The Cruel Ever After (24 page)

“Come,” she said, dragging Jane by the scruff of her sweatshirt into the living room and dropping her down on the couch. “Now,” she said, pacing back and forth in front of the cold fireplace, “we have to talk.”

Mouse hunkered down a few feet away to watch.

“How Chester could have failed me so I will never understand.”

“Failed
you
?”

“I’m afraid I come with more bad news.” She all but fell onto the couch. “Mel phoned a few minutes ago. Seems the cops finally arrested Chester—officially—and charged him with Dial’s murder. Mel said the reports coming across the wire were reporting that you were once married to him. She thinks the story is about to break in a big way.”

“Define ‘in a big way.’ ”

“It will make the nightly news, the newspapers, and you might even see a few reporters camped on your doorstep.”

Jane put her head in her hands and groaned.

“It’s just the kind of juicy personal story people love.
Prominent Lesbian Once Married to Murder Suspect. Details at Ten
. But now, see, it’s going to be,
Prominent Lesbian Adoring Wife of Murder Suspect
.
Lesbian Daughter of Onetime Candidate for Governor, Raymond Lawless, Murder Suspect’s Better Half
.”

“You can stop. I get the picture.”

“Mel thinks the police leaked the marriage stuff.”

“Why?”

“To put pressure on you to cooperate.”

“But I have cooperated. More or less.”

“They must think you have information you’re keeping quiet about.”

Everyone, it seemed, had come to the same conclusion.

“This next bit may seem like a parasitic request from a member of the fourth estate, but it’s not. It’s an offer to help. Mel thinks you should get the truth out there before everybody starts to play fast and loose with the facts. She wants to do an interview with you, to be published in the
Daily TwinCitian
in the next couple of days.”

The doorbell rang.

“That must be Sigrid,” said Jane, getting up, more eager than ever to get to those old-fashioneds. “Don’t say anything about this to her, okay?”

“My luscious lips are zipped, but let’s get rid of her fast.”

Jane held up a finger for quiet as she hit the
OFF
button on the security pad and drew back the door. She didn’t always engage the security system these days, but since Chess left, she’d had it on constantly.

“Hey, there,” said Sigrid, grinning, standing with her hands on the shoulders of her daughter.

“Mia,” said Jane, “I didn’t know you were coming.”

Mia kept her eyes on the ground, twisting her mouth from one side to the other, looking thoroughly disgruntled.

“Julia canceled her meeting with Peter, so he dropped Mia and me off while he takes care of some business in Uptown. We’ve got about an hour.”

“Why’d she cancel the meeting?”

“Not feeling well, I guess.”

“Is something wrong with—” Jane nodded to Mia.

“She’s monumentally pissed at Peter and me.” Sigrid shuffled into the foyer behind her daughter.

Mouse trotted into the room, dropped a bone at Mia’s feet, and licked her hand until she petted him. Still Mia didn’t smile or look up.

“We found a therapist who can sign,” continued Sigrid, checking out Cordelia’s getup as she entered from the living room. “I assume the Forty Thieves will be along any minute.”

Cordelia gave her a wan smile.

“Anyway, Mia had her second meeting with the therapist this afternoon.”

“Not going well, I take it,” said Jane, bending down to run her hand gently along Mia’s arm. “Hi,” she said. “I’m glad you could come. I have an art book for you. I’ll give it to you before you go.”

Mia nodded, then looked over at Cordelia.

“Wanna play with that chalk in the drive again?” asked Cordelia, signing to Mia as she spoke.

Mia gave a halfhearted shrug.

“Would you rather watch TV?” asked Jane.

Again the girl shrugged. At the moment, shrugs seemed to be her only form of communication.

“Come on,” signed Cordelia. “I might even be able to scare us up a black cherry soda if that ogre of a mother of yours doesn’t object.”

That drew a slight smile.

Sigrid drifted around the kitchen as Jane loaded the cocktail shaker with fruit.

“I didn’t expect Cordelia to be here,” said Sigrid.

“She stopped by a few minutes ago. If you don’t want to talk in front of her—”

“She’s family. Besides, she’ll pry it out of you, one way or the other. To be honest, there’s not much to tell. Peter and I finally worked out our differences. For now, divorce is off the table.”

Jane had just finished crushing the fruit in the bottom of the shaker when Cordelia breezed in through the back door.

“Got her all set up with a nice can of pop and the chalk. That Mia is one pissed-off puppy.”

“Tell me about it,” said Sigrid.

Jane added a generous portion of the rye, a touch of maraschino cherry juice, bitters, and ice and shook it all up together, straining the liquid into three tumblers. She dropped a rock candy swizzle stick in each glass and passed them out.

Mouse, a bone gripped in his teeth, curled up on the rug by the back door. For him, at least, all was well with the world.

“So, you and Peter are back together, riding the happily-ever-after train?” asked Cordelia, sitting down at the kitchen table, pushing out the other chairs with her foot, inviting everyone to join her.

“Pretty much,” said Sigrid.

“But at the birthday party,” said Jane, “when I asked you if everything was okay, you said ‘yes and no.’ ”

“Oh, I was just angry at him that night. He was being a butt-head.”

“What about school?” said Jane. “You wanted to go back and get another master’s, and then go on for a doctorate.”

“That documentary Peter did of your father’s campaign got some real buzz going for him. The finished film will be making the rounds of independent festivals this summer and next fall. He’s already had a couple of good offers to work on other documentaries. It may mean that he’s out of town more than he’d like, but we’ll work it out. I’ll go to school part-time. Mia’s our number one focus at the moment.”

Jane had a sense that there was more to the story, but whether it was because Sigrid didn’t feel comfortable talking about the details of her marriage in front of Cordelia, or she simply didn’t want to get into it, Jane had no way of knowing. “I’ve never understood how love can die,” she said, sipping her drink. “I know it does. It’s happened to me. I still don’t understand it. I get even less how you could ever restore love once it’s gone.”

“Maybe you can’t if it’s really gone for good,” said Sigrid, “but if the spark is still there—”

“I thought you and Peter were finished. That’s what you told me. You wanted different things. He wanted kids, a white picket fence, and a conventional life.”

“He’s got Mia now, which has gone a long way toward filling his need for a child. And he’s changed,” she said, sucking on her swizzle stick. “After that mess last fall, he’s a different man. I can’t explain it, except to say that he’s willing to take risks now, willing to rock the boat. I can’t say we’ll be together forever, but for now, our life together is good. More than good.”

“It happened for Mel and me,” said Cordelia. “We were apart for years before we got back together.”

Jane turned her drink around in her hand. “It’s still a mystery to me.”

“That’s exactly what love is,” said Cordelia. “Read the philosophers, the romantic poets. Read the biography of my life, once it’s written.”

“The world is definitely waiting for
that
book,” said Sigrid, stifling a yawn.

They talked—and argued—companionably through the first round of drinks and then a second.

“I guess I’d better go get Mia,” said Sigrid, tipping the glass back and finishing the last few drops. “Peter should be back any minute. We’re having dinner tonight with a documentary director, a woman Peter is hoping to work with. She’s in town on business, lives in New York.”

Jane and Cordelia remained at the table as Sigrid got up and left through the back door.

“Returning to the subject of the death of love,” said Cordelia, dipping her swizzle stick back into the drink. “You weren’t thinking about Julia, were you?”

“Yeah, I guess I was. Julia and Kenzie.”

“You can do better.”

“To be honest, I’m exhausted by the entire subject.”

“ ‘The course of true love never did run smooth;’ ” Willy Shakespeare wrote that.”

“A wise man.”

Sigrid burst back into the room. “I can’t find her.”

“Mia?” said Jane, getting up.

“She knows the rules. She’s not supposed to go anywhere unless she tells me.”

“We’ll help you find her,” said Jane.

Just as they got outside, Peter drove up. He parked his Mustang in front of the house and hopped out, a big grin on his face. “Thought I might be in time for one of those old-fashioneds.” When he saw Sigrid running toward him through the grass, his expression sobered. “What’s wrong?”

“Mia. We can’t find her.”

“She was drawing with chalk in the drive,” said Cordelia, nodding to the artwork.

“Here, too,” said Jane, seeing a half-finished hopscotch grid drawn in blue and pink chalk right next to the front steps.

“She was so angry at me,” said Sigrid, stepping out into the street and looking both ways.

“You think she took off?” said Peter.

“I think,” said Jane, “that we’re wasting time. We need to spread out.”

“You’ve all got your cell phones?” asked Cordelia. When everyone answered in the affirmative, she headed toward Sheridan and the lake.

“I’ll take the alley,” said Peter, dashing off.

Sigrid and Jane went in opposite directions down the street.

Jane didn’t like the look of that unfinished hopscotch court. Why would a kid start one and not finish it?

As she was passing in front of Sebastian Joe’s ice cream parlor a few minutes later, her phone trilled. Digging it out of her back pocket, she said hello.

“Janey, it’s Dad.”

Her heart sank. She’d been hoping it would be good news about Mia.

“Chess was charged with Dial’s murder a few hours ago. He’ll be arraigned first thing tomorrow morning. I just got out of the judge’s chambers. The bail’s going to be set at a million. Not unusual in a case like this. He mentioned that two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar check again, that he needs to cash it.”

“He sold an artifact to Julia. She told me last night that she was calling her bank this morning to cancel it. She’s not even sure what he sold her was real.”

“Oh, Lord. He won’t be happy when he hears that. Anyway, I just wanted to keep you in the loop. Oh, and I talked to a divorce lawyer last night, an old friend. She said that a judge most likely would not allow Chess access to your assets in order to make bail. You’re still legally married, but you haven’t been in contact with him in decades. In Minnesota, judges rule, in cases like this, on what is reasonable. If we were in, say, Arizona, a judge would more likely stick to the letter of the law and allow him access. That means, unless
you
allow him access, he can’t use your money to get out.”

“Why on earth would I want to help him get out of jail?”

“I don’t know. I do know he’s going to try hard to convince you he’s innocent. I don’t have a crystal ball, Janey, but given his record when it comes to telling the truth, you’d be crazy to trust him. I’ll represent him, for now, but in my opinion, you’re safer with him in jail rather than out.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“The bad news is, when it comes time for a divorce, Chess is entitled to half of your assets. He might not ask for it, but it’s his if he wants it.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Maybe we can make a deal with him. I’m one of the best criminal defense lawyers in the state, and he knows it. I’ll tell him that I’ll represent him
if
he agrees to keep his hands off your estate. We’ll get it in writing.”

If only it could be that easy.

“You’re being careful, right?” asked her dad.

She wasn’t sure if she should tell him about Mia. She made a quick decision to call him later, hopefully with good news. “You don’t need to worry.”

“Yes, I do, honey. When it comes to my kids, it’s my job.”

An hour later, Jane trudged up the sidewalk to her front door. Cordelia was already back, sitting on the steps, her turban askew, her robes drooping from the heat and humidity.

“Nothing?” asked Cordelia, fanning her face with a copy of the
Southwest Journal.

Jane sat down next to her. “Nothing. It’s so frustrating that she can’t hear if we call her name.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I just talked to Sigrid. She and Peter are going to stay at it a while longer. I told them we’d stick around the house in case Mia comes back. Apparently, Mia’s run away from them before. Twice. She came home on her own the first time. The second time, the cops found her in a park, hauled her back.”

“If she wants to get lost, it’s not hard.”

“What did Mia say to you while you were setting her up with the chalk?”

“Not a lot,” said Cordelia. “Just that she was really angry at her mom. She wished things could go back to the way they were last fall, with Peter living on one side of a double bungalow and Sigrid on the other. She said it wasn’t Peter’s idea for her to see a therapist, it was her mom’s. She doesn’t understand why she has to talk about things that are painful. She wants to live with Peter. She wishes her mom would move out.”

Jane looked up at the cloudless summer sky, wiping sweat off her forehead with the back of her arm. “I suppose she could’ve gone for a walk and gotten lost. She’s not familiar with this neighborhood.”

“I suppose.”

“Or—”

“What other options are there? She got lost or she took off.”

Jane was so frightened by one other possibility, she couldn’t even bring herself to say it out loud.

28

Irina glanced to her right, anxious to make sure Dusty was okay in his car seat. She hated that her mother’s car didn’t have a backseat, but she had to make do. She sped through the dark streets toward the River Bay Marina south of Hastings, where her mother’s houseboat was docked in a rented slip. Her little boy’s brown eyes were open, and he seemed to be alternately looking out the window at the lights whizzing past and playing with his toes. He’d sneezed once, just as she was getting him strapped into his seat, which concerned her. She wasn’t sure if the windows should be open or closed. She couldn’t bear to think he was breathing in bacteria, microorganisms, or viruses that could hurt him. She’d finally decided on keeping the windows closed, with the air-conditioning running. Mothers had a sixth sense about their own kids, and that’s what Irina had to trust.