by Louise Clark
"Well," Christy said. She was more shaken by that quiet family moment and what it meant to her daughter than she had expected.
Roy found the corkscrew and began to pour into the glasses Quinn had provided. Christy covered her emotional moment by stirring the chili, while the men passed around the wineglasses and settled at the table. Christy stayed on the cooking side of the counter and listened as Quinn began to talk.
"Nathan DeBolt may be many things, but I don't think a murderer is amongst them," he said. He put his elbows on the table and studied his wineglass as he made small circles on the maple surface with the base. "He was remarkably forthcoming. I think he wanted to talk."
"I am not surprised," Ellen said. "I have never thought Nathan anything but a very respectable man."
Respectable wasn't exactly how Christy would describe anyone in the DeBolt family, but she wasn't about to argue with Ellen, not at that moment. "Did he say why he visited Aaron just before Brittany's death?"
"He went to apologize for not believing in his son's innocence. At that point it looked like the alibi would stand and Aaron would be released. He decided his act of contrition would have more impact if he made it before Aaron was freed rather than once Aaron was out."
Wouldn't have made a difference. All Aaron cares about is money and his father isn't supplying it. The voice sounded sleepy, lazy, and contented. On Ellen's lap, the cat still purred.
Quinn continued on, unaware Frank had commented. "Aaron's reaction was not what Nathan hoped for. Instead of a reconciliation, Aaron sneered. They argued. When Aaron was released, it was Natalie who went to the jail to pick him up. Nathan stayed away."
"Did he see his son while Aaron was free?" Roy asked.
Quinn shook his head. "The first thing Aaron did after his release was to go out clubbing. He got drunk or high and made—in his father's words—a public spectacle of himself. Nathan was not impressed."
"Does Nathan have alibis for the two killings?" Trevor asked.
Quinn nodded. "Pretty strong ones, I think. On the morning Brittany was killed, he was catching an early flight. He was at the airport and already through the security check at the time of her death."
"And the night Peiling was killed?" Trevor asked.
"An emergency board meeting. He wouldn't go into details about why the meeting had been called, but it included all the senior executives in his company as well as a half a dozen outside board members, all men with impeccable reputations. The meeting didn't break up until after nine."
"And Peiling was dead by then. This is very interesting," Roy said with considerable relish. "So you think we can eliminate Nathan DeBolt as one of our suspects?"
"Nathan should never have been a suspect," Ellen said. "He is not the kind of man who would ever kill someone."
Quinn said quietly, "In normal circumstances Nathan DeBolt is capable of almost anything he sets his mind to, but right now he is a broken man." There was compassion in his voice. "He said that Natalie was at the police station with Aaron. I think Aaron's re-arrest has left him shocked and, well, almost devastated, as if he couldn't process it all."
"Surprising, considering his son was charged in Frank's murder before. Why would he be shocked?" Trevor frowned as he shook his head. "Disappointed, sure, but devastated? I can't see it."
Quinn shrugged. "That's how he seemed to me."
"Perhaps it's not just Aaron's re-arrest," Christy said. "I think he's more upset about—"
The doorbell rang. Roy glanced at his watch. "Who could that be? It's almost six o'clock."
"Oh hell," Christy said. Her eyes locked with Quinn's. There was a flutter in her stomach that had nothing to do with sexual attraction as she saw the startled dismay in his expression.
"Shively," they both said at the same moment.
Chapter 28
A houseful of people, most of whom were drinking wine and talking about murder. Two kids in the basement unsupervised by said adults. Was this enough for child services to remove a child from the care of her mother?
Christy drew a deep breath, gave herself a mental head slap, and told herself to get a spine. Shively could threaten. She could posture. But she couldn't take Noelle away just because the child was playing with a friend safely in her own home.
And, while the other adults in her kitchen were drinking wine, Christy had not yet touched a drop. She planned to, but Shively didn't know that.
The bell rang again. Three times in rapid succession.
Ms. Shively was getting antsy.
"Who is it, Mom?" Noelle shouted from the basement.
Christy reached the landing and looked down the stairs at Noelle, who was standing at the bottom. "I think it's Ms. Shively doing a checkup. Best manners now."
Noelle nodded. Christy drew herself up straighter and lifted her chin. Then she opened the door.
The person on the other side was indeed Joan Shively, standing with her finger on the bell, about to start another series of impatient jabs.
"Ms. Shively," Christy said. She made no effort to invite the woman in.
Shively pursed her lips and looked annoyed. "Mrs. Jamieson. I am here to do a home visit."
Christy raised her brows. "It's almost six o'clock. I was about to put dinner on the table."
Shively frowned. "Dinner at six o'clock? Surely it's rather late for that. I would have expected you would have ensured Noelle had eaten by now."
Was she kidding? Temper flared and put a snap in Christy's tone as she replied. "Have you fed your children, yet?"
Shively reddened. "I did not have your home scheduled for today, so I had to fit it in. Which is why I am running so late. I can assure you that normally I have my family's dinner on the table by five thirty at the latest."
Well, good for you, Christy thought. She was saved from blurting out that comment by Noelle who charged up the stairs to the landing, with Mary in tow.
Studiously polite, Noelle said, "Hello, Ms. Shively. Have you met my friend, Mary Petrofsky? She is in my class at school."
Shively dragged her gaze away from Christy and allowed a thin smile to replace her frown. "Hello, Noelle. It is nice to meet you, Mary."
"Mary is staying for dinner tonight," Noelle said. "I heard Mom say it's almost ready, so Mary and I are going upstairs to wash our hands."
Bless you, Noelle, Christy thought, as the two girls continued up the stairs. There was a powder room in the basement, fully stocked with soap and towels, which Noelle and Mary could have used. By heading upstairs to the main bathroom, and mentioning their purpose on her way there, Noelle had brought it to Shively's attention. The woman would have to give Christy full credit for teaching her daughter good hygiene habits. Hopefully, it would counter the late dinner disapproval.
"I not only have Noelle's friend, Mary, here, but also some other people," Christy said. She moved away from the door. Shively stepped inside.
"I will endeavor to intrude as little as possible."
Yeah, right, Christy thought. She gestured to the basement. "You may as well start at the bottom and move up. Please note that Noelle and Mary have been playing there for most of the afternoon. I ask Noelle to pick up after herself, and she respects that, but she's only eight. The room might not be perfectly tidy."
She left Shively to poke around in the basement and headed back upstairs. She found Noelle and Mary in the kitchen. Both kids were patting Stormy, who was still on Ellen's lap.
Mary was saying earnestly to Ellen, "I didn't like that lady. She has a scary face."
Ellen, still learning how to be a supportive adult in a child's life, looked taken aback at Mary's disclosure, but after a moment said, "She may look frightening, but that is just her way. She may not know how to be friendly to little girls."
Good one, Aunt Ellen. The cat stood up and stretched, arching his back and shooting his tail straight up so that it quivered. He jumped down and sauntered toward the living room. I'll just go keep an eye on her.
Noelle's fac
e lit up. "So will I. Come on, Mary!"
"Where are we going?" Mary asked, even as she followed Noelle out of the kitchen.
"Where are they going?" Ellen asked as the two girls and the cat disappeared into the other room.
"They are scouting out the enemy," Roy said. He grinned. "I hope Shively isn't allergic to cats."
"I hope she is," Christy said, annoyed. "I hate it that she figures she can come in here and snoop around my house just because my name is in the news again. I've already proven to her that the allegations against me are false. What more does the damned woman want?"
"Good thing I'm here," Trevor said. He looked pleased by the idea of doing battle with child services and Joan Shively in particular.
There was the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs, then a thump, as if someone stumbled on one of the stairs.
"Stormy!" they heard Noelle say. "You need to be careful! I'm sorry, Ms. Shively. Our cat is very friendly. He likes people to pat him. That's why he was so close to your feet. He wants you to notice him."
Christy choked and put her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. Quinn chuckled quietly while Roy and Trevor each grinned. Ellen murmured, "That cat!"
They heard Shively say, "There, I've patted the animal. I hope that satisfies it."
"Him," Noelle said, chattily. "Stormy's a him. He's part of our family. Come on, Mary. Let's show Ms. Shively my room. I clean it up every day and I make my bed every morning. It's perfect!"
Light running footsteps sounded on the stairs going up, followed by slower, heavier adult ones.
Christy gave way to the giggles that had been consuming her. "Man, I love that kid," she said to no one in particular.
After a moment Ellen said, "She is very special."
It was amazing how very liberating laughter could be. As her giggles tailed off, Christy said, "And she likes having you here."
That made Ellen's features brighten with pleasure.
Children's footsteps, tearing down the stairs, sounded, again followed more slowly by adult ones. Noelle, accompanied by Mary, bounded into the kitchen. Mary's face was pink and she looked like she'd just had a taste of forbidden fruit. And liked it. Noelle's expression was sober, but there was that telltale twinkle in her eyes that told Christy that she was enjoying herself hugely. "Ms. Shively looked everywhere upstairs, Mom."
"Everywhere?"
Noelle nodded just as there was another thump on the stairs. This time they all heard Shively say, "Damn cat!"
Mary's eyes widened until they were as round as the "O" her mouth was making at Shively's use of a swear word.
Serves you right for poking through my wife's lingerie.
Noelle's eyes lit with amusement and she grinned. "Ms. Shively opened the drawers in the bathroom, Mom. And the ones in your bureau. She said she'd never seen so many socks. And Stormy sat in your underwear drawer when she said your stuff was totally in... inappropiate. What does inappropiate mean, Mom?"
"She looked in my panties drawer?" Christy's voice rose as outrage burned through her.
"Inappropriate underwear." That was Quinn and he sounded both amused and impressed.
Christy flushed red as Ellen said, "How dare she?!" and Shively stumbled into the kitchen. Herded there, it seemed, by the cat.
"You had no right to go through my things!" Christy said, fury making her body hot. She was so angry she wasn't even trying to be conciliatory.
"I was looking for drugs," Shively said. There was an edge of belligerence in her tone, but the expression in her eyes was wary.
Christy took a step back. "Drugs? I don't use drugs. I never have and I never will!"
The cat, who had been sitting on one of Shively's feet, now stood up on his hind legs and reached for her thigh. Stormy was a big cat, nearly twenty pounds and a good three feet long when stretched to his full length. His front paws reached nearly to Shively's pelvic area when he stood on his hind legs. In a lazy movement he dug his claws into the polyester of her pant leg and clung.
Shively freaked. "Get it off me!" she screamed as she backed up in a fruitless attempt to escape.
Stormy's claws were anchored tight. As Shively stumbled backward and the cat stayed put, there was an ominous tearing sound.
Christy dove for the cat. Angry as she was at Shively, she didn't want Stormy hurt. She knew that Frank meant only the best and that he was protecting her in the only way he could, but there were limits.
She scooped him up, disengaging his claws, as Shively started to babble. "He's a cat, Ms. Shively. He was only being friendly. How was Stormy to know you were afraid of cats?"
"That animal is a vicious beast! It needs to be put down."
Stormy wiggled in Christy's arms and she put him onto the floor where he sat, eyes on Shively.
"Don't be ridiculous," Ellen said. "You have been acting quite inappropriately—that is how you pronounce the word, Noelle, and it means unacceptable behavior—since you arrived in this house. My niece is a young woman who loves her child and will do anything to ensure she has a happy and safe life. I can see absolutely—and that is another very good word, Noelle, it means without restrictions—no reason for you to be pawing through her private drawers."
"Wow," Christy said.
Shively straightened and, torn trousers and all, launched herself into battle. "You!" She jabbed a finger at Ellen. "Have been accused of murdering a lovely young woman who was guilty of nothing but—"
"Being a drug addict and having sex in public places," Quinn finished for her.
Brought up short by his statement, Shively stared at him. "Excuse me?"
"The woman you were talking about," Quinn said mildly. "I was just filling you in on what kind of person she was. Don't get me wrong," he added as Shively opened her mouth to protest. "She didn't deserve to die. But I can't gloss over the reality of who she was when she was alive."
"A good point," Trevor said. "I have to add that I can make a good case for overzealous conduct on your part, Ms. Shively. You have no cause to go through anyone's drawers in this household. And you have no evidence, beyond unsubstantiated hearsay, that Mrs. Jamieson has ever indulged in narcotics or any other kind of mood-altering substance."
Roy, who was never one to let propriety get in the way, toasted Shively with his half-drunk glass of wine and said, "Time to go, Ms. Shively."
The cat brushed up against Shively's leg and she jumped. He looked up at her, green eyes gleaming.
"Yes," she said. "Perhaps you are right." She shot Christy a look that was hard to interpret. "I will be in touch."
Christy let her show herself out. She was still trembling with outrage and she didn't want to have to endure a private moment with the woman. She wasn't sure what she might say.
As the door slammed, Mary Petrofsky, still wide-eyed, said, "Wow, Noelle. Your family is really cool."
"I know," Noelle said, and beamed.
Chapter 29
As the sound of the door closing echoed through the house, Christy poured herself a large glass of wine.
"We're going back downstairs," Noelle said.
"Okay. I'll call you when dinner's on the table." Christy rounded the peninsula counter and sat down with the others. She took a slug of wine, then said with a sigh, "I'm going to have to wash everything in my dresser."
"Especially your lingerie," Ellen said. She shuddered dramatically, "Since the cat sat on it."
That was Stormy's idea. He likes open drawers. He just hopped in there before I could think of how to stop the old bi... witch, and stretched out. He hoped she'd rub his belly, but she didn't cooperate. She didn't have a chance to dig through that drawer, but she did do a pretty thorough search through your socks.
"Good for Stormy," Christy said as the cat jumped up onto her lap and circled, looking for a comfortable spot to curl up. "I'd rather have him sitting in my lingerie than Shively pawing through it." She scratched him behind his ears, then, when he was settled, gave him the belly rub Shively had denied h
im.
Stormy purred loudly. Christy drank more wine and turned to Ellen. "Thank you for defending me."
Ellen looked at her for a long moment, then she said, "We have had our differences, Christy, but you are a Jamieson. I regret some of the actions I have taken in the past. I can see now how devoted you are to Noelle." She smiled faintly. "And just how much energy you put into raising that child. You don't deserve that woman's accusations."
"Neither do you," Christy said, looking steadily at Ellen. "I apologize for letting myself be worried over what Shively might think."
Ellen waved her hand in a dismissive way. "It doesn't matter."
"We were all manipulated by a master," Christy said. "Me, Shively, Detective Patterson. She did it so beautifully that we were all taken in."
Ellen frowned. "Who are you talking about?"
"Natalie DeBolt," Quinn said. He was sitting straighter, watching Christy with bright, considering eyes. He'd figured it out too.
Christy smiled at him. "Yeah. Natalie. She pretended that she and Ellen were lovers so the cops would think that the motive behind Brittany's killing was an affair gone wrong."
"What? Natalie? She's not gay!" Ellen said, looking shocked.
"No, she's not. Nathan DeBolt told me that early on," Quinn said. "He laughed when I suggested she might be involved with a woman. He implied she was a cougar who liked to do more than look at younger men. But there had to be a reason for Brittany's body to be found at your condo, Ellen. Sex was the easiest explanation."
"And one the police wouldn't look much beyond," Christy said. "Especially when there was no obvious link between Ellen and Brittany."
Trevor nodded. "Go for the tried-and-true. Sex, money, and revenge."
"Don't forget love," Christy said quietly. "Brittany was murdered for love."
By this time Ellen was staring at Christy as if she had started speaking in tongues. And perhaps to Ellen, she had. "Are you saying that Natalie DeBolt murdered Brittany Day and Jacob Peiling?"