Death on a Silver Platter (21 page)

31

On Saturday evening, Danny stood at the window in his bedroom, cell phone in hand, talking to his wife back in New York. It was an hour later on the East Coast, which meant it was a little after eleven in Manhattan. Ruth never turned in before midnight. She was a night owl, a late-night reader, just as he was.

“Tracy’s funeral is set for Monday,” he said, sitting down on the bed. He kicked off his shoes, then lay back, his head propped up by a stack of old feather pillows. “We’ll do Mom’s memorial service back at the house later in the afternoon.”

“Danny, this is such a shock. How’s Elaine doing?”

“She’s devastated. We all are. I told you Tracy was pregnant, didn’t I?”

“But no one knows who the father is.”

“Mick insists he never slept with her. On their wedding night, she tried to kill herself. Not a very auspicious beginning to a marriage. The thing is, Elaine is convinced that the man who molested Tracy all those years ago molested her again last summer. She thinks that’s who the father is. She’s rounding up everyone who’s been around Tracy, demanding that they take a blood test.”

“Surely she’s not including you in that.”

“Me
and
Alex.”

“My God, she thinks you or your brother could have molested her daughter?”

“It’s killing her, but yes, that’s exactly what she’s afraid of. Alex and I went down this morning and had the test.”

“How humiliating.”

“If it will set her mind at rest, it’s fine with me. The police will need to get a court order to force Zander to give blood.”

“Can they do that?”

“I suppose. He’s still the prime suspect in both murders. What kind of surprised me was that Doc Holland was supposed to meet us at the hospital this afternoon, but he never showed. Elaine wants him to have the same test.”

“Do you think he has something to hide?”

“A sickening thought.”

“You must hate being there, sweetheart . . . with all that suspicion in the air.”

“I’ll be home soon.”

“Not soon enough for me. You haven’t—”

“No. And I’m not going to. There’s no point.”

Danny reached over and switched off the light. In the dark, he could imagine that Ruth was lying next to him. He curled himself around her voice. “Look, honey, I’ve booked a flight out of here on Tuesday morning.”

“Is Alex still determined to sell the company?”

“Yes.” He sighed. “Elaine is against it, of course. I guess I’m the tiebreaker.”

“What will you do?”

“I haven’t decided. But . . . there’s something I haven’t told you. Something that will probably have no bearing on what happens to Veelund Industries, but . . .”

“What is it? You’re scaring me.”

“Alex had a long talk with Mom before she died. Seems that she had an affair while she and my dad were married. She told him that one of us was fathered by another man.”

Ruth was silent. After a long moment, she said, “How . . . incredibly . . . awful. Danny, I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah.”

“Who is it? Which one of you?”

“She wouldn’t say.”

“Oh, God. That’s so like her. Who’d she have the affair with?”

“I don’t know. Frankly, I’m not even sure I believe the story. Mom wanted to sell the company. Apparently she told Alex that she’d signed a prenup before she married my father—if he was my father. If he died, or if they got divorced, she signed away all claim to his business. She would be taken care of financially, but of course, we all know the cash cow in the family was Veelund Log Lodges. Except, after they were in that car accident, after Dad was gone, she couldn’t find the agreement.”

“Oh, right. We all believe that.”

“She told Alex that she wanted to sell the company just in case the prenup ever resurfaced. That way, the money would be legally in her name and she could pass it on. If we inherit through her will, we’re all legitimate children. See, Dad’s will left the company to his children—I believe the term was his ‘issue’.”

“Kind of an old-fashioned way to put it.”

“But it’s clear. And if Mom wasn’t lying, then one of us, according to that agreement, would be cut out of any inheritance.” Danny rolled over on his side, cupping the phone between the pillows and his ear. “Alex finally told Elaine about it at dinner tonight. I thought he might wait until after the funeral, but she started talking about what a bad idea it was to sell the company, so he probably felt he didn’t have a choice.”

Ruth hesitated. “How did Elaine take it?”

“Hard to say. She drank a lot of wine; by the end of the meal, she’d pretty much stopped talking. We all had. There’s so much tension in the air around here that we’re walking on tiptoes. One offhanded comment at the wrong time could create a spark that would blow the roof off. So many subjects are off limits, it’s hard to carry on a normal conversation.”

“And I thought
my
family was the last word on neurosis.”

Danny laughed.

“Thankfully, our kids are sane,” said Ruth.

“Speaking of kids, is Zoe coming home anytime soon?”

“She’s here right now. Took the train down this morning. She isn’t going back until Tuesday evening.”

“What about her classes?”

“She doesn’t have anything on Mondays this quarter. One of her Tuesday classes got canceled, and she moved a meeting with a professor—”

“The independent study?”

“Right. She moved the meeting to next Friday. So if you get home early on Tuesday, you can spend part of the day with her.”

Danny had been thinking of calling Zoe. “Is she there right now?”

“She’s watching a movie in the study.”

“Honey, I’d like to talk to her for a minute.”

“Sure. I’ll go get her.”

Danny flipped on his back. He could imagine his wife padding down the carpeted hallway in her bedroom slippers. The light in the den would be off. Zoe would be lying on the couch with all the windows open. She was just like him. She liked fresh air, even if it seemed too hot or too cold. Central Park was just a few blocks away. If he were home by Tuesday afternoon, they could all take a walk together. Maybe stop and have coffee. Danny wanted his normal life back. Staying in Minnesota even another day seemed like too much to ask. And yet he had to stay. He had to play this through to the end, wherever it led.

A second later, Zoe came on the line. “Hey, Dad.”

“Hi, sweetheart. How’s your love life?” It was his standard opening, and it never failed to illicit a groan.

“Oh, Dad. Nothing’s new. I told you. I don’t have a boyfriend right now. I’m too busy.”

“Too busy for love?”

“You’re such a sap.”

“Maybe. But trust your old man. Loving well is the best part of life.”

“Maybe you should crochet me a pillow with that message on it.”

“Maybe I should.”

They both laughed.

“Look, honey, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you. It’s serious, so I expect you to take a minute to think about it before you answer.”

“What?”

“Okay. When you’ve come here to Minnesota, to my mother’s place, has anyone ever . . . acted inappropriately with you?”

“You mean sexually?”

“Yeah. Sexually.”

“You mean, as in . . . a perv?”

“Well—”

“Tried to drag me into the bushes?” She laughed.

“I’m not joking.”

“No, Dad. Nobody ever tried that.”

“How about with your sister?”

“No. And she would have told me. She can’t keep a secret.”

“Okay.”

“You’re asking me because of Tracy, right?”

“Did Mom tell you?”

“I never knew, Dad, but then, Tracy and I were never very close. But . . .”

“But what?” He felt the muscles in his neck tighten.

“Well, there was this one thing. Abbie and I were riding dirt bikes around the property one afternoon. I was maybe, oh, eleven. Abbie would have been eight. It was right after Aunt Elaine had the smaller log houses built. Anyway, we stashed our bikes in the tall grass near Wisteria Cottage. We didn’t think anybody was around, so we walked up to the front door. It was locked, of course. Abbie spotted a rabbit and took off after it, but I stayed. I walked around looking at the house for a while and that’s when I saw that one of the back windows was open. The screen pushed up real easily, so I hoisted myself up and climbed through. I’d never seen the inside. I remember thinking I’d like to live there. And then I thought, hey, this would make a great secret fort. I mean, Elaine was hardly ever around. The place had lots of furniture, so it was comfortable. There was even a TV. And I found some Coke in the refrigerator. You never let us drink Coke, so I felt totally cool—you know,
bad
—when I opened one of the cans. Like it was heroin or something.” She laughed. “I kind of drifted around, imagining what Abbie and I could do with the place, and I ended up in the living room. I knew I couldn’t make a mess, or people would find out that it was our new hideout. At some point, Abbie started banging on the front door, calling my name. She was scared because I’d disappeared. As soon as I let her in, she demanded that I share the Coke. So to keep her happy, I let her drink it. I told her that this was going to be our new secret place. We both got really into it. She sat under the kitchen table for a while. I scoped out the bedroom—I was looking for hiding places—and that’s when I found it.”

“What did you find?”

“A floorboard was loose in one of the closets. I ran to the kitchen and got a fork, and Abbie and I pried it up. It wasn’t hard. Actually, it was two boards. And underneath we found all these pictures of girls, probably around Abbie’s age. They were all naked. Some of the pictures had adults in them. I’d never seen anything like it before. I know now that it was child porn, but at the time, Abbie and I just thought it was weird. We sat there on the floor in the closet for maybe ten minutes, just flipping through them.”

“I wish you’d told me.”

“God, we would have been
so
embarrassed.”

“Did you recognize any of the children?”

“No. But while we were sitting there we heard the front door open. I was so scared I almost wet my pants. Abbie and I scrambled out the bedroom window so fast we didn’t even look back. Needless to say, we never went back.”

“Did you see who came in?”

“No.”

“Did you put the pictures back?”

“We didn’t have time.”

“So, whoever came in must have known you were looking at them.”

“I imagine.”

“Nobody ever said anything to you? Looked at you funny?”

“Not that I remember.”

“Did you see a car when you were running from the house?”

“There were no cars around. I’m sure of that.”

“So whoever came in must have walked. And they must have had a key.”

“I suppose. Who had keys to the place?”

“Elaine. And she kept a set of keys to the model homes on a hook in the kitchen at the main house. Anyone could have taken them—or made copies.”

“Do you think the person who hid the porn was the same perv who molested Tracy?”

“I think it’s a good guess.”

“God, I hope they nail that guy’s knees to the floor.”

“Me, too,” said Danny, taking a deep breath. “Guys like that don’t deserve to live.”

32

An ample woman with a sweet, reedy voice delivered the graveside address at Tracy’s funeral. Sophie stood with Bram and her mom and dad, looking around at the crowd of mourners who’d come to pay their last respects. Most of the faces were middle-aged or old, suggesting that Tracy hadn’t had many close friends.

It was a lovely, cloudless fall morning, temperatures in the low sixties, but Sophie felt chilled to the bone. She gathered her coat more closely around her body, folded her arms over her chest, and gazed sadly at the casket. We love our children so much, partly because they exist outside the realm of cynicism. She’d been greedy for that innocence when her own son was a boy. What struck her most about this young woman’s loss was that Tracy’s innocence had been stolen from her, and now someone had ended her chances of a happier future—of any future at all.

On the other side of the raised platform holding the casket, Margie and Mick stood together, hand in hand. Mick was crying silently, scraping tears away from his face. Sophie hadn’t seen much of Margie since she’d moved into the spare bedroom, though she knew that Margie and Mick had become almost inseparable. Mick was a millionaire now, slated to inherit his dead wife’s money in a matter of days, but he didn’t seem to be thinking about that at the moment. He appeared to be truly grieving Tracy’s loss. Sophie’s heart went out to him.

Next to Margie and Mick were Alex and Roman. They weren’t holding hands, but they stood with their shoulders pressed together. As the minister continued talking, Roman removed his sunglasses and nodded to her. Sophie glanced around to see if there was anyone else he might be looking at. But no, he appeared to be looking straight at her. Alex turned to Roman, then followed his gaze. He nodded to Sophie, too, but immediately returned his attention to the minister. Roman replaced his sunglasses, but Sophie had a feeling he was still watching her.

Elaine stood at the head of the casket, next to the minister. Nathan was right behind her, his head bowed. Elaine’s face was strained but controlled. No tears escaped her eyes. A handkerchief was balled in her right fist, but she didn’t use it. To her direct left was Doc Holland. He leaned heavily on his cane, his face red with perspiration. Danny stood on the same side as Sophie, so all she could see of him was the back of his blond head. She was a little surprised that his wife and kids hadn’t come out for the funeral.

Finally, the minister was done talking. Before the casket was lowered into the ground, she asked everyone to say the Lord’s Prayer with her. People bowed their heads. Sophie felt Bram’s hand slip around her own.

By noon, the crowd was starting to disperse. Everyone was supposed to head back to the church for a lunch provided by the First Lutheran Women’s Circle. Sophie approached Elaine as she was walking back to her car. Nathan was already sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” asked Sophie.

Elaine turned to her, giving her a hug. “Thanks for coming.”

“You know how sorry I am.”

“It’s a horror, Sophie. An absolute horror. I think I’m still in shock.”

“This is probably a bad time, but . . . I’d like to bring my mother out to talk to you and your family.”

“You’re right, this isn’t—”

“It’s important. Very important. Look, to make a long story short, I found a notebook of my mother’s while she was out of the country. Actually, I came across it just last week. She wrote about the night your dad died. I think . . . I mean . . . she’s got some information you and your family need to hear.”

“If it’s about the affair my mother had, we already know. She told Alex before she died. One of us was fathered by another man.”

Sophie held her eyes. “It’s more than that, Elaine. I think you need to hear what my mom’s got to say.” She looked over at the car. Nathan was watching them.

“Okay,” said Elaine reluctantly. “Might as well do it today. My life can’t get any worse than it is right now. We’re doing Mom’s memorial service—spreading her ashes by the creek—at three. Why don’t you and your mother come out around four? Danny and Alex will still be around.”

“I think you’ll want this to be a private conversation.”

Elaine glanced at Nathan. “He won’t be there for Mom’s memorial. It’s just family.”

“Then we’ll see you at four.”

Danny led Sophie and her mother into the living room. Alex was seated on one of the couches, still wearing his dark gray suit. As a sop to comfort, if there was such a thing on a day like this, he’d taken off his tie. Elaine sat next to him. They both had martini glasses in their hands. As soon as Sophie and her mom entered, they stopped talking.

“Would either of you like something to drink?” asked Danny.

Sophie shook her head.

“No thanks,” said Pearl.

With her nerves doing a number on her stomach, Sophie lowered herself onto an ottoman. Her mother chose a chair facing the couch. Danny stepped over to the cold fireplace and rested his back against the stones.

No one spoke.

Finally, twisting her wedding ring back and forth on her finger, Pearl said, “Thank you for letting me come. This isn’t easy for me. I never expected to have this conversation with any of you.” She kept her eyes on the ring. “I care about all of you, you know that.”

“You loved our father,” said Alex, setting his glass down on a log coffee table in front of him. “My sister told me that the two of you had been engaged once.”

“A long time ago. That’s right.”

Studying Elaine, Sophie could tell that the martini she held in her hand wasn’t her first—or even her third. She might not be drunk, but she wasn’t far from it.

“Get to the point,” said Elaine. “Save us the trouble of a blood test. Which one of us isn’t his kid?”

Pearl looked up. “If you’ll all allow me a couple of minutes, I’d like to tell you about the night your father died. There are some things you need to understand. I was the last person to talk to him. We spoke for quite a while that last night. We took a drive together before the weather turned bad. And later, when I found him pinned behind the wheel of his car after the crash, I stayed with him until he died.”

“Just get on with it,” said Elaine, motioning for Alex to refill her glass.

“I think you’ve had enough,” said Alex. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Tahtinen. Elaine’s . . . not herself today. She’s usually more polite.”

Lurching off the couch, Elaine grunted. “You don’t have to make excuses for me. I just lost my daughter— and my mother. And now, maybe I’ve lost my father. I’d have to be made of iron not to want to anesthetize myself after the last few days.” She poured another drink from the martini shaker, added a handful of olives, then stumbled back to the couch. “Go on. Don’t let my enormously appropriate self-pity stop you.”

Pearl waited until she’d resumed her seat before continuing. “The night your dad died, he received a note from a private investigator, a man he’d hired to find some information for him. Midway through the evening, I saw one of the hired staff walk up to your father. The man carried a silver platter with an envelope on it. Your dad took the envelope and went immediately to his study. I’d been watching Carl all night because he seemed upset. He was drinking heavily, which wasn’t like him. I thought he should be happy—he’d just built the house of his dreams. That night was a celebration, a party, a time when he should have been glowing with pride and satisfaction. I followed him and, from a crack in the doorway, watched him open the note. Whatever it said left him looking desolate. He crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the wastebasket next to his desk, then left the room. Maybe you’ll think this was completely out of line, but I went into the study and read the note. You’re right. I did love your father and I couldn’t stand to see him in pain. I didn’t understand the information he’d been given, didn’t understand what was written on the note, so I went to find him.”

“What did the note say?” said Alex, leaning slightly forward.

“A plus,” said Sophie. “When Mom told me, I thought it must be a grade.”

“But it was a blood type,” said Elaine.

Pearl nodded.

“Whose?” she demanded.

“I’ll get to that in a minute,” said Pearl.

“No,
now,
” said Elaine, spilling part of her drink down the front of her dress. “We’ve waited long enough.”

Pearl glanced at Sophie for support, but all Sophie could do was shrug. She felt Elaine had a right to know.

“Do you understand blood typing?” asked Pearl. “It’s fairly complex.”

“Just tell us!” shouted Elaine.

Pearl looked from face to face. “Okay,” she said finally. “Your mother was pregnant when she married your father. In the back of his mind, your dad always wondered if it was his child.”

“You mean
me,
” said Alex. “I’m the one?”

Sadly, Pearl nodded. “He thought the sun rose and set on all of you. He’d always wanted children, and your mother knew that. That was how she hooked him—how she drew him into the marriage. And that’s what he found out that night. Carl’s blood type was B—or BB. Your mother’s was BO. There’s no way he could have fathered a child with an A blood type.”

Alex stared at her, then bent his head.

“I’m so sorry,” said Sophie.

“I’ve always known. In my gut, I’ve always
always
known.”

“Let me continue,” said Pearl.

“There’s more?” asked Elaine, clearly impatient with her slowness.

“There are things you need to understand.”

Without speaking, Danny sat down on the arm of the couch next to Alex.

“First, that Carl told me it didn’t matter. That Alex was his son, no matter what any blood test said. I won’t lie to you. I won’t tell you that the news didn’t devastate him. But it didn’t change the way he felt.”

“Right,” muttered Alex.

“You have to believe that,” said Pearl. “You knew, in your heart, how utterly devoted your dad was to you. To all of you.”

“Cut to the chase,” said Elaine, finishing her drink in one gulp.

“When I went looking for your father, I found him outside in his car, ready to drive away. I knew he was too drunk to drive, so I made him move over and I took the wheel. We were gone, oh, maybe an hour. In that time, he didn’t talk much, but on the way back to the house, he said that he was going to ask your mother for a divorce.”

“That night?” asked Alex.

“Yes. As soon as we got home, he dragged her off to have a talk. The weather had turned so nasty that I found Henry and Sophie and told them that I thought we should leave. But we got sidetracked, and then, when I went outside to look for Henry, I was told that Carl and Millie had just left in their car. According to what the valet told me, Carl was driving. The roads were getting worse by the minute. I panicked. I knew Carl was in no shape to drive. And I wondered why he’d left with Millie.”

“Why had he?” asked Alex.

“They’d had a terrible fight. Your father said that he was afraid that if he didn’t get out of the house, that . . . he might hurt her. So he took off. But she followed him. He’d asked her for a divorce, but she wanted to talk him out of it. She begged for his forgiveness. He just kept driving faster and faster. When they skidded into that field, your mom jumped out of the car. It’s what saved her life. I arrived a few minutes after the car had hit the tree. I wanted to go for help, but Carl knew he was dying and he didn’t want to die alone. So I stayed. We talked, or rather he did. There were some things he wanted me to know—and something he wanted me to do.”

“What?” said Elaine. She was mesmerized now, no longer impatient.

“He said that Millie had been unfaithful more than once. That Alex wasn’t the only one who wasn’t his biological child.”

The silence in the room pressed on them all.

“Who?” said Alex.

Pearl drew her purse into her lap. “I’m sorry, Elaine, but—”

Elaine gasped. “No! I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true,” said a voice from the front foyer.

Turning around, Sophie saw Doc Holland walk slowly, painfully into the room.

“You!” said Elaine, throwing her empty glass at him. It missed him by yards, smashing into a painting hanging on the wall.

“
You’re
our father?” said Alex, clearly dumbfounded.

“I wanted to tell you. So many times. But Millie . . . she wouldn’t even consider it. And I was afraid of what you’d all think of me when you found out, and afraid that I’d lose Millie forever. I’m a coward. I admit it. But I never meant to hurt your father. He was my friend. My dear friend. That’s why it was so painful. I was put in this position . . . I mean, I was only trying to help—trying to comfort the only woman I ever loved. I never meant—” He sank into a chair, looking ravaged. Ashamed. Ashen.

“Did Dad . . . I mean Carl . . . know that you’d fathered us?” asked Alex.

“No,” said Pearl. She looked a little dazed. “Carl had no idea who the man was.”

Doc Holland wiped his face with a handkerchief. “It was . . . complicated. I loved Millie, but she loved Carl. Millie was pregnant when she married him. She said the baby was his, and I believed her—until little Alex went to the hospital with a bad fever. You were just two years old. I wasn’t your physician, but I happened to glance over your chart one day and noticed your blood type. I knew what Millie’s was, and I knew what Carl’s was. And I knew you couldn’t be his son. That’s when I confronted her. My blood type is AA. I demanded to know if you were my son, Alex. Your mother said she didn’t know. That she didn’t want to know. But she told me she was desperate. Carl wanted more children. She’d been trying to get pregnant again ever since you were born. Nothing was happening. She was so sad, so distraught. Carl was gone a lot and I was angry at him for that, so we started getting together in the evenings, just for a drink. I was just trying to help her through a bad patch, but one thing led to another and we began an affair that lasted about six months. I really thought she’d leave Carl. It would have been for the best. But when she got pregnant again she ended the affair. I saw then that she was just using me.”