The Guest List

by Michaels, Fern

  Abby paled as she remembered the after-TV-interview conversation with Donovan. Had he been trying to tell her something when he’d asked her if she’d considered the possible ramifications of writing Proof Positive? Was he withdrawing his financial support from Argone to get even with Mallory for appearing on national TV? But how could taking away his contribution affect Mallory, now that she no longer needed the school’s services? Like everything else in the ongoing puzzle, it didn’t make sense.

  A pulse started to throb behind Abby’s right eye. She didn’t know if she should share her thoughts with Mallory and Constance or not. What purpose would it serve? None she could think of, though she was certain it would arouse even more suspicion against Donovan. And it seemed to her there was already enough suspicion without her adding to it.

  “It is Donovan,” Mallory stated unequivocally. “I know it as sure as I’m sitting here. The timing is too coincidental for it not to be him.”

  Dr. Oldmeyer’s gaze turned speculative. “I wonder—” She tilted her head and looked at Mallory. “No,” she said, evidently dismissing the idea, whatever it was.

  “What?” Mallory persisted.

  “Well …” she said. “Something else very strange has happened, and I was wondering if there was a connection. But I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  Mallory looked at Abby, who was sitting on the opposite bench. “Tell us anyway.”

  “It’s just that when I went into my office to get the things you asked me for, I learned that the file boxes containing all our ‘case closed’ files had been removed and put in a more secure location in the school. I’m sure I’ll get them back, but at the moment I don’t know where they are so I don’t have anything to show your sister.”

  “Didn’t you put everything on the hard drive of your computer?”

  “Yes, but when I got my new computer last month, I transferred your files to disc and put them in with the hard copies so everything would be together in one place. You don’t think …”

  “I don’t know what to think,” Mallory interrupted. “It could be nothing, or it could be something. Was there anything in my files that would have caused Donovan concern? I mean, did I tell you anything under hypnosis that would implicate him? Something we didn’t discuss or something I might have forgotten.”

  “Not that I can remember, but your files went back to the day you were admitted. After I came on the scene there was … Let me think. Visitation records, of course, and the letters Donovan sent you and copies of the ones you sent him along with the audiotapes of your hypnosis sessions. I wish you had told me you wanted those things the other day when you were here.” She consulted her watch again. “Oh, dear, I really do have to be going. These money meetings take precedence over everything in this place. In addition to everything else going on, Dr. Malfore told me that he was going to hand in his resignation following the meeting, but wouldn’t tell me why.”

  “Who is Dr. Malfore?” Abby asked.

  “He was my first psychiatrist here at Argone. Now he’s chief of staff,” Mallory answered. When Constance stood, Mallory took her hand. “Please, Constance, just one more minute. I need you to tell my sister I’m not crazy. Tell her I’m mentally healthy and that my suspicions about Donovan are well-founded.”

  Constance Oldmeyer placed both her hands on Abby’s shoulders. “She’s telling you the truth, my dear. My files contain Mallory’s childhood memories of Donovan having an affair with your mother, which may or may not be a motive for murder. If you need added reassurance, I’ll be happy to fax you copies of my findings. I’ll need a signed release from you, of course, Mallory. It was such a pleasure meeting you, Abby.” She turned to Mallory and gave her a hug. “I’ll call you as soon as all this gets straightened out. A few days at the most. Take care of each other. Love each other.” And then she was gone, her shoulders slumping as she trundled down the brick path that led to the main part of the building.

  Mallory turned to look at her sister, her face miserable. She dropped down to the apple green grass and crossed her legs Indian fashion. “What do you make of all this, Abby?”

  “I’m not sure, but like you I have to wonder if Donovan is the one who canceled his contribution. Obviously you and Constance have discussed him at length. This whole thing is so unrealistic I wouldn’t be able to get this stuff past my editor even if I was planning on using it in the book.”

  Mallory stared off into the distance. “Don’t say that, Abby, because you have to use this stuff. It’s all part of the plot, don’t you see? Some of it will turn out to be nothing at all—red herrings, so to speak, and the rest—Somehow in the end it will all fit. I know it.” She plucked a blade of grass. “Tell me if this makes any sense. Donovan knows I know something. But he’s not sure exactly what I know. He knows Dr. Oldmeyer would have kept records of everything I told her. It’s those records that worry him, so he has to get rid of them. But he can’t just barge into Argone and get them himself now, can he? No. He has to get someone to get them for him, someone who has the authority to move the records. As chief of staff, Dr. Malfore is the only one who has that authority. But, of course, he would never get rid of patient files, closed or not … unless he was pressured into doing it by someone threatening to take away Argone’s main line of financial support. I know Dr. Malfore, and if in fact he did take those files for that reason, in my opinion, he would feel he’d betrayed his own high principles. Leaving Argone would be a likely step for him to take, especially if after his taking the files, the gift to Argone was canceled anyway.”

  Abby’s mind was reeling. Mallory should have been the mystery writer. She could put two and two together and come up with five and sometimes six if she thought about it long enough. “Everything you’ve said could be true. But it could just as easily be a series of coincidences.”

  “Time will tell,” Mallory said, getting to her feet. “It all depends on who the ‘big’ contributor is.” She took a deep breath and let it out in a resigned sigh. “Well, I guess we might as well head for the airport. God, this makes me crazy.”

  “Bad word choice, Mallory,” Abby said, jokingly.

  Mallory didn’t appear the least bit amused. “Abby, wait a minute. I know all this sounds fishy. I drag you here and suddenly everything goes haywire. It seems like everything I tell you or try to prove comes back to bite me on the ass. I’m afraid if I lose my grip, I’ll slip right back into that dark place I inhabited for so long. I need you to believe in me. There was a time when I thought as long as Constance believed in me, that was enough. You’ve now jumped ahead of Constance. I wouldn’t lie to you, Abby. That’s not who I am anymore. Please. Look at me. Tell me you believe me.”

  Right then Abby had to make what was probably the most important decision of her life, but all she wanted to do was close her eyes, go to sleep, and wake up with Olivia and Beemer licking her feet. She held out her arms. “I believe everything you said to me, Mallory. I’d trust you with my life. I’d even trust you with Olivia and Beemer. From now on it’s us against him or them or whoever.”

  An instant later she realized everything she’d just said was true.

  “Are you sure you want to do one more drive-by, Mallory? We’ve been up and down this street at least fifty times. We took pictures of our old house, Donovan’s old house, and we even took pictures of the house where the raisin-cookie lady lived. She used to bring them to Donovan’s house and he’d share them with me. We have pictures of the malls, the police station, and the town hall. We have street maps, gas-station locations, bank locations. I think we have more than enough background material to finish Proof Positive and a couple more books besides. I don’t want to overload the reader with details. They’ll get bored, and if they get bored—bye-bye book. Hello, trash can!”

  Mallory sat forward in her seat and peered out the windshield. “I don’t think I’d want to live here again, would you, Abby?”

  “I barely remember it, so I can’t answer that. The only memory th
at’s alive for me is of all the times I ran across the lawn to Donovan’s house,” Abby said in a choked voice. “To think that he killed our parents … and Connor … I can’t bear thinking about it, Mallory. I know everything looks really bad for him but … Oh, I don’t know. To tell you the truth, I pray to God it isn’t true, that you’re wrong. I’m sorry, but that’s how I feel.”

  Mallory’s fine chiseled features took on a pinched look. “I understand. I really do.”

  “I don’t want to think about this any more today,” Abby said firmly. “I want to visit Bobby, make sure he’s doing all right, then go home.” She pulled a slip of paper out of her purse. “Here, you be the navigator.”

  Abby made a right-hand turn on Calvert Avenue and headed out to Grove and then to James where she picked up Route 27. “I think we just did the long way around,” Abby grumbled as she drove through the small town of Metuchen. Thirty minutes later, Abby turned the car into the hospital parking lot.

  “Hey, little brother,” Abby said, peeking around the door into Bobby’s private room. “What’s up?”

  “Abby! Boy am I glad to see you.” Cautiously, Bobby inched himself up into a sitting position.

  “I have a surprise for you. Come on in, Mallory. It’s time you and your little brother got better acquainted.”

  Bobby’s jaw dropped. “Wow! Mallory.”

  Mallory walked over to the side of the bed, leaned down, and gave the boy a big hug. “Once they let you out of this joint, you and I are going to have to get really acquainted. I’ve always wanted a little brother to torment, and you look really tormentable,” she teased, putting her fist against his chin.

  “Yeah, well don’t think I can’t put up a good fight. Ask Abby. She’ll tell you.”

  “Oh, boy, can I ever,” Abby agreed. “Be careful what you wish for, Mallory.”

  “Hey, this is great. Really great,” Bobby said. His smile reached to both of his big ears.

  “How long ago did Carol and Donovan leave?” Abby asked.

  Bobby rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to forget they were here. Mom’s wacko. Big-time. First she insisted that I go home to recuperate so she could take care of me. Then, she was going to try to get a room here in the hospital to be near me … She wouldn’t lay off. It’s like she’s obsessed or something.”

  Abby squeezed his arm. “She was that way with me, too, Bobby. Finally, I just couldn’t take it anymore. That’s why we’ve become so estranged. I feel real bad about it, but like you said, it’s as if she’s obsessed. What am I saying? She is obsessed. Obsessed with controlling people’s lives. And when they refuse to let her take over their lives, she freaks.”

  “Tell me about it,” Bobby agreed.

  “Listen, we can’t stay but a few minutes,” Abby said. “We have a plane to catch. We just came to make sure you’re feeling okay. Are you?”

  “Not bad, considering. I get tired easy, but they tell me I’ll be back to my old self in no time.”

  “Hey, Bobby,” Mallory said, wiggling his foot. “Maybe you can help us, you being a guy and all. This book Abby’s writing, Proof Positive … it has this teenage boy who needs to hide stuff from his parents. Private stuff. You know, junk that only means something to him.” Abby gave her a disgusted look, but Mallory ignored her. “If you wanted to hide something, where would you hide it?”

  Bobby’s brow furrowed. “Well, if I was old enough and had a car, I suppose I’d probably hide something under the spare tire in the trunk.”

  “Will you listen to that, Abby! In a million years we never could have come up with that!”

  Abby grimaced. She hated the way her sister was duping Bobby. On the other hand, she wasn’t eager to call Carol or Donovan and ask them where their parents’ stuff was, so she let it go.

  “What about boxes of stuff, like old papers and pictures and stuff?” Mallory asked. “Think about home. Picture the house and all the storage areas. Where would a kid hide something so bulky?”

  “How many boxes of stuff?” Bobby asked.

  Mallory shrugged. “Two to four maybe. Probably two.”

  Bobby narrowed his eyes and twisted his lips. “In our garage, there’s a pull-down ladder that leads up to a big storage space. You wouldn’t know the ladder was there unless you were looking for it. If I was going to hide something, I’d probably hide it up there.”

  “How come I never knew about it?” Abby asked.

  “I don’t know,” Bobby said. “Probably because Dad keeps his guns up there. The only reason I know about it is because I caught him coming down the ladder one day. He asked me to keep it between the two of us. He said it was the only place where he could hide Mom’s Christmas presents so she wouldn’t find them.”

  Guns? Abby had never known Donovan to own guns. Did he use them to hunt? Or did he collect them? She had a million questions, but at the moment she couldn’t find it in her heart to ask even one. “I’d love to stay longer, little brother, but we really have to get going if we’re going to catch that plane. If you’re going home over Christmas break, come over. I want to introduce you to my canine family.”

  “The ones you wrote about in Canine Capers? Sounds great. You’ll be there, too, right, Mallory?” he asked hopefully.

  “Sure will.”

  Both Abby and Mallory kissed Bobby good-bye, then hurried away, neither of them speaking until they reached the car.

  “I feel awful tricking him like that,” Mallory spoke first. “You aren’t mad at me, are you?”

  “I was a little miffed at first, then I realized it was better than my calling Donovan or Carol and asking them where the stuff was.” She turned on the ignition key and sat a moment while the car idled. “What’s going to happen to Bobby if …” She choked up, the words never quite reaching her lips. “I wish none of this had ever happened. Sometimes it’s better not to know things so you don’t get hurt.”

  Abby couldn’t believe her eyes. Steve’s dining-room table, a garage-sale find, looked like an interior designer had come in and set it. He’d dressed it up with colorful Fiesta dishes, heavy silverware, pewter serving dishes, and multicolored cloth napkins.

  “I can’t believe you did this all by yourself,” she said, her expression full of awe.

  “Yeah, well, as they say, I am a man of many talents, but I wanted to get in practice for turkey day. I just wish I were a faster chef. I was up half the night cooking.” His tone and expression begged for sympathy.

  She put her arms around his neck. “I know I wasn’t gone very long, but I really missed you.”

  “Really? It didn’t sound like it when you called. It sounded like you only missed the dogs.”

  She knew he was kidding by his little-boy tone. “Well, I did miss them … but I missed you more. And tonight, after dinner, I’m going to show you just how much.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “So, when are you going to tell me what happened?”

  “Later. I don’t want to deal with it right now. I’m staying the night by the way,” Abby said boldly.

  “You are, huh?”

  “Yep, and I didn’t bring a stitch of clothing with me other than what I’m wearing.”

  “Uh-huh,” Steve said, his face brick red. He released her and went back to his cooking. “Things are about ready here. I think we should feed the dogs now. That way they’ll be occupied while we’re eating and leave us alone so we can moon over each other.”

  Abby stared at her dogs in disbelief while Steve prepared their dinner. “How did you get them to sit still like that and not bark?”

  “Discipline.”

  “Discipline as in you beat them or what?”

  “Hell, no, I didn’t beat them. Haven’t you ever heard the word no?”

  Abby looked perplexed. “They don’t understand that word.”

  “That’s because you don’t use it. But you can take it from me … it works.”

  The feeding was accomplished in a quiet, organized manner
, nothing like the noisy chaos she was used to. Steve was amazing, she thought. No wonder he was such a good vet. He really did understand the animals and knew how to make them behave. She reached for the wooden spoon to stir the white sauce bubbling on the stove. She realized she wasn’t the least bit hungry. At least not for food.

  “Steve? I know how hard you worked cooking all this, but the truth is there’s only one thing I’m really hungry for, and that’s you. Do you think we could put dinner on hold a while and satisfy our other appetite?”

  Wordlessly Steve started to race around the kitchen like a short-circuited robot, turning off the stove, the oven, wrapping and securing the food in the refrigerator.

  “Sex is a great emotional release, isn’t it?” Abby said, sighing heavily with exhaustion.

  Steve’s heart was still racing. “Yeah! No kidding. What emotion was that exactly?”

  Abby chuckled and playfully squeezed his upper thigh. “I think it was a combination of emotions. Too much for you, huh?”

  “No, no! Never too much. Me Tarzan,” he said, beating himself on the chest. He pulled her closer. Neither of them spoke for several minutes. When their ragged breathing calmed, he asked, “Are you ready to tell me what you two were up to? Needless to say, I’m just a little curious.”

  Abby wished she could twitch her nose so he would instantly know everything there was to know, but she didn’t possess any magical powers. If she did, she would make this whole awful situation just go away. She decided to start right from the beginning, with Mallory’s television interview, Donovan’s phone call, his accusations against Mallory … everything. “We thought if we could find the urn and our parents’ personal effects, they might shed some light on the truth, so we broke into Donovan and Carol’s house. Well, we didn’t actually break in, since I have a key. We went through their things, though, and we found the urn shoved into the back of Bobby’s closet, which proves Donovan lied about it and makes me wonder how many other lies he’s told.”

  “My God, Abby, this is serious. Deadly serious.”