accessory to Murder (12 page)

“What happened?” Alyce asked.

“She was turning thirty,” Linda said. “That's a milestone in a woman's life.”

“Tombstone is more like it,” Josie said. “Women get their midlife crises ten years before men.”

Josie hoped she didn't blow it with her outburst, but Linda nodded in agreement.

“That is so true,” Linda said. “I thought turning thirty wouldn't bother me. I was fine until the morning of my birthday. I woke up so depressed I couldn't move.”

“Me, too,” Josie said. “I could not get out of bed. I was paralyzed. Finally, my mother knocked on my bedroom door and said, ‘It's seven thirty and your daughter has to go to school. Why aren't you up?'

“‘I'm going to die,' I said.

“My mother said, ‘Not right away. Get your rear out of bed, Josie. You have a daughter to support.' It worked. I got up.”

Oops. Alyce was looking stricken. Should she have avoided the word “rear” or the mention of working for a living? This crowd could be stuffy sometimes. Josie sent the conversation safely back to Alyce. “How did you spend your thirtieth, Alyce?”

“I had morning sickness. I celebrated my birthday with 7UP and soda crackers.”

“I'm sorry,” Linda said.

“Don't be,” Alyce said. “I wanted that baby. But it would have been hell if I didn't. Do you think Halley snapped when Cliff pressured her for another child?”

“Absolutely,” Linda said. “That's when she started going to the West End. Most of the Wood Winds crowd never goes into the city. But Halley was a transplanted Manhattan girl. She felt at home there. She met Ramsey, and then Evelyn. The rest was history.”

A short history, Josie thought. Halley was dead.

“I'd like more details about her artistic growth for the service,” Alyce said. “I'll be careful not to say anything that would upset her family. Can I find Evelyn through his gallery?”

“Yes,” Linda said. “It's on Maryland, near Euclid.”

“What about Ramsey? He might give me some details about her artistic life,” Alyce said. “I'd never use his name.”

“Wouldn't make any difference if you did,” Linda said rather meanly.

“Where's he living now?” Josie said.

“I don't know,” Linda said. “Ramsey could be in his old haunts, or he may be hiding out from some irate husband or parent. He may have worn out his welcome and taken off for a while. He developed an unpleasant streak of self-pity after he'd had a few drinks. Wait. I think I have his cell phone number somewhere.”

Linda brought out a stack of paper with doodles and numbers scribbled every which way. “Here. That's it. He changes his cell phone provider more often than he changes his socks, so I can't promise that will work. You can also try his favorite bar, Llywelyn's.”

“Will he talk to someone like me?” Alyce said.

“If you buy him a drink,” Linda said. “He's never met a drink he didn't like.”

“That was amazing,” Josie said when they were back in Alyce's SUV. “I can't believe the information you pried out of Linda.”

“She wanted to talk,” Alyce said. “She needed to tell someone what happened. She's so lonely. Poor Linda. Their friendship was over the day Halley won that contest.”

“It was over the day Halley's husband wanted another baby,” Josie said. “She sounded frantic to escape.”

“Can you blame her?” Alyce said. “There's nothing worse than being trapped in a life you hate. Staying home with my Justin makes me happy, but it might drive another woman crazy.”

Alyce drove at a stately pace past the lake at Wood Winds. Sunshine silvered the water. A woman in a blue coat walked a golden Lab along the edge. The scene looked idyllic, but Josie knew she would go slowly crazy in Wood Winds.

“What would send you over the edge?” she asked.

“Having to work for a living,” Alyce said.

Like I do, Josie thought.

There was an awkward silence. Alyce was facing that unhappy possibility, thanks to her husband. Josie wondered if Alyce was thinking the same thing. They'd asked Linda every question except the most important one: Was Halley having an affair with Jake?

The silence seemed to smother them. Josie searched frantically for a safe subject. “I still have time before I pick up Amelia. We can talk to more neighbors or eat more Greta Burgers.”

Josie's stomach growled ominously. Alyce's eyebrows shot up at the sound.

“I think that was a vote for more talk,” Josie said.

Alyce's cell phone rang. “I'd better take this.” She pulled the SUV over to the curb and opened her phone. “You can watch the lake,” she said.

Instead, Josie watched the color drain from her friend's face. “Where are you?” Alyce's voice was a death sentence. “I'll meet you there.”

Alyce snapped her phone shut and said, “The police want Jake to come in for questioning.”

“Has he been arrested?” Josie asked.

“Not yet. But he will be. At least this time he's taking his lawyer, Andy Cole, with him. Jake is on his way to Andy's office. I'll meet him there.”

“I'll go with you,” Josie said.

“No,” Alyce said. “This could take hours. There's nothing you can do. The nanny will stay with Justin. I'll call you when I can.”

Alyce pulled into her driveway next to Josie's car. Josie hugged her friend. “Good luck,” she said. The words sounded stupid. Luck was what you wished someone who had a chance of winning.

Alyce didn't answer. Maybe she didn't hear. She hardened her pale face into an expressionless mask and squared her shoulders. Alyce was steeling herself to face the worst.

Josie waved forlornly from Alyce's driveway. Then she drove like a madwoman through the traffic and hit all the remaining Greta Burger outlets. She scarfed down the wretched burgers, but had no idea how they tasted. She could have been eating fried cardboard. She wished she had. It was probably more sanitary than a Greta Burger.

By the time Josie reached the Barrington School, her stomach was rumbling like a summer thunderstorm. She chugged some Maalox to soothe it.

Josie pulled up at the Barrington School just as the bell rang, then waited impatiently in line for her daughter. She rolled down the car window to get rid of the stench of cheap meat and old onions.

“Eeew, Mom, what stinks?” Amelia wrinkled her nose as she plopped onto the seat.

“I've been eating Greta Burgers so you can have a decent meal,” Josie said. “Don't give me any lip.”

Amelia sulked all the way home. Josie belched and swigged Maalox. I took this mystery-shopping job to spend more quality time with my daughter, she thought. Maybe I should have had a son. A nine-year-old boy would love a belching contest with his mother.

Josie's worries slid over to Alyce, who was facing more than an upset stomach. Alyce's marriage was crumbling, her husband's career was on the skids, and he was a murder suspect for no reason Josie could understand. If Jake was arrested, her friend would be scalded in the white heat of publicity.

Alyce was such a private person. She would suffer in terrible silence. How would this horror affect little Justin? Josie glanced over at her own daughter, staring out the window, her small compact body bristling with hurt. We don't need two nine-year-olds in our family, Josie decided. It was time to act like an adult.

“I'm sorry I snapped at you,” Josie said. “I ate too many Greta Burgers. I don't feel so good.”

“I can hear, Mom,” Amelia said. “You sounded just like Abel at school, except he does it on purpose.”

“I'll make us something good for dinner,” Josie said. “That will calm my stomach.”

“Mac and cheese?” Amelia said.

“Yep.” Josie had read an article in a parenting magazine about how to make quick meals more wholesome.

“Sweet!” Amelia said.

At home, she ran to her room and started her homework without being asked. She forgot to set the table, but Josie did it for her. She'd cut the kid some slack. Alyce's troubles were a reminder how quickly happy lives could disintegrate.

Josie piled the macaroni on her daughter's plate and admired her work. She thought the colorful veggies brightened a dull dish.

Amelia didn't. “What's in my mac and cheese?”

“Vegetables,” Josie said. “This is a healthy meal if I add some broccoli, carrots, and peas. I threw in a few leftover green beans, too.”

Amelia forked a green bean to the side of her plate. “I didn't want a healthy meal. I wanted dinner.”

Amelia carefully ate around the vegetables, even the ones she normally liked. Josie didn't nag her. She hoped some of the broccoli-and-bean vitamins rubbed off on the macaroni. She was relieved when the phone rang, and grabbed it before Amelia could get it.

“Hey, it's Mike,” the hunky plumber said in a luscious telephone voice. It sent pleasant tingles through Josie. Mike and his low-fat buns were her reward for an awful day.

Josie saw her daughter staring at her and blushed. Could the kid read her thoughts? Probably not. But Amelia could see her mother's burning face. Josie turned her back and took the phone to the other end of the kitchen.

“I'm calling to apologize,” Mike said. “We got your check today for that job at your house. I wouldn't have charged you, but my partner and I have this agreement—no breaks for family and friends who call through the service. Otherwise, we'd be working free most of the time. Once the call is logged, it's official. Let me give you my cell phone number, and your next plumbing emergency is on me.”

Josie eyed her uncertain kitchen sink and the pot of congealing vegetable macaroni. Naw, that would be too obvious. Also, too disgusting. What would it say about her cooking if it stopped up the sink?

“We still on for our date?” Mike said.

“Absolutely,” Josie said. She was tongue-tied as a teenager. She managed another four words. “Looking forward to it.”

“Me, too,” Mike said. “I wanted to take you to dinner at a little place in Maplewood. Nothing fancy, but I think you'll like it. Oops, there's my beeper. Gotta go.”

After her dreary date with Granby Hicks, talking to Mike was exhilarating. He was actually interested in her. He didn't drone on about his high-tech toys. He didn't make her feel like another accessory to impress the right people.

When Josie hung up, she heard water running. Amelia was loading the dishwasher.

“Thank you,” Josie said, and hugged her daughter. She knew it wasn't only virtue that prompted Amelia to do the dishes. The veggies on her plate had been scraped into the garbage and carefully covered with boxes. Josie hid her smile just as carefully. So much for veggie mac.

She and Amelia finished cleaning the kitchen. Then both went off to write their reports: Amelia on the Great Wall of China and Josie on the not-so-great Greta Burgers. She faxed the report to Suttin Services, then started to call Alyce. No, Alyce had told her to wait, and she would. A call now might be an interruption.

More than once that evening, Josie lifted the receiver to call her friend, then decided against it. If Alyce needed her, she'd call. Josie watched the ten o'clock news. There was nothing about an arrest in the Halley Hardwicke murder. That was a relief. Maybe Jake would be questioned and released. Maybe Alyce's uneasy feeling was wrong. Josie fell asleep clinging to that hope.

It was dashed at seven the next morning when the phone rang. Josie could tell Alyce had bad news. Her friend sounded flat and emotionless, almost as if she were reading a report.

“I'm sorry to call so early,” Alyce said. “But I wanted you to hear it from me first. Jake's been arrested. He's charged with conspiracy to commit murder in the first degree. He's in the county jail.”

“Ohmigod,” Josie said. “Can your lawyer get him out on bail?”

“Andy thinks so. The preliminary hearing is tomorrow.”

“How is Jake?”

“He looks so scared, Josie, not like my confident man.” Finally, Alyce's feelings broke through. Josie could hear her friend's fear. Alyce loved Jake, whatever his faults.

“How are you?” Josie asked.

“Furious!” Alyce said. “The police searched my kitchen, Josie. They've wrecked my house. They took our financial records. They took Jake's computer. They searched his office, too, but at least they couldn't touch his client files. His lawyer says there's nothing we can do about the house.”

“I'm so sorry,” Josie said.

“His law firm wants Jake to take a leave of absence until it's sorted out.”

“Can they do that?” Josie asked.

“They have to. They have to reduce their exposure for liability.”

“What happened to ‘not guilty until proven'?” Josie asked.

“It makes no difference whether he's convicted or acquitted,” Alyce said. “A client could claim Jake was too distracted by his own problems and missed something important. If Jake made a mistake, the client could sue the firm. Besides, who wants a potential felon representing them?”

“I'm so sorry,” Josie repeated. Sorry for what? she wondered. Sorry this happened to Alyce? Sorry her friend married Jake? Sorry he got caught? The words were meaningless.

“The story is all over the radio and TV,” Alyce said. “It didn't make the newspaper yet, but it will.”

“I'll be at your place right after I take Amelia to school,” Josie said.

“What about your job?” Alyce asked.

“I finished the Greta Burgers yesterday,” Josie said. “It will take Harry a day or so to think of something worse.”

Amelia was a model child that morning, dressed, breakfasted, and ready to leave on time. On the drive to school, she kept the radio tuned to 105.7, The Point. The popular kids' station wasn't interested in news about Jake. Josie let her daughter listen. She'd hear about Jake soon enough.

As soon as she let her daughter out of the car, Josie switched stations. She found Jake's story in thirty seconds.

“A prominent West County attorney was arrested today for the murder of designer Halley Hardwicke. Milton ‘Jake' Bohannon was charged with conspiracy to commit murder in the first degree, a police spokesperson said.”

Milton? Josie thought. Jake's real name was Milton?

“Designer Halley Hardwicke died in what appeared to be a carjacking at the Dorchester Mall,” the announcer said. “Police sources say Bohannon arranged the murder for hire of his estranged lover.”

Estranged lover? Poor Alyce.

Josie switched off the radio. She'd heard enough. The drive to Alyce's was a four-lane battle with the morning traffic. Then she had to fight her way into the subdivision. Reporters and TV trucks were camped at the gates to Wood Winds. Some boldly stopped the residents' cars as they left the subdivision gates.

The neighbors will love that, Josie thought.

Alyce met her at the kitchen door. She was so angry, her pale skin had a permanent flush.

“Look at this,” she said. Chair cushions were flung on the floor, drawers hung open, and jars and cans were scattered on the counter. Alyce's beloved kitchen gadgets were thrown in a prickly pile on the granite island. Copper pots were dumped on the floor.

Josie caught a glimpse of the other rooms. Crooked pictures and an overturned chair said they'd been ransacked, too.

“The police did this?” Josie said.

“The bastards,” Alyce said. That was shocking language for her.

“Nothing looks broken,” Josie said. “I'll help you put things away.”

She began gathering chair cushions, while Alyce sorted through the herb mills and other exotic devices.

“You're lucky the cops didn't arrest you for that stuff in your kitchen,” Josie said. “It looks positively lethal.”