“Now, Whitney might have accepted and adjusted if she’d been the only one hurt, but she wasn’t. The whole family was hurt. And because she’s a fixer, a protector, Whitney couldn’t let that stand.”
“What do you think she did?” McNamara asked.
“Felicia killed the dream, so Whitney smothered her and somehow had bloody clothes and….” None of it made sense, and Banks didn’t want to say anything else wrong. But McNamara was waiting for an answer, and once more Banks was coming up short. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, defeated.
“Me either,” McNamara said. “Let’s go find out.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Grace’s only goal for Sunday morning was to eat. The pounding pressure in her head and nausea had both evaporated overnight, and she wanted to eat the French toast and bacon she’d just made.
Niki appeared as she took the first bite. “Thought I smelled something good.”
Grace got another plate and forked half the stack of toast onto it and added a piece of bacon. She handed it over and said, “I haven’t eaten anything substantial in ages, please let me get this down.”
“Go ahead and eat. I’m not stopping you.”
Niki pulled a stool to the opposite side of the kitchen island and made a show of reading her phone as she ate. Before her arrival, the little apartment at the top of Delaney House had been a haven. Now it was becoming uncomfortable.
Grace got up and nudged the AC control down a notch. “I’m not up to talking about anything negative, okay? With everything that’s happened this week and David’s visit last night, I need some peace and quiet.”
“Jeez. Quit yammering at me and eat. It’s not like I came up this early just to ruin your Zen, but we have to make a decision on the furniture this morning, and we have to get a photographer to do the shots today.”
Grace groaned. “After I eat. I mean it.”
“Why? It’s not bad, I promise. The gallery owner decided to ship whatever we don’t take to a show in St. Louis, and he wants to pick everything up tomorrow, that’s all.”
“Easy,” Grace said around a mouthful of food. “The only pieces I like enough to buy are the sideboard and the dining room table. How much are they?”
“Not the settees for the parlors and the writing desk? What about the — ”
“The sideboard and table?” Grace repeated, recognizing a misdirection when she heard it. “How much?”
“Twenty-two.”
“Thousand?”
“For the sideboard. The table is only ten.” Niki’s shoulders went back, and she sat very, very straight on her stool. “They’re authenticated pieces and are priced very well. We could sell them for more at any time.”
Grace tried to force down another bite. If she spoke now, it would not go well.
Niki raced into her sales pitch, words tumbling out as she tried to stem the explosion she saw coming. “I know it’s a big number, but we need to furnish the common areas in keeping with the house and the image we’re selling. Now, I also found a solution for the shortage in the decorating account. We haven’t been taking in to account function rentals. I’m working on brochures to send out to local businesses and groups advertising the first floor for meetings and party venues. The brochures will only run a couple thousand and — ”
“Stop. For the love of all that’s holy, please stop.”
Grace’s headache was thumping again. Six months ago, she’d had one enormous house she couldn’t sell. Today she had a half-furnished inn and a cousin for a partner in a business she didn’t want. All because she hadn’t said ‘no’ at the outset to the one person she considered to be her family. She carefully placed her knife and fork on the table beside her mostly full plate and tried not to panic.
“I knew you’d be okay when I explained it all,” Niki said as she dug into her breakfast. “And if you want to stay here for a while when you get back from Europe, you can share the apartment with me while you decide what to do next. It’ll be fun.”
Grace pushed her plate away. The toast was a greasy mess, and the bacon fat was revolting. She smoothed out the paper towel she’d used as a napkin and draped it over the food.
This seemed to get Niki’s attention. “Jeez, you weren’t kidding. I guess I should have let you eat before pouring all this out. You should go to bed.”
“A bit late for you to catch on, don’t you think?” Grace’s rational side was saying ‘slow down’ and other warnings that her emotions ignored. She grabbed both plates, and dumped the still fragrant food into the trash can. “Happy?” she yelled and ran for the bathroom.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Niki asked. The plastic stick lay between them on the bedspread, its bright blue plus sign telling her what Grace couldn’t. “I’m so sorry.”
“About which part?” Grace removed the wet washcloth from her forehead and tried to lay back on the pillows, but sat up again when her stomach twisted. She wiped her face and gestured to the stick. “Or about pushing me out of my own house? Or about being so damned insensitive, I could die right here and you’d still be spending my money?”
Niki flinched, but reached over and took Grace’s hand. “All of it,” she said. “I was just so excited about the inn and about us having a business. I’ll return all the furniture, and I promise, promise, promise the inns will be successful. I’ll repay every penny of your money and help you sell this place in a couple of years if you still want to give up a gold mine.”
Grace didn’t respond, but she didn’t pull her hand away, either.
Niki looked at the stick with its life-altering message. “How do you feel about this? Has it ever happened to you before?”
“No.”
“Me, either. It’s just not fair when you’re this close to going to Paris. But I know a good doctor. You don’t need to tell David. It can all be over in a few days.”
Niki spent a long time listening first to retching and then to water running. She’d washed the dishes, remade the bed, and answered a dozen emails when Grace finally joined her in the sitting room.
“You’d do that?” she asked without preamble. “Get it taken care of and not tell Aidan?”
“Yes. No. I mean,” Niki took a deep breath. “I made tea. Sit.”
Grace sat on the edge of the love seat as if poised to run. Niki could see the tremor in her hands from ten feet away. She brought a half-full mug of Earl Grey to her cousin and said, “Sip it slowly. I put lemon in to settle your stomach.”
“It’s going to take more than lemon,” Grace said and set the mug down. “Tell me what you’d do. The truth, Nik. There’s only one answer for me, so you won’t influence my decision.”
Niki was scared, and she felt guilty. She didn’t have a truth to tell on the subject of pregnancy, and if she said the wrong thing, Grace might go off again. “I think it would depend on when you asked me. I’ve never wanted children. Look at the train wreck our family is. I’d never subject an innocent baby to my parents.”
Wrong, wrong, wrong. Maybe Grace wanted the baby. She regrouped and tried again. “But, Aidan’s good with kids. He’s a goof-ball and everything, but he’s a good man. I might have his baby, but I wouldn’t marry him.” She didn’t know what else to do, so she shut up, and they sat in silence.
After a while, Grace said, “I’m going to DC tomorrow to see my doctor.”
“What about David?”
Grace shook her head. “I told him yesterday. He needs time to take it all in. And drop it, okay? Keep this to yourself until I tell you otherwise. I’m serious, Nik. Nothing to anyone. Can you do it? If you can’t, tell me now.”
“I’ll go with you tomorrow, and I won’t tell a soul.”
“No, I can handle this.”
“Yes, you can, but you’re not going to. You have me.” Niki stood, for once able to look down at her cousin as she spoke. “You’re not alone, Gracie.”
Grace closed her eyes and leaned back on the sofa. Minutes later, Niki was saying, “Her
e, try this.”
“Cinnamon?”
“Basically, just hot sugar water with cinnamon. See if you can keep a few sips down.”
After a mug of the cinnamon water and a piece of toast, Grace had to admit she felt better.
“I’m making a pitcher of this,” Niki said. “Keep sipping it all day. It’s the most important thing, staying hydrated, so concentrate on that. The sugar keeps your energy level up a little, too. Of course, you’ve got to eat real food whenever you can.”
“You know all of this because, why?”
“Always the helpful girlfriend, never the preggo one,” Niki laughed, then winced. “Sorry. I’m nervous, and the wrong things keep popping out. At least I can make a mean hot water, huh?”
Grace’s phone chimed, ending the conversation, and not just for the moment. Whitney Overton didn’t waste words easing into the reason for her call.
“Can you come to me?” Whitney’s voice was steady, but an octave higher than usual. “I’m in Easton, in a shopping center off the bypass. I’m parked in the Target parking lot near a bank and — ”
“I know where it is,” Grace said. “What’s happened?”
“Something bad. I think the police are looking for me.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Armed with a sleeve of saltines and a bottle of Niki’s cinnamon-sugar water, Grace raced down Route 50 toward Easton. The distraction from her immediate personal problems seemed to banish the remaining tendrils of discomfort, but did nothing to push the baby out of Grace’s thoughts.
God Almighty, a baby.
Tomorrow she’d be driving in the opposite direction on her way see a doctor who would tell her what she already knew. She was pregnant. She’d gone through her calendar, matching memory to dates, and realized she was at least two months along. How could she be so blind to something so obvious?
Unless it was menopause. She’d never had regular cycles, and now she had early onset menopause. Or a disease. A disease that made two pregnancy tests read positive and caused her to throw up everything she ate.
Her mind twisted back and forth between the possible reasons for her symptoms and David’s initial reaction to the stick with the bright blue stain.
Whose is it? She would never forgive him.
She was a mess from top to bottom, and it was in this fine state that she reached MD 322, the short bypass that rounded the western side of Easton.
When she found the green van in the Target parking lot, she barely had time to pop the locks before Whitney was at the BMW’s passenger door. Once inside, her client said ‘thank God,’ in a small voice and closed her eyes.
“Take it easy. It’s going to be okay,” Grace said. Trite words which were rarely true, but saying anything else seemed cruel.
“No, it isn’t,” Whitney said. “Were you followed? I forgot to tell you to be careful about that.”
“Who would follow me? The police?”
Whitney nodded. “A patrol car just drove through the parking lot. Look, Mel and I talked all night about what to do next. We decided to take the family home to Atlanta. I was on the way to Mallard Bay to pack but didn’t get far before Mel called and told me the police were at the house. I was afraid to go back to the hotel in case they were there, too.”
“And how did Melanie know that?” Grace asked, wondering why she didn’t know it herself. News of police at the Overton house would have flown all over Mallard Bay in minutes. Had she missed any obvious signs as she left town? She’d heard about Baby Brain, the muddled mental state that sabotaged pregnant women. Did she have it already?
Or maybe she had Alzheimer’s. With morning sickness.
“Avril Oxley called Hallie. They’re friends, of sorts. I understand Avril’s a friend of yours, too, but she’s been a royal pain to Mel and me. Now I guess I owe her an apology. I would have driven right up to the house and been arrested on the spot.”
Grace checked her phone and saw three calls and a voice mail from Avril that must have come in while she was barricaded in the bathroom.
“Why?” she asked. “On what charge?”
Whitney dug into a diaper bag, which was doing double duty as her purse. “Do you take checks? Or, I can make a call and transfer the money to your firm. The point is, I want to give you another retainer. I want to be sure you’ll continue to represent our family, all of us. How do we do that?”
“What happened, Whitney?”
“It’s bad, and that’s all I can say until you agree to represent us no matter what happens.”
Grace grabbed the bottle of cinnamon water and sipped it, buying herself a moment to assess the situation. “Okay. Here’s what I can do. You and Melanie and your children are my clients already. The first retainer you gave me still has a credit balance. You don’t owe me anything right now. I may not be the best attorney for you. I’m working for Mr. Mosley temporarily for about another month, and then I’ll be away for a while. Mr. Mosley isn’t taking new clients. If I can help you, I will, and if I can’t, I’ll help you get new representation. Everything you’ve told me will remain confidential, even when I’m not representing you. Does that sound fair?”
A greenish-blue vein pulsed at Whitney’s temple. Dark circles under eyes testified to her sleepless night, and she clutched the diaper bag like a life vest. Her eyes were shiny with tears, but unlike her sister, she held them in. “You’re a nice person, you know that?” she said. “We could have been friends. I would have liked that.”
Touched, Grace said, “I’ll do all I can for you, and I won’t leave you without good legal representation. And when this is all over, we’ll be friends.”
“I don’t think so.” Whitney reached for Grace’s hand. “I may have killed Felicia.”
“May have?”
“That’s the first thing you need to do. Find out how she died. If she didn’t overdose, I smothered her, and I’m pretty sure the police know.”
“She ruined everything,” Whitney said. “You saw how Felicia was, but Friday night was unreal. All she talked about was keeping the family away from you and the police so that Lightning Strike would still work with us. She kept talking about doing the show without Heath, and the children were getting upset.”
A small sports car took the turn into the bank parking lot too fast, causing horns to blare and making both Grace and Whitney jump.
“I’m so scared, everything makes me flinch,” Whitney said. “I’ve never been as angry as I was with Felicia. In our real life, we’re happy people. In Atlanta, I had the life I always wanted — a big family, children, and Mel was as happy, too. She’s actually a lot of fun most of the time. Heath was sweet to me. He and Mellie were closer as a couple, but Heath and I loved each other, too. The three of us were a team. I never thought either of them was unhappy. If we’d had enough money for the lifestyle they wanted, Heath would never have wanted a third wife and a TV show.” She scanned the lot, then sighed again. “This is so hard.”
Grace had let her talk without interrupting, but now she said, “If time is as short as you say, let’s skip to the part that will concern the police.”
Whitney cleared her throat and sat up. “It’s been such a horrible week. Heath. The fire. Mellie slapping Felicia in your office. The awful fights and yelling. That’s not us. We’re… we’re peaceful.”
“What happened Friday night?”
“Felicia had been horrible all afternoon, but after dinner, she completely lost her grip. She pulled Mel and me out onto the porch to yell at us again about the fight with you. I couldn’t believe she’d taken Hallie with her when she followed you out of town.” She gave Grace a tired smile. “You’re a rock star in that kid’s eyes, by the way.”
Grace felt her cheeks warm. “Oh, good. That’s the sort of influence I want to have on the next generation. What happened after that?”
“I said I’d have called the police on her, too, if I’d been you. I had to end the argument because the kids could hear us, and we needed t
o get the littles into bed. Mel and I rounded them up and left Felicia downstairs. We thought Hallie was with the big kids, but she waited until we left to confront Felicia. She told Felicia to leave for good, or she’d tell us that Felicia had been with Heath when he’d rented the car in Baltimore.” Whitney reached out and patted Grace’s shoulder. “Is that why you left those messages on Friday afternoon?”
“Yes.” Grace was glad to have it off her chest. “I’d hoped Hallie hadn’t overheard that part of my argument with Felicia. Yesterday wasn’t the right time, but I need to tell Chief McNamara soon, and I wanted you and Melanie to hear it from me. I’m sorry.”
“For what? That Felicia lied, or that Heath did? So many horrible things have happened, I don’t even know where to rank that one on the scale of awfulness.”
“I hate to add to the list,” Grace said. “But now the police can’t question Felicia. She said she knew where Heath was, but she wouldn’t say where.”
“That sounds like her,” Whitney said. “You may as well tell him, the Chief, I mean. What if it wasn’t Felicia? They need to find out if there’s a fourth woman.”
Grace drank her cinnamon water and didn’t respond. She’d never felt less like judging anyone else’s craziness.
It took several minutes for Whitney to pull herself together, but eventually, she said, “Back to Friday night. We heard Felicia and Hallie yelling all the way upstairs. When we came down, we saw Hallie doubled up and Felicia standing over her. Felicia said Hallie had fallen and bitten her lip and thrown up. While we were taking care of Hallie and getting all the kids back in bed, Felicia slipped upstairs and locked herself in Hallie’s bedroom.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because after she tried to spank Faith for ruining her clothes, I’d told her if she touched one of the children again, I’d kill her. When Hallie could talk, she told us Felicia had hit her in the stomach. Hard. And she also told us why. I wanted to call the police, but Mel wanted to handle Felicia without publicity. We were afraid to say anything yesterday when the police were there, and later it didn’t seem important anymore.”
Bad Intent Page 17