Stiff Penalty (A Mattie Winston Mystery) (11 page)

Unfortunately, I had forgotten to put my top back on, so all I was wearing from the waist up was my new bra. And just as unfortunate was the fact that my mind was so overwhelmed with emotion that it didn’t register the tinkle of the bell, or the sound of Brahms’ Lullaby playing. Priscilla was no longer alone. As I stood staring at her and the male sales rep who had just entered the store, they stared back, all of us speechless. That’s when one of my bra’s little trapdoors—its hook apparently loosened by all my twisting and turning—decided to fall open.

I had just created a whole new nipple incident.

I
quickly slapped a hand over my exposed breast, muttered some half-assed apology, and slunk my way back into the dressing room. I fixed the bra and put on my own clothes. Then I sat down on the built-in seat and waited. I wasn’t coming out of that dressing room until the salesman left, even if it meant I had to live in there for a few days.

After what seemed like an eternity, and after I’d dug through my purse looking for anything I might be able to use to pee in, I heard Brahms start to play again. Moments later Priscilla hollered, “You can come out now.”

Miss Priss was wearing an amused smirk on her face, but it didn’t look malicious. “That’s another thing you’ll have to get used to,” she said. “Embarrassing moments are a dime a dozen both during pregnancy and once you have the kids.”

“I’m scared to do this with one kid,” I told her. “How on earth do you manage things with six?”

Priscilla shrugged. “Sometimes I think kids are like dogs: it’s easier when you have more than one, though I have to admit that Billy and I might have exceeded the number where the advantages outweigh the disadvantages. And then there’s the expense. It seems we can never get ahead on our budget. Just when we think things are starting to look better, one of the kids needs new clothes, or some medicine, or the car dies. I keep thinking I should close down the store, or hire someone to manage it so I can stay home with the kids, but we need the extra money the store brings in, and hiring a manager will eat all my profits.”

“Aren’t you supposed to make me feel better about this?” I said, picturing tired, bedraggled-looking Mrs. Fitzpatrick in my mind.

Priscilla shrugged and smiled. “Parenting is the most rewarding job you’ll ever do, but don’t be mistaken; the demands are never-ending, not just on your money but also on your time and your sanity. It was easier when the kids were all little because I could just bring them here for the day and let them play in the store. But now that they’re all in school, they want to participate in sports and after-school activities. Every one of those requires some type of financial investment. And then there’s the mechanics of just getting them all to where they need to be. My eldest just got his driver’s license, so that helps a little because he can help with some of the logistics . . . not that he wants to,” she added with a roll of her eyes. “But we had to buy another car so he could drive the kids around. Between trying to run this place and getting to all the parent teacher conferences, the PTA meetings, the class trips I get cajoled into chaperoning—it never ends. If it wasn’t for friends and family, Billy and I would have lost our minds years ago.”

“Any regrets?”

She shook her head and smiled. “Not a one. Every one of my kids is special in their own unique way, and I can’t imagine my life without any of them.” She nodded toward my tummy. “You felt it, didn’t you? That first quickening changes the way you feel about everything.”

I nodded and smiled. “A definite emotional high,” I said. I handed over the stack of clothes I was holding and added, “Now ring me up and bring me back down to reality.”

 

 

While Priscilla bagged my purchases, I went outside and pulled my hearse into the alley that ran behind the store. I didn’t want anyone who might be driving by to see me exiting The Mother Hood with what was clearly a new wardrobe. Yes, the news would travel fast, and I had my doubts about Priscilla’s ability to wait until Tuesday to start spreading it, as I’d asked, but I figured it was better to do all I could to prevent any speculation. Even if Priscilla could hold out until Tuesday, it would only be if no one asked her anything. If someone saw me leave her store and called her to ask why I was there, I knew she wouldn’t be able to stay mum about me becoming a mum. Loading my purchases behind the store was my version of an antibiotic, an attempt to slow the spreading infection of gossip. Unfortunately, gossip behaves more like a virus, and my efforts were likely to be a waste of time, much as treating a virus with antibiotics is a waste of time.

Priscilla met me at the back door and helped me load everything into the back of the vehicle. “Are you going to keep this after you have the baby?” she asked, eyeing the hearse as I closed the tailgate. I could tell from her expression that she hoped my answer would be no, but I was about to disappoint her.

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I? It runs well, it has relatively low mileage, and there is plenty of room inside for both a kid and a dog. Plus I like the color.”

Priscilla looked a little horrified but said nothing more. After thanking me and telling me to come back anytime, she backed into her store—never taking her eyes off the car—and shut the door. A second later I heard her throw three different locks. By the time I got behind the wheel, I felt certain Miss Priss was on the phone already, spreading her news.

A
s I was about to pull out, my cell phone rang. I saw it was Izzy and thought someone else must have died, meaning we had another call. I was half right.

“Hey, Izzy, what’s up?”

“I need to cancel our dinner plans for tonight. Dom’s father had a heart attack and died, so we’re heading for Iowa.”

“Oh, no,” I said, hoping I sounded genuinely saddened by the news, because my feelings on the topic were mixed. While I could never be happy about anyone dying, particularly the relative of a close friend, my relief at getting out of dinner and The Talk with Izzy was huge. “Is Dom okay?”

“I think so, but you know how things were with his dad. Their relationship was complicated.”

That was an understatement. The only person in Dom’s family who was at all understanding or supportive of his lifestyle was his mother. His father and brothers didn’t approve, and they made it known any time Dom and Izzy visited. The situation was made even more difficult because Dom’s father had been an alcoholic who often got mean when he drank.

“Give Dom a hug for me,” I said.

“I will. I’ve made arrangements for Gary Henderson to cover for me while I’m gone. He’s a part-time assistant medical examiner in Madison, and he’ll stay at the Sorenson Motel while he’s covering. I briefed him on my findings in Derrick Ames’s autopsy and the status of the investigation, so he should be up to speed. Will you call Bob Richmond and let him know what’s going on?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks. I’ll check in with you once we get to Iowa and let you know what our plans are. I’m not sure when the funeral will be, but I expect we’ll probably be there for the week.”

“Don’t worry about it. Take as long as you need. I’ll stay on top of things here and make sure Henderson stays informed with our progress in the investigation.”

“Thanks, Mattie. And with regard to the other thing, we’ll talk when I get back. In the meantime, good luck with Hurley.”

“Thanks.”

I disconnected the call and then placed one to Richmond. “Hey, Mattie, what’s up?”

I filled him in on Izzy’s news.

“That’s a bummer about Dom’s dad.”

“Yeah, it is. Do you know anything about this Dr. Henderson guy?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. I worked with him years ago when I was in Madison.”

“What’s he like?”

“He’s kind of big on adhering to the rules, and he can be a bit of a stickler for details, but otherwise he’s okay.”

“So is Izzy, so that shouldn’t be a problem for me. I’m used to it.” Despite my cavalier tone, I had concerns about working with someone new. It’s never easy adapting to someone else’s work style, and the only person I’ve worked this job with is Izzy. He and I fell into an easy rhythm early on, and we’ve grown comfortable with one another and with our work routines. And Izzy has been imminently patient with me as I’ve learned the ins and outs of my new career. Throwing someone new into the mix, someone who might be difficult to work with, was a complication I could have done without.

“I’m glad you called because I was going to call you in a little while anyway. I’ve got a schedule of sorts put together for tomorrow. Blake Sutherland called me back and agreed to come in and talk to me at nine. Wendy and her sons, along with their lawyer, will be coming in at ten. And at some point tomorrow I want to go to the school to talk with Derrick’s coworkers.”

“Is Blake Sutherland coming alone, or did she lawyer up?”

“As far as I know she’s coming alone because she thinks the only reason I need to talk to her is to verify information about Wendy. Plus I’m guessing she’s trying to keep her trip here as low profile as possible so her hubby doesn’t find out. I’m not sure she knows she’s on my suspect list, though to be honest, she isn’t very high on it.”

“Sounds like a busy day. Where and what time should we meet up?”

“Why don’t we meet at the police station around eight?”

“Can we do eight-thirty? Given that there will be someone new in our office, I feel like I should be there first thing to make sure the transition goes smoothly.”

“Eight-thirty is fine.”

“Great. I don’t think it will be a problem with Henderson if I work with you tomorrow, but if there is a death during the night, all bets are off.” I winced again at my metaphorical slip, even as I conjured up a mental image of gambling chips being scooped off a blackjack table. I could feel the rough texture of the felt-covered table, hear the sound of cards snapping down, smell the smoke-tinged, badly filtered air. I had a sudden overwhelming urge to head for the casino, and had I not been on call, I might have caved and gone.

“Let me know if something does come up.”

“Will do.”

Now that I was off the hook for The Talk later today, I decided to stop in and visit my sister, Desi, and deliver my news before she heard it from someone else. At some point I would have to either call or visit my mother for the same reason, but I wasn’t ready to face that yet.

I called Desi, and she answered on the first ring.

“Hey, sis, any chance you’ve got room for one more at your dinner table tonight?”

“For you, always,” she told me. “How soon can you be here? I’ve got baked macaroni and cheese and a meat loaf ready to come out of the oven in about fifteen minutes.”

I made it there in five.

Even though I hadn’t been to my sister’s house or seen any of the family for a little over a month, when I arrived I went in without knocking. Desi’s kids, Erika and Ethan, were in the living room watching the last few minutes of the movie
Independence Day
on TV with their father, Lucien. All three acknowledged my arrival, Erika and Ethan with, “Hi, Aunt Mattie,” and Lucien with his standard, “Hey, Mattiekins.”

I responded with a generic, “Hi, guys,” and then followed the enticing aromas to the kitchen.

“Hey, you,” Desi said with a smile. She set the microwave to nuke two bags of corn and then came over and gave me a big hug. When she released me, she stood back, cocked her head to one side, and stared at my chest. “Your boobs are bigger,” she said, finally looking at my face.

I smiled. “Yes, they are.”

Desi clapped a hand over her mouth, and her eyes grew huge. After a few seconds she said, “Oh my God. Are you pregnant?”

“Wow, you sure know how to steal someone’s thunder.” I watched the emotions play over Desi’s face: excitement, curiosity, worry. Her hand dropped away from her mouth, and she stammered for a few seconds. Then she lunged at me and hugged me again. When she stepped back she finally managed to get one word out.

“Hurley?”

I nodded. “He doesn’t know yet. I’ve been talking to him on the phone regularly since he left town, but I want to give him the news in person, so I can see how he reacts. He’s supposed to be back tomorrow, and I’m going to tell him then.”

“Are you worried?”

“A little,” I admitted. “This business with Emily and Kate really shook him up. He must have said a dozen times how he never wanted to be a father, and how if he’d wanted kids he would have had them, yadda yadda yadda.”

“But that was different,” Desi said. “Finding out so many years after the fact that you have a kid has to be a bit unsettling.”

“True, but I don’t think doubling his trouble is going to help any.”

“I’m betting he’ll be delighted. In fact, I can already hear the wedding bells,” Desi said, ignoring my doubts.

“Oh, no, I’m not going to marry him.”

“What?” Desi reared back as if she’d been slapped. “Why not?”

“I couldn’t in good conscience. I’d always feel like I trapped him into it, and I’d spend my life wondering if he would have wanted to marry me anyway if not for the kid.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Desi said, turning away in response to the timer on the oven going off. “Even with the little time I’ve spent with Hurley, it’s obvious the guy is nuts about you. Heck, when Emily went to the waterpark with us, she even said so.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“But he told me he felt blindsided when he found out about Emily.”

“Different circumstances,” Desi said, donning hot mitts and opening the oven door. “Besides, Kate did you a favor by prepping him ahead of time for the whole fatherhood thing. I’m telling you, he’ll be fine with it.” She took the bubbling-hot dish of macaroni and cheese out of the oven and placed it on top of the stove. Then she went back for the meat loaf. “Have you told Mom yet?”

“No, and I’m not looking forward to the task. I still remember the histrionics she went through when you told her you were pregnant with Erika.” I clapped a hand over my heart and mimicked my mother. “Oh, no,” I said in classic, melodramatic Sarah Bernhardt style. “Surely my end is in sight. Being a grandmother is like having one foot in the grave. I can feel my arteries hardening and my bones creaking as we stand here.”

Desi and I both laughed, and then she added, “Then there was that whole ‘I hope you don’t expect me to babysit’ speech, followed by the list of childhood illnesses she might be exposed to.” Desi closed the oven door with her foot and carried the meat loaf into the dining room. Then she came back and grabbed the macaroni and cheese. “It’s a wonder you and I are normal at all,” she said, setting the casserole dish on the dining room table.

The microwave dinged, so I made myself useful by taking the packages of corn out, dumping them in a bowl, and tossing a large pat of butter on top of it all. “I don’t know,” I said. “I think calling myself normal might be a stretch at times.”

“There are days when I feel that way, too,” Desi said with a smile. Then the smile faltered. “I mean I feel that way about me, not you,” she clarified.

“I knew what you meant.”

“Can we share your news with Lucien and the kids?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Might as well. I don’t want it to get out before I have a chance to tell Hurley, but unfortunately I went shopping at The Mother Hood today, and I’m betting Miss Priss will be spreading the word in no time. I just have to hope Hurley hears it from me first rather than someone else.”

Desi grabbed me and gave me a big hug. “I’m so excited for you, Mattie!”

Her enthusiasm was contagious, and by the time we headed in to the dining room to call everyone to dinner, I had a huge grin on my face that I couldn’t seem to contain. Even if we hadn’t agreed to share my news, Lucien and the kids would have known something was up just from my demeanor.

I had thought we might wait until the end of the meal to make the announcement, but Desi was busting at the seams and couldn’t wait. The news was met with general delight by all, especially Erika, who was eager to know if I’d let her babysit. Throughout the meal our conversation revolved around the baby: did I know the gender yet, was I going to find out, had I thought about names? Oddly, no one asked who the father was, and the subject of marriage didn’t come up. I wasn’t sure if that was because the answers were assumed, or because everyone felt awkward about asking. A few months ago, I would have assumed the former because there were no limits on the topics Lucien might bring up or ask about. Back then he never seemed to have any regard for politeness, political correctness, or even simple respect for someone else’s feelings. He couldn’t speak to me without coming out with a crass comment or some dicey bit of sexual innuendo. Nowadays, his behavior bordered on normal. Even his appearance had improved. Whereas he used to dress in wrinkled, worn, and stained clothing, and typically slicked his hair back with enough grease to lube the hearse several times over, he was now dressed in a clean shirt and khakis, and his hair looked clean and grease-free.

This new Lucien both heartened and saddened me. He was a changed man, a black-and-white version of his once much more colorful self. I knew these changes were for Desi’s benefit, and so far it seemed to be working. Yet as much as I hated to admit it, I kind of missed that old Lucien. There had been something oddly endearing about him, crass and crude as he was. And that old personality was a big part of his success as a lawyer. I wondered if the new Lucien would still be as clever, crafty, and persistent.

Though the subject of fatherhood didn’t come up, things still got plenty awkward. Ethan, looking all innocent and curious, stayed quiet through much of the discussion. Then, when there was a brief lull in the conversations, he said, “So you have a baby in your tummy?”

“Yes, I do,” I said smiling.

“How did it get in there?”

“Um . . .” I looked to Desi for help while Erika sniggered.

Then Lucien said, “I’ll explain it to you after supper.”

At that, Desi and I stared at one another with matching expressions of horror. Lucien had done the facts of life talk with Erika, and while none of us witnessed the actual talk, we know he used a store-bought turkey to help demonstrate. Come prep time for Thanksgiving dinner, Erika wanted to know how we got the little package inside the turkey to come out when the long, squirty thing hadn’t even been used yet.

Desi saved Ethan from a similar fate when she said, “That’s okay, Lucien. I got this one.”

I ate until I felt I was about to burst. Sated and happy, I wanted to stay and hang out for a while, but I knew Hoover needed to be let out soon. As I prepared to leave, Lucien took me aside.

“I am very excited for you, Mattiekins,” he said. “You deserve some happiness.”

“Thanks, Lucien.”

“Don’t let this Hurley guy get away. He seems like a good one. I never did like David.”

Now he tells me
. “Thanks, Lucien. And if there’s anything I can do for you, just let me know.”

He grabbed my hand and stuffed something into it. When I looked, I saw it was a check for two thousand dollars. “I know it’s not much,” Lucien said. “But I intend to pay back every cent you gave me. You don’t know how much it meant to both me and Desi that you were willing to help us out.”