Organized to Death (11 page)

After dinner, Brandon took her to his condo on Belleview Avenue. They took off their coats in his slightly messy living room, and he took her hand and led her to the bedroom. His place was decorated in typical manly style, leathers and wood abounded, and dark colors. She wondered if Leslie helped him, she who had the degree from the Rhode Island School of Design—actually, a graduate degree in “Interior Architecture.”

Why was she thinking about his décor right now? To avoid thinking about her relationship with him? He started undressing her, kissing her neck, her breasts as he went. This was standard operating procedure, but her body still responded to his familiar touch. He did care for her, was always careful, treating her like fragile antique glassware. And he gave her time to respond to him, to forget everything else.

His hands glided down toward her waist, and he helped her remove her panties, then guided her to the bed. She lay down, and he undressed himself. When he climbed in next to her, he pulled her toward him and kissed her lips, then her breasts. His fingers walked down her stomach, and she let her legs part slowly. She rubbed his chest, moving her hand down to his pubic hair and combing it with her fingers. He shuddered. They played with each other for a long time, until neither could stand it anymore and she begged him to enter her, to take her.

When they finished and rested against the fluffy, oversized pillows, she realized how good the sex had been. Why would she ever want anything more? A respected defense lawyer, rich, good-looking and considerate. She sighed deeply.

“What?” Brandon asked.

She smiled. “You make me feel so good.”

“I’m glad. We could do it again, but I have court tomorrow.”

Okay, he wasn’t overtaken with passion, either. That was what was missing. Passion. Passion so strong that they’d forget everything else except each other. That only seemed to happen at the very end of their lovemaking. Was it enough?

She sat up, gathered her clothes, and put them on.

Tina sighed. Not from satisfaction this time, but Brandon didn’t ask. He was intent on getting dressed himself, carefully combing his hair, finding his keys.

At her front door, he gave her a quite satisfactory kiss. It didn’t leave her breathless or even muss her hair, though.

Neither Uncle Bob nor her mother was downstairs when she got in, so she went to her room, checked the clock, and decided it wasn’t too late to start calling the daughters.

She called Leslie, Brandon’s sister, first. She hadn’t seen her in a while.

“Tina! How are you? It’s great to hear from you!” It always amazed Tina how different Brandon and Leslie were. Brandon, almost stiff, dignified since he was a little boy—it was so cute then—and Leslie, outgoing, effervescent.

“I’m fine, Leslie. How are you?”

“I’m great, just great. Business has picked up in the last month, and I can hardly keep up. How’s the organizing biz going?”

“I just realized—you decorate, I organize. We can recommend each other to clients. We need to exchange business cards to hand out.”

“Great idea! Although I’m not sure I can do much more business. I may have to hire an assistant.”

“That’s good news. Listen, the reason I called is I wonder if you’d like to have lunch with me and a few others on Saturday. You busy then?”

“Let’s see. That would be fine—nothing scheduled for this Saturday. I tried to leave it open—I’ve been working too many weekends. What’s the occasion? Who else are you inviting?”

“This is going to sound odd, but I want everyone to think about it before Saturday, if we can all get together.” Tina paused.
How to put it
? “I’m inviting all the daughters of the Lunch Bunch. I think the Bunch has a hidden agenda, and I’m dying to find out what it is.”

“Really? I never thought about it.”

“Neither have I until recently. They only get together once a month, they never pair off, and I think they all pretty much hover over us daughters.”

“Yeah, well, Tina, that’s not much. But I’d be glad to get together with the daughters. Of the revolution?” She laughed.

“Maybe.” Tina laughed, too. “Anything to get them to stop trying to run our lives, right?”

“You have a point, I admit. I’m looking forward to Saturday!”

“Wonderful. Noon at La Forge.”

“I’m writing it down. See you then!”

Tina called Rachel next. She was glad she had her cell phone number so she wouldn’t get Mrs. Morris on the line.

Rachel answered on the second ring. “Tina? How are you?”

“Hi, Rach. I’m fine. How are
you
doing?”

“I’m okay. A little bored, believe it or not.”

“Well, yeah, I can imagine. So, how about having lunch with me and some other girls on Saturday?”

“That would be nice. I’d like that. Thanks for thinking of me.”

“Frankly, I’m thinking about everyone I’m inviting because of the Lunch Bunch.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Didn’t your mother have the Bunch over last night? To play Spades, of all things?”

“Yes. But I don’t understand. Why shouldn’t they play cards together?”

“Have they ever done that before, to your knowledge?”

“No. But maybe they were trying to cheer up my mother.”

Tina blinked. She hadn’t thought of that. But then she remembered Laura’s reaction when she questioned her.

“I think there’s more to it, so I’m asking the other daughters to have lunch together so we can compare notes. Saturday at La Forge.”

“I’ll be there. Thanks for asking me.”

“You’re welcome. You’re certainly part of this sisterhood, whatever it turns out to be. See you Saturday.”

It was getting late, and Tina hesitated about calling Brenda. She’d better call her and see if she was free Saturday. If not, she wanted to change the time with the other two.

Brenda seemed surprised to hear from her. Tina realized that they usually only got together when they saw each other at the club or somewhere else, like Dr. Ted’s office, and made plans to meet for lunch or shopping. Rarely did they call one another.

“What’s up?” Brenda asked.

“I’m getting a luncheon together with the Lunch Bunch daughters,” Tina said. Why beat around the bush? Especially with Brenda, who was always so straightforward.

“Oh,” Brenda said. “Any particular reason?”

“Yeah. I think they have a secret, and I want to figure out what it is.”

“Wow! What makes you think that?”

Tina explained. “And my mother was quite evasive when I questioned her about it and about why they were having that extra get-together to play Spades, of all things.”

“Yeah. That was weird.”

“I thought so. So, will you come? Saturday at noon?”

“Aren’t you working for Dr. Ted Saturday?”

“Yes, but I have to have lunch, don’t I? And I charge by the hour, so it’ll be okay.”

“Sure, I’ll come. So that’s who? Leslie, Rachel, you, and me? Oh, that’s strange, Tina. I just realized that with Crystal, um, dead, that means two of the Lunch Bunch daughters are no longer alive.”

“Hope it’s not a trend,” Tina said with a shaky laugh.

“Me, too. Adds a bit of urgency to finding out why they meet every month, doesn’t it?”

“Well, my understanding was that Sally died of cancer. No way her death could be connected to Crystal’s murder.”

“No, I guess not. But I’m still very curious.”

“Good. Then we’re all set for Saturday noon at La Forge.”

“I’ll be there,” Brenda said, and they hung up.

A feeling of sudden exhaustion overcame Tina. Too much excitement, too many unanswered questions. She didn’t even bother to shower but changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed. But her mind wouldn’t shut down. Who killed Crystal? What secret was the Lunch Bunch keeping? Could the two possibly be connected?

Friday she slept late. Downstairs, the kitchen was empty, but the newspaper was folded neatly on the table, so she knew Uncle Bob had already had his breakfast and read it.

Crystal’s murder had been relegated to page three because there was nothing new to report. How could the police have no new leads?

After leaving a note for her mother and Uncle Bob, Tina left to do some errands. She just couldn’t face Dr. Ted’s kitchen today, and she needed shampoo and toothpaste. Maybe some new pajamas.

She was browsing in a Thames Street shop when she noticed Hank’s mother over by the perfume counter. Mitzi looked haggard, maybe ill. She was wearing gray wool slacks and a heavy, dark blue parka. It looked as if she had rubbed her dirty hands on her pant legs, and Tina noticed the parka was none too clean, either. When she was growing up, Tina had always been surprised to see Mitzi in such a state. Sally had been immaculate, as was Hank. And so was Mitzi, most of the time. Now with her knowledge of psychology, Tina figured Hank’s mother was often clinically depressed. She wished there was some way to help her.

“Mrs. Silver, how are you?” Tina said. Her first impulse had been to flee without being noticed, but curiosity got the better of her.

“I’m fine,” Mitzi replied in her wispy voice. “How are you, dear?” Although Mitzi usually appeared vague, Tina had noticed that she always gave her a careful once-over whenever they met, as if looking for a sign of anything being wrong. With her heath, Tina suddenly realized. She’s worried about my health because her own daughter died of cancer.

“I’m doing okay. I started a business—did my mother tell you?”

“Yes, she did. Last night when we played cards.”

Rather sharp today, Tina thought, except for how she’s dressed. No hesitation about saying they played cards. Well, maybe they did.

“Is that going to be a new thing, playing cards?” Tina asked.

Mitzi looked off into space. “I imagine so.” Her voice was so low Tina barely heard her.

She was tempted to press, but the fear of sending the woman over the edge stopped her.

Suddenly, Hank turned onto their aisle and joined his mother. “There you are,” he said in an uncharacteristically jovial voice. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Didn’t I tell you I was going shopping?” Mitzi asked.

“No, Mom, you didn’t.” He took her arm.

“I was sure I said something ……” She glanced around as if surprised to see where she was.

Tina and Hank’s eyes met, and Tina realized the sympathy she felt shone in hers. Hank looked away and gently pulled his mother toward the shop door. “Nice to see you, Tina,” he said.

“You, too. ‘Bye, Mrs. Silver.”

Mitzi didn’t answer.

Tina turned back to the small selection of night clothes and quickly looked through them. Nothing appealed and she left, feeling a bit sick to her stomach. She was sure now that when Mitzi disappeared, it was into some mental hospital. Why she’d never seen it before, she didn’t know. Perhaps it was Crystal’s murder and the unexpected meeting of the Lunch Bunch that got her to thinking more clearly.

She stepped out into cold fresh air that stung her cheeks. She loved Newport, but she had begun to realize that people from New England just didn’t talk about certain things. Murder and mental illness being two of them. She remembered her conversations last night with Leslie, Rachel, and Brenda. Were they all becoming their mothers?

Tina shivered when a gust of wind blew at her. Clutching her camelhair coat closer, she walked to her car. She had never felt at such loose ends before.

When Tina looked out her window Saturday morning, she saw a light dusting of snow on the ground making the neighborhood appear to be a fairyland. Most of the old Victorian homes had been freshly painted and repaired, at least on the outside. The streetlights cast delicate shadows in the dim light that still glowed because they worked automatically now.

She’d been so bored yesterday and was glad to have something to do, finally. She liked it that she could dress in casual clothes for her job, and she put on jeans, a t-shirt, and a dark green blazer over the tee. Thick socks and short brown boots completed the outfit.

She clumped down the back stairs and found both Uncle Bob and her mother seated at the table, each reading a section of the newspaper.

She touched Uncle Bob’s shoulder. When he looked up at her, she asked, “What’s new?”

He smiled. “Nothing much, Kumquat. The earth is still spinning, there are still wars going on all over, they’re still debating global warming, and the police chief has nothing to say to the press about Crystal. Well, it’s snowing a smidgen, but I figure you already know that, and there’s no mention of it in the paper. I guess the weatherman forgot to look out the window again before reporting.”

Tina smiled. “Still nothing about Crystal?” She put a piece of bread in the toaster.

“Nada.”

“Not even when the funeral is going to be?”

“No,” Laura said. “It’s most aggravating. I feel sorry for Nora. And Rachel. They can’t even begin to get this behind them until they can bury poor Crystal.”

Poor Crystal?
She’d never heard Crystal referred to that way before.
Brash Crystal, crass Crystal, arrogant, demanding, domineering Crystal.
Tina took the toast from the toaster and buttered it, grabbed a bowl of cereal, and sat down.

“So how was the game of Spades the other night?” she asked her mother.

“It was fine. Nora seemed to be holding up well.”

“I saw Mitzi yesterday out shopping. She looked bad. Her clothes were dirty. Almost looked like a bag lady.” Tina watched her mother carefully for a reaction.

Laura fiddled with the sugar bowl. “Mitzi has always been erratic,” she said tonelessly.

“Yeah. I wonder why.”

“For heaven’s sake, Tina, when a mother loses a daughter, especially one so young, she might be expected to go round the bend, mightn’t she?”

Tina stared at her mother. She felt Uncle Bob stiffen beside her.

“So, that’s the reason? She was fine before Sally died?”

Laura stood up so fast the chair rocked. “We are not going to gossip about Mitzi.” She climbed the stairs, hardly making a sound on the bare wood. Tina had always wondered how she could do that, and she wondered now because it was hard to wrap her mind around the fact that her mother could get so upset, after all these years, about Sally’s death.