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Authors: Mollie Cox Bryan

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BOOK: Death of an Irish Diva
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Chapter 51
“But what does any of that have to do with her death?” Beatrice asked Annie over the phone.
“I have no idea,” Annie replied over the sound of her boys and the rushing of waves.
“It's the strangest thing I've heard, that they are trying to create designer children. But it fits her personality, doesn't it?” Beatrice said.
“I wonder if she stepped on someone's toes. I mean, this is a sensitive area. This research has all kinds of moral and ethical implications,” Annie said.
“Good science gone bad,” Beatrice said. “It started out to help families. . . .”
“Ben, put that sand down now! I'm sorry, Bea. I've got to go,” Annie said.
Beatrice sat back in her chair and thought over the past few days. Bill's live-in lover had been arrested for trespassing, harassment, and conspiracy. After the police found strands of hair in Elizabeth's room, she fell apart and confessed. From what Beatrice understood, the young woman confessed almost immediately. She was trying to frame Vera, Bill's ex-wife and Beatrice's very own daughter. What was wrong with people? Beatrice had never liked that young woman, but she felt sorry for her for the desperate and twisted attempt at getting attention. Beatrice and Vera had yet to hear from Bill. Not a phone call. Not an e-mail.
When he was her son-in-law, she knew he cared for Vera and was good to her, but she never really understood what Vera saw in the man. None of her business, ultimately. But when they broke up, it was still sad, especially since after all these years, they finally had gotten pregnant. She couldn't blame Vera for not wanting to work it out with him. The fact that he lived with such a young and disturbed woman gave Beatrice fodder to outright despise him. What a fool a middle-aged man could be.
Annie's news was startling. Not so much that Emily was a member of this group, but more that such a group and such a science existed. But it was good to know that at least some of the people involved in it were trying to be ethical.
“Would you like a sandwich, Bea?” Jon said, walking into the room.
“Yes, and after that more of that strawberry-rhubarb tart you made,” she said.
“It turned out well,” he said. “I just love that rhubarb.”
It was one of his discoveries in the United States. They didn't have it in France, or at least not in Paris, which was where he had lived most of his life. He was smitten with rhubarb, making jams, pies, tarts a few weeks back and a cake just last week. It was one of the plants that grew freely in Appalachia.
Jon made her a ham sandwich, and they settled at the table.
“What are we going to do about the hole in our backyard?” he said and grinned.
She shrugged. “The man is supposed to get back to me this week about what's happening. We'll get our pool. Don't worry.”
“I am not worried,” he said and shrugged. “If we don't get it this year, in time for summer, maybe next year?”
Next year? Lawd, the man had plans to stay awhile. Beatrice's old heart fluttered.
Just then her doorbell rang. When Beatrice opened the door, she was surprised to see Leola.
“Hello. C'mon in,” Beatrice said.
“I'm here to see Vera,” Leola said.
Well, that was polite.
“I'm sorry,” Beatrice said. “Vera and Lizzie are out for the day. Can I help you with something?”
“I just wanted to ask her why she's pressing charges against my niece,” Leola said.
“Your niece? Oh, that's right,” Beatrice said, just then remembering the family connection.
“I mean, you don't think it's because . . . well . . .”
“I think it's because the woman was in her home in the middle of the night and she's been trying to frame her for murder,” Beatrice said. “I believe I'd press charges, too.”
Leola's mouth dropped.
Jon came up behind Beatrice. “Hello, Leola. Please come in.”
She shook her head. “I don't think so. I just don't understand why Vera would want to press charges against Kelsey when she's just so troubled. It feels bitter.”
Beatrice cackled. “Look, if you think Vera in any way wants Bill back into her life that way, you can think again. She's moved on.”
“I wish Kelsey would move on, too,” Leola said. “But Vera should drop those charges.”
“Why should she?” Jon said. “She tried to frame her for murder. I hope they lock her up!” he said emphatically, twisting an imaginary key in front of Beatrice's face. “Now, if you will excuse us.”
He shut the door in her face.
“Trash,” he said, wiping his hands together. “Good riddance.”
“Now, Jon, we don't do that in this country. You just don't shut the door in people's faces,” Beatrice said, trying to be stern.
He shrugged. “Such is life,
mon amour
. You can't like everybody. What was she doing here? I don't put up with such nonsense, and neither should you.”
“Well,” Beatrice said, “I was handling it just fine.”
“Yes, you were,” he said. “I'm sorry for stepping in, but she needed the door slammed in her face. Some people . . . well . . . How do you say? They are illogical, and you must not waste your energy.”
“I get that, Jon,” Beatrice said, unsure of how she felt. She had never needed anybody to stand up for her. She wasn't sure if she liked it or not.
She looked at her man, eyes sparking, smile on his face.
Well, he was cute, and he could make a mean strawberry-rhubarb tart. She thought she might just keep him.
Chapter 52
Vera had just slid Lizzie into the “baby” swing at the park. Lizzie laughed and pointed at the ducks. When Vera turned around to look, Leola was walking toward her, with her hands on her hips.
“Well, hello there,” Vera said, stepping behind the swing to start pushing Lizzie.
“Don't hello me.” Leola glared at her.
Confused, Vera smiled at her. “I'm sorry. Are you okay?”
“I'm livid!” she screamed. “Why are you pressing charges against Kelsey?”
Vera's heart nearly stopped. Was everybody looking her way?
“Maybe this isn't the best time to talk about this,” Vera finally said.
“Mommy?” Lizzie reached for her.
Vera lifted her out of the swing and grabbed her bag.
“We'll talk later,” Vera said.
“We'll talk now,” Leola said, stepping in front of her.
Vera was at least a foot shorter than Leola, and she had Lizzie on her hip. What did she want? To fight?
“What do you want from me?” Vera said with an even tone.
“I want you to drop the charges,” Leola replied. “She's just young and foolish. She meant no harm.”
Vera bit her lip. Kelsey had tried to frame her for murder. And she had been in her daughter's bedroom in the middle of the night. Kelsey would have let her hang for the murder. Vera was certain of that. But this was not the time to get into it with Leola, whose face was so contorted with anger, Vera was shocked by the change in her appearance.
Best to try to make peace. Mollify her.
Vera smiled as best as she could and shrugged. “I'll talk to my lawyer about it.”
“Who would that be?” Leola said.
Vera just looked at her. She didn't have to tell this woman anything. Who did she think she was? She turned to walk away, and Leola grabbed on to her arm so hard that it made her squeal. Vera twisted around to face her, and her daughter squalled just as her tiny little hand reached across and smacked Leola hard across the face.
“Oh, Lizzie! I'm so sorry. Lizzie, we don't hit,” Vera said, looking at her daughter, not knowing whether to feel embarrassed or proud.
A tiny red handprint spread on Leola's startled face.
“Let that be a lesson to you, Vera. We never know what our children are capable of,” she said, with tears forming in her eyes. Finally, she walked off.
“Bad lady,” Lizzie said. “Bad, bad, bad.”
“Yes, Lizzie, but we don't solve our problems by hitting people. Remember that,” Vera said. “Okay?”
“Okay,” she said. “Sorry, Mommy. Look! There's Daddy!”
“No, that's not Daddy,” Vera said, watching as the man came closer. A dark, slumped-over, dirty-looking man. But as he approached, he yelled Lizzie's name. Yes, it was Bill. Good Lord. Wasn't this just a banner day?
Lizzie fell out of Vera's arms and into her father's.
“Well, hello, Bill,” Vera said through clenched teeth. First Leola, and now Bill was making an appearance. Could the day get any worse?
“Hey, what's with the attitude?”
“Leola just nearly assaulted me,” she said.
“Huh,” he replied. “She's got quite a temper.”
“Yes,” she said. “But nothing like Lizzie's.”
“What do you mean?”
“Liz smacked her across the face. Hard. Where has she seen that done, Bill?”
He shrugged. “Kids do that. She probably saw another kid doing it.”
Vera looked off into the distance, not wanting to watch Lizzie fawn all over her father. The man who lived with the woman who had tried to set her up for murder.
“Hey,” he said to Vera. “We need to talk.”
Vera smirked. “Now? You want to talk now?”
“I just wanted to say I'm so sorry about all of this,” he said. “I know it's been hard on you.”
Vera just looked at him. Is that all he had to say?
“You have to believe me. I didn't know anything about it. I never would have—”
“Daddy, swing!”
“Just a minute, Lizzie. I promise we'll swing.”
“Look, Vera,” he said. “Kelsey has had a kind of rough past. Has all these insecurities. And she is intimidated by you. Jealous, I guess.”
“Oh, for heaven's sake, why is she jealous of me? I'm the ex-wife. She is living with you. She has you. I don't get it,” Vera said.
“Vera, don't you know how together you appear to someone like her? How beautiful you are? How much I still love you?” His hand went to his mouth. “Sorry. Didn't mean to say that.”
“Really, Bill,” Vera said. “Are you going to stand there and tell me you are living with this young woman who is crazy about you and you still love me?”
He nodded.
A fireball of anger formed in the pit of her stomach and moved through her body. She concentrated to keep it from erupting there at the park.
“You are despicable,” she said, taking Lizzie from him. “We need to go. Sorry. You can swing with Daddy some other time.”
“But—” Bill began.
“Bill, please stop,” Vera said. “We've known each other for a long time. And I can honestly tell you that . . . well . . . I don't know who you are anymore.”
He looked as if she had slapped him.
“Vera,” he called after her as she started to walk away. “Kelsey might have done all this stuff to you, but I'm sure she didn't kill Emily.”
Vera swung around. “Are you, Bill? Because from where I stand, it seems like she's perfectly capable of it.”
Chapter 53
“Well, this is an interesting turn of events,” DeeAnn said as she cut out a photo.
“Indeed,” Sheila said, leaning over her computer.
“Well, I hope they lock her up and throw away the key,” Vera said. “Honestly, what have I ever done to the woman?”
“It's obvious she's not right,” DeeAnn said. “And then there's you.” She turned to look at Annie. “What's wrong with you?”
Annie shrugged. “I've got a lot on my mind.”
“Like what?” DeeAnn asked.
She told them her story about Alicorn. “I'm waiting to hear back from my friend about some questions he's digging into. But suffice it to say, I can't find a connection at Alicorn, other than the fact that Emily was a board member of their foundation and was constantly giving them money. And there is an NMO connection. She got money from them to give to the labs. But I can't see how it plays into her death.”
“I can see how it might. You know, maybe some of these political right-wingers took issue with what they are doing,” Paige said.
“But usually when that happens, the group is making a very public statement. Nobody has stepped forward to claim it. You know? And she was strangled. That's a very personal way to kill someone,” Annie said.
“What does Bryant say?” Sheila asked, taking a sip of her wine.
“I haven't talked to him,” Annie said and went back to working on her parents' black-and-white album.
“Why not?” Sheila said.
“I just haven't had the time,” Annie said. “We just got home last night.”
“I think you better talk with him soon,” Sheila said.
But Annie didn't want to talk with him. It was easier to think when he wasn't around. She wasn't helping with the case anymore. She was just working on a possible story. No reason to divulge what she knew. None of it was evidence, at this point. She took a long drink of her beer and thought about her last conversation with her brother, who now thought that she'd developed an alcohol problem.
“If you've been drinking every time he's been around and all these sparks have been flying, I'm telling you the problem is not you. It's the booze,” he had said.
She had laughed him off. But the night they first kissed, she had been pretty drunk. She had found herself sitting at the bar way too long because she was afraid to stand. It was one of those nights she felt she just had to get out of the house alone, and all of her friends were busy. She decided to stop in the bar for a few drinks and realized she had too much.
She didn't know that Bryant was even there. She'd just ordered a coffee to help sober herself up, and he came up behind her, pressed himself into her back, and breathed onto her neck. She remembered his smell—bourbon and a deep muskiness that seemed to pull her to him. When he kissed her neck, all her senses spun. She had not been kissed like that in years. The next thing she knew, she was kissing him back. Never mind that they were in a bar just outside of town and anybody could have seen them together.
If the bartender had not interrupted with her coffee, Annie was almost certain she would have had a sweaty and hot time of it in his car. And she wasn't proud of that. She loved her husband. She liked the kiss, liked the way it made her feel, and that tore at her guts.
“Have you looked into that church?” DeeAnn asked and then took a bite of a muffin.
“Yes,” Annie said. “It's not an official church of any kind. No denominational leanings, so it doesn't seem to have any documents related to it at all. I called the minister, and he was friendly enough, invited me to a service, but said that they are an interdenominational group rather than a church. But he did say they are Bible centered.”
“I know what that means,” DeeAnn said. “They are taking the good book literally.”
Annie took another drink of her beer and looked around the table. Vera was mostly gray now and said she didn't have time to bother with her hair. Also, she didn't cake the make-up on anymore. According to Annie's eye, Vera looked better than she had in a long time. Maybe she was sleeping better these days. Sheila was becoming more and more successful with her digital designs. One daughter was in college; the next was heading off to school next year. Her boys were still in middle school. DeeAnn hadn't changed much since Annie had known her. She had always been a successful business owner, had always looked like a baker, with strong, muscled arms, and had always had a wisecrack or two. These days, Paige was unusually quiet, which usually meant she was trying to keep a secret.
“What have you been up to, Paige?”
Paige glanced up at Annie and shifted in her seat. “Nothing unusual to report.” She started fussing with the plate of chocolate chip cookies.
“Are you going to eat one of those or not?” Annie asked.
“Leave me alone, Annie,” Paige snapped.
Annie laughed. “It's true. You're hiding something.”
“What is it?” Sheila looked up from her computer.
“Maybe she's pregnant,” DeeAnn said and elbowed her.
“Pregnant?” Paige said. “You know that ship has sailed.”
“Maybe she has a secret crush or lover,” Vera offered.
“Pshaw,” DeeAnn said. “She's all about Earl.”
“Well, he
is
my husband,” Paige said, affixing a photo to a scrapbook page. “Such as he is.” She grunted. “And there's nothing interesting to report there, either.”
The group laughed.
“But something is going on with you,” Annie said.
“Well,” Paige said, “yes, there is. I'm doing some research on the side. Very exciting research. But I promised I'd keep it a secret.”
Vera dropped her scissors. “From us? Really?”
“Especially from y'all,” Paige said.
The room quieted.
“Why?” DeeAnn said. “I think you should just tell us what's going on.”
“Are you kidding? She'd kill me,” Paige said.
Annie grinned. With that statement, everybody at the table knew exactly who she was talking about.
“What is my mother up to?” Vera said.
BOOK: Death of an Irish Diva
10.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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