A Murderer Among Us

by Marilyn Levinson

  Lydia nodded. The toxicology report had included this information because of her input in the case. “Your wife was taking an herbal supplement in capsule form.”

  Weill’s eyes gleamed. “How do you know? Where did she get these capsules?”

  “I don’t know where she got them, but Doris told me Claire took them to look and feel younger. She wanted to regain your attention.”

  “Oh my God!” He buried his face in his hands. “Claire darling, I’ll find out who did this to you!” When he looked up, Lydia saw tears in his eyes. Marshall Weill was grieving for his wife.

  He cleared his throat and shifted back to his clever, man-of-the-world persona. “When did Doris tell you about these capsules?”

  “A few days after Claire died.”

  “And now Doris is dead.” Marshall’s voice rose with excitement. “See the connection? Someone killed them both because of those damn pills.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Doris fell down…”

  “Whom did you tell—what Doris said about the capsules?” he asked urgently.

  “Let me think. Detective Molina, Barbara and Caroline. Why?”

  “Because I bet the capsules are dangerous and illegal. Which accounts for why Claire told no one else about them, including her best friend. For some reason Doris knew, word got out that she knew, and the drug supplier killed them.”

  Appalled, Lydia stared at him. His logic was as screwy as a Marx Brothers film. “You can’t believe those capsules have anything to do with Claire’s death. She was run down by a car. My car.”

  “Why? By whom? I’ve just told you the only theory that makes any sense. Please, Lydia, help me find the person who killed my Claire. Talk to the other residents. See what you can find out. They all think I’m guilty and turn away when I go into the clubhouse.”

  Though she didn’t agree with his theory, she wanted to find Claire’s murderer almost as much as he did. “All right,” she said. “I’ll do what I can, though I can’t promise any results.”

  He grasped her hands in his. “Thank you, Lydia! I am eternally grateful.”

  She pulled her hands free. “I’ve one question, Marshall. Did you activate the pool cover when I was swimming laps the Wednesday after Claire died?”

  His eyes widened. “Of course I didn’t! You have to believe me.”

  Oddly enough, she did.

  Eleven

  Though Thanksgiving Day started out gray and gloomy, the sun made an appearance around noon. Lydia hardly noticed; she was too busy preparing a sweet potato casserole and three different desserts. It would be only the five of them for dinner, since Abbie and Todd were spending the day with his relatives in Connecticut, though Meredith had invited friends to join them for dessert.

  At two-thirty she set out for Merry and Jeff’s house. Brittany opened the door for her, and Lydia was assailed by the delicious aroma of roast turkey.

  “I helped Mommy make the stuffing,” she announced.

  “She sure did,” Jeff said. He kissed Lydia’s cheek, then relieved her of the two shopping bags filled with food. He peeled back the tinfoil of one cake. “Mmm, looks yummy. I can’t wait to dig my fork into everything.” He strode toward the kitchen. “I’ll put these away. Sit down and relax in the den.”

  Lydia ignored his suggestion and followed him into the large kitchen. Her daughter was cutting up salad amid a counter piled high with various foods and cooking utensils.

  “Hi, sweetie. Anything I can do to help?”

  Meredith turned, her face strained with tension. “Hi, Mom. You can finish the salad while I clear off some space to get to the appetizers and soup.”

  “Appetizers and soup?” Lydia wondered aloud. “You certainly have gone whole hog.”

  “It’s Thanksgiving, isn’t it? I want to set family traditions the girls will look back on and remember.”

  Lydia gritted her teeth, remembering that she, Izz, and the girls had often eaten Thanksgiving dinner in restaurants.

  The puff-pastry appetizers, squash consommé, turkey and accompanying vegetables were well prepared and tasty. Lydia complimented her daughter, hoping to bring a smile to her lips, but Meredith remained tense. Once she snapped at Brittany for acting silly. The child’s face reddened as she reached for Lydia’s hand.

  As for Jeff, Meredith rarely spoke to him except to give directives. At one point, he paused behind her chair on his way to cutting up more turkey in the kitchen.

  “Relax, Merry,” he joked, “this is supposed to be a fun day, remember?” He massaged the nape of her neck. She leaned back, relishing the comfort he offered, then, as though suddenly remembering something, she jerked forward. Jeff seemed puzzled as he headed for the kitchen.

  Meredith’s mood lifted as soon as everyone finished the main course. She turned talkative, almost hyper, Lydia thought as she helped her daughter clear the table. Maybe she was simply relieved that the meal was over and everyone had eaten well.

  In the kitchen, Lydia started putting leftovers into plastic containers.

  “I’ll call my friends and tell them to come for coffee in half an hour,” Merry said. “Be back in a jiffy.”

  She dashed upstairs, leaving Lydia to wonder why she hadn’t made her calls from the kitchen. She probably needs a few moments to herself, Lydia decided, and continued with her task.

  Lydia was stacking the dishwasher when her daughter reappeared, a broad smile on her face. She’d freshened up her lipstick and eye shadow.

  “Everyone will be over in half an hour.” She kissed her mother’s cheek. “Thanks, Mom. I didn’t mean to leave all the scut work for you. I’ll finish up. Go relax in the den with Jeff and the girls.”

  “Shall I set the table for coffee and dessert?”

  “No, I’ll take care of that. You’ve done enough.”

  Pleased to see her daughter in good spirits, Lydia followed the sounds of a football game. Jeff was comfortably ensconced in his recliner watching the game, while the girls played with their dolls on the sofa. They made room for her to sit and included her in their conversation. Impulsively, Lydia hugged Brittany and then Greta. Meredith had a wonderful family and a wonderful life. She’d be a fool to put everything in jeopardy for the sake of a little excitement.

  Lydia leaned back against the sofa’s cushions and basked in a wave of contentment. Moving to Twin Lakes hadn’t been a mistake, after all. She adored having a close relationship with her granddaughters and looked forward to years of their company as they grew and developed into young women. If Meredith wanted to return to work early and asked her to babysit, she’d rearrange her work hours and watch them for as long as she could.

  She was almost sorry when the doorbell rang, announcing that visitors had arrived. The girls stopped what they were doing and flew to the door. Jeff followed after them. Lydia brought up the rear and joined the now crowded center hall as Merry’s family greeted the child and couple who had arrived.

  “Mom, this is Cerilla and Jim,” Meredith said.

  Lydia greeted the couple she’d chatted with at Brittany’s soccer game.

  “This is Mandy,” Brittany said, bringing the blonde little girl, a replica of her mother, over to meet her.

  “Hi, Mandy,” Lydia said. “I’m Greta and Brittany’s grandma.”

  “Nice to meet you. My real name is Amanda,” Mandy offered.

  Before Lydia could respond, the doorbell rang again and a young woman and two children entered the house. To give them enough space to take off their jackets, the party spilled into the living room. Jeff made the introductions.

  “Jen, Timmy and Cassandra, meet my mother-in-law, Mrs. Krause.”

  Lydia smiled and exchanged greetings with the mother over the heads of the five excited children, all talking at the same time. The children raced up the staircase and their parents moved into the dining room.

  Meredith was assigning seats when the bell rang a third time. She stopped in midsentence. “I’ll get that!” she announced.


  “I’ll go,” Lydia offered, since she was closest to the door.

  “That’s all right, Mom,” Meredith said, edging around the table.

  But Lydia was already in motion. She opened the front door and stared openly at the handsome young man facing her. He had a square-shaped face, wavy black hair and a winning smile. God, he was gorgeous! He wore no outer jacket, but a blue and gray tweed blazer and a pale gray shirt open at the neck.

  “Hello,” he said in an even, modulated voice. “Is this the home of Merry and Jeff Rothman?”

  Lydia nodded, and stepped back to let him enter. She nearly tripped over her daughter as Merry rushed forward to take the man’s outstretched hand, which she clasped between both of hers.

  “I’m glad you found the house.”

  “Your directions were perfect.”

  Their eyes locked with an intensity that blocked out everything else. Lydia grew alarmed. What if Jeff or any of their guests were to notice? She cleared her throat and placed a hand on each of their shoulders.

  “Meredith, dear, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

  Meredith blinked as if she were emerging from a darkened theatre. “Of course. Mom, this is Steve Thiergard. Steve, my mother, Lydia Krause.” She gave a little laugh. “Actually, the two of you are neighbors in a way.”

  * * *

  Lydia sat before her untouched cup of coffee and marveled at the way her daughter and Steve Thiergard performed like veteran actors in front of the others. Merry had introduced him as an old college friend she’d run into a few months ago. For all she knew, that part could be absolutely true, though she didn’t remember Meredith ever mentioning having met up with an old friend from Lehigh. No one, least of all Jeff, found his presence unusual. The other adults greeted him, then turned to each other, eager to catch up on news about their children and neighborhood gossip. Was she the only person who saw the sparks flying between them?

  How dare Meredith bring this man into her home! How dare Steve Thiergard invade another man’s inner sanctum and openly devour his wife with hungry eyes!

  Lydia was about to claim a headache and make excuses for an early departure when Steve, who had already said he was a pharmaceutical rep, mentioned that his territory was being changed to the Island and he was considering buying a townhouse nearby. Lydia’s heart raced as she considered all this implied. Was her daughter’s marriage in serious trouble? She’d have a talk with Meredith very soon, and this time she’d give her a piece of her mind. But right now she needed to listen and ask questions to learn as much as possible.

  Steve proved to be an entertaining guest. He participated intelligently in the conversation, turning frequently to Jen on his right for her opinion, which she was more than happy to express. The subject turned to medicine then to herbal supplements. Cerilla said she was a great believer in natural supplements and asked what Steve’s take on them was, given that he dealt with lab-made medicines.

  The endearing smile Steve bestowed upon Cerilla made Lydia wonder if she’d imagined the connection between him and Meredith earlier—until she realized that his passion was for his subject and not her daughter’s intense friend.

  “You’ve just touched on the subject closest to my heart. I believe the right supplements add longevity and health to the average person’s life.”

  Jen nodded vigorously. “I agree. Even doctors are recommending them now. Everyone knows all women should take calcium.”

  “I take CoQ 10 on my doctor’s recommendation,” Cerilla added.

  “Glucosamine chondroitin has worked wonders for my arthritic pain,” Lydia chimed in.

  “Sure, those are all great,” Jim said, “but others are downright dangerous. How many people died after taking ephedra? I think it’s a damn good thing the FDA finally stepped in to regulate the industry.”

  “You think so, eh?” Steve asked.

  “Sure,” Jeff chimed in. “People are too quick to try anything that promises eternal youth and vitality.”

  “Well, I have news for you,” Steve answered belligerently. “The FDA doesn’t know its ass from its elbow when it comes to natural supplements. Sometimes they’re heavy-handed and ban a substance that works miracles when taken in small doses.”

  “You mean like arsenic or belladonna?” Meredith said.

  “Everything in moderation,” Jim joked.

  Steve wasn’t amused. “Supplements can do amazing things—like reversing the aging process.”

  “Oh, sure,” Cerilla scoffed. “Monkey glands. The Fountain of Youth. Through the ages, man has tried to preserve youth, only nothing works.”

  “Really? What if I told you certain botanical herbs combined together are the real McCoy?” His eyes went to Lydia. “What if I told you Mrs. Krause would look as young as her daughter after taking this formula for six months?”

  Silence reigned as everyone considered Steve’s words. Lydia stared at him, trying to remember what Doris had told her about Claire’s miracle compound. Had she stumbled upon the person who’d sold her the capsules, here in her daughter’s home? It was possible. Very possible. Steve Thiergard stayed at Twin Lakes several days at a time.

  She felt her son-in-law squeeze her shoulder as he spoke. “I, for one, think Lydia’s perfect as she is.”

  “But what about the dangers?” Cerilla demanded. “There have to be side effects. There are side effects to every drug.”

  “Potential side effects, yes, but we haven’t seen any.”

  “Do you actually sell this stuff?” Jen asked.

  “Not yet,” Steve replied. “It’s still in the testing stage.”

  Lydia wasn’t prepared to call him a liar. After all, she had no proof that Steve Thiergard had sold the capsules to Claire, though it certainly looked that way. Instead she said, “I take it the company you work for will manufacture this wonder drug.”

  Steve cleared his throat. “My friend’s company is working on this product and I’ve been helping him out. As for my paying job, I sell meds related to gastrointestinal problems.”

  He went on to extol the wonderful pharmaceutical products his company had on the market. Lydia decided bringing the conversation back to the herbal compound might raise his suspicions if he was Claire’s supplier and if he had anything to do with her murder. Instead, she stood and began her good-byes. Jeff stood, too. “I’ll get your coat,” he offered.

  “Thank you, Jeff, but Meredith can get it for me,” she said in her best CEO tone.

  Startled, Merry followed her into the hall where she retrieved Lydia’s good wool coat from the hall closet.

  “Thank you.” Lydia put on her coat then kissed her daughter’s cheek. “Dinner was terrific.”

  “And your sweet potato pie and cakes were great. I’ll speak to you soon.”

  Merry turned, eager to return to her guests, when Lydia put a hand on her arm.

  “Let’s have brunch together on Sunday. Just you and me. I’m sure Jeff will be home then to watch the girls.”

  Meredith opened her mouth to dispute this high-handed arrangement, but one glance at her mother’s expression changed her mind.

  “Good,” Lydia said. “Why don’t I come for you at eleven? There’s a restaurant not far from here I’ve been wanting to try. I’ll see myself out after I say good-bye to the girls.”

  Home again, Lydia fed a hungry Reggie, then changed into jeans and an old sweater. She should call Sol Molina about Steve Thiergard, but too many strings held her back. She didn’t want to disturb his family dinner with his daughter. Even more important, she resisted offering information connected to her daughter. Not that Meredith had anything to do with Steve’s wonder capsule. It was the affair itself that kept her hand from dialing.

  Peg called to see how her Thanksgiving dinner had gone. She’d eaten out in a lovely restaurant with a few single women friends. Then she mentioned that Marshall was very appreciative that Lydia was looking into Claire’s death.

  “Why did you tell him
I had Lieutenant Molina’s ear?” Lydia asked, finally venting her annoyance.

  “Sorry, but Marshall was distraught and that was all I could think of to make him feel better.” When Lydia said nothing, Peg asked, “Why? Have you learned something?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Really? What?”

  Lydia frowned. Her neighbor was the biggest yenta in Twin Lakes. Lydia never should have alluded to knowing anything in the first place. Besides, the only information she had involved herbal capsules, and they might have nothing to do with either death.

  “Sorry, Peg, I’m not free to discuss it with you.”

  “Have you told Detective Molina?”

  “I will, once I have proof.”

  She was beginning to sound like an addled fool. Having Merry so close to the person who might be involved somehow with Claire’s death had upset her.

  “I have to go now. See you, Peg.”

  Peg grumbled about Lydia not finishing what she’d started to say and hung up.

  * * *

  Saturday morning Lydia caught an early train into Manhattan. The cars were filled with riders off from work and school, intent on getting a head start on their holiday gift-buying. Not one of them, Lydia mused, had any connection with Twin Lakes, where two women had died and suspicions ran rampant.

  She browsed in Lord & Taylor and Saks, buying cashmere sweater sets on sale—Chanukah gifts for Meredith and Abbie. She tried on stretch jeans and tops and bought three of each, as well as two warm-up suits. Her lifestyle was casual now. She had little use for the suits and silk blouses she used to wear to the office. Even now, on a visit to the city, she wore pants and a woolen poncho over a turtleneck sweater.

  Today Abbie was the first to arrive at the restaurant, the same one where they’d dined weeks earlier. She and Todd sat close to one another, heads touching as they laughed over a private joke. The sight filled Lydia with joy and sadness. She was delighted her daughter had found someone to love, but the young lovers were a keen reminder of all she’d lost when Izzy died.