Ronnie felt a chill down her back. She figured that for good news, for it guaranteed a few weeks where Dwayne would not have the opportunity to procreate.
Voices from the living room where they had sat with Allayne earlier, filtered down the hall to the foyer. Ronnie heard Lorraine’s distinct wail, coupled with Danny’s comforting, if not strained, pleas. A third voice, female and quick, discussed a plan of attack for the media only to be interrupted by a resounding “No! No press until I say so.”
Another male voice broke the short silence after that, urging everybody to remain calm.
Ronnie nearly stopped halfway down the hall, tempted to dive into the adjacent half-bathroom to her right. Of course Lew would still be inside with the family! What else would he be doing right now? No wonder Dwayne was so accommodating to her; he was probably tempted himself to edge closer for a better view of potential fireworks.
They found Lew and Danny sitting facing each other on the sofa, elbows on knees and heads bent together in deep conversation. Lorraine huddled in one corner sobbing, fending off the comforting hand of a stout woman with wire-rimmed glasses and short hair colored a bright magenta.
“Laney, Laney…” Lorraine snorted and sniffled through a reddened, bulbous nose and waved off the tissue offered to her. “Oh, God, she’s gone…”
Ronnie watched the grieving woman lean to the left and spot her and Gina. Lorraine broke free of the other woman’s grasp and rushed over to deliver one sweeping, bone-crushing group hug. “Oh, thank God you two are here!”
There was no mistaking the look of annoyance on Lew’s face as he turned in his seat to watch the scene. Ronnie thought she heard a heavy sigh as the sofa groaned underneath him. Clearly he could hold a grudge, and no doubt their presence at Two Witt was now unwanted.
Gina managed to wriggle free and cautiously wrapped an arm around the sobbing woman’s shoulder. Lorraine dampened Gina’s white blouse with tears and drool. “Mrs. Witz,” Gina said, “we’re very sorry to hear what happened. Whatever you need from us, name it.”
My sister, the diplomat, Ronnie thought. She obliged with a gentle pat on Lorraine’s back just as Lew approached.
“How did it happen?” she asked Lew, Allayne’s words of impending danger still fresh in her mind.
The question, as she had hoped, caught him off guard. Whatever condescending or demanding words he had for the sisters went unsaid as he turned back to Danny and the mystery woman. “Well, it would appear Ms. Witt died in her sleep,” he said. “That will be the official word, for now.” He glared pointedly at them and Ronnie could read his thoughts: Keep quiet about this.
Danny brought the unnamed woman over to the group. “Ladies, I don’t believe you’ve met Nora Daily. She is the founder and president of Allayne’s official fan club. She has been staying here as well for the past few days while Allayne was in town.”
Gina and Ronnie murmured their hellos and shook hands with the disinterested Nora Daily. Ronnie found it odd neither Lorraine nor Allayne had mentioned their other guest during their previous visit, but she could clearly see in the woman’s gray eyes that she did not appreciate being usurped by two strangers as Lorraine’s primary consoler. Suspicions were confirmed when Nora’s mouth opened and a voice sounding too feminine for the body that contained it spoke.
“You are aware Allayne had been very ill,” she began. “Cancer.”
“She had cancer,” Ronnie broke in, ignoring Nora’s hostile glance. “That is, she had cancer and beat it. I was under the impression Allayne was well on the road to a full recovery. She seemed upbeat when we were here this afternoon. That’s why I find this whole thing shocking.”
“We are all greatly saddened by Allayne’s passing, but she was not one to allow people to worry about her. It’s entirely possible she was sicker that she let on. Even I didn’t know the extent of her illness,” Danny offered grimly. “I wouldn’t have put it past her to keep mum, she might have been worried Southwest Memorial wouldn’t renew her contract. You know, none of us knew she had even been diagnosed until a few days before her mastectomy.”
Lorraine erupted with fresh, anguished sobs, and Gina gently steered her away toward the hall. “I think Mrs. Witz needs to lie down.” To Lorraine, she added, “Hon, why don’t I take you up to your room?”
“Yes,” Lorraine whispered, her voice calmer. “That would be nice.” She let Gina awkwardly guide her by the shoulders down the hallway out of sight. Ronnie sensed the tension in the living room lift to the ceiling and dissolve, through the quartet left behind continued to stare blankly at each other.
Nora eventually broke the silence. “Anyway, we are going to be busy taking care of Allayne’s funeral and shivah. It’s obvious Lorraine is in no condition to handle any plans of that sort.” She thrust her hands into her front jeans pockets and rocked back on her sandals. Ronnie took the young woman’s body language as a cue to mean she was neither needed nor wanted, although she had no intention of going anywhere until Gina returned.
“Allayne’s going to have a shivah?” Ronnie wondered aloud. “When we were here earlier she had said—”
“It’s what Lorraine would want, and I’m sure Allayne would want it, too,” Nora interrupted. “I also think, for Lorraine’s sake, it should be a private affair. Family and close friends and associates only.”
Ronnie had no trouble guessing that remark was aimed at her; apparently anybody not within Nora Daily’s immediate circle of acknowledgment would not be on the guest list.
“Well, good luck keeping the fans away,” Ronnie said. “Allayne has quite a few around here, but with you being her fan club president and all, I don’t have to tell you that.”
“We will arrange for a public memorial service, yes. Later.” Ronnie relished the look of annoyance on Nora’s face. “I certainly will not cheat Allayne’s loyal fan base out of a proper goodbye. But first things first.”
Ronnie turned to Danny. “My family would be happy to assist you with anything you have planned. Though we’ve not always been in touch, we’ve known the family for years, and I know my grandmother will at least have a Mass said for Allayne.”
Danny’s smile was genuine. “That’s nice of you to offer, Mrs. Lord, but I’m sure your family is busy enough with that St. Lorena business. That is your family, right? I thought Allayne had said something earlier today.”
“The few, the good, the pious,” Lew cracked. Ronnie resisted a fleeting urge to push past Danny and smack the sheriff squarely on his stubbled face. Instead she took a step backward, wincing as the heel of her shoe squeaked across the marble tile floor.
“Anyway,” Danny said with a deep sigh, “I suspect word of this will leak soon regardless of our efforts. I do want to make some phone calls before the press beats down the door. The people over at Southwest Memorial should not have to hear about Allayne’s death from Entertainment Tonight.”
Ronnie noticed Danny bristle and clasp his hands into a large fist as Nora produced a cell phone from her back pocket and punched in a long sequence of numbers. “I’m way ahead of you,” she said as the device purred in her ear. She loped back into a corner of the sitting room for privacy.
Lew moved closer and looped an arm around Ronnie’s elbow. “We won’t keep you any longer, Mr. Cushing,” he said. “You have my card if you need to contact me. I’ll see Mrs. Lord out.”
With a forceful tug, Lew had Ronnie trailing out the door behind him before she could manage a proper goodbye.
She was grateful, at least, that Lew did not steer her towards his two smirking deputies, both of whom watched the trek to Ronnie’s car. Save for the security lamps lining the stone walkway to the house, it was now completely dark. The strobes on the cruisers had been turned off and, with the ambulance long gone, there were no flashing red and white lights to follow back to the main road. The porch light and lights from inside the house had also dimmed. Ronnie wondered for a moment how she was going to get the Firebird off the property withou
t taking a wrong turn and plowing into somebody’s cattle herd.
A constricting sensation around her right arm alerted her to Lew’s lingering presence. She jerked her arm free. “I left Gina in there,” she hissed, her voice low and sharp. “Let me back in there to get her.”
“She’s a smart girl, she’ll know where to find you.” Lew shifted his hands to his hips and scowled down at her. “Do I have to ask what the hell you two were doing here in the first place?”
“Lorraine Witz asked us to come over, I told you. She was crying and hysterical and screaming something about Allayne being dead. How could we just ignore that?” Ronnie cried. “We didn’t know she wasn’t alone, and we didn’t know you were here, either. We just wanted to help. We left so fast I even forgot to pay Loni—”
“Loni?” Lew cried in surprise. “You were at the deli?” When Ronnie nodded, Lew bowed his head and massaged the bridge of his nose. “Well, hell, Ronnie. You probably don’t have to worry about your delinquent dinner bill. You paid Loni with a priceless bit of gossip that’s probably been posted on the Internet since you arrived. So much for Allayne’s camp wanting to break the news gradually.”
Lew made a fist as if to punch to roof of the Firebird, but instead just relaxed his fingers. Ronnie imagined the palm of his hand was red with half-moon indentations. Clearly he was annoyed with her, though any spread of gossip could not wholly be attributed to her. Loni had known something before she received Lorraine’s call, but Ronnie elected to remain quiet about that. There was no point to have two women chewed out by the sheriff.
“Hey,” she said, “I know Loni can be loose-lipped at times, but…”
“At times?” Lew exploded. “You were ready to stuff her in the dairy case when you found out she had broadcast Lorena’s disappearance last year.”
Lew, of course, was exaggerating. If anything, Ronnie had been grateful for Loni’s gossiping tongue that day. She might not have learned of Lorena’s disappearance until much later otherwise.
However, she had no intention of correcting Lew’s memory, either. He looked angry enough to stuff her in a dairy case and turn up the cold.
Such a change from a few months ago, when it appeared he would never leave her side.
“Loni doesn’t know anything else about Allayne’s death, I promise you.” Ronnie tried to sound soothing, but her dry voice cracked and she coughed as a cloud of dust sprayed them from the retreating tires of Dwayne’s cruiser. “I mean, give us some credit, okay? You know Gina and I wouldn’t do something so irresponsible as blurt out something like that in public, especially if it can’t be confirmed.”
She thought a moment, worried now. Had she said something aloud at the deli? Had Gina? It seemed days ago since the call came on her cell.
“Whatever.” Lew sighed. “Look, just get your sister and get on home. There’s nothing anybody else can do right now. Give Mrs. Witz some time to herself to mourn, and I’m sure she’ll call you again if she wants.” He cast a glance back at the house. Inside Nora chatted on her phone, drawing the curtains with a stony glare out the window.
“No problem. I’ll assume you’ll want to perform an autopsy on Allayne before anybody can plan a funeral.”
Lew turned sharply back towards Ronnie. “Why do you assume that?”
Ronnie stepped back into her car, catching her hip on the passenger side mirror. “Well, uh, why else would you be here? Why call the police if everybody thinks Allayne’s death is not suspicious?”
“We heard the call for the ambulance on dispatch, that’s why we came. We figured we should check it out since Allayne’s a public figure. What makes you think Allayne’s death is suspicious?” Lew arched an eyebrow.
“No reason,” Ronnie said quickly, Allayne’s worried face floating before her.
Lew shook his head. “Well, for one, I think Jewish law forbids autopsies, so I’d have to find the Witzes’ rabbi to get permission for that. Yeah, I heard Allayne wasn’t observant, but still. Mrs. Witz might want to confer with somebody. Anyway,” he added, “by the time I got here I remembered Allayne had been sick, and it looked like there was no foul play—”
“So you won’t be investigating,” Ronnie finished.
“There’s nothing to investigate, Ron. I’m sorry Allayne’s dead, I liked her as a person and I’m sure she was a good actress, but I can’t do anything about it. Go home,” Lew said with a sigh. “Get Gina and take her home to her boys. Ronnie…” He paused.
“Yes?” Ronnie felt her heart expand.
“How’s the new place?”
“Oh,” her face fell, “it’s fine. It’s a great place. Everything’s almost moved in, I just need to find places to put all of it.”
I’d like to have you over one night. I’d like for you to tell me that you’d like for me to invite you over.
Lew nodded. “Good. I’m glad to hear you didn’t have any trouble moving.”
He looked as if he wanted to say more, and Ronnie waited as she watched his eyes flicker up to his forehead, contemplating words unspoken.
Say something, Lew, damn it.
Shut up, Ronnie told herself.
Finally Lew bade her a quiet goodnight, turned on his thick boot heel, and crunched toward his cruiser. Ronnie, tempted as she was to counter the sheriff’s parting remark, instead backtracked to the house to collect Gina.
“He is so impossible!” Ronnie muttered as she marched up the steps and opened the front door without knocking.
She sighed. So am I.
She met Nora’s surprised glare with an irritated one.
“I came to get my sister.”
Nora clamped her hand over her cell phone and crooked her neck toward the hallway. “Last I saw she was taking Lorraine to her room. Last door on the right. I hope she didn’t get lost coming back.”
You mean you hope she’s not pawing through the spare rooms looking for trinkets to sell on eBay. “Thanks.”
The hallway was dim, its eggshell white walls spotted with framed photographs of Allayne with her Southwest Memorial co-stars and other assorted celebrities. Ronnie recognized a few, but was too tired and too distraught to be impressed. The second to last door on the left, catty-corner from Lorraine’s room, was ajar, and as Lonnie passed she caught a reddened eye underneath a frightened brow staring back at her.
The girl who brought the tray of lemonade. Dakota.
Loni had a friend named Alice whose daughter Chloe was a good friend of this girl named Dakota who…
The door shut before Ronnie could say anything. She turned slightly, but Lorraine’s door had opened and Gina was hissing at her.
“Get in here!” Gina waved her closer.
Ronnie stepped cautiously into Lorraine’s bedroom, a grand spread nearly the size of Ronnie’s modest living room and guest bedroom combined. Canary yellow wallpaper with white wainscoting surrounded gleaming white furniture, and Ronnie’s eyes were drawn immediately to Lorraine’s own personal Wall of Fame at the far end, near an open door that revealed part of a very large private bathroom.
“Sorry, I had to get away from Lew. You know, I can see why you and he didn’t last long in college, he is such a horse’s ass,” Ronnie seethed, then looked at her sister’s worried face. “What?”
Gina nodded to one side. Lorraine was curled atop the floral print comforter of her king-sized bed, still wearing her low-heeled sandals, sniffling and sobbing. Intermittently the word “Laney” escaped her lips.
“You seem to have calmed her down,” Ronnie noted.
“I found some Tylenol PM in her medicine cabinet and made her take two. I was just about to leave but she wants to talk to you, too.” Gina folded her arms and stared out the room’s only window. The night in Two Witt’s backyard was pitch; no paparazzi lurked in the grass.
Ronnie could tell Gina already knew what Lorraine had planned to say. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on,” she said. “It might make more sense coming from you.”
There
came instead a voice from the bed. “Is that Veronica?” Lorraine garbled into her pillow.
“I’m here, Mrs. Witz.”
Lorraine rolled onto her back and lowered her swollen feet to the carpet, rocking with enough force to propel herself from the bed unaided. “I have something for you…”
Ronnie and Gina approached to guide the woman back to bed. “Mrs. Witz, whatever you have to say or do can wait for another day,” Ronnie said. “What’s important now is that you rest.”
“No.” Lorraine’s voice took on its normal tone. “No, this is important right now. I need your help.”
“I told Allayne’s agent that I’d be happy to do anything to help with the funeral services, but he said—”
“I don’t give a damn about that right now, Veronica. I want to you help me nail the creep who killed my Laney.”
Mystery Bundle (Saints Preserve Us, Pray For Us Sinners, Murder Most Trivial) Page 26