“You don’t need to do either,” Whitney insisted. “She doesn’t know anything we haven’t already told you.”
Hallie had lost the ‘whatever’ expression but made no move to leave.
“I’d need to ask her what she was doing when the fire started,” McNamara said.
“Nothing, really. I—”
“No,” Whitney interrupted. “She isn’t going to answer you.”
“Okay,” McNamara said agreeably. “Can she tell me what was in the garage?”
Whitney still looked worried but shook her head.
“How about whether or not Sawyer Renne stopped by?”
“She doesn’t know.” Whitney turned back to her niece and ordered her upstairs.
“No!” Hallie shouted. “Don’t treat me like a child.”
“It’s okay,” McNamara stood up. To Whitney, he added, “Please have her available at two this afternoon. I’ll return with a court order.”
“No, please,” Whitney said as Melanie hurried into the room, followed by Banks.
“She’s right,” Melanie said. “No court orders. It could get into the press. Hallie will tell you what you want to know.”
Chapter Fourteen
WHITNEY
Whitney thought her sister only had two basic settings — contented and Category Five. Anything in between was only a wave she rode to Happy Land or Armageddon. The waves themselves were tricky because you never knew which way they were headed. When hurricane speed arrived, it was best to hunker down and let it blow. She and Hallie sat at the kitchen table and waited while Melanie spent her fury.
“You’re not to speak to the police without my permission. Disobey me again and there will be repercussions, young lady. You’re not an adult, and you don’t make the decisions around here.”
Finished for the moment with her daughter, Melanie rounded on Whitney. “And you! You’re unbelievable. We agreed, sitting right here last night. We had a game plan, and you blew it. What were you thinking?”
“I did the best I could under the circumstances.” Whitney stayed calm, at least on the outside. Matching Melanie decibel for decibel never worked. After a lifetime of experience, she still couldn’t believe so much anger could boil out of such a tiny person. Her sister needed to diffuse to a place where she could be reasonable.
“You know what happens when we don’t stick to the plan. Heath is counting on us to hold up our end.” The comment was addressed to both Whitney and Hallie, but Melanie was glaring at her daughter. “I’m in charge here until he gets back.”
Whitney used her napkin to mop up the chamomile tea that slopped out of Melanie’s mug. “Eat a bite, Mel,” she said and pushed a plate of cinnamon granola bars toward her sister. “Just a bite. You haven’t eaten anything.”
“I don’t have any appetite, and who could blame me?” Melanie sank into a chair and put her head in her hands. The Big Unwind, as Whitney thought of it, had begun.
Aunt and niece exchanged brief glances, then Hallie said, “Mom, it’s my fault, all of it. I should have left when Aunt Whitney first told me to. I didn’t think it through, and I’m really sorry.”
The last part of the apology was meant for Whitney, who gave a slight nod in acknowledgment. She’d been up half the night before with Hallie and knew how the events of the past few days had affected her. Today’s visit from the police was too much. The girl hadn’t gotten many traits from her mother, but as she entered adulthood, Whitney was beginning to see emotional highs and lows emerge. She prayed it was hormones regulating themselves, but it was another worry for her list.
“Thank you. You’re not entirely to blame.” Melanie gave her sister one more look, then turned her full attention to Hallie. “Now, I’ve decided that it’s time we treated you like an adult since we’re asking you to behave like one.”
Whitney wasn’t sure what was about to happen, she only knew it wasn’t something they’d discussed.
“Catch.”
Hallie didn’t move fast enough, and the keyring Melanie tossed to her landed on the floor.
“You’re almost seventeen and have a lot of responsibility. You should have a car, too.”
Hallie picked up the keys and inspected them. “But these are to the vans. Oh, you mean I get my own set of keys.”
Melanie broke off a bit of granola and put it on her napkin. “Check with me, first, though. Now, what do I get in return?”
After a few seconds of her mother’s withering glare, Hallie pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and threw it on the table.
Whitney relaxed a bit. Mel was just grandstanding, and Hallie knew how to play the game. This silly act was only a way for Mel to save face and assert her authority. Things would be back to normal soon.
Jealousy was an unavoidable part of the life they’d chosen, and they each had their coping mechanisms. She always tried to let Mel have these ‘first wife and mother’ scenes without interfering, but it was growing more difficult as the years passed.
The lecture over, Hallie gave her mother a half-hearted hug and made a temporary escape. Whitney moved to the far side of the kitchen, stabbed at Heath’s number on her phone, and listened to the ringtone roll over and over until the voice she wanted to hear told her to leave a message.
“I’m over it,” Melanie said, coming to stand next to Whitney. “I’m sorry about how all that sounded, but somebody had to make her see how dangerously she’s behaving. She could ruin everything.”
“We could lose her,” Whitney snapped, finally out of patience.
“We will not lose anything.”
Melanie’s voice cracked on the last word. The tears came next, and Whitney rocked her sister in her arms, just as she’d held Hallie the night before. Why did it have to be so hard? Pieces of her family were falling away too fast for Whitney to catch them.
“Still love me, NeeNee?”
Whitney groaned at Melanie’s use of the hated childhood nickname. Her sister pulled away and laughed as she wiped her face. They had reached the end of this particular storm.
“You’re lucky to have me, and don’t you forget it,” Whitney said, then began to unload the dishwasher.
“I never would,” Melanie agreed in a sing-song voice. “Before you unload that, can you make lunch for the kids? Nothing for me. I’ll go finish the laundry and get something later.”
Whitney knew Hallie would end up doing the laundry, and Melanie wouldn’t eat.
She heated kosher hotdogs and made a fruit salad, distracting herself with a quick version of her favorite daydream. In this one, Heath showed up, tossed Felicia to the wind, and they all went home to Atlanta. She’d been happy in the old, ramshackle house south of the city. In those years, everyone had their place, and Whitney’s role was mom, sister, head cook, and wife to an undemanding, charming, and funny man. Then Heath had come up with the idea of a television show, and everything changed.
She ignored a twinge of bitterness. She couldn’t start doubting him now, he was trusting her to hold things together until he could come home and take over. But the troublesome questions wouldn’t go away.
His visit had been a wonderful surprise. They’d taken the children to the beach in Delaware, then out to dinner for steamed crabs. Whitney had him all to herself for a long walk while Hallie put the little children to bed. It wasn’t until he and Melanie had gone upstairs, and the arguing started that Whitney realized Heath hadn’t brought any luggage. He left without telling her goodbye.
Eleven days later, she still had no more from Melanie than ‘wait until Heath comes back.’
It was there, at the kitchen counter, halfway through toasting hotdog buns, that Whitney quit making excuses for her sister and their husband. Heath and Mel were hiding something big, and for the first time in their joint marriage, they’d cut her out.
Chapter Fifteen
“Well, that was lame,” Banks said. “After all that ‘you can’t interview the children’ crap, they were only hidin
g Hallie’s cigarette habit. At least now we know how the fire started, and it wasn’t spontaneous combustion.”
McNamara didn’t respond, which made Banks wonder what the hell he’d missed this time.
Their first stop after leaving the Overtons was Three Pigs Deli. Banks declared he needed a double pork sandwich and Old Bay fries to erase the taste of the raspberry tea. They got lunch to go, drove to Memorial Park, and ate in the car. Even with the windows down and a breeze off the water, it was too warm in the car, but the view of the harbor was the perfect antidote to their chaotic morning. Also, they were less likely to be interrupted than if they tried to discuss the Overtons in the tiny police station with villagers and tourists wandering in. The time it took for an overheard word to grow into gossip was short in Mallard Bay. The Chief was already getting calls from concerned citizens who wanted news about the polygamists. Polyamorists.
“Why didn’t you tell Marbury she was using the wrong word?” Banks crumpled his sandwich wrapper with a satisfied burp.
“You could have corrected her if it bothered you,” McNamara said.
“Why? She makes fun of anything I say, anyway.”
“You sound like you’re twelve.”
Banks wanted to point out he’d gotten Melanie to talk while McNamara had gotten them thrown out of the house, but he wanted to keep the Chief talking. And he wanted to stay employed.
“Melanie made their life sound so simple,” he said, returning to his report of the kitchen conversation. “But I don’t know any women who’d go for it, do you?”
“You never know,” McNamara laughed. “Are you thinking about it?”
“Like I’d want more than one woman. I can’t afford Nik as it is. But back to the Overtons — everyone calls them bigamists, but they aren’t. They’re not really polyamorists or polygamists, either. I’m not sure what they are, but it seems to me they took the parts they liked from both groups and made up their own rules. Polygamy is the closest to what they do, but only the guy gets multiple partners. Melanie tried to explain it.” He glanced at his boss to make sure McNamara realized the significance of his accomplishment. “But what she described was actually polygyny, which is what most people mean when they talk about polygamy.”
“You’ve taken quite an interest.”
“Well, you have to get past the surface to understand what’s going on, don’t you? Polygyny is one man with multiple wives. Sororal polygyny is one man with multiple wives who are biological sisters, like Melanie and Whitney.”
McNamara set his turkey sandwich down and stared at Banks. “Let’s have the rest of it. What else have you learned?”
“That there are all kinds of multiple partner relationships. Bigamy and polygamy are just the two best known in this country. Bigamy is illegal, of course. Polygamy, where the partners don’t have more than one legal marriage between them, is a gray area. Same for polygyny and polyamory. And then there’s religious versus secular arrangements. The sisters mentioned Heath being a minister back in the day, but they don’t seem to affiliate with any particular religion.”
“Think their ideas will catch on once they’re on TV?”
“Why not? Look at the bleachers at your typical soccer game. There are parents, step-parents, half-siblings, significant others, in-laws, outlaws, you name it. Kids with two moms, no dads, and vice versa. The only difference with the Overtons is they all live together.”
“And sleep together?” McNamara asked.
“Not according to Melanie. Besides, how many divorced couples around here do you think hook up?”
“I’d have to ask Avril,” McNamara said.
Banks was so intent he ignored the joke. “Heath and the sisters apparently make it up as they go along, deciding what works for them and what doesn’t. Melanie isn’t that bad, really, when you get her to calm down. She was pretty funny a couple of times. She and Nik seem kind of alike to me. They can look happy, but it’s sorta desperate. More of a wanna be happy look.”
McNamara didn’t interrupt but stored the comment away.
“Melanie said she wants a happy childhood for her kids,” Banks went on after finishing the last fry. “She talks about how much better things are now than when it was only her and her husband, poor as dirt and turning out babies every year until she had a breakdown. Seven kids in nine years could do that, I guess.”
“What kind of breakdown?”
“No details. Claims she doesn’t remember much, except that Whitney and God saved her.”
“Not her husband?”
Banks thought for a moment, then said, “Whitney, God, and the kids. In that order, pretty much. Husband seemed to fall into the food and shelter category. A necessity.”
McNamara gathered up the paper wrappers. On the way to the station, he described Whitney refusing to let Hallie answer questions about Renne.
“What is it with that guy?” Banks asked. “Why are they protecting him?”
“Another way to look at it is to ask what he might be holding over them.” McNamara pulled into the lot behind the police station side of the municipal building and turned off the ignition. “Melanie threatened to sue the department if I talked to Renne and caused them to lose their contract for their TV show.”
Banks started to say that Sawyer was the nephew of the film company’s owner, and might have the influence he claimed to, but the Chief had moved on.
“There’s a lot we don’t know about these people, and it’s hard not to be sidetracked by their controversial lifestyle.”
Banks reluctantly agreed. “Melanie and Whitney may end up being two sisters with nine kids to raise all on their own. Think they can sell a show about that?”
“Doubt it.” But McNamara thought it could be an excellent reason for the women to develop a sideline income that didn’t depend on a husband.
Back in his office, he shot off an email to Desiree Marbury.
Chapter Sixteen
Grace’s morning was full of irritations and interruptions. She’d had a queasy stomach since last night, and her defenses were low. Naturally, Marjorie zeroed in on her like a mosquito.
“Didn’t you hear me ringing you?” the secretary demanded from the doorway of Grace’s office.
Grace bit back her first response and said, “I thought Lily picked up the call.”
“That would have been helpful, but she’s out, again, so, of course it all falls on me. I was trying to tell you a strange woman is asking to see you. I’m sure Mr. Mosley won’t approve of her.”
“Strange is in the eye of the beholder,” Grace said. “Do you mean we don’t know her?”
“I certainly don’t. She doesn’t have an appointment, either, so I told her you weren’t available. She’s very rude and won’t go away.”
“What’s her name?” Grace asked.
“That’s just it. I think she made it up. It’s one of those frou-frou first names, and the last name is, get this, Jones. And she’s wearing sunglasses indoors like some movie star. She’s most insistent that you’re her family’s attorney.”
Felicia Jones was a perfect cast member for the Overton family soap opera. She was younger than the sisters by a decade, a tall, blonde, in-your-face opposite of Heath Overton’s wives. The three women sat at the conference table in Grace’s office, Felicia at one end with Melanie and Whitney on either side of her. All of them looked unhappy.
“Why did you have to call them?” Felicia asked. “You could have just given me the address.”
“I don’t give out my clients’ addresses,” Grace said.
“Why did you come to our lawyer’s office, anyway?” Whitney said, asking the question that had been driving Grace crazy.
Felicia said, “What choice did I have? I don’t have your address; I’ve never been here, remember? You all decided you should make the move up here without me. ‘One last trip for your family.’ Wasn’t that what you said, Mel?”
“And you’ve never stopped whining about it,” Whitney sai
d, cutting her sister off.
Melanie sat in her pretzel pose, an oversized cotton sweater adding an extra layer to her thin form. She watched the exchange but said nothing.
“I called Melanie this morning when I landed in Baltimore,” Felicia said. “Hallie answered her phone and was incredibly rude. She said if I wanted to see any of you, I had to call the family attorney. Which, by the way, I resent. How dare you hire a lawyer and not tell me?”
“I’m really sorry about Hallie. I’ll speak to her,” Melanie said. “I apologize for how we’ve handled all of this with you. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Whitney didn’t bother to hide her surprise or her disgust until Melanie gave her a long look.
“Let’s get you home, okay?” Melanie said, turning back to Felicia. “Becca and Sean will be so excited to see you, and we don’t need to take up any more of Ms. Reagan’s time.”
Felicia looked back and forth between the sisters and then at Grace. “What’s wrong?” she demanded, then pointed at Melanie. “This one has never been considerate of my feelings or anyone else’s. And that one,” Whitney got an air poke, “can’t stand me, as you can tell. Now that I’m in their lawyer’s office, everything’s fine? They’re hiding something.”
“Being apart has really helped us understand our mistakes. Heath said a break was what we all needed, and as usual, he was right.” Melanie nodded and smiled her way through her non-explanation.
With a lift of her shoulders and a little smile, Felicia replied, “Yes, he is. That’s why when he said I should let him handle you, I did.”
“Handle us?” Whitney’s outburst made Felicia jump. “What are you saying? Do you know where he is?”
“Yes. Right where he said he’d be.”
Whitney reached for her sister’s hand. The gesture seemed to please Felicia, who opened her clutch purse, took out a wide gold band and slipped it on her left ring finger. Wiggling the shiny ring to catch the light, she said, “I’ll forgive you for not congratulating me right away, but isn’t it exciting? We’re a real family now.”
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