“How can you have an ending until you decide who the murderer is?”
“I thought I told you. I had to go ahead and assume I knew who the killer was so I could finish plotting the book. The way things are going, it could be months before I know the truth, if indeed I ever know. Publishing waits for no man … or woman.”
“So—Who is it?”
“Who’s what?”
“The murderer?”
“Oh! Donovan, of course. Aka Joe Mooney. That’s the character’s name.” She swiveled the seat around in a circle. “I’ll be so glad to be done with it. It’s bringing up old memories about Mallory and Mama that I would just as soon forget.”
“Just out of curiosity, are you going to tell your editor about Mallory or are you going to continue the charade?”
“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her is my philosophy. Don’t look so skeptical, Steve. If it does come up, I’ll just say we’re a writing team, which on this book we are, sort of. Once she meets me, she’ll know why I did what we did.” She swiveled around again.
“Stop that. You’re making me dizzy.”
Abby jumped down off the stool and walked over to him. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?” Before he could answer, she planted a big kiss on his mouth. “Bye. Have a nice day. Oh, and … when this book is finished and everything that goes with it, let’s go away for a little while, just you and me.”
“I think I might be able to get a few days.”
“By the way, what are you getting me for Christmas?”
“None of your business. Get out of here!”
On the ride back to her own house, Abby smiled all the way. Mallory was sitting at the kitchen table when she opened the door. “You look upset. Is something wrong?”
“This is the third time I’ve tried calling Constance at home and at Argone. No one answers at home, and the receptionist at Argone says she’s out of the office and that she has no idea when she’ll be back.”
A flicker of apprehension ran down Abby’s spine. “I didn’t realize you’d tried before. You don’t think she would avoid your call, do you?”
Mallory shook her head. “No. She would never do that. I’m starting to get a little worried because this isn’t like her.”
Abby sat down across from her sister. “I’ve been thinking,” she said, hoping to get Mallory’s mind off Constance. “I can’t stand all this waiting and wondering, so I’m going to call Connor’s brother. But first, you and I are going to make a list of things I should say. Okay?”
Mallory reached for a pen and pad. “Number one,” she said, “make nice, talk about the weather, how he’s doing, his parents, etc. Number two. Lead in gradually, apologetically, and …”
Abby listened to Mallory’s suggestions, then added a few thoughts of her own. “What if he says no?”
“Then he says no. You’ll be polite and ask him to please think about it. Believe me he will think about it. He won’t be able to help himself. You said he was very close to Connor. He’ll want to know the truth. Maybe he won’t call back today, maybe not even tomorrow, but he will call back eventually. Trust me.”
“You keep saying that. What if it’s a flat-out no and it stays no?”
“It won’t.”
Abby thumbed through her address book until she came to the phone number. “Give me that list,” she said, when the phone started to ring.
“Hello, Dennis. It’s Abby. Abby Mitchell. Yes, I’m fine and you?” She asked about his parents and the weather and his plans for Christmas. The fact that he sounded just like Connor unnerved her a little, but she forged ahead, the list guiding her. “Listen, Dennis, I have something I need to talk to you about. I’m so sorry to have to burden you with this, especially at this time of year and all, but I have good reason to believe Connor didn’t die a natural death but … was murdered. Please, before you say anything let me explain.” She told him everything in great detail, starting with the death of her parents seventeen years earlier. He expressed disbelief, dismay, confusion, but he never said he thought she was crazy. “I have all kinds of evidence but no proof,” she explained, “which is why I’m calling. Would your parents consider exhuming Connor’s body so an autopsy could be performed?” Abby listened to the sputtering on the other end of the line. She waited until he finished. “I know how it sounds, and believe me this isn’t something I want to do, but …” Mallory pointed to a sentence on the list. “But I can’t get on with my life until I know the truth. Connor would want this, too, Dennis. I know he would.” She took a deep breath and glanced up at Mallory. “Yes, I know it would upset your parents. Maybe since you have their power of attorney, you could do it without telling them. Of course, I understand. Will you at least think about it? You have my number, don’t you? I could come to Oregon, Dennis, if that would help.” Her face drained of color as she looked at Mallory. “I’ll wait for your call, Dennis.” She stared at the phone a long time after Dennis had hung up.
“That was tough, sis. I’m sorry. Was he the least little bit receptive?”
“Toward the end,” she said, looking away, her face pained. “He said he’d call me back in a day or two, after he’d had time to think about it.”
Mallory watched as her sister got up stiffly to fix herself a cup of coffee. Abby didn’t say another word as she picked up the cup to take with her to her office, leaving Mallory alone in the kitchen, staring at her retreating back.
Abby felt like her head was going to blow off her shoulders when she finally turned off her computer at five o’clock. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, hoping to ease the tension between her shoulder blades. She debated answering the phone when it rang, the first call she’d had all day. She grabbed for the phone. Maybe it was Dennis calling back. Please, please, please let this be Dennis and please, please, please let him say yes, she prayed.
“Hello?”
“Abby, this is Fran.”
It was her editor. Abby sat up straighter in her chair. “Hi, Fran. How are you?” she asked, wondering why she was calling this late in the day. She never called just to chat. Their relationship was strictly business.
Fran gave the usual polite responses before she got to the point of the call. “I know Proof Positive isn’t due until February, but I thought I’d check in with you to see if there’s any chance you might be through with it sooner. We ran into some legal problems with one of our March books and have had to do some rescheduling.”
Abby had never heard her editor sound so frazzled. “As a matter of fact, I’ll be finished with it this week, Fran.”
Abby heard a huge sigh on the other end of the line. “Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. Can you put all the finished chapters in attachments and e-mail them to me? Then I can get started on them right away.”
“I thought it took several months to get a book into print.”
“We can do it overnight if we have to.”
“Overnight? Are you serious?”
“That was an exaggeration, Abby. But being we’re really in a bind here; the entire staff has agreed to work together to make this happen in record time.”
Abby had a million questions. “What about the book tour and all the publicity stuff we were talking about?”
“We’ll reschedule everything. Don’t worry. I’m on top of it. Everything I promised you will still happen, only sooner. Listen, send those chapters out as soon as we hang up, okay? I’m going to get started on them tonight. And thanks, Abby, for being such a good sport.”
Abby hung up the phone and started to work. She didn’t want to keep her editor waiting. Fran was depending on her. It took her a little over an hour to e-mail off twenty chapters. In the body of the e-mail, she explained that the last two chapters would be e-mailed by Friday afternoon. She was glad she wasn’t one of those writers who saved their spell-checking and punctuation for last. When she finished a chapter, it was fin-ished, right down to the last comma.
The smell of roasting m
eat reached Abby’s nose. It obviously reached Olivia’s nose, too, because she woke up and sniffed the air. Abby turned off the computer, turned out the lights, and followed Olivia to the kitchen.
“What is that delicious smell?” she asked, her mouth watering.
“Ribs. Are you hungry?”
“Starved,” Abby replied as she poured each of them a glass of red wine. “I have news. My editor called a little while ago and wants the book as soon as I’m finished with it, which will be this Friday. There was some legal glitch with another book that was scheduled, and they’re putting mine in its place.” She repeated her editor’s conversation to her sister.
“So much for all that talk about it taking months to produce a book. It’s too bad things didn’t work out so you could use the final chapters of our own little mystery. But it’s probably better this way. By the way, I finished all that stuff you wanted about my dreams. It’s right there by the phone.”
“Good. Your input has been great. I just wish it wasn’t so painful for you.”
“It’s just as painful for you,” Mallory said. She opened the oven door and basted the ribs with a thick, reddish brown sauce. “I was thinking about calling Dr. Oldmeyer’s daughter. She lives in Atlanta near Argone. What do you think?”
“If she gets mad, just tell her how worried you’ve been. That will calm her down.”
Mallory adjusted the top burners on the stove. “Where’s my purse?” She turned around in a circle. “There it is,” she said, spying it on the counter where she kept her car keys. She rifled through her purse until she found her digital address book. She punched in the numbers. “Keep your fingers crossed,” she said. “It’s the damn machine,” she whispered a second later, disappointed. “Hello, this is Mallory Evans. I’m a good friend of your mother’s, and I’m worried because I haven’t been able to reach her for several days. Could you ask her to please give me a call at area code 843-871-0909.”
Dinner was basically a silent affair, each young woman busy with her own thoughts. They finished at the same time and stared across the table at one another. Mallory refilled their wineglasses.
“Do you suppose Carol has any inkling that Donovan had an affair with Mama?” Abby asked. “If your memories are one hundred percent right, Donovan dated Carol and had an affair with Mama at the same time. Boy, if that isn’t a macho trick. Carol would have been livid if she knew about Mama.” She peered over the rim of her glass at Mallory. “Mama would have known about Carol. There was nothing hush-hush about their relationship. You have to admit that was pretty shitty of him.” She set her glass down and put her hands on either side of her face. “Oh, God, this is way too much for my peabrain.”
Mallory resembled a melting candle as she leaned back against her chair. Her expression told Abby the thought hadn’t occurred to her. “You’re right,” she said at length. “Jesus, you’re right, Abby.”
“Okay, I’m right. So exactly what does that mean? I’m so confused I don’t even know what I said.”
“I know what you said but I don’t know what it all means. At least not yet. I have to think about it, mull it over, but I’ll bet you it means something. And don’t say it could just as easily mean nothing, please.”
Abby bit back what she was about to say. “I wasn’t going to,” she said, the lie hot on her lips. She took a sip of wine and stared into the bottom of the glass where it was safe.
“Donovan has to be real nervous about now. I’m sure Carol told him we’re coming to the dedication. I don’t think she would want to surprise him. When you’re forewarned you’re forearmed. We have to remember that.”
“But, Mallory, if Donovan killed our parents, why did he take us in?”
Mallory’s voice was cold and hard when she said, “Guilt!”
Abby crossed her arms and tried to draw comfort from their warmth as she stared into her sister’s glittering eyes. She didn’t succeed. Instead she started to cry.
“Don’t fall apart on me now, Abby. This is when you have to be strong and tough. I can’t do this alone.”
“I know, Mallory, I know. I’m okay. I’m just tired and stressed, and I think I’ve had too much wine.”
“Okay, let’s dump these dishes in the sink and go in and be couch potatoes. I think Diagnosis Murder is on.”
“No thanks. No murder mysteries, if you don’t mind. A comedy or a love story, anything but a murder mystery.”
The phone rang as the sisters were heading into the great room. Mallory picked up the cordless and kept walking. “Hello? Oh, yes, thank you for returning my call. Constance was supposed to call me several days ago and when she didn’t, I tried calling her, but I haven’t been able to reach her. I know I shouldn’t worry but …” Her relieved smile faded. “She what?” Her eyelashes flew upward, her eyes round with horror. “Oh, God no. How?” Abby hurried to Mallory’s side and steadied her. Mallory clutched her hand. “You did order an autopsy? I see. When is the funeral? Yes, I’ll be there. Thank you and … I’m so sorry. She was a wonderful woman. I literally owe her my life. Good-bye.”
Abby put her arms around her sister and held her while she cried. Hot tears stung her eyes as she tried to comprehend what this latest news could mean.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Abby and Steve sat close to each other on the sofa in the great room, their hands entwined, Abby’s head on his shoulder. Mallory sat across from them, slowly sipping her coffee. Only her eyes betrayed her misery. Sad eyes, Connor had called them a long time ago. Today they appeared even more sad if that was possible.
“You need to get some sleep. You look absolutely exhausted, Mallory,” Abby said. She knew for a fact that Mallory hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since before Dr. Oldmeyer’s funeral.
Woody jumped up onto Mallory’s lap and curled up. “I’m too wired to go to sleep. My mind is like a buzzing beehive right now. I can’t stop asking myself questions, like why didn’t it occur to me that Constance would be a threat to Donovan? How in the name of God did I miss that?”
Abby’s forehead furrowed with confusion. “A threat? What are you talking about, Mallory?”
“Constance was my confidante. She knew everything I knew. She knew about Donovan’s affair with Mama, about the DNA test … Everything! It makes perfect sense that he would want her dead. I just wish I’d thought of it sooner. Maybe I could have stopped him.”
Abby’s jaw dropped. “How could you possibly think Donovan had anything to do with Dr. Oldmeyer’s death. That’s too far-fetched to my way of thinking.” She closed her eyes a moment and reminded herself to be patient, to remember that Mallory wasn’t herself right then, that she was upset. “You talked to Constance’s daughter,” she said in a soothing voice. “You heard her say her mother died in the hospital, that she was with her, and that the autopsy she insisted on confirmed a heart attack. Tell me how that could be anything other than what it is.”
“I know it looks like natural causes on the surface,” Mallory said calmly. “And I’ll admit there’s a fifty-fifty chance it is. But ask yourself if it isn’t awfully coincidental, Constance dying of a ‘heart attack’ right after talking to us. As far as the autopsy goes … the doctor performing it would only have been looking to confirm a heart attack. If he found the evidence, he wouldn’t have looked for anything else. So you see, the autopsy wasn’t conclusive.”
Abby turned to Steve. “Please tell me she’s wrong.”
“I can’t,” Steve said with obvious reluctance. “If the doctor had no reason to suspect anything other than a heart attack, he wouldn’t waste his time looking further.”
Abby thought a moment. “All right. There’s a way we can resolve this. Call Argone, Mallory, and ask them if they have your records. You think Donovan’s killed Constance because of what she knew, but what she knew was also in those files of hers. If they have them, case closed. Right?”
“Right,” Mallory agreed as she stood up and stretched. “I’ll call them first thing tomorrow morning
. If you two will excuse me, and I know you will, I think I’ll go to bed. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
Abby struggled off the sofa to head toward her sister. “Please don’t be upset with me for disagreeing with you, sis. I feel for you. I really do. I know how hard it is to lose someone you love. But I think you’re reaching where Dr. Oldmeyer’s death is concerned.”
“I’m not upset, and I understand how you feel, Abby. Honest. We’re each entitled to our own opinions, and I just stated mine.” Mallory hugged Abby. “See you in the morning.”
Abby sat back down on the sofa next to Steve. He took her in his arms and held her tight. “Considering how Mallory feels right now, don’t you think you should cancel your plans to go to the dedication ceremony tomorrow?” he asked.
“If she wanted to cancel out, she would have said so, but I am going to ask that you not go with us. I love you too much to lose you. If by chance she’s right, and Donovan did kill Connor because of jealousy, then he would be just as jealous of you. So far, he knows nothing about you, and I would like it to stay that way until this is over.”
Steve released her and turned sideways. “I don’t want you to go without me, Abby. I’d be worried sick and …” His beeper chose that particular second to sound off. It was his answering service. He picked up the cordless phone and dialed the number. “This is Dr. Carpenter,” he said. Abby saw his face undergo several expressions: disbelief, anger, concern. He reached for the pad and pen on the coffee table. “It’ll take me a half hour to get there,” he said as he replaced the cordless phone on the table.
“What’s wrong?”
“The police raided a house outside of town and found a puppy mill in the backyard. I’m not going to go into detail, but it’s pretty bad. They need my help, Abby. I know it’s going to take tonight and most of tomorrow to treat the most critically ill animals. Unless I can get another vet to come in …”
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