Death of an Irish Diva (26 page)

The Cumberland Creek scrapbookers gathered around Sheila's basement cropping table as Paige read from the newspaper.:

“When John Reilly found out his wife was having an affair with Emily McGlashen, he became livid enough to strangle her. According to pieces of interviews and forensic evidence, along with an account by an eyewitness, the scene unfolded like this.

“Emily had just finished the Saint Patrick's Day parade and show. She broke a shoelace and went back to the studio to get new laces. Distracted by the laces and her task before her, Emily didn't realize that John Reilly was waiting there for her. She hadn't bothered turning on the studio lights, just her desk lamp. She often placed one lace around her neck while she was working on the other one.

“All of a sudden, he lunged at her, pushed her to the floor. She screamed, but he placed one of his large hands over her mouth. She fought back, but he was too heavy and too strong. This is when an eyewitness entered the room, saw what was happening, panicked, dropped her purse, and ran out of the room. But she didn't remember the incident at all, because she was so traumatized by it.”

“Oh, dear,” Sheila said. “How awful for you.” She placed her hand on Vera's shoulder.

Vera nodded. “Go on,” she said to Paige.

“‘We were following the money trail,' Detective Adam Bryant said. ‘We knew Emily McGlashen was sending money to Alicorn. But we didn't know about the embezzlement, of course. Nobody did, except her, evidently. She had been investigating it for a while and had just sent an e-mail to one other board member about her suspicions.'

“‘John W. Reilly had been embezzling money for five years,' a spokesperson for the company said. ‘We are still investigating, but at this point it looks like that figure is somewhere in the millions.'

“A professor at the University of Virginia, Reilly was in the perfect position to make contact with young, struggling, but healthy women. He wanted babies, lots of them, so that he could adopt them out through Alicorn. ‘He looked at us as an investment,' Chelsea Miller, of Cumberland Creek, said. ‘But I didn't care. I just needed to pay for school—'”

“Doesn't that beat all?” DeeAnn interrupted. “He found girls who would have babies for college tuition. Now, that's just sad.”

“I agree,” Vera said. “But as sad as that is, let's not forget that Emily died over this.”

“And what a horrible way to die,” Annie said.

“I didn't like her when she was alive,” Sheila said. “But now that we know . . . she was standing up for Chelsea and the other girls. She was trying to do the right thing for Alicorn, too. Just trying to do the right thing.”

“With all that going on, no wonder she was not a pleasant person,” Vera said.

“Indeed,” Annie said, pouring wine in each woman's glass.

“I still don't really understand how he did it,” Vera said.

“Well, he was a respected business professor, and he was one of those people the agency thought had nearly perfect heritage. When he volunteered as a fund-raiser, he was very successful. And of course, they trusted him. At some point their records and bank accounts were completely open to him,” Annie explained.

“And he couldn't resist,” DeeAnn said.

“But that wasn't enough,” Paige said.

“No,” Sheila said. “He saw another way to make money from them through this surrogacy plan of his. To me, that's one of the sickest aspects of all it.”

“I'll never completely understand his motivations,” Paige said. “Just money?”

“I've been thinking about this,” Annie said. “I don't think it's just about money. I think it's also about illusions of grandeur. It suits his personality type, you know? He's definitely under psych evaluation. Those results should be interesting.”

“Well, he helped himself to my hind end while standing in my mother's kitchen,” Vera pointed out.

“We know that,” Sheila said, rolling her eyes.

Annie laughed. “You know that is really immature. I can see a high school boy doing that. But a grown man?”

Just then a knock came at the door.

“Must be Leola, Rachel, and Donald,” Vera said. Vera and Leola had patched things up. Leola had apologized for nearly attacking her at the park. After considering the matter more closely and talking with Kelsey, Leola had come to her senses and hoped Kelsey would get the help she needed. Leola had her own problems, now that she was facing charges because of shooting her husband.

When she entered the room, they were all taken aback by how much weight Leola had lost. And had she slept at all?

“So glad you could make it,” Sheila said and hugged them.

“Thanks so much for doing this. I know Emily wasn't well liked. She was different. But I loved her,” Leola said, looking at Rachel and smiling.

“And she loved you,” Rachel said, beaming. Donald stood on the other side of her, smiling.

“Are you okay?” Annie asked Leola.

“I'm as okay as I can be,” she replied. “Funny, a few months ago, I never would have wanted to tell my children that I'm gay. But now that they know, it's such a huge relief. I really think that I wasn't giving them enough credit. I know Emily was planning on telling you, Rachel, soon.”

Rachel smiled and pulled out a DVD from her bag, and Sheila slid it into her computer as Annie poured wine and handed each person a glass.

“Of course, they have so much to deal with because of their dad that me and my story are nothing right now,” Leola said.

Sheila hit PLAY, and the strains of an Irish fiddle erupted.

“To Emily McGlashen,” Vera said, lifting her glass.

“To Emily,” they chimed.

They watched the screen as Emily leapt across the stage. Her feet and legs moved to the rhythm with uncanny precision. Her green skirt moved against her body in its own cadence. Her body was gorgeous, lean, strong, graceful as she leapt and twirled.

A hush fell over the scrapbooking room. Leola sighed. Rachel's arm went around her.

“God,” Vera said, “she was a beautiful dancer.”

Leola nodded as a tear slipped down her face. Rachel sobbed out loud.

Later, as Annie walked home, she remembered that there was one more thing they had left to do in regard to Emily McGlashen. Beatrice was planning to have the Greenbergs to her home before they left town. Annie smiled. That Beatrice was becoming an old softy.

Annie was remembering when she saw Bryant pull aside another cop after the incident in the street, it made her skin prick. He'd been less than honest with her, which she had half expected. So she reverted to her old reporter's way and eavesdropped. Well, as best as she could. It was one of the new police officers, and she was a woman. Interesting for Cumberland Creek.

Murmur. Murmur. “Investigation . . .”

Annie stepped out from behind the rhododendron bush, caught Bryant's eye. The officer whispered something to the detective, and he nodded, then slipped away.

“Annie,” he said, walking up to her. “We need to talk.”

He took her by the arm and led her to a bench, where they both sat down.

“You need to promise me that you will remain calm.”

“Okay,” Annie said. What the heck was going on?

“I know that you and Cookie were good friends.”

Annie's eyes went to her fingers. The best of friends. Or so she had thought.

“Yes?” Annie said.

“We've found her,” he said with a barely audible voice. “She is . . . not well but will be soon. We hope.”

Stunned, Annie didn't know what to say. But her heart raced; her skin tingled. Cookie was alive! A tear stung in the corner of her eye.

“Can you tell me anything?” Annie said, swallowing hard, trying not to sob.

“I'm afraid not,” he said.

“Okay,” Annie said, with a wild mix of emotions whipping through her. Anger. Sadness. Relief.

Bryant shot a glance of guilt and shame toward her. He had known all along. She quickly looked away from him.

“Why didn't you tell me earlier?”

He looked away from her. “I just couldn't. I've been kind of a mess about it. Sorting it out myself. Sorting out... other things.”

“I just want to smack you,” she said.

He laughed. “I guess you're okay, then.”

A few moments of silence.

“And then there is this. I know that Cookie loved you. She loved your friends and family, too.” he said. “Don't ask. I just know.”

It hurt to breathe. Something caught in her throat. Annie couldn't speak. She was afraid that she'd sob out loud, scream, or throw up.

Annie was seized by an impulse to go back to Cookie's little yellow house on the cul-de-sac. She had been there from time to time over the past year, while Cookie was missing. Nobody had rented or purchased it. It was still wide open for anybody to wander through. Though as far as she knew, nobody else had.
Only in Cumberland Creek.

Later that day, Annie walked to Cookie's place to sort this out in her mind and in her heart.

Every so often when she walked through the door of Cookie's home, she smelled something sweet, homey, like something had recently been baked. Once or twice she had found bits and pieces of things. Once it was an old photo. Another time, it was a small stone with a rune painted on it.

As she walked in later in the day, Cookie's place held only the odor of must and mildew. Closed spaces. She walked over to the window, the one that she was drawn to every time she entered Cookie's home. She cracked it open as she looked out toward the mountains and breathed in a little fresh air. She remembered when she and the others came in and found Cookie's scrapbook of shadows and how surprised they were at the sparseness of her home. The lack of clothing, furniture—well, everything.

Then she remembered being here with Bryant, which was the first time he had ever let down that cocky attitude of his and let her glimpse another part of him. That was when she really started to trust him. He had taken advantage of it. Thank God she never slept with him.

She heard someone at the door.
Adam? Again?

When it opened, she was surprised to find her own husband standing there.

“Hey,” he said. “I was dropping Ben off to play down the street, and I saw your car here. You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said. “C'mon in.”

“What are you doing here?” he said and kissed her.

“I've been thinking about Cookie. I just talked to Bryant, and he told me that Cookie has been found, that she's going to be okay.”

“Oh, Annie,” Mike said, pulling her close to him. “That's great news.”

“But she is being whisked away to heal somewhere,” she said. “It's all very secretive. I think he must have known it for a while.”

He thought for a moment. “Yeah, you're probably right.”

“Look at this view,” she told him, pulling him to the window.

“Wow,” he said. “What's this?”

He picked up a shiny object that was on the ledge. Why hadn't she seen that before? He held it up to the light. It shimmered. It was gold, a lovely Star of David.

Annie gasped. “Look at that.”

He handed it to her. “You might as well take it. Nobody else around here would wear it.”

She smiled and slipped it into her bag.

Mike pulled her closer to him. “You are one sexy Jewish woman.”

He grinned as she laughed, and then he pulled her closer, kissed her.

Finally, he pulled away from her, his face lit with passion.

“I'm going to lock the door,” he said hoarsely.

“What?” she said and grinned. “Why?”

He took his shirt off, spread it on the floor, and proceeded to show her why.

Murder solved, her custody hearing pending, Vera breathed a sigh of relief as she looked into Eric's eyes. They were in a secluded spot at the park. He had spread a blanket and had brought a basket of cheeses, crackers, fruit, and wine.

He guided her chin to his mouth and kissed her, so tenderly that it almost broke her heart as other parts of her were coming alive, swirling almost as strongly as the river currents in the background.

He pulled away and looked at her. “You are a hell of a woman,” he said, his eyes and voice both smoking with passion.

“Oh my,” she said and pulled him toward her.

When would he invite her to his place? When would they finally make love?

They lay back on the blanket. Surely not here? Though Vera was afraid she'd not say no. Could she? Would she? Here at the park?

“Hey!” Vera heard a sort of familiar voice yell. “Get a room!”

Vera and Eric sat up. How embarrassing! But as the person came closer, she could see that it was Bill, and she waved him off.

“Get lost, Bill,” she said, standing, feeling wobbly at the knee.

Bill stood there, placing his hands on his hips. “I'm not going anywhere. Get off my w—”

Vera stood. “I'm not your wife!”

“Calm down, Vera,” Eric said, now standing beside her, holding her arm.

She took a deep breath.

“What are you doing here, Bill?” Eric asked.

“Just out for a walk,” he said, eyeing Eric. “Dr. Green.”

Eric nodded.

“I've got nothing to say to you, Bill,” Vera said. “Not until you tell me why you donated your sperm to that place. And even then, I'm not sure I want you anywhere around me.”

“Do we have to do this here?” he said, nodding toward Eric.

“I'm not hiding anything from Eric. We have no secrets.”

Bill kicked around the dirt a little and looked up at her.

“I donated years ago, before I met Emily or Kelsey or any of them. Back when we were having problems. I just thought that I wanted a child of my own someday and—”

“It didn't look like I could give you one,” she said, her voice breaking.

Bill looked away from her. Eric reached for her hand.

“You said . . . you said it didn't matter. All those years. You said it didn't matter.”

Bill shrugged. “I'm sorry, Vera. I really did want a baby.”

Vera's hand went to her chest. “So did I,” she managed to say.

He walked toward her and reached for her. She sank closer to Eric and shook her head.

“When Alicorn contacted me and said Emily was interested in my sperm . . . because of my heritage—”

“You allowed it?” Vera almost shouted. “You would have allowed her to have your baby? A half sister to Elizabeth? The woman who almost destroyed me? Oh, God.”

Vera's mind sifted through the years of tenderness, the years of lies, the years of stagnation. The memories were swirling through her. He had betrayed her for the last time. Never again.

“Leave, Bill,” she said. “I really never want to see you again.”

“Vera, c'mon,” he said.

Eric spoke up. “Look, I've been trying to stay out of this, but the lady asked you to leave.”

Bill snorted and turned to go.

Vera fell into Eric's arms.

“How did you get messed up with that jerk?” Eric said.

“It's a long story,” she said. “I'm ready to put it behind me.”

“Hey,” he said, gathering the blanket and basket. “Let's get out of here.”

“Where do you want to go?” she said.

“I think it's time I brought you home.”

“Home?”

“Yeah, my place. C'mon,” he said, reaching for her hand and dragging her along.

“Shouldn't we talk about this?” Vera said after buckling her seat belt.

“I'm through talking, Vera. I love you, and I want you in my bed. Have a problem with that?”

“No. I don't have a problem with any of it,” she breathed.

She was a jumble of emotion. Bill had just confessed, basically, that their whole life together had been a lie. But, deep down, she had known it all along, hadn't she? It hurt, but at the same time it was freeing. She felt stronger than ever. She was a mother, a dancer, a daughter, and soon to be a lover.

When Eric led her up the stairs to his room, she swore she levitated. And when she looked back on it, she was still certain her feet had not touched the floor.

Turned out that some men were worth trusting and taking a chance on.