The Reunion

by Suzanne Rossi

  “Did she agree to change rooms?” Meghan asked.

  He shook his head. “Told me to eat shit, and go to hell.”

  “Is she drunk?” Zach quizzed.

  “A little, but not enough to worry about. The bartender said she’s been drinking cranberry juice, and just now switched back to the real thing.”

  “Sounds like Suzanne had a good plan. Get Dave loaded, and ask him questions all the while keeping her head above water,” Meghan replied.

  “What questions?” Ray wanted to know.

  Zach explained what he’d requested of Suzanne and the information she’d uncovered.

  “Dave found Mrs. Peterson?” Ray’s eyebrows furrowed into a scowl. “I think I need to have another talk with Mr. Coryell.”

  “You might want to include Dan Masterson again,” Meghan added, and then told him what Gary and Ruth had said.

  “You two are just full of good news.” Ray shook his head. “Why was Dave in the parking lot?”

  “According to Suzanne, he has a stash of cocaine hidden in the car,” Zach informed him.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. Now, I really have to talk to him and get a warrant to search his car. I guess there’s something in this business of people talking to you instead of the law. Call me if you unearth any more information.”

  Ray rattled off his cell phone number. Meghan scrambled to find a pen in her purse and grabbed a cocktail napkin.

  “Can you repeat that?”

  To her surprise, Zach repeated it correctly. She gazed at him as did Ray.

  “Sorry, I have numerical total recall.”

  “Remind me not to say anything incriminating around you,” she murmured.

  Zach grinned. “It only applies to numbers.”

  “Just be careful,” Ray warned again, and then left.

  As he passed the corner table, Eileen rose and walked toward them. “May I sit with you for a moment?”

  Meghan nodded. “Of course. How are you feeling?”

  “Much better. It was all so—so gruesome. I wanted to thank you for what you did for me out on the terrace. You handled it very well.”

  “I’m sure if the positions had been reversed, you’d have done the same.” She glanced at Zach who nodded. Time to start questioning again. “Eileen, who was with you on the terrace—before you went into the garden, I mean?”

  “Gosh, there were several people just standing around, but I talked to my husband, Carl, of course, and Jack and Mary Samuels. Carol Rutherford was there, too, along with her date. I can’t remember his name—Allen? Adam?” Eileen paused and wrinkled her forehead.

  “Anyone else?” she urged.

  “Betty Coleman and her husband—don’t know his last name. It seems to me Ruth Whisnett came out, and someone rushed up the steps and into the ballroom.” She caught her breath with a gasp. “Oh, my God, could it have been the killer? Would he dare make such a public entrance?”

  “I don’t know.” So, Eileen corroborated Ruth’s information regarding someone rushing onto the terrace from the garden. Dan? “Who was it?”

  “I don’t know. My back was to the steps and the other side of the terrace. I never noticed. Do you think I should tell the sheriff?”

  “I doubt that’s necessary,” Zach answered with a smile. “As you said, the killer wouldn’t return with such a flourish.”

  Eileen rose. “Well, I guess I should be thinking about going home, although I’m sure I won’t sleep a wink. Thanks again, Meghan.”

  Eileen returned to the table in the corner. Meghan mulled the information over in her mind. Robbery or something deeper? Mistaken identity or…

  “Zach, what if Annabelle was the target after all?”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “Maybe Eric is the good actor. For all we know, the marriage might have been in trouble.”

  “And he used the dress angle as a cover-up? Men don’t think that way.” Zach shook his head. “Besides, how would he know about the dress beforehand?”

  “It could have been a pleasant co-incidence for him.”

  “No, your theory is off base. Suzanne was the target.”

  “Never discard a theory.”

  Am I over-analyzing this?

  Her mind slipped back twenty years. Tami, Eddie, Dave, and Suzanne had had things pretty much their way. Whenever questioned about their escapades, they all lied like rugs to get out of it—especially Tami.

  She lied with the most angelic look on her face I’ve ever seen.

  And God only knew the football coach would never do a damned thing to jeopardize his team, so Eddie and Dave got off without so much as detention.

  Maybe this isn’t about robbery at all. Maybe it’s about revenge. Revenge for something that happened in high school. Then a more chilling thought sprang to mind. No, it couldn’t be.

  “Zach?” she said with a wavering voice.

  He looked at her sharply. “What’s the matter?”

  “Zach, what if…” She paused and captured her lower lip between her teeth.

  “What if what?”

  “What if we were right?”

  “About what?” he asked, a touch of impatience in this tone.

  “What if Tami and Eddie’s deaths are linked? What if Suzanne was meant to be number three?”

  Chapter Nine

  Her suggestion intrigued him. “What? You mean that nonsense about a killer working her way through the cheerleaders and the ninety-seven pound weakling stuff?”

  Meghan shrugged, her eyes downcast into her empty glass. She rattled the remaining ice.

  “Who holds a twenty year grudge? And for what purpose?” Mystery writer or not, he thought Meghan was reaching on this.

  “I don’t know, but think back to all the shit they pulled in high school, Tami especially. She got away with murder.” She winced. “Sorry, bad choice of words, but maybe it took twenty years for the anger and resentment to surface. Think about it. Remember how it was? Eddie gut punched you for not doing what he wanted. How many other people did he victimize?”

  Zach cast him mind back to those days. It had taken a long time to come to terms with the name calling during high school. He and Meghan had both been victims of bullying. He mentally added the names of other kids he knew to the list before answering.

  “I think Tami and Eddie enjoyed making others miserable. She was sly, but intelligent enough when it suited her. In spite of his athletic prowess, Eddie Mancuso was a lightweight in the academic field. I remember Bob Ellis had to tutor him in history.”

  “Sharon Crawley did the same in English. Said he never did get the difference between a subject and a predicate,” Meghan added rolling her eyes.

  “And for all her self-centered ways, Suzanne was a follower. I suspect Tami and Dave were the instigators of the group.”

  She leaned her elbow on the table and cupped her chin in her hand. “Dave was more into practical jokes than physical abuse. Remember when he super-glued the combination dials on all the freshman lockers? And wasn’t he the one who drilled a peephole into the girls shower in the gym?”

  “A few people were embarrassed, but as I recall none of those incidents are a blueprint for revenge, especially murder,” Zach replied.

  “Someone could have snapped, discovered where Tami and Eddie lived, killed them, and then shown up here as a waiter or even a guest at the hotel, but not connected to the reunion. Someone no one would recognize—like us.”

  What she said could fly. How many other geeks and fat girls had the group victimized?

  “So, he dons a waiter’s outfit or a suit and tie, slips into the ballroom, follows who he thinks is Suzanne, and accidentally kills Annabelle? That’s far-fetched.”

  “Humiliation can fester for years. If Eddie dealt out physical abuse, then Tami was queen of the verbal. She had the tongue of an adder. Her words hurt. I was often called ‘lard-ass,’ ‘Beulah,’ and ‘Massive Meghan.’ I tried not to let it bother me, but sometimes I’d close t
he stall door in the restroom and cry.”

  She swallowed what he suspected was a lump in her throat. Even now, those memories hurt.

  Zach grasped her hand and brought it to his lips for a light kiss.

  “I’m sorry. I was the ‘geek,’ ‘nerd,’ and ‘beanpole.’ I also took my fair share of pushing and shoving in the halls and locker room.”

  Meghan smiled and squeezed his hand before continuing. “The little bitch was sneaky, too. She once stole Helen Towne’s book report, and presented it to the teacher as her work. When Helen pointed the finger and provided proof, the teacher gave Tami an ‘F.’ Tami got even by damn near running the poor girl down. Helen said Tami laughed and called her a name before driving off.”

  Zach drummed his fingers on the table and thought. Suppose Meghan was right. Had the four classmates pulled a prank or insulted someone enough to foster murder?

  “I’m still not convinced, but it’s an avenue we should investigate.”

  “It means Dave—and especially Suzanne—are still in danger.”

  “Yes, but why kill Tami in Los Angeles, Eddie in Texas, and wait for the reunion to take a shot at the other two? Why use the reunion at all? Knock them off one by one and no one suspects they’re connected.”

  The whole thing had no logic and Zach’s entire life and fortune were based in logic.

  “I don’t know. Maybe it was hard for the killer to get to everyone on an individual basis. It could be a money or a time issue. The killer probably has a family and a job. Taking a personal day or two off to commit murder might lead to questions by a spouse or a boss.”

  Zach’s gaze traveled to Eileen and her friends at the corner table. Eileen had been in charge of finding lost classmates and issuing the invitations. What had Glory said earlier? Something about the police in California and Texas notifying Eileen about the deaths?

  “Meg, talk to Eileen again. Find out if Tami and Eddie had RSVP’d for the reunion. If they didn’t plan on attending, then the killer may have had to travel.”

  “And if Dave and Suzanne had accepted the invitation they’d be here, then all the killer had to do was wait.” She glanced at Eileen’s table. “I count five women. Bob Harris and three other guys are over there along the wall. I’ll do the women, you take the men.”

  “Good idea. Order everyone another drink.”

  “I think the nostalgia method will work best,” she commented.

  “The nostalgia method?”

  “Yeah, ask about families first, and then bring up the ‘do you remember’ stuff? We might learn more about who had a serious grudge against the four of them. Do we warn Dave and Suzanne?”

  “Let’s see what we uncover first. Ray’s already talked with Suzanne. Dave looks like he can take care of himself.”

  “But Dave is drunk on his ass, and according to Suzanne, lit up from cocaine. His judgment is impaired.”

  “Good point. Should I try to find and warn him?”

  “If Dave was that wasted, he’s no doubt passed out in bed by now,” she replied. “Plus, you just brushed Suzanne off. I’m not sure she’d take any warning from you with style and grace.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  Zach gazed at the redhead on the bar stool. She was lovely, always had been, but the only emotion she stirred in him was amusement, although he doubted Suzanne would appreciate the knowledge. Her actions were so obvious—no subtlety at all.

  He turned his head toward Meghan, who wiped the condensation from her glass, a frown on her face. Now, here was a woman of substance—successful, intelligent, and strong. That was a true turn on. Yet, he sensed vulnerability. He’d watched from across the lobby when she’d hesitated before entering the ballroom as if her confidence had suddenly vanished. He understood confronting past demons.

  His hand stilled her fingers. “I guess we should take a crack at our former classmates.”

  Meghan nodded, pushing back her chair. “I guess. Meet you in the lobby.”

  She stood and walked over to Eileen’s table. He waited a few seconds, rose, and sauntered toward the men.

  ****

  Suzanne alternately sipped her cosmo and glared at Zach and Meghan. It had been a long time since she’d been rebuffed. And by Zachary Dunbar of all people—the class brainiac and dweeb! She could take that, but being told her charms were lost on Zachary Dunbar, millionaire, really rankled. Am I losing my touch? She drained her glass and ordered another.

  At least Dave wasn’t around. She wondered how long he’d waited. Not even Dave Coryell, drunk as a lord, could believe a woman would hang out in the john for almost a half an hour.

  The bartender set a fresh drink in front of her. It was nearly one o’clock and the bar would soon close.

  This whole evening had been a waste of time and energy. If she’d been smart, she’d have told Dave to go shove the whole reunion up his ass, but n-o-o-o-o, she had agreed to attend in the hope Tami would show. Now, she was involved up to her ears in a murder, and that damned sheriff had learned about her run-ins with Annabelle and Glory. She bet Zach and Meghan had also told him about her conversation with Dave. Who cares? Let the bastard explain it to the law. I’ve done my civic duty for the night.

  She sipped her drink and ran a fingertip around the rim of the glass. The sheriff’s attempts to warn her of further danger may have been ham-handed and less than subtle, but he got his message across. A determined thief could make a second grab for the jewels. Maybe she should consider changing rooms for the night. If nothing else, Dave wouldn’t be able to find her.

  She sipped again and suppressed a shiver. Second doubts pummeled her. What if Dave was the killer? Had he really been that pissed at her? Pissed enough to kill? Ordinarily, she’d have said no, but his circumstances were anything but ordinary. Between his ex-wife draining his bank account and lousy business decisions, he’d stretched the financial rubber band as far as it would go. When it finally snapped, the twang would reverberate throughout Chicago.

  Maybe he only meant to scare me. Maybe the whole thing boomeranged when Annabelle died. It was an accident. Sometimes things get out of hand. She shivered and remembered events from long ago. No, don’t go there. Don’t think about it.

  Suzanne bit her lip. So, she’d pissed off Dave. So what? She’d pissed off several people tonight—Annabelle, Glory, Dan, and Lord only knew who else. She and Meghan had been dueling in an undertone she’d rather enjoyed. Suzanne didn’t remember Meghan as having had the verbal ability to spar in the big leagues. And Zach hadn’t seemed pissed—just bored and disinterested. Damn him.

  She sipped and wished she could light up a cigarette. God knows she needed one. The last couple of hours had not been the best of her life.

  Suzanne sighed. If someone wanted to kill her, they’d have done so in high school. The four of them had hacked off more than their fair share of people back then. She raised her glass and stopped with it halfway to her mouth when a sudden thought flashed through her mind.

  No, that’s not possible. Is it? Could someone be after all four of them—she, Tami, Eddie, and Dave?

  “Oh, my God, who did we infuriate that bad?” she murmured to herself. Her heart raced and she had trouble drawing breath. The air stopped somewhere south of her throat.

  Shit! Who? Eileen? Maybe the hysteria on the terrace was all an act. They’d made fun of the earnest young girl more than once. Her commitment to community service had been a source of amusement back then. Now, she admired the former class secretary for her efforts. Suzanne contributed both her time and money to various charities in Chicago. Charlie had always insisted on giving back. Of course, the payback had been mostly monetary, but what the hell, a contribution was a contribution.

  She shook her head. I don’t see Eileen killing anything other than a spider.

  Dan Masterson? As much as she hated the son of a bitch, she didn’t think he had the cajones to actually follow through. Too much riding on his political career for him to take the chanc
e. He might think about it, but that was all.

  Glory Ecklund?

  Skinny to the point of emaciation and dumb as an ox, Glory? Don’t make me laugh. Besides, she wasn’t even in our class. She graduated five or six years after us.

  Tom Ecklund?

  Mr. Excitement? She sipped her drink and mulled his name over in her mind. The quiet, almost introverted bookworm had been the butt of Eddie’s so-called jokes on numerous occasions, but as far as she knew Tami hadn’t singled him out for special treatment. Tami preferred dishing punishment to girls who may or may not have wronged her. And I don’t remember either Dave or I paying much attention to Tom in high school. No, someone who hated all of us did this if, indeed, the deaths are connected.

  Twenty years was a long time. Suzanne had trouble remembering what they had done let alone the names of the victims. They’d been so young, so caught up with a sense of their own importance. The feelings of others? Not a problem. Who cared? Their victims were the losers in the high school pecking order—social inferiors who didn’t count.

  Lord, how cheap and shallow it all seems now.

  Tami had been the ringleader, but she’d been smart enough to let Eddie think he was numero uno. Dave had been more amused by their exploits. She remembered he’d pull off a prank, laugh, and then go on with whatever came next. Usually sex with me—and sometimes Tami.

  Occasionally, Suzanne had hated her best friend. It galled her that Tami showed no conscience about balling Dave, then telling her and giggling about it.

  Bitch. No wonder she’s dead.

  Maybe that was the answer. Tami had screwed the wrong husband or boyfriend and someone had made her pay. Eddie, too. The miserable sleaze had hit on her several times. Could jealousy be the answer for his death?

  Suzanne downed her drink. In spite of having just ditched Dave, she now needed to find him. Ask him what he thought about all of this. Maybe he’d sobered up and coked out enough to remember the plots and plans of twenty years ago. He might recall something or someone she’d forgotten.

  She glanced at Zach and Meghan. He now sat with a bunch of guys. Meghan was ensconced with Eileen and her bunch of eager listeners in the corner. Suzanne signed her bar tab, left a generous tip, and walked out of the lounge without a backward look.