Let's Play Dead (28 page)

“I have been, every five minutes. The phone goes straight to voice mail.”

“Have you or Caitlin ever been to Hadley’s house before?” I tried to picture the three of them socializing and failed, but I held out some hope that Arabella might be able to navigate the lanes of Gladwyne.

No such luck. “No, Hadley’s always come into the city. We aren’t exactly friends, you know. Just between us, that lady is a royal pain in the ass,” Arabella said. Nolan snorted from the backseat.

Traffic inched forward again. Particles of sleet slid down my windshield, driven by the wind.

Arabella started talking softly. “I was so happy when Caitlin told me she wanted to work for me—there was a job opening at Let’s Play, and I truly believed she could handle it. She’d been doing so well, at Bishop’s Gate, and then at college. She could have found a job somewhere else—she has the skills—but I was so pleased when she came to me, I guess I didn’t ask too many questions. I thought maybe we could move past the early problems and maybe even be friends, if that’s possible for a mother and daughter.”

“And it’s been, what—two years now?”

“Going on three,” Arabella said proudly. “It may sound horrible of me, but her Asperger’s is actually an asset. She doesn’t usually have to work with people, but she’s very good with organizing things and following through. She’s terrific at keeping track of details. I had no qualms about letting her manage the exhibit process. I’m proud of her. Of course I kept an eye on her, but I didn’t interfere, and everything has gone smoothly.”

“I know she’s been really happy there,” Jason volunteered from the backseat, “especially since she’s been working on this exhibit.”

Arabella turned in her seat to look at him. “Thank you, Jason. I’m glad to hear that.”

“What about handling Hadley?” I asked.

Arabella gave a grim laugh. “After I’d met Hadley, I realized that
nobody
could manage her—people skills were irrelevant. Hadley is so absorbed in Hadley that she wouldn’t notice anyway. So, to the best of my knowledge, Caitlin had no problem dealing with her. At least, Hadley never complained, and I’m sure she would have if she could have found a reason.”

We all fell silent; the others were lost in their thoughts, and I was using all my attention to focus on the increasingly slippery road. After inching along at a snail’s pace for half an hour, the Gladwyne exit was finally approaching. I turned with a sigh of relief—and promptly slid down the ramp, managing to stop at the stop sign at the bottom of the slope only by pumping my brakes carefully for half its length. Luckily there were few other cars taking this exit, and few on the street in front of us. “Which way now?”

“Oh, that’s right—I have the instructions.” Arabella fished in her purse and pulled out a sheet of paper, squinting to read it. “Left, I think. Yes, left.”

I turned left, fishtailing only slightly. The two-lane road was poorly lit and slippery. “How far?” I asked, wrestling with the wheel and moving no faster than twenty miles an hour.

“It looks like two miles, and then you’ll turn right.”

It was definitely white-knuckle driving. We passed a road sign that showed a horse and rider, another clue that this was an upscale community. Probably a horse would be moving faster than I was at the moment. Still, I was in no hurry, and I saw no need to risk life and limb in order to find out what beef Hadley and Caitlin were hashing out.

The turn loomed on the right, and I slid into it, past a “Dead End” sign. If anything, the new road we were on was narrower and darker than the one we’d left, flanked by looming old-growth trees tossing in the wind. “How much farther?”

“About a half mile. The house should be on the right, if these instructions are accurate. The number’s 78.”

We crept along, peering through the bleared windows, looking at mailboxes and, in some cases, massive pillars flanking a drive. The houses were set back from the street, and based on the number of windows I could make out through the gloom, substantial in size. Nice neighborhood, or it would be if I could see it, but I was too busy trying to avoid hitting a tree.

“There!” Arabella pointed toward a mailbox. I pulled into the winding driveway—slick as glass—and crept along it until we reached what seemed to be the front of the house. From the look of it, every light in the place was on. There were two cars parked along the driveway. “That’s Caitlin’s,” Arabella said, pointing.

I parked behind it, turned off the motor, and sighed in relief. We’d made it this far. How we’d get back again, I refused to contemplate. Maybe Hadley would put us all up for the night. I had to suppress a hysterical giggle at that thought; I was pretty sure that Hadley would not be a willing hostess.

I carefully turned off the lights and removed the key. “Well, let’s go see what’s going on.”

We formed a rather shaky procession toward the door. No one had sanded the front steps—handsome slabs of stone, now coated with a thin, glistening sheet of ice. At least the front light was on, so we could see where to put our feet. Arabella and I inched up, each of us clinging to a rail on either side of the steps. Nolan and Jason brought up the rear. When we reached the top, Arabella pushed the doorbell, and somewhere inside the house we could hear a pompous bong-bong-bong echoing.

Arabella and I exchanged glances, and then she pounded on the door. “Hadley? Caitlin? Anybody home?”

“It’s open,” Caitlin answered from somewhere deep in the house. “We’re in the living room.”

I let Arabella go first. After all, this was her daughter and her problem; I was just the chauffeur. Nolan and Jason followed. We had to guess which way the living room lay—the house was long but shallow, presenting an impressive front to the driveway, but with little going on behind. Ersatz Tudor, probably early 1920s, I thought, as we navigated through a surfeit of exposed dark beams and roughtextured plaster, punctuated by heavy but dim wrought-iron light fixtures. The living room proved to be at the far end on the right side. We were guided in part by a holiday tree still set up against one wall, blazing with hundreds of small white lights, shining like a beacon down the dark hallway. As we came closer, I saw what I assumed were little animal ornaments dangling from the tree. When we came even closer, I realized that they were all tiny figures from the
Harriet
series. Maybe it was a permanent installation. I suppressed a shiver; it was supposed to be cute, but the figures actually made it look as though the tree was infested by vermin. Dead vermin, all hanging by their little necks.

When we reached the arched doorway to the room, I bumped into Arabella, who had stopped suddenly. I looked beyond to see Hadley and Caitlin, standing maybe five feet apart. But what was most noteworthy was that Caitlin was holding what I guessed was a Taser, not that I’d ever seen one up close before, and it was pointed at Hadley.

Then there was a loud crack, followed several seconds later by a thud that I could feel through the soles of my feet, and all the lights went out.

We all froze. The brief glimpse of Caitlin and Hadley
facing off in the living room was burned on my brain, but I wasn’t sure what we were supposed to do next. It was nearly pitch dark—which meant the power failure went beyond Hadley’s house. The neighborhood? The county? It didn’t matter. Here we were, stuck in the dark.

Arabella spoke first, her voice surprisingly calm. “Caitlin, what is going on here? What are you doing? Was that a Taser? Put it down, please!”

“Hello, Mother,” Caitlin replied in a surprisingly cheerful voice. “You didn’t have to bring everyone—I just wanted you to come. Dad, what are you doing here? And Jason? And . . . Nell?”

“I drove,” I said shortly. “We were all worried about you. Hadley, where are you standing?” I really wasn’t sure if the situation was dangerous or simply ridiculous, but there was no point in all of us bumbling around in the dark until we knew what was going on, and I didn’t want to risk running into a Taser.

“I’m over here,” Hadley responded. At least she hadn’t moved since we’d first seen her. “Will you tell this little bitch to put that thing down?”

Caitlin spoke up. “Sure I will, now that you’re all here. And it’s not even charged. I wasn’t sure she would stay put until you got here without it. But now that I’ve got witnesses, I don’t think Hadley’s going anywhere.”

“Caitlin, I was worried about you. Are you sure you’re all right?” Jason said anxiously.

“I’m fine, Jase. Really. Now you can all hear Hadley’s story,” Caitlin told him, in an incongruously cheerful voice.

“Darlin’, where the hell did you get that infernal device?” Nolan demanded.

There was a small clunk as Caitlin set something down on some invisible piece of furniture, on the side of the room away from Hadley. “It’s perfectly legal, you know. I got it when Jason and I moved to Camden—our neighborhood’s not the greatest. Jason, you didn’t need to come. I’ve got this under control.”

“She attacked me!” Hadley shrieked. “She came into my home and said she had to talk to me, and then she pulls out that . . . thing. She’s crazy! Do something! Call the police!”

“First things first,” I said firmly. “Hadley, do you have any flashlights?”

“Uh . . . there’s one in the kitchen, maybe, although I’m not sure when I changed the batteries. And another one upstairs next to my bed. I think.”

“Candles, maybe?”

“Oh, yes, I have candles—over there in the sideboard.”

In the darkness there was no way to see where she was pointing. “Can you find them for us, please?” I asked, gritting my teeth—and hoping she wouldn’t take the opportunity to bolt. At least there were several people between her and the door. I heard the sound of movement, then a thud and a muffled “sh . . . oot.” Then a drawer opening and the rasp of a match, and Hadley emerged from the gloom clutching a candle. “There are more,” she said.

“Then light them, will you?”

I could see well enough to notice the glare she sent my way, but she complied without comment, and shortly we had five stubby candles burning, arrayed on a low table in the center of the room—enough light to see by. I checked the room to find the Taser, sitting like a black beetle on a table several feet away from Hadley and Caitlin.

With light, we were ready to get down to business. Arabella began, “Caitlin, will you tell us why you thought it was necessary to come all the way out here and hold Hadley at . . . Taser point?”

“It got you here, didn’t it?” Caitlin said, and then turned contrite. “I’m sorry, I know it was wrong. But I was getting desperate. I mean, she’s the great Hadley Eastman, and I’m a little nobody at the museum. Everybody believes her, and nobody listens to me. And the exhibit was about to open—or not open, if this mess isn’t cleared up. I couldn’t handle the idea of all my—our hard work going to waste, just because Hadley didn’t want to take any responsibility for what happened.”

In a way it made sense to me. Caitlin had done a great job under difficult circumstances, and I couldn’t blame her for overreacting when it looked like it all might come to nothing. Maybe the Taser was a bit over the top, but as Caitlin had said, it had worked, and here we were.

Arabella looked from Caitlin to Hadley and back again. Then she straightened up and said gently, “All right, Caitlin, we’re listening now. What is going on?”

“She”—Caitlin pointed at Hadley—“she’s the one who sabotaged the exhibit. She’s the one who’s responsible for Joe Murphy’s death. The one who nearly killed Jason.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Hadley said. “Arabella, I hate to tell you, but I strongly suspect that your daughter is mentally unstable. Can’t you control her? If you don’t remove her from my house, I
am
going to call the police.”

“Hadley,” I said, “I’m not sure you want to do that—it would make all our lives a lot more complicated. I for one am willing to hear what Caitlin has to say. Besides, I don’t think they’d get here very fast, and I don’t think any of us will be leaving for a bit. If that crash was any indication, I think there’s a pretty big tree down out there.”

Caitlin gave me a long look, then nodded once. “Thank you, Nell. I don’t trust Hadley. I’m sure she could tell you a great tale and convince you of her side of things. After all, she’s a storyteller, or she used to be. I’m not as good with words. All that I ask is that you hear what I have to say. She”—Caitlin jerked her head toward Hadley—“can have her turn when I’m done.”

I looked critically at Caitlin. She seemed to be under control, and she knew she had our attention. Hadley, on the other hand, looked ready to foam at the mouth. “Then let’s all sit down,” I said.

Hadley rallied enough to bristle. “Excuse me, this is
my
house. Who are you to give orders?”

I spat back at her, “The sooner you sit down, Hadley, the sooner we’ll sort this all out.”

Arabella and Hadley both sat, as did I. Nolan and Jason stationed themselves against the wall on either side of the arched doorway. Nolan’s eyes were wary, but Jason focused only on Caitlin. Caitlin began to pace back and forth. I hated to admit it, but I did feel better having a couple of men watching my back, at least where Hadley was concerned. Nolan could probably be counted on to side with his daughter in any argument—I just hoped she had something worth hearing.

I cleared my throat. “Caitlin, you’ve accused Hadley of being a party to Joe’s death. What’s the story?”

Caitlin continued pacing back and forth, keeping a safe distance from Hadley. “Hadley and I have been working on this exhibit, what, two years now? She’s a bitch to work with.”

When Hadley started to protest, I gave her a look that shut her up. She could wait her turn.

“I know I’m not really good with people—I never have been,” Caitlin went on. “But Hadley was something else. I mean, she did
everything
she could to slow things down, mess things up—and then she tried to blame it on me. I had misunderstood her instructions, she said. I had forgotten to order something, or tell the workmen to do something. After a while I started making detailed notes after each meeting with her, just so I’d know it really wasn’t me. It wasn’t.”