All Fall Down (13 page)

“H
ey, Ash.” Melanie greeted her sister with a hug. “You're the first. Come on in.”

“What a surprise.” Ashley smiled wryly and stepped inside. “Considering Mia's never been on time in her life.”

Melanie laughed, in high spirits. She had been looking forward to this get-together all week. “True. But Veronica's even worse. You'd think a lawyer would understand the importance of being punctual.”

“So, I'm finally going to meet the great and mysterious Veronica.”

“Not so mysterious. Besides, you could have met her before now, you've been busy.”

“But she
is
great, right? The best thing to come along since cappuccinos on every corner?”

Melanie looked at her, confused by the edge in her sister's voice. “I don't follow.”

Ashley shook her head. “Never mind, bad joke. So, where's my little tiger tonight?”

“Casey? He's with his dad. It's Stan's weekend.” Melanie motioned toward the kitchen. “I was just whipping up a pitcher of frozen margaritas. Give me a hand.”

Ashley followed her to the other room. Melanie had
prepared a vegetable tray; a hot bean dip and tortilla roll-ups. Ashley surveyed the platter and arched her eyebrows. “Awfully nice spread just for us girls.”

“I was feeling festive.”

“Hmm.” Her sister plucked a carrot stick from the tray and dunked it into the dip. “Why?”

“I need a reason?” She dumped a can of frozen limeade in the blender, then followed it with tequila, triple sec and ice. She flipped the switch and the room filled with the sound of ice being pulverized.

When the concoction looked the right consistency, she turned off the appliance. “Hand me a couple of those glasses,” she said. “Let's give these babies a try.”

She poured and handed a glass to her sister. Ashley sipped, then murmured her approval. “Hits the spot.”

“What have you been doing to keep you so busy?” Melanie asked, bringing the glass to her lips. “I haven't seen you in at least two weeks.”

She shrugged. “Same as always, work's kept me on the road. Besides, I don't think it's me who's been busy.”

Once again, Melanie was confused by her sister's tone. It was as if she was angry about something, some slight or exclusion. But before she could ask what, Ashley changed the subject. “I hear Mia and Veronica have been spending a good bit of time together.”

“I don't know about that. They've gone shopping and to lunch a couple of times.”

“Interesting.”

This time Melanie didn't let the comment pass. She made a sound of exasperation. Ashley, it seemed, was
in one of her moods. “And what's
that
supposed to mean?”

“Think about it. Mia's marriage is in shambles and what's she doing?
Lunching
and
shopping
with her new best buddy.”

“Would you rather she sit home and cry twenty-four hours a day? Besides, I've been monitoring that situation. Boyd's been on very good behavior.”
Ever since she and Bobby had paid him that little visit.
“As for your sister, her moods seem to swing between despair and gaiety. It's disconcerting, but considering the circumstances, to be expected. Don't you think?”

“I suppose. Personally, I think she should leave the prick. But she doesn't seem interested in my opinion.” Ashley plucked a tortilla roll-up from the platter. “Tell me again how you met Veronica.”

Grateful to be off the subject of her twin's troubled marriage, Melanie did, starting with their initial encounter on papering day and how they had recognized each other from the coffeehouse, and ending with running into each other at the dojang.

“Odd,” Ashley murmured, “that you and she frequent the same coffeehouse and dojang. Charlotte's a big city.”

“Not that big. The Starbucks is centrally located, which is exactly why we picked it and Mr. Browne is the only nationally ranked tae kwon do master in the Charlotte area.”

At her sister's suspicious expression, Melanie laughed. Ashley was like this—always seeing shadows, always looking on the dark side. Melanie gave
her a hug. “You're going to like her, I know you are. She and Mia got along famously, right off.”

“Famously,” Ashley repeated, a sudden smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Now
that
I have to see.”

She got her chance moments later when Mia and Veronica arrived simultaneously. Melanie found them chatting on the front porch. She greeted them, sending her twin a concerned glance. Mia's cheeks were flushed, her smile bright. Too bright, Melanie thought.
Tonight, it seemed, gaiety was to be the mood du jour.

Melanie greeted them, made the introductions and within minutes had herded everyone out to the patio, drinks in hands.

“Where've you been hiding, Ash?” Mia asked, sinking onto one of the sling-back chairs. “I've missed you.”

“Have you?” Ashley looked at Veronica, then back at Mia. “My number's in the book.”

“You kill me, Ash.” Mia shook her head and brought her drink to her lips. “I bet that sexy cop you're dating's been keeping you on your back.”

Ashley flushed. “I haven't seen him in some time. You know that.”

“I know no such thing. Besides, the way you disappear for days at a time—”

Veronica stepped in. “I, for one, am happy to finally meet the third twin.” She smiled warmly. “Though I feel I know you already, Melanie and Mia have talked so much about you.”

“I wondered why my ears have been burning. Now I know.”

“I just love margaritas.” Mia took another sip of her drink and made a sound of pleasure. “We should drink them all the time.”

“I propose a toast then,” Veronica said, lifting her glass. “To good friends and frozen drinks. May they always go together.”

Echoing the sentiment, the others lifted their glasses. From that point on, any awkwardness between the four women melted away. They drank and laughed, snacked and talked—about everything but nothing of consequence: the weather, spring fashions, movies and the merits of Hollywood's latest hunk of the moment.

When their conversation fell into a lull, Veronica leaned forward, excited. “I can't believe I almost forgot to tell you, Melanie. I have good news. I talked to my friend, the attorney I told you about. She can take you on.”

“She can?” Melanie brought a hand to her chest. “Thank God. I was really starting to stress over this. Stan's lawyer called me this week, inquiring as to who I had decided on.”

Veronica dug a business card out of her purse and handed it to Melanie. “Not only that, she told me to tell you not to worry about her fees. She'll work out something you can live with.”

“You're a lifesaver, Veronica. I can't thank you enough.”

“What's this all about?” Ashley looked from one to the other, eyebrows drawn together in concern and confusion. “You in some sort of trouble, Mel?”

“Just the usual. Man trouble, with a capital ‘S.”'

“Bastard husbands.” Mia sighed and leaned her head against the chair back and gazed up at the star-sprinkled sky. “You can divorce 'em, but you can't escape 'em.” She giggled. “Unless they die, of course.”

Ashley sent her an aggravated glance, then looked back at Melanie. “Why's this the first I heard about it?”

“It's not.” Melanie plucked a tortilla chip from the bowl and snapped it in half. “I told you about the lawyer I met with. About what a total ass he was. When I mentioned the episode to Veronica, she recommended a family-law attorney who also happens to be her friend. She also, graciously, offered to call and smooth the way.” Melanie looked at Veronica and smiled. “Which I appreciate more than she can know.”

Ashley sent Veronica an angry glance. “I could have given you a couple recommendations, Mel.”

Veronica looked from Melanie to Ashley. “I'm sorry. Have I done something wrong?”

“Of course not,” Melanie said quickly. “You did me a big favor, a huge one.” She turned back to her sister. “This isn't a competition, Ash.”

“That's right, Ash,” Mia added, seemingly unaware of the tension at the table. “In fact, I vote we officially make her one of the Lane triplets.”

“Triplets are three,” Ashley snapped. “Not four.”

“Quads then. How fun!” Mia stood, though none too steadily. “Barkeep, another pitcher!”

Melanie followed her sister to her feet. Although she thought Mia had consumed enough tequila for one
night, she was grateful for the interruption. Sometimes she didn't understand her third sister at all. It was obvious that she had taken an instant dislike to Veronica, though Melanie couldn't fathom why. Veronica was one of those people
everybody
liked.

And Ashley was not. Maybe that was the problem.

“Refills coming up,” she said.

“I'll help,” Veronica said. She picked up the chip basket. “Got any more tortilla chips?”

“You bet. Ash, I've got some truly sinful frosted brownies in a box on the back seat of my car. Can you get them for me?”

Ash said she could, Mia announced that she had to pee and Veronica followed her to the kitchen.

“I'm really sorry about the way Ash is behaving,” Melanie said. “I don't know what's gotten into her.”

Veronica opened a bag of chips and dumped some into the basket. “It's pretty obvious she feels threatened by me, though I can't imagine why.”

Melanie could. Ashley, for all her cynicism and bravado, was deeply insecure and highly sensitive. Far too often she wore her heart on her sleeve, though the casual observer would never know it. Veronica, on the other hand, was self-confident, bright and successful—if she'd had any demons in her personal closet, she seemed to have conquered them.

But understanding wasn't the same as condoning, and Melanie refused to pander to Ashley's moods. “I'm glad we have a moment alone,” she murmured. “There's something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh? What's up?”

“Remember when I spoke to you about Jim McMillian's death?”

“Sure.”

“Well, I've uncovered something…I mean, I think I've uncovered something and I wanted to get your opinion on it.”

Veronica's gaze sharpened. “Shoot.”

“I did a little digging, and—”

“This a private party? Or can anyone join in?”

Her third sister stood in the doorway to the garage, bakery box balanced on the palm of her right hand. Melanie motioned Ashley inside. She supposed it didn't matter if she shared her theory with her sisters. After all, at this point that's
all
it was. Besides, if she turned out to be correct, it would all end up on the front page anyway.

“Not a private party,” she answered her sister. “A theory. In fact, I'd like your opinion. Pull up a stool.”

“What's going on?” Mia emerged from the bathroom, cheeks flushed from having drunk too much.

“Big sister has a theory she's going to run by us.” Ashley glanced at Melanie, all earlier tension erased from her features. She wiggled her eyebrows. “Something sinister, I hope?”

Melanie laughed. This was the Ashley she knew and loved being around—funny, slightly off center, acerbic. “Definitely.”

“Hot dog.” Ashley rubbed her hands together. “Right up my alley.”

Mia plopped onto a stool. “Can we drink while we listen?”

“Lush.”

“Sour sack.”

“Ladies.” Melanie tapped a spoon against the tile counter, interrupting her sisters. “Before I begin, I'm warning you, this theory of mine's a doozy. Try to keep an open mind.” Melanie took a deep breath. “I believe a serial killer is operating in the Charlotte/Mecklenburg area. He, or she, is targeting and exterminating batterers and abusers who have either wriggled through cracks in the legal system or otherwise avoided justice.”

Veronica nearly choked on her drink, Mia dropped a can of limeade and Ashley whistled and murmured, “Holy smokes, Batgirl.”

Then the group fell silent. Melanie moved her gaze between the three women. “Now that I have your attention, let me tell you how I came to that conclusion.

“First,” she said, “three men are dead. All accused batterers.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “Jim McMillian. Accused of rape and sexual battery. Goes to trial, his lawyers get him off, though everyone knows he's guilty as sin. Eight months later, a freakish twist of fate finds him dead.”

She held up a second finger. “Thomas Weiss. I first become acquainted with this charming fellow when he puts his girlfriend in the hospital. We don't have enough to charge him, and he walks. Days later, he's dead—”

“The victim of a freakish twist of fate,” Veronica supplied, then looked at the other two, sharing the story of the car accident and how it occurred.

“And number three?” Mia asked, eyes alight with interest. “Who's he?”

“Samson Gold. A cokehead who beat up on his girlfriend. Police did nothing, but fate did. He got ahold of a cocaine and pure heroin mixture that killed him.”

Ashley frowned. “Where'd you dig him up?”

“Pardon?”

“How did you hear about him? McMillian was a highly publicized case and Weiss you learned about through your work. Where did you hear about Gold? The obits?”

Melanie shook her head. “That doesn't matter. What's important here is, that's three dead batterers. One too many, in my opinion, to be a coincidence.”

“This is so cool,” Mia said, sliding off her stool, going for the box of brownies. “Like the plot of a movie or TV show.” She slit the Scotch tape with her fingernail and lifted the box lid. “What are you going to do next?”

“I don't know.” She looked at Veronica. “Any ideas?”