Lydia didn’t hold Daniel’s behavior against him. He probably regretted having shared what he’d told her, and didn’t want to risk her asking questions. At any rate, he was entitled to enjoy his birthday party without worry. She’d wait a few days then bring up the subject with him in private.
Caroline and Benny came for her at a quarter to seven. She greeted them and her closest Twin Lakes friend, Barbara Taylor, already ensconced in the rear seat of the Liebermans’ car.
“Don’t you look stunning!” Benny commented.
“Well, thank you,” Lydia said.
Slowly, Benny backed out of the driveway. “Lucky me, escorting the three loveliest ladies to Daniel’s party.”
“Watch that car speeding toward us!” his wife warned, “or none of us will get there in one piece.”
“Yes, dear,” Benny answered.
Caroline, a tall, lanky brunette whose tan and wrinkled face attested to her many years of playing golf, bent over to kiss his cheek. “There’s only one woman you’re escorting, and that’s me.”
“Yes, dear.”
“Don’t worry about us, Benny,” Barbara teased. “Lydia and I are sure to hook up with some good-looking friends of Daniel’s before the evening’s over.” Petite and slender, and a widow like Lydia, she appeared to be many years younger than a woman approaching the Age of Medicare.
“Lydia, why didn’t you bring Detective Molina along?” Benny asked as they exited Twin Lakes. “I noticed his car outside your house the other afternoon.”
Lydia felt her face redden, but before she could answer Caroline was chiding her husband again. “Benny, watch out for that truck!”
Benny took the hint and dropped the subject. As they turned onto the main road, he said, “The police say we can resume work on Monday. They’ve investigated the land around the root cellar, but haven’t found anything to give them clues about the body.”
“Glad to hear it,” Lydia said, though Sol had told her this the day before. Caroline turned around to stare pointedly at the Bertran’s gift bag Lydia had placed on the seat between Barbara and her. “I see you’ve disregarded the invitation’s ‘no gifts, please’ and bought Daniel a present.”
“It’s only a box of his favorite chocolates,” Barbara explained.
Benny laughed. “Admit it, Caroline. We have a gag gift in the trunk.”
“Much as we try, we can’t break the habit of bringing a present to a birthday party,” Caroline admitted.
Minutes later they drove up the winding road that led to Carrington House. The stone manor house, built by a rich entrepreneur in the early twentieth century, sat atop a crest, behind which flowed a two-tiered bluestone patio and an extensive lawn, bounded by woods on each side. They followed the road to the parking area, passing azalea and rhododendron bushes bursting with red and purple blossoms. Lydia smiled as they climbed the wide stairs rising to the front entrance. Though she worked here three days a week, she never failed to admire the graceful lines of the mansion enhanced by its perfect setting.
She winked at Thomas, the evening manager, who showed them into the small cloakroom to the left of the entrance. Lydia and Benny placed Daniel’s birthday presents on a table beside other gift-wrapped boxes. Clearly, they weren’t the only guests to ignore the “no gifts” request.
From there, Thomas ushered then into a high-ceilinged, tastefully decorated salon, its trio of floor-to-ceiling windows allowing the last rays of sun to filter through the sheer curtains. A harpist played softly in the corner while young servers circulated among the thirty or so guests, offering champagne and hors d’oeuvres. Lydia, finding herself separated from her friends, reached for a glass of champagne. She sipped, exchanged greetings with a Twin Lakes couple, and then went in search of her host and hostess.
Evelyn and Daniel stood welcoming their guests beside a brocade sofa in the center of the room. They made an elegant couple: Evelyn in a pale green satin gown that set off her salon-coiffed, auburn hair; Daniel, tall and dashing in a tuxedo.
Lydia kissed them both. “What a wonderful party, Evelyn. Happy birthday, Daniel. And many, many more.”
They embraced her warmly. Daniel slipped an arm about her waist.
“Thank you, Lydia. You’re one of our favorites, and we’re delighted you’re celebrating with us.” He grinned and lowered his voice. “Stay tuned to the big announcement later on.”
Evelyn reached inside her beaded purse and slipped a ring on her finger. She extended her left hand to show Lydia the sparkling diamond. At least three carets, Lydia surmised, in an exquisite modern platinum setting.
“It’s beautiful! Congratulations, both of you. I wish the two of you every happiness.”
“Thank you, my dear,” Daniel said, looking past her, “but please keep it to yourself for the time being.”
“Certainly,” Lydia murmured, watching Evelyn return the ring to her purse. She was puzzled. Surely others must have noticed this display. But she had no time to wonder about it, because a flurry of people were descending on Daniel, hugging him and nodding to Evelyn. Lydia started to move away, when Daniel called after her.
“Lydia, come and meet my children!”
“With pleasure,” she said, though she would have much preferred to leave Daniel to his family. She knew and liked his youngest daughter, but the older two—Evelyn had confided—were bad news.
Daniel made the introductions, his hand resting on the sloped shoulder of the fifty-something, balding man in glasses who stood beside him. “This is my son, Arnold; his wife, Madge.” He presented their two children and their spouses, whose names Lydia quickly forgot. “And my favorite great-granddaughter, Elizabeth.”
“Your only great-grandchild, Poppy,” the ten-year-old informed him.
Everyone laughed. Lydia, knowing Daniel’s son and his offspring had rented a van so they could all travel together from New Jersey, asked about their drive to Long Island. To her dismay, Arnold told her in detail how bad the traffic had been on the Garden State Parkway and the George Washington Bridge, and of the accident on the Cross Bronx Expressway. Before he could complain about the traffic pattern on the Long Island Expressway, his daughter, Carolee, a younger, prettier version of her matronly mother, interrupted.
“We’re here, Dad, that’s what’s important. Let’s focus on the positive.”
Her father scowled, but, before he could respond, Daniel declared, “Denise and Bennett have arrived!”
“Hi, everyone.” Denise had a smoker’s raspy voice. She was tall like her father, but gaunt enough so that her collarbone jutted out unbecomingly above her low-cut dress. The deep tan on her face and arms came from either a very long beach vacation or a tanning salon. She emitted the stale odor of tobacco. Daniel wrinkled his nose as his daughter hugged him.
“Hello, Denise. I thought you were giving up the habit.”
“I’m tapering off.” Her dark eyes glanced around the room until she spotted one of the servers in a far corner. “Be back as soon as I get myself a drink.”
“Bring me one, Mom,” Bennett said, squeezing his mother’s arm in a way that made Lydia cringe—though she wasn’t quite sure why. “Something strong.”
Lydia was certain she’d seen Daniel’s grandson before, probably when he’d come to visit his grandfather. Bennett appeared to be in his early thirties and, but for a weak chin, would have had the good looks of a dark Adonis. She adores him and spoils him, Lydia decided, watching Denise kiss her son’s cheek then dash off to do his bidding.
Bennett slapped Daniel on the back. “Hey there, Grandpa! You look great for a guy getting up there in years.”
Daniel winced. “Thanks, Bennett. Did you say hello to Evelyn?”
Bennett raised a finger to Evelyn and offered her a weak smile, then turned his back to chat with his cousins.
“I see you’ve met the family,” Barbara said when Lydia joined her at a tiny round table for four in the adjoining room.
“Mmm,” Lydia answered, ni
bbling a buffalo chicken wing. “They’re as bad as Evelyn said they were. The son’s a kvetch, the daughter’s the nervous anorexic type that smokes and drinks, and her son thinks he’s God’s gift to humanity.”
“All that in five minutes,” Barbara murmured. “You are becoming quite the sleuth.”
Lydia rolled her eyes. “If running a company didn’t teach me to size up people on the spot, I’d have been in deep you-know-what.”
“True enough,” Barbara agreed.
“Getting back on topic, I’m glad Daniel has Polly close by,” Lydia said, referring to his youngest child who lived in the same development as Meredith and her family, a five-minute drive from Twin Lakes.
Barbara nodded. “They have a loving father-daughter relationship.”
For the next few minutes, they concentrated on polishing off the appetizers they’d collected at the serving table. After Lydia devoured the last morsel of food on her plate, she stood and threw back her shoulders. “Be right back. I’m after sushi this time. You can take it from me, it’s fresh and it’s terrific.”
“Everything’s terrific!” Caroline said as she and Benny joined them.
The sushi bar was proving popular, but Jimmy, one of Lydia’s favorite waiters, beckoned to her and handed her pincers. Lydia grinned as she filled a small plate with pieces of yellow fin tuna, salmon, eel, and slivers of ginger. It always helps to know the help.
She stopped en route to her table as Polly and her husband approached, flanking one of their daughters, as though she was a bride. Not that anyone would take Gillian for a bride. Her getup was more suited for a bordello. Her hair, dyed a garish orange-red, stood up in half-inch spikes. Thigh-high black boots revealed a flash of black tights before the black Lycra dress began and soon ended in a deep v-neckline. Gillian’s thick eye liner—more decoration than makeup—gave her cats’ eyes, which set off her one enormous purple hoop earring and diamond nose stud. All she needed was a whip, Lydia thought, and she’d make the perfect dominatrix.
Nicole, Gillian’s twin, followed the trio wrapped arm in arm with a young man. He wore a black jacket over a black polo and black jeans. His unkempt hair and three days’ beard contrasted sharply with the appearance of the other guests. Nicole was dressed in a short frilly skirt and gypsy-styled satin white blouse, her long blonde mane rippling down her back. The good twin and the bad twin, Lydia mused, then berated herself for the unkind thought.
She walked up to Polly, who was blonde like Nicole and looked considerably younger than her forty-five years. Tonight she wore a fitted, flower-print dress that showed off her slender figure.
“Polly, Matt, how nice to see you on this happiest of occasions. And Nicole and Gillian.”
Matt, a successful real estate lawyer, bent down to kiss her cheek. His daughters greeted Lydia. Nicole introduced her boyfriend, Ringo, who offered a half-hearted smile. The three young people disappeared in the crowd.
Polly stared after them, a frown on her face, then turned back to give Lydia a quick hug. “Lydia, have you seen Dad?”
Lydia looked around for Daniel, but he was nowhere in sight. “I was speaking to your father and Evelyn in the other room—”
“Are my brother and sister here?”
“Yes, dear. Your father introduced me—”
“Thanks!” Polly took off before Lydia could finish her sentence.
“Is something wrong?” Lydia asked Matt.
He shrugged and offered an apologetic smile. “You know families. Something’s always brewing.”
“I hope nothing that will upset Daniel, especially tonight.”
“Don’t worry. Polly’s an ace at making life run smoothly. I’d better go find her.”
His words did nothing to reassure Lydia. She suddenly remembered that the people Daniel suspected of murder had been invited to the party.
She returned to the table and said to Barbara, “Something’s wrong. I can feel it in my bones.”
Her friend placed a hand on her arm. “Lydia Krause, you’re letting your imagination run away with you.”
Lydia forced a smile. “I sincerely hope so.”
“Relax. Enjoy the party.”
She tried to shrug off the feeling of unease that something heavy threatened the festive mood of Daniel’s birthday celebration. She made herself listen to Benny’s joke, to eat the sushi she’d desired only minutes earlier. When Thomas approached, inviting them to take their places in the dining room, she gave a sigh of relief. Maybe nothing would mar Evelyn’s carefully planned party, after all.
Chapter Four
Lydia sat between Barbara and Caroline, and within chatting distance of the Linnetts. Across the table, two couples were catching up with each other’s news. Lydia wondered if the men were the old friends Daniel had alluded to. She didn’t think so, as both appeared to be in their seventies, about ten years younger than Daniel. Introductions were made and easy conversation followed. A waitress approached to take their orders for prime rib, chicken cordon bleu, or pecan-crusted salmon.
Arnold rose to toast his father and to thank Evelyn for hosting the event. A lukewarm salute from a drip of a man, Lydia thought as family and friends applauded.
The wait staff served cold red borscht.
“Yummy,” Benny declared after he’d finished his serving and half of his wife’s. “I haven’t had borsch in years.”
Katherine Linnett scolded him. “Benny, they’ll serve you seconds if you ask. No need to take poor Caroline’s food.”
Caroline grinned. “Are you kidding? Benny call over a waiter when he can grab what’s on my plate? But fear not—he won’t be pirating any of my prime rib until I’ve eaten my fair share.”
“Caro, dear, I have no designs on your red meat,” Benny protested. “Everyone knows fish is healthier. Which is why I ordered the salmon.”
The others laughed, including Lydia. She set aside her concerns regarding Daniel and allowed herself to enjoy the festivities. She felt as though she was sitting in the midst of long-time friends when in fact she’d met Barbara, the Liebermans, and the Linnetts a mere eight months before. But living in a gated community fostered a bond among its residents, much the way college dorms, sleep-away camp, and the armed forces did.
The three musicians ended the Mozart sonata and struck up a medley of Cole Porter songs. Benny and George led their wives to the small dance floor where Daniel and Evelyn were already doing the foxtrot. Evelyn’s head was tilted back as she gazed into Daniel’s eyes. He whispered into her ear, and they burst out laughing. They stopped dancing, realized they had, and then Daniel pulled Evelyn close and she nestled against his tall frame as they moved once again to the music.
“Now that’s something I’d give my eyeteeth and my front teeth to have,” Barbara murmured so only Lydia could hear.
“It would be nice, wouldn’t it?”
“How’s our favorite detective these days?”
Lydia gave a start because she’d been imagining herself swaying to the music in Sol’s arms. “Fine. He’s busy with the case.”
They observed the dancers in silence. George escorted Catherine to her seat and asked Lydia, “May I have the honor?”
“Of course,” Lydia responded. They walked to the dance floor now filled to capacity. She was surprised when George, who was a few inches shorter than she, held her in a practiced grip and led her masterfully into a modified lindy as the musicians picked up the tempo.
“I’m glad the workers will be back on the job Monday morning,” he said. “I’m hoping things will move along so residents will be able to use the putting green and miniature golf by mid-August. We’ll be placing news updates of our additions in the local papers.” He gave a rueful laugh. “God knows Twin Lakes can use some good PR.”
“Why, George? You sound concerned.”
“I am, somewhat,” he admitted. “We’ve a few units on the market and they haven’t been moving. I’m afraid the discovery of the body in the root cellar, on top of the oth
er murders, has made us a less than desirable senior community. Two recent sales went for appreciatively less than their asking price.”
“Oh,” Lydia said. “That means—”
“If it continues, the value of every unit goes down.”
Lydia eyed him. “Are you and Catherine thinking of moving?”
George’s laughter had a guilty ring to it. “Nothing gets past you, Lydia Krause. You must have run your company like a battleship.”
She giggled, warmed by his praise. “Not exactly, but I made it my business to be up on what was happening in every department.” She shook her head. “Not that it matters in the long run. I understand Krause Enterprises is being sold again—this time to a big conglomerate.”
George sighed. “Still, one always cares.”
“Too true,” Lydia agreed. “But to return to the subject of moving. Are you and Catherine considering leaving Twin Lakes?”
George shrugged his shoulders. “Could be. Our son-in-law may be taking a job in North Carolina. Catherine wants to live near the grandchildren.”
“You have two grandchildren who live in Manhattan,” Lydia pointed out.
“Yes, but they’re older and willing to travel at the drop of a pin. My son and his wife used to send them to us in Florida when they were six and seven. They’ll come visit us there.”
The music stopped. George bowed over her hand. “Thank you, Miss Lydia. And please keep what you’ve wheedled out from me under your hat.”
“Of course. I’ll be sorry to see you both leave.”
Nothing stays put, Lydia thought as she took her seat. A problem arises and roars for attention. We find a solution, and another matter arises in its place.
“What’s wrong?” Barbara asked.
Lydia shook her head. “Nothing. Just pondering the strange phenomenon called life.”
Barbara laughed. “Is that all?”
They ate their salads, which were followed by another period of dancing. Daniel and Evelyn stopped by the table to kibitz.
“We’re having a wonderful time,” Caroline answered in response to Daniel’s question.
Murder in the Air Page 3