by L C Kincaide
~*~
Flipping through the pages of notes on the yellow pad, Emma felt good about her progress. All she had to do was type, print it then make an appointment with Mr. Morrow and hand it over. After a late supper and stuffed with dumplings, she drove to her apartment stifling yawns, but she didn’t want to lose momentum. She let herself in and turned down the air conditioning to cool down. Humidity had blanketed the city and opening the windows was not an option.
She opened her laptop and started on the Ball file transcribing her notes and adding new ideas as she typed. The next time she looked up it was full dark and while the pages printed, she gathered her clothes into her luggage. She still had to decide where home would be. Eventually, this lifestyle would drive her crazy. But for now, with so much yet to do at the condo, she may as well make it easier for herself. And the view was nicer.
She gave the pages a quick look and filed them back into the satchel with the laptop and added it to the bag waiting by the door then turned up the AC since she didn’t plan on staying the night.
Ready to leave, she remembered the box. She had left it on the counter, but it wasn’t there. Oh great! Now she had to hunt for it and she was tired with still more work ahead with having to put away her stuff at the condo. Crap! It had to be here somewhere. She opened the cupboard doors and eventually found it on the shelf. Dropping it into the satchel, she loaded up and locked the door. Done at last!
She couldn’t help feeling like a pack mule as she headed for the elevator and sensed a growing sympathy for the beasts of burden. If she hadn’t been tired and lazy, she would have been more comfortable taking two trips, but she badly wanted a hot bath.
Her breath caught when she neared her door and the cellophane wrapped package waiting there. She quickly let herself in and dropped her load on the nearest chair then hurried back out. The wrapping crinkled in her hands as she carried the plant to the coffee table and peeled off the wrapping. The envelope tucked inside read, Miss Emma. She was grinning ear to ear as she lifted the arrangement of pink baby roses in a ceramic planter resembling a thatched cottage. The note read, “For wherever home is. A.”
How was it that he always knew the right thing to do? If only he wasn’t so far away. How she wanted to call him, almost desperate to hear his voice, but it was early hours in Europe and he would be asleep, so she left him a text message hoping it wasn’t too sappy.
She took the floral arrangement to her bedroom so she could look at it while sorting out her clothes. Then she carried it to the bathroom counter.
Pathetic.
Before doing anything else the next morning, she called Mr. Morrow’s executive assistant who told her to drop off her plans, and she’d get back to her. Then she phoned her old workplace.
“Jackie, hi! It’s Emma.”
“Emma? Is that really you? Wow, it’s been forever. I’m sorry about your mom. I read about it in the papers. How are you?”
“Doing okay. You?”
“Oh, you know, busy as usual. So, what’s up? Are you thinking of coming back?”
“Actually, I’m calling to see if we can get together. I wanted to show you something.”
“Sure. Why don’t you come around later today? I have my break at ten thirty. We can grab a coffee.”
“Sounds great. I’m looking forward to catching up.”
“Me too.”
Emma hummed a cheerful tune in the shower. Sometimes life seemed to flow. Adam had texted her back saying he made it home, and the barn was coming along nicely, and that he was buying a landau for the carriage rides. And that he was thinking about her. Somebody should come up with a way to teleport.
After dropping off her file, she walked the few blocks to her old office building where she once used to work. Her friend, Jackie was in the graphics department and she in copywriting in one of the fashion magazines and their offices were on the same floor.
“Hey stranger! So good to see you!” Jackie gave her a hug. In her thirties, she was already showing the beginnings of a spread due to a sedentary job, but her avant garde style belied her age, dressed in a short skirt and leggings with huge earrings. A bright bandana restrained her ginger curls.
In the cafeteria, they caught up on the past two years over coffees, Emma sharing only what she could with someone not privy to the Everdon circumstances.
She pushed her half-empty cup away. “Ugh. This coffee’s even worse than I remember.”
“Some things don’t change.”
“I wanted to get your professional opinion on something.” She produced the envelope and handed her the picture. “Would it be possible to enlarge this?”
Jackie took out her horn-rimmed glasses, “Staring at the screen does a number on the eyes,” and peered at the photograph. “What size were you thinking?”
“Sixteen by twenty.”
“That aspect ratio would cut off the sides, but if it’s the size of the photo you’re after, then sure, with a bit of work.”
“Then you’ll do it?”
“For you, sure.”
“It won’t be too much work will it?”
“There’s lots of noise and a few scratches, but I have the software. I’ll enjoy doing something that doesn’t involve Photoshopping impossibly skinny models. It’s ridiculous — nobody’s allowed to have pores, they have to be hairless like a dolphin, guys included, and God forbid anyone has cellulite, stretch marks or moles. The industry makes it really hard to raise girls so they don’t grow up with body issues. This should be a nice change.”
“Thank you! This means a lot.”
“You’re welcome. Give me a couple of days. I’ll call you.”
Emma kept herself busy sorting out her belongings and waiting for the calls. With the ballroom booked, she called Juilliard and Carrie. By Friday, she had two appointments and the school’s blessings.
“That’s very impressive.” Mr. Morrow said with her file on his desk.
“Thank you. I’ve also secured a featured pianist and a string quartet from Juilliard. I thought they could start with classical music during the cocktails with the mini-concert then switch to jazz for the dancing.”
He nodded while she spoke of her plans adding more of what she had envisioned. He then led her to another floor to meet some PR people for the marketing materials which she had no idea how to approach. Being Elinor’s daughter sure made things easier. If not for that, who knows how long she’d have to struggle to even gain a passing glance from any of the professionals she had met since starting her project. A stab of guilt reminded her just how privileged she was. Adam had paved his way on his own merit and hard work, and she discovered she wanted him to be proud of her and her accomplishments, to see her as a capable woman and not a spoiled, messed up rich girl. The Ball had gained more importance than it had started with.
CHAPTER 14
~*~
They agreed to meet at Chuckie and Ray’s, a lively bistro many of the employees on the block frequented. Red vinyl banquettes and chrome barstools at the long counter, and a checkered floor reminded her of a happy bygone era. A jukebox pumping out tunes further enhanced the fifties diner atmosphere.
Emma arrived and waited for Jackie, her first visit since quitting her job following the final Weekend. She had been here with Ivy a couple of times for lunch and still remembered where they had sat. It seemed a lifetime ago. Being so far away from the manor made it all so surreal, as if that Weekend had happened to someone else, or as if she had watched the movie and none of it had transpired at all.
“Sorry I’m late.” Jackie slid into the booth breathless.
“Is that it?” Emma perked up, her eyes fixed on the cardboard tube in her friend’s hand.
“Don’t unroll it here, there might be grease on the table. I printed a smaller version so you could see.”
She gave her the print in a plastic sleeve.
“Wow. That’s incredible. I can’t believe how clear it is… the detail. It’s as if the picture was taken yesterday!” She met her eyes. “You are a miracle worker.”
“Thank you. I had fun doing it.”
“I really owe you for this.”
Jackie flapped a hand. “Food works for me.” She said studying the menu. “I don’t get out much with the girls being at this age.”
“Do you do private gigs?”
“It depends on how long it would take and the money. Why? Do you know of something?”
“I’m looking for a designer for invitation cards.”
“Okay, give me the details.”
Emma gave her the specifics and ideas of how she wanted the design to appear.
“I’ll get on it as soon as you send me the photos.” She turned her attention to the menu. “Hmmm… I wonder if their grilled salmon sandwich is any good.”
“Let’s find out.”
After they went their separate ways, Emma was eager to talk to Rachel and share her updates. With everything coming along beautifully, she felt heartened. Adam will be happy with her gift and she was glad to reciprocate. Pedestrians hurried past her on their way to lunch or heading back to work. It had been a long time since she had been doing just that. After the last two years of uncertainty and barely managed chaos, it felt good to be part of society again.
“Emma!”
She stopped upon hearing her name.
“Emma Stuart!”
A woman’s voice called again, and she glanced around to see who it was. A former co-worker?
“I thought you looked familiar.” A brunette around thirty, her hair cut in a short bob and wearing a summer suit approached her and stopped. Brown eyes scraped over her, the mouth set in a tight line. She appeared both weary and hostile. This wasn’t anyone Emma recognized.
“I know she was there.” The woman accused.
Emma gaped at her. Was she crazy? She must have confused her with someone else, but she had addressed her by name.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, so sorry, we’ve never met. I’m Jen Maclean. Ivy Wylmot’s friend.” She said coolly, not extending her hand for a shake.
Emma gripped the cardboard tube. The Jen person to whom her mother had referred. The one who kept sending that horrible detective after them with suspicions of how they had killed Ivy and disposed of her body.
“What do you want?”
“To see you behind bars for the murder of my friend.”
“You’re way out of line! The investigation is long over and we had nothing to do with whatever happened to her.” She tried to get past, but the woman grabbed her arm.
“I’m not finished with you yet. If it takes me the rest of my life, I will find something to implicate you and bring you all to justice.”
“Let go of me!” Emma wrenched herself free. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“We’ll just see about that, won’t we?” Jen spat giving her a good shove before moving on.
Emma trembled watching Jen storm down the sidewalk. The woman was crazy. Had to be. Nobody would believe her, she tried to reassure herself that the nightmare was not going to resume.
She watched Jen’s retreating figure turn at the intersection and begin to cross the road. A delivery van barrelled from around the corner and before Jen could react, it struck her with full force, her body buckling the front end before shattering the windshield. More tires screeched as she glanced off to the side and tumbled several feet before rolling to a stop, her limbs twisted at impossible angles in a spreading pool of blood. Someone screamed and pedestrians rushed from all directions to help, but Jen was beyond saving. A dozen calls went out to 911 amidst blaring horns. Emma’s stomach clenched, and she lurched to the nearest waste can and threw up.
The traffic came to a sudden halt, clogging the intersection. Sirens approached. She had to leave, not that anyone would remember them talking, but the police always asked for witnesses to come forward, and she couldn’t take the chance. Taking a final glance at the huge crowd that had amassed straining to see the carnage, she backtracked to her car.
Oh, God! How did that happen? She wasn’t aware of how long she huddled in the sedan and steeling her nerves, she pulled away from the curb and drove to Rachel’s her knuckles white on the steering wheel.
“I hope you weren’t caught in the traffic jam downtown. There was a really bad accident.”
“I know. I saw the whole thing.”
“You did?” She steered Emma to the nearest chair. “Oh, my God! No wonder you look so pale. Sit. I’ll get you a drink.”
“No, thanks, I can’t. My stomach is a mess. A glass of water, please?”
“Sure thing. I’ll be right back.”
Rachel returned with a glass of ice water and Emma sipped it grateful for the soothing coolness in her parched throat.
“They said a delivery van struck a woman crossing the road. How horrible. They’re so aggressive…”
“I know who she is… was.”
“What?”
“She stopped me on the sidewalk minutes before it happened. It was Jen, Ivy’s friend who started the investigation after the last Weekend.”
“Just like that? She came up to you? But you never met!”
“She must have seen my picture somewhere, maybe even seen me with Ivy for all I know.”
“So, the case was closed. What did she want?”
“What did who want?” Matthew entered the room.
“That Jen woman who was responsible for all the trouble after Ivy’s disappearance accosted Emma today.”
“You’d think she’d have let it go by now.” He remarked and took a seat on the couch strangely alone without the baby in his arms.
“Not exactly.”
“What did she say?” He asked.
“That she wanted us in prison for Ivy’s murder.”
“Really? Seriously?” Matthew and Rachel spoke at the same time.
“She finally let it go. That was the woman killed today.” Rachel informed him.
“Oh.”
“She told me she’d see us put away if it took the rest of her life. The next thing I saw was her thrown in the air.”
A deep silence followed.
“It’s creepy.” Emma muttered.
“Emma, please tell me you don’t think her death has anything to do with you. It was an accident, wasn’t it, Matt?”
He nodded. “Yes, an accident.”
“The driver was speeding and not paying attention and neither was she. These things happen every day, dozens of times. Tell her, Matt.”
“Every day. Dozens.”
Emma looked from one to the other sitting side-by-side. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you’re starting to sound like a really bad stand-up routine.”
Rachel winced at her husband.
“It was weird. Too much of a coincidence.”
“That may be, but it’s not as if you pushed her into the road.” Rachel insisted not liking the dazed, haunted look in Emma’s eyes. And just when everything was going so well too.
“If you could have seen her. She was angry and bitter. Hostile. I’m sure she would have loved to push me under a car if she’d had the chance. Funny thing is, I don’t blame her for feeling that way. She and Ivy were best friends, and suddenly she was gone without a trace.”
“It’s tragic no matter how you look at it.”
“Now she knows the truth. At least I hope she does.”
“There’s consolation in that.”
They contemplated the tragedy.
“So, who’s up for a steak?” Matthew broke the h
eavy silence rising to his feet.
“What, no paprikash, dumplings or goulash?”
“Mom has the night off from cooking. It’s been so hot out. Why didn’t we take a house on a beach for the summer?”
“Because everyone else did.”
“Right. We’d get a pool, but with Ella, I’d be scared to death to have that in the back yard. Maybe I’ll buy one of those plastic kiddie pools. We can soak our butts in it.”
“Now, there’s a pretty picture!” Matthew laughed and headed for the kitchen.
“Come on. Let’s make a salad before the Princess wakes up.”
The events of the afternoon had affected Emma more than she realized; she ate only half of her steak and potato and barely touched the wine. Her appetite had been effectively killed and everything tasted bad.
“Why don’t you stay the night? After a day like this, you shouldn’t be alone.”
“Thanks, but I’m okay. I probably just need to sleep it off. I’ll be fine in the morning.”
Rachel looked at her with skepticism, not liking her alone state one bit. Adam would have to get his act together soon if he knew what was good for him. How many times was Emma expected to wait around for a man?
“Where’s my bag?” Emma searched the room and finding it hanging off a chair reached for it. The handle slipped through her fingers and it dropped to the floor. The box she had tossed in there earlier tumbled out at her feet.
“What’s that?” Rachel stooped to pick it up.
“That’s what was in the safe deposit box. I brought it to show you and I forgot.”
“Well, let’s not keep us in suspense! Open it!” Rachel steered Emma back to the couch.
Emma unwrapped the small package easily. The desiccated tape holding the paper wrapping together fell away leaving a powdery residue. The box itself was plain cardboard with no markings to indicate its contents, and she opened the flap.