The Decorator Who Knew Too Much

by Diane Vallere

“Would he come if you called him?”

  “If Hudson called him, maybe. Not me. He still associates me with my dog, and they aren’t the best of friends.”

  “Takes time with cats, especially ones who are used to living on their own. Mine’s had four years to get used to having a Pomeranian’s nose in her butt and she still hasn’t accepted it,” Buchanan said.

  We moved through the house in a group, though no doubt we were all looking for something different. I kept my eyes out for Mortiboy. With Hudson recovering in the hospital, the last thing he’d want to hear was that somehow I’d lost his cat.

  Emma moved Jimmy’s dishes into the dishwasher, hung the dish towel on the hook by the refrigerator, and tucked the bag of bagels into the cabinet. In the bathroom she moved the towel from over the shower curtain rod to the hook on the back of the door, and scooped up jeans, T-shirt, and men’s boxer shorts from a pile on the floor. She tossed the clothes into the open wicker hamper, only to be rewarded with an annoyed meow. We all peered in at Mortiboy, half buried under dirty garments.

  I reached in and lifted him out. He wriggled from my arms and jumped onto the floor, and then stalked out of the bathroom down the hallway into the kitchen. He lowered his head over the water bowl and lapped it up.

  “Mrs. McKenna, do you see anything out of the ordinary? Anything missing, moved?”

  “No. The house looks exactly as I left it.” She looked at me and I nodded.

  “It looks the same as it did this morning to me too except for the bagels, but Hudson was out getting them when I left.”

  “What time was that?”

  I shrugged and bounced the toe of my lilac sneaker against the linoleum floor. “Around nine, I think? I overslept this morning and got a late start.”

  Buchanan made a note. My cell phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Madison Night?” asked a female voice.

  “Yes, who is this?”

  “Lora. From the park. You left your name and number when you found a set of keys by the pier?” Her voice rose in a question as if to jog my memory.

  “Oh. Yes. Hi.” I said “excuse me” to Buchanan and Emma. “I’m sorry. We have a—a situation here. I don’t really care if anybody claimed those keys.”

  “I’m not calling about the keys.”

  “But you said—”

  “I’m calling about a little girl who says she knows you. Her name is Heather?”

  “Do you know where she is?” I asked.

  Both Buchanan and Emma turned to face me. Emma raced forward and put her hands on my arms. Her eyes were wide. “Where is she?” she asked. “Is she okay?”

  I held up my finger.

  “Lora, is Heather with you? Is she okay?”

  “She’s okay, but she’s scared. I don’t know how she got here. She said she was waiting for her mom to come pick her up. It’s time for me to close the gates, but I didn’t feel right leaving her here. I can bring her home if you give me the address.”

  I tipped my head back and closed my eyes. Relief washed over me. I dropped into a kitchen chair. “She’s at the park with one of the rangers,” I said to Emma.

  Emma snatched the phone from my hand. She put her left hand over her left ear and held the phone to her right. “Let me talk to her,” she said. “Heather? Honey, is that you?” After a slight pause, she dropped down, knees first, directly onto the kitchen floor. “I’ll be right there. I promise. I love you.” She hung up and grabbed her keys. “I’m going to the park,” she said.

  “I still think you and Heather should come to the motel and stay with me.” I said. “None of us should be alone. Not tonight.”

  Emma put up less of an argument than I might have if our positions were reversed, which only added to my suspicions there was more going on under the surface than I knew.

  “Sounds to me like this is a big mix-up,” Buchanan said. He smiled, as though everything had gone back to normal. But as we made our way back down the hallway, it occurred to me that Lora from Parks and Recreation might not be as uninvolved as she seemed.

  TWENTY

  Lora had been at the park the day I turned in the keys, but so had Benji. I had distinctly gotten the feeling that they knew one another. That had been the day Benji and his pals approached me in the quarry, and later that same day the body had been found. Was it possible that Lora, in her role as park ranger, helped orchestrate the murder by the river?

  I needed to talk things out. Twice Emma had claimed credit or blame for the events unfolding around us, but as far as I could see, there were other players. I was glad that Buchanan offered to take Emma to the park, but I suspected that even though he was acting in an unofficial manner, he wanted to make sure Heather was okay. None of us believed this was a communication mix-up. It had to do with the murder of Dr. Albert Hall. I didn’t believe Emma to be capable of murder, but I sensed there was more to her story than she’d told me.

  I stayed behind and packed after Emma and Buchanan left. The guest room looked bigger now that my turquoise Samsonite luggage was gone. Hudson, being of a generally neat disposition, had unpacked when we arrived. Aside from the suitcase in the corner, there was barely any evidence the room was in use.

  I retrieved Mortiboy from the hamper (he’d climbed back in) and eased him into his carrier. The clock ticked by while I sat in the living room, waiting for them to return. I stared at the screen of my phone for a few seconds, and then called the most recent number.

  “Lora, this is Madison Night.”

  “Hi. Emma and that policeman were just here.”

  “So Heather is okay?”

  “She’s okay. She’s better than okay. She’s a good kid.”

  “What can you tell me about this afternoon?”

  “The same thing I told Officer Buchanan, which is not much. I check the public restrooms at three o’clock every day. The park was empty when I went in, but when I came out, Heather was sitting at a picnic table doing her homework.”

  “Just like that? No signs of where she came from or who brought her?”

  “She was all alone. I kept an eye on her from a distance, but after about ten minutes something seemed off. I sat down with her and asked her how she got there.”

  “And?”

  “She said she got a message to meet her mom at the park. It’s only a couple of blocks from the school so she walked.”

  “Who gave her this message?”

  “I don’t know. Somebody at the school, I think.”

  Emma was going to be furious. I would be. And the more I thought about it, the more suspicious it all became. I didn’t trust Lora, but then again, if she wasn’t to be trusted, why had she called and told us Heather was there? Why was she showing no signs of fear at talking to the police?

  “Lora, there was a man at the park the day I dropped off the keys. Tall and thin. I got the feeling you knew him.”

  “A lot of people come through the park.”

  “This one was different. After I left you, I went to the quarry and he threatened me.”

  “Did you tell the police?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sure they’ll take care of it.”

  “Why did you call me?” I asked suddenly. “Why not Heather’s mom? Heather must know the number.”

  “I tried to call her mom, but there was no answer. I asked Heather if she had any other family or if there was someone else I could call and she said you. I remembered that you left your phone number here. I wish I could help more,” Lora said.

  My phone beeped with an incoming call. It was Emma. “I have another call coming in. Are you sure there’s nothing else you want to tell me?” I asked. She was silent. “I have to go.”

  Emma’s call was brief. Heather was okay and they were on their way to the Tiki Trop
ics. I promised to pack pajamas for everyone and meet them in a few minutes. I was in the process of dragging suitcases and animals out of the house when Jo pulled into her driveway.

  She came over to help. “What happened today? Emma sounded hysterical on the phone.”

  “She was.” Considering my suspicions about the day’s events, I didn’t think it was my place to put Emma’s parenting skills in a poor light. “There was a mix-up at the school and Heather ended up waiting for her in the wrong place.”

  “But she’s okay now?”

  “She is. Emma and Heather are meeting me at the Tiki motel.”

  “What about the guys?”

  “Long story.” I smiled. “You haven’t seen any strangers in the neighborhood recently, have you?”

  “The only strangers are you and Hudson. Why?”

  “Just curious.”

  “I doubt I’d be any help even if there were. When I’m at home, I tend to be in the zone. The studio,” she added by way of explanation. “The orchestra gave me a new arrangement. Once I get Gina started on her homework I put on the headphones and listen to it on repeat. It’s my way of feeling the music. Everybody has their process. That’s mine.” She studied me. “You and Hudson aren’t leaving soon, are you?”

  “No. Why?”

  “I’ll try to get the four of you tickets to the concert.”

  “Sounds great.”

  We fit the suitcases into the trunk of the car and I eased Mortiboy’s carrier onto the backseat. Jo scooped up Rocky and stroked his fur. “This hasn’t been a particularly relaxing trip for you, has it?” Jo asked me.

  “It’s been an unusual couple of days,” I said. I took Rocky and set him on the front seat. “If you don’t have any plans tonight, you and Gina should join us for a girls’ night in at the motel.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got a real rehearsal tonight. Too bad. It sounds like fun.”

  I drove to the motel. Emma and Heather were waiting for me in the lobby when I arrived. Heather was dressed in her school clothes: a pink top featuring Jem and the Holograms, jeans, and formerly white sneakers that were coated with a layer of dry dirt. Her fair blonde hair was in ponytails that were slightly lopsided. She looked up at me with wide eyes and I stooped down and hugged her. When she let go, I handed Rocky’s leash over to her and carried Mortiboy’s carrier myself.

  The room was on the second floor. When we were inside, I let Mortiboy out of his cage and then unclipped Rocky’s leash. He ran to the bed and yapped at Mortiboy. Heather smiled. Emma changed into her pajamas while I went to the bathroom and took my turn in the shower. When I was done, I found Rocky, Mortiboy, and Heather playing on the bed.

  “You had a big day today, didn’t you?” I asked Heather.

  She ran her open hand over Rocky’s fur and nodded. “I wasn’t scared,” she said bravely, though her otherwise quiet disposition spoke otherwise. “The ranger lady kept me company.”

  “That was nice of her. What did you talk about?”

  “She asked me if I had any brothers or sisters. She has a big brother. She said I was lucky that I didn’t.”

  I laughed. “A lot of people feel that way.”

  “Uncle Hudson is my mom’s brother and she doesn’t feel that way,” she said.

  “That’s true, but your Uncle Hudson is one in a million.”

  “A million is a lot,” she said after careful consideration. “If those are the odds then I guess I am lucky.”

  I left Heather on the bed with the animals and joined Emma on the balcony. She held an almost empty glass of wine. I poured one for myself and refilled hers. We stood side by side and looked down at the pool. Only a few people remained on the deck, absorbing the last rays of the hot sun. The air was a mixture of coconuts and chlorine. As a lifelong devotee of sunscreen SPF 50+, I could never smell the scent of coconuts and not think of the kind of deeply bronzed skin I’d never once had the abandon to pursue. Emma was attentive to Heather in a way that spoke volumes about her earlier fears. Eventually she joined me on the balcony. “I put my daughter’s life at risk. I don’t know how it got to this.”

  “Heather’s going to be okay now, but how are you?”

  “Shaken up,” she said. She set her glass down and stared out at the palm trees surrounding the pool in front of us.

  “Am I a bad wife because I didn’t ask to spend the night at the hospital?” she asked.

  “If Jimmy is on painkillers, he probably wouldn’t even know if you were there.”

  “What have I done to my life?” she asked quietly. “I broke my marriage vows and put Heather in danger, for what?” Tears trickled out of her eyes and down her cheeks. She swiped them away and patted her fingertips on her jeans.

  “You’re here, taking care of Heather now. Jimmy would appreciate that. Do you want to talk about how it all started?” I asked softly.

  She pulled her feet up under her. “It sounds like such a cliché. Married woman has an affair with her therapist. But it wasn’t like that. I didn’t even know he was a doctor when we met.”

  “How did you meet?”

  “At the antique marketplace. I was looking for some baskets for the house, you know, Moroccan style. I saw the idea in a magazine. I thought maybe if I redecorated, made the house more exotic, it would be, I don’t know, a change. Jimmy and I were in a rut. It’s not like we could take off for a vacation, not with Heather in school.” We turned around and looked in the room at Heather. She held Mortiboy on her lap while Rocky looked on from a foot away. It was unclear how she’d gotten Mortiboy to accept such human-to-cat affection. I’d certainly never broken through to that level. “So I got this crazy idea I could redecorate. Maybe we’d do it together and it would give us something to focus on.”

  “How did a plan to bring your family closer together lead to your affair?” I asked.

  Emma laughed. “You don’t do this girlfriends-sharing-secrets thing very often, do you?” she asked. As horrified as I was, it seemed my inappropriate question had shattered some kind of barrier between us. Emma relaxed noticeably.

  She was right. I didn’t have a lot of experience with the girlfriend conversation thing. When the rug had been pulled out from underneath the relationship I’d been in before fleeing to Texas, I questioned everything I’d thought was real. My own circle of friends was scattered around the country: Susan, the film distributor in Hollywood who helped me obtain movie prints for the theater where I volunteered; Joannie, the owner of Joannie Loves Tchotchkes, a thrift shop in Lakewood who often beat me to estate sales and then profited when she sold me items of interest; and Connie, half of a hipster couple who had hired me to redecorate their kitchen. I almost laughed out loud when I thought of former police officer Donna Nast. She was the anti-me in so many ways, yet thanks to horrific circumstances, we’d been forced to put our differences aside and cooperate with each other.

  Nasty and I would never be friends. Emma and I could.

  “Okay, do-over. Tell me about how it started.”

  She smiled and stared off at a vague spot above the pool. “Albert was at the booth with the baskets too. I picked out a few that I liked, but didn’t think about how I was going to get them to the car. He offered to help me, so I went a little crazy and bought a bunch. We probably looked pretty funny, balancing stacks of these woven baskets on our heads.” She held her hands up to the space on either side of her head, and then laughed at the memory. “It was the easiest way to carry them. It wasn’t until we filled both of our cars that I noticed his white shirt was stained with some kind of clay-colored dirt. I offered to pay for the dry cleaning but he said no, it would come clean with soap and water. He followed me home with his car full of baskets and that was supposed to be that.”

  “Where was Jimmy?”

  “Out at the quarry, not that it mattered. Albert helped me with the baskets and
asked if he could use my bathroom to try to clean his shirt. When he came out, it was wet and the stain was worse. I offered to run it through the washing machine.”

  “So that’s when it started?”

  “No, it wasn’t like that. He followed me home, I washed his shirt, and he left. When we said goodbye, he said he hoped he’d run into me again sometime and wished me luck with the redecorating. It was totally innocent.”

  I refilled both of our glasses, Emma’s a little more than mine. I wanted her to keep talking, and I wanted to remember everything she said. Nothing I knew connected back to what had happened to Hudson and Jimmy, but it connected to Albert Hall, and that was enough. I didn’t believe much in coincidence. Not anymore.

  Emma picked up her glass and took a sizeable swallow. She set it down again and then ran both of her hands through her hair, pulling it back off her face and into a makeshift ponytail. “A strange man helped me out. It should have stopped there. But I liked the attention. I liked that he flirted with me at the antique fair. I told myself I was doing nothing wrong because I’d told him about Jimmy and Heather right away. But I went back to the fair the next week hoping to see him. I even dressed up a little bit. One of those full-skirted dresses like you wear and sandals that laced up my legs.”

  “Was he there?”

  She nodded. “Same booth. The Moroccan baskets. He said he hadn’t had a chance to buy what he wanted because he’d left early to help me. I said it was only right for me to help him this time, and that’s how we ended up back at his place.”

  It was my turn to nod. Another woman might have told Emma when she got married, she made a promise not to act on those feelings, but I wouldn’t. My own romantic history included a married man. Had he been there for me after he confessed, after I skied away from him and gotten into the accident that permanently injured my knee, had he indicated he still wanted me in his life, I knew I would have agreed. Nothing about that memory was good: not what had happened, not what I’d learned about myself when it happened, not how I’d grown as a person after it was over. But no matter what, I lived with the knowledge that I’d once been open to love, and after Brad, I’d been forever changed. Years had passed and I was only starting to accept romance back into my life. Whatever was between Emma and Jimmy was something nobody else would fully understand, but it wasn’t my place to judge.