Moving Can Be Murder (24 page)

She turned her face away from me and
whimpered, “I’m sorry, Carol. I’m truly sorry.

“And I guess the Good Lord had the last
laugh on me, because the house deal is off, anyway.”

I can be a little slow on the uptake
sometimes. I admit that.

Sometimes I only hear half of what’s been
said and immediately react, before I hear the whole story. I admit
that.

And I do tend to speak before I think about
what I’m saying. I admit that, too.

This time, I exercised as much self-control
as I could and willed my mouth to stay shut. I wanted to take Nancy
and shake her. I don’t think I’ve ever been as angry with her
before in our forty-plus year friendship. Even the time that she
started dating Richie Russo during freshman year of high school,
though she knew I had a major crush on him and used to pray each
night before I went to bed that he’d call and ask me out.

I wanted to be sure I understood exactly
what Nancy had told me.

“Let’s go over this again,” I said, using my
most adult voice. “You’re admitting that both you and Mary Alice
knew Jack Cartwright was the person driving the car that caused
Brian’s death. Mary Alice recognized him first, then told you.
When, pray tell, did this happen?”

“It was at the St. Patrick’s Day Open
House,” Nancy said. “Mary Alice had volunteered to help greet
people, so I’d be free to show prospective buyers around the house
and do what I was supposed to do – sell your house. She didn’t tell
me right away about Jack, because I guess she wasn’t sure. It had
been so many years since she’d seen him. And he went by ‘Johnny’
back then, not Jack.

“By the time she was positive ‘Jack’ and
‘Johnny’ were the same person, you and the Cartwrights had already
signed the preliminary papers to sell them your house.

“You know Mary Alice,” Nancy went on.

Well, I thought I did.

“She knew how much you and Jim wanted to
sell up and move to Eden’s Grove. And she figured, probably
correctly, that if you found out who Jack was, you might cancel the
deal out of loyalty to her. Well, I guess I have to take the blame
for that suggestion. But she agreed with me. We decided not to tell
you. ”

“I don’t see how you planned to keep all of
this a secret, not just from Jim and me, but from everybody else.
Fairport is a pretty small town. Word was bound to leak out.

“And how could Mary Alice bear the thought
that she could see the man who ruined her life shopping at the CVS
on any given day? She was bound to run into him sometime.”

“Mary Alice had a solution for that. She was
going to contact him and suggest they meet. So she could put the
past behind her, once and for all.

“They planned to meet at your house the
night before the closing.”

Ouch. Could this get any worse?

“Nancy,” I said with extreme patience, “what
you’re saying is that Mary Alice had both motive, and opportunity
to put Jack out of her life once and for all. Don’t you get
it?”

“I’m not stupid, Carol,” Nancy snapped back
at me. “Of course I know what this could look like to someone who
doesn’t know Mary Alice. But you and I know she doesn’t have a mean
bone in her body. She’s a nurse, for crying out loud. She’s trained
to save people, not hurt them. Or worse.”

“Why didn’t Mary Alice tell me herself?” I
asked. “It’s been a few days since Jack died, and she knows that
the house deal is definitely off. She even admitted to the police
that she was at my house that night. She had some nutty story about
waiting for me to come so we could hide something of mine there. So
there’d always be a part of me in the house. I don’t remember that
conversation at all. I wonder if she made the whole thing up, so
that if someone had seen her there late at night, she’d have an
explanation. Even though it was a lame one.

“This makes absolutely no sense to me.”

Nancy held out her cell phone to me.

“There’s only one way to find out. Call her
and tell her we’re coming over.”

She cranked the engine. “You talk, and I’ll
drive.”

The phone rang and rang at Mary Alice’s. She
didn’t answer.

“Maybe she’s not home,” I said to Nancy as
we sped up Beach Road toward Mary Alice’s condo.

“She’s home,” Nancy said. “I talked to her
this morning, before I left for the gym.” She pressed her foot down
on the accelerator and I held onto my seat belt for dear life.
“Nancy, slow down. All we need now is a speeding ticket!”

“You’re right, Carol,” Nancy said, easing
her foot back off the pedal just a little. “I’m just anxious to see
Mary Alice. I don’t know about you, but I’ll feel a little better
when the three of us talk this out and figure out a plan.”

“A plan?” I asked. “What kind of a
plan?”

“A plan to keep Mary Alice out of jail if it
turns out Jack was murdered.”

“You look like hell,” said Nancy, never one
to mince words. I had to agree with her assessment. Mary Alice’s
eyes were red and puffy, and she had the kind of dark circles below
them that indicated sleep had not visited her for quite a
while.

“I feel like hell, too,” she said. “Or like
I’m in the middle
of it.

“How are you doing, Carol?”

Nancy cut to the chase. “She knows, Mary
Alice. I told her that you recognized Jack Cartwright.”

Mary Alice started to cry. I think that, in
all the years I’ve known her, I’d never seen her cry before.

Wordlessly, I put my arms around her and
held her. That seemed to make the situation even worse.

“This is like going through Brian’s death
all over again. It’s all my fault,” Mary Alice said, sobbing into
my shoulder.

“Sweetie, how could this be your fault?”
Nancy asked, leading a still weeping Mary Alice to the living room
sofa.

“I should have told Carol and Jim who Jack
was. Even if it meant they called off the house sale.” She glared
at Nancy. “Come to think of it, not telling them was your idea, not
mine. I never should have listened to you.”

Nancy, for once, looked truly penitent.
“I’ve already told Carol that I gave you bad advice. You’re right.
It really is my fault. But now, what are we going to do?”

“You know what the ironic thing is?” Mary
Alice asked. “I chickened out and never contacted Jack. When I
thought about it some more, I realized it was a very bad idea. I
figured I’d just take my chances. If I ran into him anywhere around
Fairport, I could just walk the other way.”

She shuddered. “When I think of Jack lying
there inside, dying, I feel so terrible. I would have helped him,
if only I’d known he was there. I wonder if anyone will believe
that.

“Oh, God, what a mess this is.”

I had had enough of Mary Alice’s tears and
Nancy’s guilt. I know that sounds harsh, particularly due to my
overindulgence in the same behaviors myself.

Well, tough.

What I wanted now were answers. Because I
had plenty of questions.

“OK, kids. Let’s get everything out in the
open. No more secrets. Mary Alice, did you and I really agree to
meet at my house the night before the closing, or did you just say
that to the police in case somebody saw you there? You know my
memory isn’t very dependable these days.”

Mary Alice looked hurt. “Why don’t you
remember? You loved the idea of hiding a trinket in the house
before the closing, and asked me to come with you. You didn’t want
Jim to know because he’d think we were crazy.”

“I still don’t remember,” I said. “I’ve had
a few other things on my mind, you know. But why in the world did
you tell the police about it?” I asked. “Didn’t you realize being
at our house that night could make you look guilty?”

“Guilty? Of what? I had no idea Jack was
inside your house.”

Huh? Just a second ago Mary Alice was
blaming herself for Jack’s death.

“Anyway,” Mary Alice continued, “besides the
three of us, who’s going to know about my connection to Jack? And I
know you guys won’t say anything.”

“Of course we won’t, sweetie,” Nancy said,
patting her hand.

I looked at the two of them. What a pair. I
wondered if they both lived in Fantasyland instead of Fairport.

“I hate to burst your bubble,” I said, “but
this is bound to come out. I’m betting that Jack’s family knew, for
one. That includes Sara Miller, whom I saw getting very cozy with
that blabbermouth Phyllis Stevens at the gym this morning. If Sara
said something to Phyllis, it’ll be all over town in a
heartbeat.

“And as long as we’re sharing secrets, I
found out about your connection to Jack on my own, Mary Alice. I
just didn’t know how to talk to you about it.”

I proceeded to share my unpacking story with
Nancy and Mary Alice. And my discovery of the incriminating
newspaper article. When I got to the part about Lucy and Ethel’s
“disposal” of the article, I must have painted quite a vivid
picture, because all three of us howled with laughter for a good
five minutes.

“I guess we all needed that,” Nancy said.
“There’s nothing like a good laugh to clear out the brain and put
things into proper perspective.

“Now, we have some other things to figure
out. Like the preview party for the show house. Remember, we talked
about that, Carol?”

What? I’d forgotten something else?

“Nance, I have no clue what you’re talking
about. What’s a preview party? And shouldn’t we be coming up with a
plan to help Mary Alice?”

“I don’t know yet if I need help,” said Mary
Alice. “And to tell you the truth, I’m sick of thinking and
worrying about Jack. Just talking to you both has been so
therapeutic. No more secrets. No more guilt. We’re on the same wave
length again, and that’s all that matters.

“Now, to echo Carol, what exactly is a
preview party?”

“Before the designers come into a show house
and do their thing,” Nancy explained, “the sponsoring organization
holds a fancy black tie,

invitation-only party so guests can see the
empty house. The date’s already been set for this coming Saturday
night.”

“What?” I shrieked. “Jim and I are giving a
black tie party this weekend? How the heck do you expect us to pull
it off with such short notice? Are you nuts? Jim’s going to pitch a
fit when he hears about this.”

“Easy, Carol. You and Jim don’t have to do a
thing but dress up and show up. No cooking, no cleaning, no
decorating. All the arrangements have already been made.”

Now I was really confused.

“Don’t frown at me that way, sweetie,” Nancy
said to me. “At our age, frowning can cause permanent
wrinkles.”

Trust Nancy to know something like that. In
her quest to retain her trim figure and unlined face, she was
inclined to try every new product that came on the market. A
one-woman consumption machine.

“All right, already. I won’t frown. But I’m
still confused.”

“Me too,” said Mary Alice. “Although talking
about a party sure beats talking about…well, you know. And I guess
that if the preview party is going ahead, that must mean that the
police have OK’d using the house, right? Maybe the investigation is
over, and I can breathe a sigh of relief.”

“All I know is, my boss called the chief of
police and put a little pressure on,” Nancy said. “The next thing I
knew, we had the green light to hold the event and start the
renovations for the show house. Superior Interiors will be doing
the whole house, which is perfect because Marcia Fischer already
knows the property.

“It may seem to be happening super-fast,”
said Nancy, turning to me, “but remember that your house is a
last-minute venue substitute. The first home owners backed out
after all the preliminary arrangements had been made. Invitations
for the preview party had already gone out. We’re using Maria’s
Trattoria to cater the party, of course.”

“That makes me feel a little better,” I
said. “So Jim and I don’t have to do anything but show up? You’re
sure? You’re not going to spring something else on us at the last
minute, are you?

“And who are these guests anyway? Will we
know any of them?”

“There are about one hundred people coming
so far,” Nancy said. “As a matter of fact, when word got out that
we were using your house instead of the other one on Roseville
Road, the phones at the real estate office and Sally’s Place
started ringing off the hook. More people want to come. We may have
to turn people away.

“Oh, by the way, you should know we’re
charging one hundred and fifty dollars a person to tour your empty
house. It all goes to support Sally’s Place.”

“Wow,” I said.

“Wow is right,” said Nancy, warming to her
subject even more. “This could be the biggest event to hit Fairport
in years. The national media attention alone will be tremendous.
We’ll sell your house for sure after this is over.”

“National media attention?” I repeated. “I’m
not sure how Jim will react to that. He was pretty upset to find
himself a media star, even though it was only for a short time. If
it happens again, he’ll freak out for sure.”