The Guest List

by Michaels, Fern

  Abby’s eyebrows shot upward. “I know, Steve. I don’t want it to be true. I love Donovan. I find it hard to believe that he could do anything so … so terrible but … finding the urn and talking to Dr. Oldmeyer—”

  “Who’s Dr. Oldmeyer?” Steve cut in.

  “Mallory’s psychiatrist. After leaving Carol and Donovan’s house, we drove to Atlanta, to Argone, the school, slash, institution where Mallory lived all those years. She wanted me to meet Dr. Oldmeyer so I’d hear from the horse’s mouth so to speak that she was sane. On top of that Mallory was hoping to see her case files and records, specifically the ones dealing with her hypnosis sessions and the records proving Donovan had an affair with Mama and the frequency … or rather infrequency … of his visits and letters during Mallory’s incarceration. You see, I’d been under the impression that Donovan had been checking on her regularly, but it seems not.”

  “That’s terrible!” Steve said, his face registering horror.

  “When we got there, everything was in a state of upheaval, so Dr. Oldmeyer didn’t have much time to spend with us.” Bit by bit she filled him in on the details of their visit to Argone and told him what she and Mallory thought it all meant.

  “Obviously, you’re feeling better about Mallory now. You believe her.”

  “Yes. I do now. Just before we left, Dr. Oldmeyer assured me Mallory is perfectly sane and that I could put my trust in her. When she told me that, I felt a ton of bricks slide off my shoulders. There were times I had my doubts. Lots of times.”

  “Okay, so in essence all this trip accomplished was to make you more suspicious. But you can’t convict a man on suspicions. Especially a man like your adoptive father. Donovan Mitchell is … hell Abby, he’s practically an icon. They don’t call him Mr. Land Developer for nothing. His credentials are so impressive they make you gasp for breath. I saw something in the paper about a retirement village he’s building. It’s ready now, but the owners won’t be moving in till the week before Christmas or maybe the New Year. It’s one of those one-ofa-kind places that is a community in itself with a twenty-fourhour-a-day tram service that virtually does away with the need for a car. Donovan’s quote was, ‘This is the wave of the future!’ He said he was committed to building four more communities just like it. The guy is so rich he could burn his money if he wanted to. If he is a murderer and if he thinks Mallory is on to him, he might—” He abruptly stopped. “You girls need to be careful. Maybe you and Mallory should move in here for a while so I can keep an eye on you.”

  “No to moving in here. Steve, you can’t be serious. Donovan would never hurt me. He loves me.”

  “I love you, too, honey. And I’d hate like hell to lose you.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Abby sat at the kitchen table playing with the two letters that had come from Carol in the morning mail. One was for Mallory and one was for her.

  Mallory watched her sister over the rim of her coffee cup. She reached out to touch the beige envelope. “Do you think it’s a letter bomb? It could be, you know. You open yours first.”

  “No, I don’t think it’s a letter bomb. You open yours first,” Abby countered as she moved Mallory’s letter closer to her coffee cup.

  “Let’s compromise,” Mallory suggested. “You shuffle them around. I’ll close my eyes and pick one. Whichever one I pick gets opened first. This is really silly, you know. It’s probably nothing at all.”

  “Maybe,” Abby said, holding the letters up to the light. “But it could just as easily be something.” She set the letters down on the table. “Okay, close your eyes.” She flipped the envelopes over, address side down, and switched them back and forth a few times like a sideshow shell man until she didn’t know which was which. “Go for it,” she said, holding her breath.

  Mallory studied the envelopes. “This one,” she said, slowly turning one of them over.

  Abby gasped when she saw her name. “I think you cheated,” she said, picking up her butter knife to slit it open.

  “Read it out loud,” Mallory ordered, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

  “Dear Abby,

  “I made a promise to Donovan and to myself that as soon as we got home from visiting Bobby, I would call or write you. For the last two days, I have sat here by the phone trying to get up the nerve to dial your number but couldn’t for fear you might hang up on me.

  “If only I could turn back the clock and do things differently. There is so much I would change. For one, I would have listened to you when you tried to tell me that I was smothering you and trying to control your life. I didn’t believe you. I thought you were exaggerating. I know now you weren’t. I was every bit as smothering and controlling as you said. If you hadn’t alienated yourself from me, I probably would have totally taken over your life. I am so very sorry, Abby.

  “Abby, there are no words to tell you how much I regret my behavior. I want to blame it all on menopause but I know that’s only part of it. As I look back, I see I have always been the kind of person who needed to be in control. I don’t exactly know why, but I promise you it’s ended. I’m getting help.

  “I beg you to give me another chance. I know I’m asking a lot but you mean a great deal to me and I can’t live knowing that my own daughter (I have always thought of you as my own) hates me.

  “On the chance that you can’t forgive me, please reconsider your relationship with Donovan. He knows very little about what’s gone on between you and me, and he is entirely blameless. He’s so proud of you, Abby. You have always been his little princess.

  “The grand opening for Donovan’s first retirement village will be December 15. It is such a momentous milestone in his life. He’s going to be honored by many civic groups as well as his peers. People will be coming from all over the country to view this village. It would mean a great deal to him if you and Mallory could be there. Yes, I said Mallory.

  “Please let me know your decision by phone or letter. And again, I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you and hope you’ll give me an opportunity to make it up to you.

  “Love,

  “Carol.”

  Abby took a deep breath, refolded the letter, and set it down. “Your turn.”

  Mallory used her fingernail to open her letter.

  “Dear Mallory, “ she began, then looked up at Abby.

  “After all these years of refusing to communicate with you, I imagine this letter will come as a bolt out of the blue. I’m sorry about that. I wish I could turn the clock back and change things. I have wronged you terribly. I gave up on you and never gave you a second chance. I’ll have to pay for that one of these days, and I’ll deserve whatever punishment I get. I am the one responsible for keeping Donovan away from you. He wanted to visit you more often, but I vowed to make his life hell if he did. I’m afraid I made it hell anyway.

  “I won’t even bother to ask you to forgive me or to give me a second chance, as I don’t deserve it. I don’t think the damage I’ve done can ever be repaired. But I am asking that you give Donovan a second chance and come to the dedication of his first retirement village. Whatever ill feelings you hold toward me, and they are justified, I hope you can set them aside and do this for Donovan’s sake. Please, Mallory, think about it and make plans to attend.

  “Best wishes,

  “Carol.”

  The two sisters stared at one another. “You doing eggs or what?” Abby asked as she struggled to clear her throat.

  “Yeah, I’m doing the eggs,” Mallory said, setting the letter down and getting up. “You do the toast. Make the butter soft, okay?”

  “Wait a minute,” Abby said, shoving her chair back. “I’m really not very hungry. Are you?”

  Mallory stopped midway to the sink and turned. “I think I’d choke on the food if I had to eat it. I think we’re just talking to hear ourselves talk.”

  Abby stared at Mallory, seeing her but not seeing her. She had never known Carol to apologize for anything. Why, all of a sudden, would s
he do it? Was it really because of Donovan? Was she so devoted to him and his wants that she would compromise herself for his sake? Her brain clicked and whirled. It simply didn’t compute.

  “What should we do?” Abby asked. “About the invitation, I mean.”

  “I can’t believe you’re asking me that,” Mallory said, looking genuinely astonished. “We’re going to accept … of course.”

  “Of course? Why of course? Why is it a given that we’re going? I can’t think of a single reason why you would want to go. Do you know how tense it will be, especially around Carol? You can’t just put years of bitterness aside and act like nothing has happened.”

  “I don’t intend to put anything aside, but it won’t be me who is feeling the tension, it’ll be Carol and Donovan. As to why it’s a given that we’re going … to see what Donovan will do, if he’ll slip up and tip his hand. Remember he knows I know something, but he’s not sure exactly what it is I know. He’s bound to be nervous. This would be a perfect time for him to make a mistake.”

  Fear and frustration rose in Abby’s throat. She swallowed hard. “This is all way over my head, Mallory. Way over both our heads, if you ask me.” She ran her hand through her hair. “You forget, I’m just a mystery writer, not a detective.”

  “You’re afraid. I understand. So am I. But we have to do this. He has to pay for what he did.”

  “If he … did anything,” Abby reminded her. “We don’t have proof, and until we have proof …”

  “We’ll never get the proof,” Mallory interrupted, “unless he accidentally does something to reveal himself. All we’ve got to go on is motivation and speculation. None of this would be happening, by the way, if the police had done their job properly and investigated our parents’ deaths. I mean really investigated. They should have done an autopsy on Mama to determine if she died of natural causes or something else. That would have told the story right there.”

  Abby crossed her arms behind her neck and laid her head down on the table. “This is going to spoil Christmas.” Her voice was mumbled. “You know that, don’t you? You think about this, Mallory. We go there, we tour the retirement village, we suffer through all the ceremonies, and we probably have dinner with them. Then what?”

  “I don’t know. All this is like a chess game. It’ll be Donovan’s move. He’ll either play his pawn or …”

  “Checkmate!” Abby broke in, making a pistol out of her hand and pointing it at Mallory.

  “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll take my gun, and don’t even think about asking me if I know how to use it. I came in first in the sharpshooters’ class. I always hit my target even if it’s moving. The insurance company loved me.”

  “You have a gun. Donovan has guns. I don’t like guns, Mallory. Guns kill people.”

  “Wrong. People kill people. Guns are just a tool that people use to achieve that end. I don’t like guns either. Sometimes they are a necessary evil.”

  “I want to talk to Steve about this before I decide. Maybe we should take him with us. Now that he’s got another vet working with him, he can take off now and then. I’d feel better if he went with us.”

  “If that’s what it takes to get you to go, then fine, but you’ll be giving away the fact that you’re in love with him. And considering what happened to Connor … It’s time to make that call to Connor’s parents, Abby. Time to find out if he died of natural causes or if he was murdered.”

  “I can’t. His parents are elderly. It would upset them.”

  Mallory sighed. “Okay. It’s up to you. But I need to call Dr. Oldmeyer back and find out who the big contributor was and ask if she got her files back.”

  Steve was just finishing up checking a cat for ear mites when Abby came in the back door. Steel cages lined one long wall, all of them filled with animals. The majority were dogs and cats, but today there was also a box turtle in one of the cages.

  “Hey!” he said. “Did you come for your rabies shot? We’re running a blue-light special on them today.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s with the turtle?” she asked.

  “He’s sick.”

  Abby walked over to the cage and looked in. The turtle’s head was buried inside its shell. “How can you tell?”

  Steve walked up behind her and put his arm around her shoulder. “Well, he’s a little pale, and he’s listless.”

  Abby wrinkled her nose as she studied the turtle more closely. His shell looked like any other turtle’s shell. Maybe Steve meant his body was pale. But since his body was inside the shell … She felt Steve shaking and blinked up at him to see him trying to contain his laughter. The second their eyes met, he burst out laughing.

  “Oh, you’re good,” she said, shaking her finger at him. “Very good. I bought it, hook, line, and sinker.”

  “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t resist.”

  “Okay, what’s wrong with the turtle?”

  “Nothing. I’m boarding him while his owner is on vacation.”

  She turned on him, a lethal look in her eyes. Step by step she moved him backwards until they were both inside his private office, where she put her arms around him and kissed him with all the passion she could muster.

  “Hmm,” he said, coming up for air. “That was some serious kissing. I like this stalking business, especially in the middle of the afternoon. Is this a preview of what I can expect tonight?”

  “I think you can count on it.” She kissed him again, more passionately than the first time.

  Steve reached behind him to lock the door. “Just to make sure we aren’t disturbed.” He grinned.

  Thirty minutes later, Abby rolled off the sofa onto the floor. She reached for her jeans. “Thank you, Dr. Carpenter. Your diagnosis was, as usual, right on target. I feel better already. Do you have any idea how much I love you?” she said, looking up at him, a smile of contentment on her face.

  “I’m hoping it’s just as much as I love you. Sure you don’t want a rabies shot?”

  “What I really need is to have my head examined,” Abby responded. She proceeded to tell him about Carol’s letters. “I don’t want to go, but Mallory says we have to attend. She’s hoping Donovan will do something that will give him away.”

  “I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again—this is a dangerous game she’s playing, but I agree with her, you have to go. If there’s even a remote chance Mallory’s wrong and he’s innocent, then you have to know so you have peace of mind. By the same token, if Donovan’s guilty, you have to know that, too. But you don’t have to go alone. I’ll go with you.”

  “Oh, Steve,” Abby said cupping his face in her hands to give him a smacking kiss. “I was going to ask you, but I’m so glad you offered instead. I would feel so much better with you along.”

  “Me too. I’d be worried sick the whole time you were gone.” “I love you, Dr. Carpenter. And I thank God that you love me, too.” She kissed him one more time, a sweet, gentle kiss. “I’ll see you later, big guy.”

  Mallory’s car was gone. Good, Abby thought. This would be a perfect time to call Carol and tell her they were going to attend the dedication. She knew if she called when Mallory was around, she’d be listening to her every word, and it would make her even more nervous than she already was.

  She eyed the telephone. Five minutes. That’s all it would take to call Carol and accept the invitation. Then she could go into her office and work for the rest of the afternoon. Five little minutes. All she had to do was pick up the phone and dial the number.

  “First, I need to shift into neutral,” she said to all seven dogs, who were sitting in a semicircle around her feet, staring at her intently and listening to her with rapt attention. “I want to keep my voice brisk and professional-sounding and not veer from the subject. I hate this, I really do, but I can do it, I know I can. The truth is, guys, I have to do it.”

  Beemer barked when her hand snaked out to pick up the phone. “You’re right. Maybe I should give this some
more thought,” she said, looking down at him for approval. Olivia yawned. “The truth is, there is nothing to think about. I have to do this.” Resolved, she dialed the number. “Please let the answering machine pick up,” Abby whispered to the wall.

  “Hello?”

  “Carol, it’s Abby,” she said briskly.

  “Oh, Abby, it’s so good to hear from you. I assume you got my letter. Don’t torment me, Abby. Are you coming?”

  “Yes, Carol, I’ll be there.”

  “And Mallory?”

  “Mallory will be coming also.”

  Carol breathed heavily. “This is wonderful. Donovan will be so excited to see you. I want to keep it as a surprise, so if he calls you, don’t give it away. Okay?”

  “Sure. What time is the ceremony?”

  “It hasn’t been carved in stone yet. At first it was set for ten o’clock, then someone wanted to make it a luncheon and someone else wanted it to be a dinner ceremony. The last I heard was yesterday and it was back to lunch. I’ll let you know as soon as it’s in granite. How’s your new book coming?”

  “Oh, it’s coming,” Abby said coolly. “The research is very time-consuming but fun. Now I just have to put everything in order.”

  “I’ve always wanted to write a book. Maybe one of these days I’ll get around to it. It must be a little like having a child. First you conceive it, then you give birth to it, then you nurture it until it’s grown and ready to go out on its own.”

  Abby thought a moment about Carol’s analogy. “Yes, I suppose it is. For some strange reason I’m closer to this book than the other two. And you know what’s funny? I don’t even know how the book will end yet, if the killer gets caught or gets away with it.” She knew she was babbling, but she couldn’t help herself. So much for brisk and professional, she thought wryly.

  “How are things going between you and Mallory?”

  The inevitable question, Abby thought. It deserved a better than a “good” answer. “Mallory has been a fantastic help to me. I don’t know what I’d do without her. She amazes me the way she thinks. She has one of those analytical minds and digs up the most interesting research tidbits. This book is set in Edison, you know, right in our old neighborhood. While Mallory was digging up stuff for background information, she found the newspaper article covering our parents’ death. She says that the coroner should have done an autopsy on Mama and not just assumed that Mama died of the same thing Aunt Emma did.”