by Mary Bowers
Ed was letting one melt in his mouth and pondering the mysteries of life when Teddy and Lily delighted him by coming out of the master bedroom, rolling their suitcases behind them.
“We are moving over to Cadbury House,” Teddy announced. “We’re done here. Don’t get me wrong, little buddy, I know you tried. It’s not your fault the Frieda Strawberry thing fizzled out. No ghost, no show. Gotta move on, am I right? At least Purity came through for us. This is going to be a big opener for the new season. I can feel it. Taylor’s still got my dad staying with her, helping her with those fundraising things she throws on the weekends. Turns out he’s a heck of an organizer, but I always knew that. Dad’s a genius. And Porter, here, wants to go visit all his little pals at the shelter, don’t you, guy?”
Out of everything Teddy had just said, Porter had only heard the word “go,” and it flipped a switch in the dog. He started running in circles and barking, and conversation was impossible for the next thirty seconds.
When Porter finally settled down, Ed said, “So sorry to see you go. Do you need any help with your bags?”
After they had driven away, Ed went into his office with Bastet, left the door wide open, sat behind his desk, and felt the peace and quiet expanding and filling the house around him. Alone at last. He took his first deep breath in weeks.
Then he booted up the computer. The lady from New Smyrna Beach had been calling his office phone, and he had been putting her off as gently as he could, which had turned out to be easy. All he had to do was mention that Teddy Force was in his house and they were working on a new episode of the show, and she became more interested in what they were doing than in her own problems.
But now that he was in control of his own world again, he felt strong – no, commanding. What had he been dithering about? Of course the dear lady needed to know the facts before it was too late. Her brother was only trying to convince her that her condo was full of malevolent spirits because he wanted her to sell it. The condo that she and her husband had purchased in 1989 for $65,000 was now worth over two million, and her brother wanted that money. The cad.
Edson barely re-read what he had composed that morning weeks ago, printed out a copy for the file, and decisively hit the “Send” button.
Then he went across the street to Dan Ryder’s house and rang the doorbell.
“Sorry to disturb you, Dan, but may I talk to the twins?”
Dan tilted his head slightly, but otherwise his expression didn’t change. “You want to talk to the twins?”
“If you wouldn’t mind?”
Dan opened the door all the way and said, “They’re in the kitchen. They brought me some croissants. They’re actually pretty good. Help yourself.”
Ed leveled with him. “They brought some to my house, too, but we needn’t flatter ourselves, Dan. They were for Teddy, really.”
“I figured as much.”
“Ladies,” Ed said, marching into the kitchen and making them drop their sponges in surprise. “I will be needing your services again today, I’m afraid. Could you come over at the end of the day and repair any damage to my master bedroom suite? They’ll need a good scrubbing. My guests have left. You will be compensated, of course.”
Their faces fell, but they nodded in tandem.
“Okay, Mr. D-D. We’ll be over around two,” Rosie said.
After a moment’s silence, the twins both looked at Dan and gave him watery smiles. Teddy Force had always been an impossible dream, they seemed to be thinking, but Dan Ryder would still need his house cleaned every week.
“Want to stay for coffee?” Dan asked Ed, as he easily read what the twins were thinking.
“Sorry, I’ll have to take a rain check. I have work to do.”
He returned to his house, strode into his office and went straight to the file cabinet. Picking through the neat hanging folders in the “Unsolved” section, he took out the material he’d labeled “The Beach Haunting.”
It was time to deal with Miss Frieda, once and for all.
As usual, Teddy had decided to take himself off down the road without telling anybody in advance, and Lily had found herself throwing everything into the back of the car and wondering how to sort it all out at Cadbury House.
As Teddy drove south on A1A, Lily looked into one of the few cars going the other way and recognized Taylor Verone in her white SUV. She tried to wave, but Taylor wasn’t looking, and by the time she told Teddy to toot the horn, it was too late.
“She wants us to come for brunch,” Claire’s text had said. “Willa’s house @ 10. OK with you?”
“Great. C U then,” Taylor had texted back.
Taylor pulled into Claire’s driveway at 10:01, got out of the car, and before she could ring the doorbell, Claire came out. She looked fabulous in a pink sundress with high-heeled sandals that were mostly little white straps, and had a stack of cherry-pink and green bangles on her wrist that might have been genuine Bakelite. Her thrift-shop manager, Florence, would have known if they were the real deal, just by the clicking sounds they made as they fell together, but Taylor was no expert on vintage jewelry.
Taylor was wearing khaki capris and a silky white top with a blue-green figure of the cat goddess Bastet hanging on a long chain. She had felt fabulous when she’d left Cadbury House. Now she felt extremely ordinary. Claire did that to other women, though she never seemed to be trying.
“Beautiful day,” Taylor said, letting the sun’s warmth melt over her skin. The ocean was active this morning, and sounded like a huge washing machine beyond the dune.
“Going to get hot later, though,” Claire said. Taylor suddenly realized the other woman was nervous, and wondered why.
“I noticed Rod driving away in Willa’s car about half an hour ago, so it’s going to be just us girls.”
“Oh, good.”
They walked across the street and rang the doorbell. Willa welcomed them inside. Taylor looked her hostess up and down and suddenly felt a tender sadness. Willa was in her early sixties, but she was dressed like a woman in her eighties: matching polyester pants set, chunky, dull necklace, and inexpertly polished nails. Inside her sandals, she was wearing sheer hosiery.
Still, she seemed happy and comfortable, and they all went up the stairs chattering like schoolgirls.
The breakfast table was set with expensive china, each plate with a different botanical design, and orange juice had been poured into stemware. Next to each plate was a sherbet cup full of fresh fruit. A little posy of wildflowers sat charmingly in the middle of the table, and beside it was a white satin picture book.
“We took the package deal,” Willa said. “DVD and hard-copy photo album. It was really very well done. No impersonators or anything.”
“Something smells good,” Taylor said, inhaling cinnamon.
Willa beamed. “Crème Brulee French Toast,” she said. “I got the recipe out of a magazine.”
“I’m sure it’s going to be wonderful,” Claire said, reaching for the album. “Can we look at your pictures?”
“You girls go ahead,” Willa said. “I’m going to plate our brunch.” She got busy in the kitchen, putting warm syrup into a pitcher and opening the oven.
Claire carefully opened the satin cover of the album and looked at the large portrait of the bride and groom on the first page.
“Oh, you look lovely!” Taylor said, looking at the radiant smile on Willa’s face. She’d worn a white suit, and had an orchid corsage. Rod was wearing a rented tux, and was standing behind Willa with a hand placed possessively on her arm.
“What a handsome couple you make.”
Willa came to the table and set down a couple of filled plates. She gazed at the picture and said, “We had that one framed and put it in the bedroom.”
Then, for some reason, she blushed and turned quickly back to the kitchen for the last plate.
“Please,” she said, coming back, “have a seat.”
“So what does it feel like to be an old married l
ady?” Claire asked when they had settled around the little breakfast table.
Willa took a deep breath and let it out again. “I can’t quite settle down and let it in. I know it’s going to hit me soon, but it hasn’t yet. It just seems strange to have him here, that’s all. I’ve lived alone for a long time now. Even when my mother was alive, I had my own room. I’ve wondered if I’m going to be able to get used to living with someone at my age. So far, it’s been . . . very nice. We haven’t had our first fight yet,” she added.
“Maybe you won’t have fights,” Taylor said, submerging memories of her own brief, failed marriage. It had been so long ago, she no longer had bitter memories, or even any specific memories. Even her mother-in-law was just a cartoon character now.
They toasted that with orange juice, but when she set her glass down, Willa said, “Everybody has fights.”
“You remember that,” Claire said, woman-to-woman. “You’re going to have fights, but it won’t be the end of the world. My husband and I had a terrible fight on our wedding night, and it didn’t ruin the marriage. I was so young and stupid! I was pregnant, and I decided to wait until our wedding night to tell him. I thought he’d be thrilled, but he exploded. I was shocked, and burst into tears like a little idiot; it wasn’t at all what I had expected. Not that he didn’t want the baby: he just didn’t like me keeping a secret like that. So we got off to a rocky start, but it all worked out in the end.”
“I didn’t know you had a child,” Willa said.
Without knowing why, Taylor began to feel uneasy. She thought frantically of anything she could say to change the subject. “My children are all dogs and cats,” she said in a light tone, hoping to get a laugh.
Willa gave Taylor a tiny smile, then asked Claire, “Did you have a boy or a girl?”
“A girl. Sylvie. She’s . . . ah . . . she’s her own woman. Always was. Not like me or her father. She’s completely impractical, and seems to think she’s going to be living in a castle one day with a handsome prince, and they’ll have plenty of money and everything is going to be wonderful, and in the meantime, she can’t even hold down a job.”
“Do you see very much of her?” Willa asked.
“Sometimes. She’s grown up now, of course. I never know what to expect from Sylvie. Sometimes she won’t even speak to me, and sometimes she acts like nothing ever happened and wants to travel with me, even come live with me, or have me come live with her. Then she flies into a rage for no reason and she’s off again. Her father had no idea how to handle her. When I said she needed counseling, he was furious. He just tried to ignore the situation, which made it much harder on me. When she blamed me for everything, he agreed with her.”
“That’s so unfair!” Willa said.
“Men can be like that,” Claire said. “Even a good marriage can be difficult at times. Remember that.”
Taylor gazed blankly out the window at the ocean, wondering just how much Claire actually regretted having that kind of a husband drop dead.
Willa was nodding. “I don’t expect perfection. We aren’t exactly a couple of naive kids. I don’t know if you know it, Taylor, but Rod was married before.”
“Was he? This French toast is delicious, Willa. I hope Rod is happy he’s getting such a good cook for a wife.”
“What do you know about his first wife?” Claire asked. “Has he said anything to you about her?”
“Oh, nothing much,” Willa said, setting her fork down and looking sheepish. “She wasn’t a very nice lady, from what I gather. She was a bit younger than he, and very immature. She only married him because she thought he was wealthier than he actually was, and as soon as they were married she started running up the credit card bills. He tried to put a stop to it, but when he tried to talk to her about it, she threw a fit. Then, of course, there was the daughter. He tried to keep the peace for the sake of the child, but the woman was impossible. After their daughter died, there was nothing to keep them together anymore, and he said getting a divorce was actually a relief. They don’t have any contact now; haven’t for years.”
Taylor noticed Claire being distracted by something through the window, and turned to look. Dan Ryder was walking by, heading for the beach.
“He’s attractive,” Willa said demurely. Then she gave Taylor a covert glance and a little smile.
Something seemed to burst in Claire, and she let it all out in a rush. “He’s so hot I could die. Right in his arms, I could die.”
“Claire!” Willa said.
The lovely blond woman seemed to transform to a dewy teenager before their eyes. “I’m tired of trying to hide it. Are you surprised?”
“Nope,” Taylor said, while Willa just smiled.
“Well, I’m still having legal problems with my in-laws,” she said. “Does Taylor know?”
“You asked me to keep it quiet, and I have,” Willa said primly.
Claire explained the lawsuit, but before Taylor could take it in, Rod came into the kitchen with a sack from a hardware store and announced, “I got the new filters for the water dispenser in the fridge. I can’t believe you haven’t been changing that. You could’ve made yourself sick!”
The women all turned to him, and Willa said, “I’m entertaining my friends, Rod.”
“Smells good. Could you get me some?” He was unloading the boxed filters on the cooking island. “They were on sale, so I got three.”
Willa’s face grew red. “Darling, do you mind? We’re having brunch.”
“Yeah, well, I gotta eat too, you know. Never mind. I’ll get it myself.”
He got a plate out of the cupboard and went to the long pan sitting across the range top. There was a sheet of aluminum foil sitting loosely over it, and he threw that aside and shoveled out the last few pieces of French toast. Then he dug around and got as much of the sugary glaze as he could get.
“I was saving those last pieces in case my guests wanted more,” Willa said, her voice getting tight.
Taylor and Claire simultaneously declared themselves to be full, very full, might not eat dinner tonight, might not eat for days.
“Really,” Taylor concluded. “Couldn’t eat another bite.”
“See?” Rod said from the kitchen counter where he was eating noisily. “They don’t want any more.”
Taylor turned to give Willa a reassuring smile and was dismayed to see her burst into tears.
“What the hell is wrong with you, woman?” Rod said with his mouth full.
Claire fixed him with a deadly stare. “She just realized she’s married to an asshole.”
He stared at them with popping eyes.
Claire stroked Willa’s arm. “Would you like to come over to my house for a while?” she asked gently.
“No. I’m a married woman now, and I have to learn how to work things out. I’ll handle this.”
“Handle what?” Rod said. “Got some more little secrets to tell me? Let your girlfriends stay and hear it. May as well. You like to put on a show, don’t you?”
“What on earth are you talking about?” Willa said.
“It was a lovely brunch,” Taylor said. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re not leaving, are you?” Willa said. “Because of Rod?”
“Why didn’t you tell me before we got married that you were a goddamn blueblood heiress rich bitch? Why did you have to announce it in front of the whole neighborhood and leave me standing there looking like a fool? Like I married you for your money or something. They could all see that I didn’t know.”
“I – I’m sorry,” Willa said stiffly. “I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that. It just came out. What Ben said –“
“Oh, to hell with Ben! This has nothing to do with Ben. You should have told me, and you should have told me before we were married. I would have signed a prenuptial agreement, but no-oo. You didn’t even give me a chance. You had to make a spectacle of yourself.”
“Goodbye, Willa, and thanks again.”
Taylor grabb
ed Claire by the arm and marched her to the stairs, as the fight behind them escalated.
Outside on Santorini Drive, Claire said, “Well, they’re having their first fight.”
“How was brunch?” Ed asked without looking up.
Taylor came in and threw herself into a chair, looking pie-eyed.
“Awful.”
“Willa can’t cook?”
“Willa married an asshole.”
Ed lifted his head and looked at her. “Indeed?”
She described the whole debacle. As usual, Ed insisted on hearing everything, even the parts that didn’t matter. She was flustered by the time she finished, but she got through it.
After she’d finished, Ed said, “Well, at least one good thing has happened this morning. Teddy has left. Porter and Lily went with him, of course.”
“Oh. Nice for you.”
“Awful for you. He’s at your house right now, making himself at home.”
Taylor made an unintelligible noise and let her head fall back.
Chapter 24
“I have decided to continue the investigation here in Santorini. I’m still not satisfied that the police are on the right track. Are you in?”
“If it’ll keep me away from Cadbury House while the crown prince is in residence, yes. Exactly how are you going to continue to investigate? You’d better not get in the way of the police.”
He waved a hand. “My investigations are always sub rosa. Subtle. Did you say something? Don’t mumble, Taylor, it makes you seem confused.”
“Oh, never mind me. I’m just the straight man. So you’re convinced of a haunting now, and you think it led to Dolores’s death?”
“And Peggy Peavey’s, too, of course. Yes, I believe now that there is a flesh-and-blood murderer among us, but I also believe there is a paranormal influence trying to break through. I’ll continue the investigation the only way I can. By spending time in Frieda Strawbridge’s house. At night, of course. No point in involving Ben.”