Duplicity

by Ingrid Thoft

  “Sorry I interrupted.”

  “It’s fine.” She took a step, herding Fina out.

  “Thanks. If you think of anything, let me know,” Fina said, handing Christa her card.

  Fina knew that information had to be viewed through the lens of the person providing it. You could never take a character evaluation at face value; the trick was ferreting out the bias or the agenda of the interviewee.

  More often than not, though, people painted a rosier picture of the deceased than was warranted. That hadn’t been the case in this conversation, and Fina had to wonder why.

  • • •

  Fina contemplated her options on the Natick Mall directory. She’d been instructed to provide her own lunch for her meeting with Lucas Chellew, and though the choices were varied, they all promised to raise her cholesterol. She settled on a specialty French fry place and took her bag of greasy fries and a diet soda into the Misses’ department at Macy’s. A sales associate directed her through a set of swinging doors into a windowless office off a long hallway.

  Lucas Chellew sat behind his desk, studying his computer screen. Fina knocked on the door to get his attention.

  “Mr. Chellew? I’m Fina Ludlow. We spoke on the phone.”

  “Of course, Miss Ludlow. Come on in.”

  “Please call me Fina.”

  “And you should call me Lucas. Let me just grab my lunch,” he said, coming from behind his desk and ducking out of the room.

  Fina took the only available chair, a stiff-backed one with a nubby seat, and studied the room. It looked like a cross between an office and a storeroom. Shelves were filled with boxes overflowing with clothing in plastic bags, and hanging racks were packed tightly with dresses. A pile of overstuffed binders threatened to topple off a credenza, and the bulletin board behind the desk was a flurry of notices. A stack of sales circulars occupied one corner of his desk.

  “I apologize it’s such a mess in here,” Lucas said. He was carrying a brown paper bag and a large water bottle.

  “No need to apologize. You’ve got a lot to keep track of.”

  “I do, and just when I clean things out, I get a whole new load of stuff to deal with.” Once seated, he pulled out three plastic bags. One held a sandwich, another baby carrots, and the third, pretzel sticks.

  Fina reached into her greasy bag for the cardboard container of French fries drizzled with ranch dressing. Lucas looked forlornly at her lunch.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “It looks like you’re following a healthy eating plan.”

  “Healthy and boring.” Lucas bit into his sandwich, a curled edge of lettuce peeking out between the bread and turkey.

  “You’re welcome to some fries.” Fina held the bag toward him. “Although I feel a little badly tempting you, especially in light of Pastor Greg’s sermon on Sunday.”

  Lucas bit into a carrot with a loud crunch. Fina didn’t like raw carrots. She didn’t think there should be any overlap between her diet and that of a horse.

  “It’s okay. Just another test. Life is full of them.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” she said, savoring a crispy fry. “How’d you get into retail?”

  “Right out of college, I got a job working for a consumer goods manufacturer in Baltimore. I was transferred up here after a few years, and when we were acquired, I got this job with Macy’s. My wife and daughters like the employee discount.”

  “How old are your kids?”

  “Twelve and fourteen. They’re thick as thieves, and the discount is the only thing that makes me useful in their eyes. You got any sisters?”

  Fina shook her head. “Just brothers.”

  “Your father’s lucky. Teenage girls are the worst.”

  Fina smiled. “My brothers’ teenage behavior would suggest otherwise.” She really wished people would move on from the idea that all boys were one way and all girls were another. All of her brothers had penises, but Rand couldn’t be more different from the other two.

  “I realize this is a difficult time for you, given your fellow congregant’s death.” Fina knew no such thing, but decided to throw it against the wall to see if it would stick.

  “It’s a tragedy. My heart is broken.” Lucas bowed his head in what appeared to be a show of reverence.

  “I’m sure it is,” Fina said.

  “Is that what you wanted to speak to me about?” Lucas asked, digging into the bag for some pretzel sticks.

  “I wanted to speak with you about Chloe Renard.”

  “Chloe’s a great gal.” He took a long drink from his water bottle, the kind you refill throughout the day. “Did you say you’re a lawyer?”

  “I work for a lawyer. I’m just performing some due diligence on the proposed real estate deal between the church and Chloe Renard.”

  Lucas frowned. “Proposed? I thought it was pretty much a done deal.”

  “There are some details that still have to be worked out. Deals are never really done until the final paperwork is signed, right?”

  “I suppose.”

  “So you’re on the church leadership committee?” Fina asked. She chewed on a ranch-drenched fry, not sure if she liked the flavor combination. She’d have to eat more before rendering a verdict.

  “Yes. It’s one of my many responsibilities,” he said, taking a bite of sandwich.

  Fina nodded. “Chloe said you’re very involved at CRC.”

  “The church is very important to me and my family. It’s an extension of my family, really.”

  “Does the leadership committee make decisions about the church’s finances or just serve in an advisory capacity?”

  Lucas shifted in his seat. “I don’t mean to be rude, Fina, but the church isn’t required to disclose its financial dealings to anyone, including the government.”

  “Absolutely, but I don’t work for the government.” She took a long drink to buy a little time. “I’m sorry. I must have misunderstood. I was under the impression that Covenant Rising was happy to share any information that would keep the bequest on track.”

  “Well, of course.” He looked around the room. It was hard to be helpful and contrarian at the same moment. “I’m wondering if the person you should be speaking to is Pastor Greg, not me.”

  Fina wiped her fingers on a napkin. “I am speaking with him, but Chloe also suggested I speak with you.”

  “I wish I could help you, but you understand that I can’t talk about financial details with just anyone.”

  What a bunch of bull honky, but Fina chose to eat a French fry rather than voice this thought. “Of course. I understand.”

  She wondered why Lucas had agreed to meet with her in the first place, but his reasoning soon became apparent. As they finished their lunch, he spent the next ten minutes sharing the good word and proselytizing.

  Poor Lucas.

  If he’d had even a hint of the hard case sitting across from him, he wouldn’t have wasted his breath.

  TWELVE

  Covenant Rising was a beehive of activity when Fina arrived. There was a noisy group of preschoolers engaged in some activity with a parachute in a room off the lobby, and the band was rehearsing in the parish hall.

  Fina found her way to the administrative offices at the back of the building, where Betty, Pastor Greg’s assistant, was fishing a crumpled piece of paper from the innards of the copy machine. The door to what Fina assumed was Pastor Greg’s office was closed.

  “I’m here to see Pastor Greg,” Fina said. “I’m Fina Ludlow.”

  Betty slammed a compartment closed on the machine and returned to her desk, where she consulted her computer screen. “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No. I was hoping to catch him in.”

  “Well,” she said, sighing. “He’s quite busy this afternoon.”

  “I know,” Fina
said, and dipped her head. “I just really needed to speak with him.”

  Betty consulted the screen again.

  “Forget it,” Fina said, turning away. “It’s fine.”

  “No, no,” Betty said, her charitable Christian spirit kicking in. “I don’t want to leave you hanging. Give me a minute to see what I can do.”

  The secretary rapped on the door. She was summoned and ducked into the room, closing the door behind her.

  “He doesn’t have much time,” she said, emerging a minute later.

  “It won’t take long,” Fina said. “Thank you.” She tried to look grateful and desperate, neither of which came easily.

  Pastor Greg’s office looked comfortable, but slightly run-down and untidy, like the space of someone who had better things to do than organize and clean. Fina closed the door behind her.

  “What can I do for you, young lady?” Greg asked from behind his desk.

  That was rich considering he was, at most, ten years older than Fina.

  She raised an eyebrow in response and took a seat in a worn chair facing his desk.

  “Betty said you needed some counsel,” he added.

  “That’s a fair statement,” Fina admitted. “I wondered if you were aware of the newest information regarding Nadine Quaynor’s death.”

  Greg hung his head for a moment. “I’m aware that there was an evil force at work, yes.”

  “Well, certainly an evil person,” Fina said.

  “Where there is an evil person, there is an evil force, Fina. Satan works through us.”

  She felt a twinge of irritation. “If you say so. Do you have any idea who might be doing Satan’s dirty work?”

  Greg looked surprised. “Why would I know?”

  “Because Nadine spent a lot of time at the church, and her social circle consisted mostly of fellow congregants. She wasn’t killed by a stranger.”

  “The police know who killed her?”

  “No, but with the exception of tainted Tylenol capsules in Chicago, people aren’t poisoned by strangers.”

  Greg squinted as if she had gone out of focus. “I don’t like what you’re suggesting.”

  “Of course you don’t. Who wants to believe that the devil is at work in his community?”

  “What does this have to do with Chloe Renard?”

  “You’re a savvy man, Pastor Greg. You had to know that the suspicious death of one of your congregants would lead to questions and give some members of the community pause.”

  He smiled. “Chloe Renard’s mother is not a member of our community.”

  Fina stood and rested her hands on the back of the chair. “You know what’s interesting? Watching how people and communities react when the chips are down. Closing ranks may seem like a good strategy, but it usually backfires.”

  “Did you learn that from your family?” Greg asked, bitterness slipping through the facade.

  “I sure did. I’m speaking from years of experience. Let me know if you decide you want to talk.” She opened the door. “Thank you for speaking with me, Pastor. I feel so much better,” she said for Betty’s benefit.

  • • •

  Fina arrived at Frank and Peg’s to find them in the living room. Peg was typing on a laptop, and Frank was reading. Fina tried to imagine her parents in the same room, coexisting in companionable silence. Nope, couldn’t picture it.

  “Is this a bad time?” she asked, wondering what she’d do if they ever said yes.

  “Of course not, sweetie,” Peg said. “How are you?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “There are snacks in the kitchen if you’re hungry,” Frank said, which earned him the hairy eyeball from Peg.

  “Are you on pantry patrol?” Fina asked, smiling.

  “I had some of my coworkers over the other night, and they were kind enough to bring some treats, which he is not supposed to eat,” Peg said. She was a middle school nurse, a job that gave Fina the willies. Was there anything worse than dealing with teenagers and puke? Give her a dangerous felon any day.

  “Thanks, but I’m not hungry. This may seem like an odd question,” she said, taking a seat on the couch, “but do you have any antifreeze?”

  “You having car troubles?” Frank asked.

  “Yes, now that you mention it, but that isn’t why I’m asking.”

  He looked out the front window. “What happened to your car?”

  “If you must know, my car was vandalized so I’m borrowing a fleet car.”

  “Where was it vandalized?”

  Fina avoided his gaze. “In my garage.”

  “Your secure garage?”

  “The very one.”

  Frank shook his head.

  “Please, Frank. No lectures. I promise I’m on top of it.”

  Peg watched the two of them, but didn’t speak.

  “Any idea who’s responsible?” he asked.

  “I’m working on it.”

  “So why do you need antifreeze?”

  “I don’t, I just wondered how typical it is that people have it in their homes these days.”

  “You shouldn’t have it anywhere there are children and pets,” Peg said. “It can be lethal.”

  “It killed the victim of the case I’m working on.”

  “The thirty-two-year-old?” Frank asked.

  Fina nodded.

  “People need it for their cars,” he said, “and they use it to winterize second homes, to make sure that the pipes don’t freeze. I’m sure I’ve got some in the garage.”

  “I was just curious.”

  “Is this Cristian’s case, too?”

  “Yes, but it was my case first. I was investigating the church where the victim worships, and I found her body.”

  “I’m sure Cristian finds that to be a very compelling argument for your involvement.” Frank grinned.

  “Okay, of course it’s his case, being a cop and all, but we’ve worked on the same cases before.”

  “How does he feel about his girlfriend working on the same case?” Peg asked.

  “We’re not using that word yet. We’re not even exclusive, as far as I can tell.”

  “You sure he knows that?” Frank asked.

  “Can we please talk about something more pleasant? Like an autopsy?”

  Frank chuckled. “Oh, sweetie. Your life is very complicated.”

  “I know, and I am not happy about that.”

  “Is it too much to ask you to stay safe?” he wondered.

  “It’s not too much to ask, but I’m not in charge of the universe, Frank. I’ll do what I can.”

  “That’s not the least bit reassuring.”

  “Stop worrying,” Fina said. “It’s bad for your heart.”

  • • •

  “When do I get to meet this mystery woman?” Fina sat on Matthew’s office couch, nursing a diet soda.

  Matthew was sitting next to her, his feet propped on the coffee table. Her brother looked like he didn’t have a care in the world, though she knew that wasn’t the case. With the exception of Elaine—who made her feelings everyone’s business—the Ludlows were well trained in hiding their emotions. It was one of the reasons they made good lawyers and, in Fina’s case, a good investigator. Their poker faces were exemplary.

  “Sydney. You’ll meet Sydney soon.”

  “Have you introduced her to anyone else in the family?” Historically, the Ludlow children waited as long as possible before introducing prospective mates to the rest of the clan. They could be an intimidating bunch, and one wanted to be sure the relationship had legs before subjecting it to the rest of the family.

  “Scotty and Patty.”

  “And?”

  “It went well.”

  “Glad to hear it. Has he filled you in on my p
lan?” Fina asked.

  “Your investigation of our brother?”

  “The very one.”

  “It sounds a little nuts to me.”

  Fina shrugged.

  “What have you got so far?” he asked.

  “I spoke with the woman he ‘allegedly’ attacked in college. It was not pretty.”

  “You think he did it?”

  “Yes. I know he molested Haley, and that’s worse than raping a peer as far as I’m concerned. Date rape seems like a gateway offense compared to molestation.”

  “Did this woman give you more to go on?”

  “She gave me another name, but that woman lives in New Zealand, and it’s not really a conversation you want to have over the phone. I’m holding off contacting her for the time being.”

  Matthew closed his eyes and leaned his head against the couch. “This sucks.”

  “I agree.”

  “So what’s next if you’re not pursuing the New Zealand angle?”

  “I found some of Rand’s college photos, and I’m trying to identify the women in the pictures. They might have a story to tell.”

  “Where did you find the photos?”

  “In his house.”

  Matthew peered at her. “When were you at his house?”

  “I don’t think you really want the details.”

  “Promise me you’ll be careful,” he said, shaking his head.

  “I’m always careful.”

  “I seem to recall the two of us being chased by a drug dealer not so long ago when you were ‘being careful.’”

  Fina punched him lightly on the arm and rose from the couch. “Chased is a bit of an exaggeration.”

  “Fina,” Matthew said, prompting her to pause at the door. “You don’t think it was an isolated case?”

  “What?”

  “Rand’s college acquaintance.”

  She shook her head. “Not a chance.”

  • • •

  “Teo, you need to eat two more beans.” Cristian gave his son a stare that was usually reserved for hardened criminals. Fina had joined the Menendez duo for dinner, and it was proving to be a tortured affair.