A Forgotten Murder

by Jude Deveraux

  “Revenge on people who hurt your club members,” Jack said.

  Meena smiled. “They told you about that, did they? Nasty little ants bit me mercilessly, but I felt it was a price I had to pay to get in.” Her eyes lit up. “And it worked. For a while, I was part of them. It was glorious!”

  “How long before you stopped crying?” Kate asked.

  “I don’t know. Six months? A year? I stayed in a little family-owned country hotel. They fed me, I watched old TV shows, I walked a bit but not much. I got even fatter than I was. I had crying bursts. I just didn’t know what to do. I had been surrounded by so much talent that by comparison, I was a dead fish.”

  “So what happened?” Jack leaned back against the couch.

  “My mother died and I had to go home. I had sent contact information to my family. Maybe I was hoping... I don’t know, that one of them would turn up and say, ‘We love you. Come home.’”

  “Only happens in my books,” Sara said.

  Meena smiled. “You’re right. No one contacted me until my father sent an overnight letter telling me about my mother. I was to return immediately. It was a command, not a request. I packed up, bought a small car and drove home.”

  She paused. “My family home. I hadn’t seen it in a long time. It’s bigger than Oxley Manor, and thanks to my father’s money, it was in good repair. It was beautiful, but to me, it had always been a prison. A place of torture.” She took a breath. “When I got there, I drove around the back, hoping no one would see me.”

  “I bet your little sister was watching for you,” Sara said.

  “Oh yes. She most certainly was.”

  Eleven

  SUMMER 1995

  Willa saw no one as she went up the back stairs to the bedroom she’d had as a child. It had been completely redone so she hardly recognized it. Her family had none of that useless sentimentality of keeping the room the way it had been when their daughter lived there. But then, Willa had no medals or trophies to display. She’d never hung posters of rock stars on her walls.

  The only picture she’d hung up was one of Alice in Wonderland with a big pistol in her hand, her foot on a dead rabbit. Her mother had told her to take it down, saying it was “disgusting.”

  Willa had tried to defend herself. “They hang up pictures of naked singers. Why isn’t that ‘disgusting’?”

  “Because we are normal,” her brother Niall said. “You’re not.”

  When Willa got back to her room, the photo was gone. She never hung up anything else.

  She put on a black knit top and matching trousers that Nadine had chosen for her. They had been loose but now fit tightly, showing all her lumps and rolls.

  For a moment, Willa sat on the edge of the bed. It had been months since she’d seen Nicky and the others, and she wondered if they missed her. Did they ever think about her?

  She looked at her watch. It was a few minutes until four. She’d timed her arrival for afternoon tea.

  Standing, she smoothed her top, tried to suck in her belly, and went down the stairs. She heard voices from the Yellow Drawing Room, and she knew they were in there. She stopped just outside the room.

  “Do you think she’s going to come down or will she hide like she usually does?” Niall asked.

  “She’ll be here,” Beatrice said. “But now she no longer has that vile little entourage around her. I fear that she was kicked out because she ran through the money. They—”

  “Speaking of which,” Nelson said, “does anyone know about Mother’s will? Surely she left us something.”

  “She had nothing that was hers,” Niall said. “It’s all in Father’s name.”

  “Here’s to our very healthy father,” Nelson said in sarcasm.

  Willa leaned against the wall. For all that she’d spent on feeding her friends, she hadn’t really dented her trust fund. She wasn’t into fancy cars as her brothers were. Didn’t own an apartment in London as each of them did. She didn’t buy multi-thousand-pound gowns as Beatrice did.

  “Do you think she has anything left?” Niall asked.

  Willa drew in her breath. She knew he was talking about her.

  “I doubt it,” Beatrice said. “When I was there at that decaying Oxley Manor, her motto seemed to be ‘If you pretend to love me, I’ll give you money.’”

  “Then she is surely broke,” Niall said and they all laughed.

  Willa didn’t want to hear any more. She ran through the house toward the side door. She wanted to get as far from them as possible.

  But she didn’t make it. Coming inside was a little boy, about seven, and his pretty, young nanny. Willa had almost forgotten that Nelson had married and produced a son.

  The boy ran to a big ceramic bowl set on a marble-topped table and started to pull it off.

  “Martin!” the nanny said. “You can’t play with that. It’s eighteenth century.”

  “My mother says you are nothing and nobody. I don’t have to obey you.”

  The look on the young woman’s face was half rage, half depression.

  For a second, her eyes locked with Willa’s, and they shared identical emotions.

  When the big bowl teetered on the table, the two women leaped to save it.

  Angry, the boy stamped his foot and ran out of the room.

  Willa and the nanny put the bowl back into place. “I better go get him,” the nanny said.

  “Maybe he’ll go to the library,” Willa said. “Some of the tall shelves aren’t bolted to the wall. They could come crashing down.”

  The nanny’s eyes widened in shock, then she smiled as she backed toward the door. “I’m Katrina.”

  “I’m Willa the Unwanted.”

  The nanny caught her breath for a moment, then laughed. “If they don’t want you, then you must be doing something right.”

  There was a crash in the distance and the nanny went running.

  The encounter cheered Willa up somewhat. Her siblings usually surrounded themselves with sycophants who were afraid of them. Katrina was certainly different!

  Willa slipped around the house so she wouldn’t be seen. Like Puck, she thought, and tears gathered in her eyes. Would she ever see Puck again? See any of them again? When Sean and Diana returned, would anyone tell her?

  But it had been months, and no one had contacted her about anything. It did cross her mind that since she’d not told them where she was, it would have hindered them. But they could have asked her family. They could have...

  In the next second she remembered Nicky’s words, and the tears gathered again.

  She sat down under a big oak tree that she’d always liked, drew her knees up and put her head down. It’s time, she told herself. Time to stop wallowing in misery and do something with her life. She was young; she had money. She...

  When Willa heard a noise, she looked up. Katrina was coming toward her. Under her arms were two rolled-up rubber mats.

  She didn’t look at Willa, just unrolled the mats on a flat, grassy area. She stood on one, then looked at Willa as though to tell her to take the other one.

  “I don’t—I mean, I can’t—” Willa began.

  The woman wasn’t a nanny for no reason. She gave Willa a look that almost made her say, “Yes, miss.”

  Willa took her place on the other mat.

  Katrina put her legs in a wide stance and raised her arms. “We will salute the sun.”

  For the next hour, Willa tried her best to follow. It wasn’t easy. She wasn’t used to her newly acquired weight and she had trouble balancing. And the stretching just plain hurt.

  But the good part was that for one whole hour she didn’t think of her misery. Didn’t think how she would soon have to face her siblings and father.

  Katrina rang a little bell and they were done. She handed Willa a refillable bottle of water.
Katrina took another one and for a minute they sat in silence on the mats.

  “I despise your family,” Katrina said.

  “Me too.”

  “They say such terrible things about you that I thought you must be a good human being.”

  “I am,” Willa said, and that made her feel better. “So why are you working for them?”

  Katrina took a moment to consider before she answered. “I was a yoga instructor. I had my own studio and held classes. I fell madly in love with one of my students and we married. I got pregnant instantly.”

  She took a breath and Willa saw her blink back tears. “Six months later, his heart exploded. He was fine one minute and the next he was dead. The shock made me miscarry.”

  “Oh,” was all Willa could say.

  “I sold my studio. I couldn’t bear people’s pity. I wanted something new and I heard of this job and...” She shrugged. “Your brother thinks sex with me is part of what he’s paying for. I’m handing in my notice right after the funeral. Maybe you’ll give me a ride.”

  “To where?”

  “Italy? Greece? Wherever.”

  Willa gave her first smile in a long time. “Me too. I plan to go down the rabbit hole.”

  “Pistol in hand?”

  Willa actually laughed. “How do you possibly know about that?”

  “It’s a legendary Willa story. One of many that they have. They...” She stopped.

  “It’s okay. I know what they say.”

  “If you actually did, you might take a shotgun to them.” She stood up. “My break is over. Dear little Martin has probably broken a dozen valuable artifacts and I will be blamed for them all.” She started rolling up her mat, then halted. “They’re planning to do anything they can to get you to give them money. If they’re nice to you, that’s why. Nelson even bought you a gift.” She finished rolling the mat. “Just so you know, the diamonds aren’t real.”

  Willa rolled up her mat, put the straps around it and handed it to Katrina. “Thank you for this. It was good to get my mind off my own life for a while. And I’m sorry about your husband and...” She couldn’t finish.

  “Me too. I better go.” Mats under her arms, she backed away. “Prepare to be wooed and courted.”

  “My checkbook and I will be eagerly awaiting them.”

  Laughing, Katrina ran toward the house.

  Willa turned to go back to sitting under the tree, but she no longer felt like it. So her siblings were broke. And poor, pitiful, butt-of-all-their-jokes Willa was the only one who had anything left. How interesting.

  She started back toward the house but instead turned away. When she was a child she’d played the solitary game of What if I Owned this Place? She used to keep sketchbooks full of garden plans and she filled binders with decorating ideas. Wonder if they’re still here? she thought.

  When she had just enough time to get ready for dinner, she returned to the house. She had a black dress, but it was now too small. Instead, she wore black cotton trousers and a red sweatshirt with rhinestones across the top. Byon said it was the ugliest shirt he’d ever seen. “I love it! You should wear it to church and tell me what everyone says.”

  She didn’t wear it to church or to anywhere else, but she did keep it. Byon had said he loved it and that was enough for her.

  If what Katrina had said about the siblings was true, she’d know as soon as she saw them. When she walked into the dining room, saw their eyes widen in horror, but they said nothing, she knew Katrina was right. She smiled warmly at them. Their father didn’t join them. He had dinner in his room.

  “He’s too distraught over Mother’s death to talk to anyone,” Niall said.

  He’d better hire a food taster, Willa thought, but said, “I can understand that. They loved each other so very much.”

  Beatrice nearly choked on her drink. Their parents rarely spoke to each other.

  At dinner, Willa was the center of attention. They asked about her life, her friends.

  Thanks to Katrina’s warning, Willa knew how to answer them. She said she was very happy and planning to buy a country estate. In Surrey maybe. Or Kent. “Maybe I should go to Devon.”

  Throughout the dinner, she smiled at their offers of financial advice, at the use of their London apartments.

  After dinner, Nelson slipped her a bracelet. Niall gave her tasteful little earrings in a Tiffany box. She’d put money on it that they didn’t come from that store.

  She almost made it upstairs before Beatrice caught her. “I know we’ve had our differences in the past, but we’re sisters and we love each other.” She held out an old ring box. “Our dear mother gave this to me but I want you to have it.”

  Willa took the box but she didn’t open it until she was in her room. The ring inside took her breath away. Memories flooded her. She and her mother were in the garden, Willa holding the basket while her mother deadheaded roses.

  “Can’t you hold it still?” her mother snapped, then jerked her hand back as a thorn pricked her. “See what you made me do? Now look, my ring is dirty.” She took it off and handed it to her daughter.

  Willa held it up to the light. Sapphires and diamonds. “It’s so beautiful.”

  “I guess. It’s owned by your father’s family and goes to the oldest daughter. He has no sisters so I got it.”

  “Oldest?” Willa said. “That’s me. Do I get it?”

  “Are you hoping I will die so you can get a ring?”

  “No, I meant—”

  “Go away. Put it in my jewelry box, and I better never see you touch it.”

  Beatrice had been given that ring. The one that was supposed to go to the oldest daughter. But her mother had given it to the younger one.

  Willa stretched out on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. She bloody well was not going to give her siblings any money. She’d lied about buying some money-eating estate somewhere. And then what? Live there alone?

  What am I going to do? she wondered. Go to Italy with Katrina? Hey! Maybe she’d buy a yoga studio and she and Katrina would run it.

  Smiling at that absurdity, she opened her computer. Actually, the idea of owning a business, a shop maybe, in some village appealed to her. It would be right on the high street. She’d meet people. Go to church on Sundays. Join the WI and learn to make jam. Maybe she’d sell the jam in her shop.

  No, she thought. She needed to get a business that didn’t make a person fat.

  She wandered about the internet, then suddenly halted. There was a wellness center for sale in what looked like a really cute village. Actually, it was a nice-sized town. The center had yoga classes!

  When the sun came up, Willa was still reading and making notes.

  Twelve

  “And you did it?” Sara asked. “It worked out like you thought it would? No, wait. Tell it in order.”

  Meena looked up. “Have you ever seen traits in a blood relative that you hate but later find out that you have?”

  “You mean like heart disease?” Sara asked. “Only without the heart.”

  Meena laughed. “Just like that. My siblings will do anything to get what they want. It turns out that I have some of the same traits. I did something awful.”

  “Please tell us,” Sara said. “Please.”

  Meena laughed at her tone. “I started by lying to them. Hours after my mother’s funeral, I saw that they were going to incessantly hound me for money. I had to stop it! I faked an email from my bank that said my account was overdrawn. I told them I had no money and asked if they’d help me.”

  “Bet they stopped being nice,” Kate said.

  “They certainly did! Beatrice asked for the ring back but I told her I’d sent it to the lawyer to settle some accounts. Invitations to stay in their London apartments were withdrawn.”

  “You learned lying quickly,�
� Jack said.

  “I’d had some good teachers. Family and friends. The next day, Katrina quit her job with my brother, and she and I drove away together.” Meena’s eyes twinkled. “My brothers said they’d always known I was a lesbian.”

  “And you started your business.” Sara sounded proud of her.

  “I did, but not as I’d imagined it,” Meena said. “My fantasy was to be in a partnership, to be an equal with anyone who worked for me.”

  “Someone has to be the boss,” Jack said.

  “Yes, they do,” Meena said. “I realized that in an instant. When I walked into the Wellness Center, I instantly hated it. I could see why it failed. It was for people wearing Prada, not clients who were overweight and ate pork pies by the dozen. There are moments in your life when everything changes, and that was one of them. I turned to Katrina to ask what she thought. But I closed my mouth. I realized that if I started consulting, it would never end. I’d have to ask her approval on everything.”

  “As you did with Nicky and Byon,” Kate said.

  “And Nadine and Clive. I didn’t know I was fed up with it, but I was. I said, ‘We’re going to gut this place.’ Katrina said, ‘There’s a lot we can use. Those sofas are—’ I said, ‘No. It all goes. I have a different idea for my studio.’ Katrina hesitated, then said, ‘You’re the boss, Willa.’”

  “And that set the tone forever,” Sara said.

  “Yes.” Meena smiled. “And that’s the moment I changed my name. No more Willing Willa or a willow that bends with every breeze.”

  Kate motioned to the room. “It looks like you succeeded. Your business is called Renewal?”

  Meena smiled broadly. “If you were English, you’d know that there are Renewal studios all over the country. We offer every imaginable health service. All my trainers go through rigorous schooling. We—Sorry. You don’t need to hear the sales pitch.” She looked down at the tea table. “Our headquarters are in my family home. I bought it.”

  “You must tell us how that happened!” Sara said. “Did you put ants in their beds?”

  “Did you see them again?” Kate asked.

  “I didn’t see or hear from them for eight whole years, not until I went back for my father’s funeral.”