The Rooftop Party

by Ellen Meister

  Megan studied her for a moment and then looked at Jamie.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ll fill up a plate for you.”

  “I want those little meatballs,” she said, making a circle with her thumb and forefinger.

  He crossed his heart in solemn oath, and Megan set off with Dana, heading toward the exit. They were almost at the center of the room when Dana stopped short. There, standing in the doorway, was Ari. He came! She wanted to cry with joy.

  She realized he hadn’t seen her yet, and she watched as he stood there, scanning the room. Then his eyes found her, and he froze. She couldn’t read his expression from that distance, but she sensed the stirring in his heart. And she knew what it meant. She knew it as well as she knew how to find her own feet in the dark. It lifted her with hope.

  Then, the spell was broken. He seemed to collect himself and strode across the room.

  “I was in court today,” he explained, and she understood. It was why he hadn’t called. As a homicide detective, it wasn’t unusual for him to take the witness stand in a case. And she knew he wasn’t allowed to keep his phone on during a trial.

  Dana nodded. “I should have figured.”

  “What’s going on?” There was no warmth in his tone, and she understood. It could be a long road back for the two of them. But they would find a way. They had to.

  “Let’s talk outside,” she said, and started to move Ari and Megan toward the door. Her heart thudded in anticipation of what she was about to tell them. It was a terrible thing. A man had murdered his own father. He would be arrested, his life ruined. His mother would probably never recover. And Megan. Poor Megan. She had fallen so hard for this guy.

  But what choice did Dana have? She had to tell the truth.

  As they neared the bar, Dana saw Margaux in profile, and something seemed off. It took her a second to realize what it was—the hair ribbon. At the rooftop party, she had worn a yellow one to match her yellow bow tie. At the salon party, she had worn a silver ribbon to match her silver bow tie. But today, she was in a yellow bow tie but wore a black hair ribbon.

  At first, Dana was ready to dismiss it as one of those ridiculous details she couldn’t help noticing. And besides, didn’t people lose hair ribbons all the time?

  Still, she couldn’t ignore the feeling deep in her gut that this was significant. And sure—maybe it was wishful thinking, a way to avoid breaking the terrible truth that would destroy so many lives. But something pushed at the back of her memory. The lost yellow ribbon. She had seen it somewhere...hadn’t she?

  “You okay?” Ari asked.

  “I just need a minute,” she said, and continued thinking as the pianist transitioned into “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas,” and began to sing. It helped get her brain to shift gears and a memory came into focus. The photo in Jo’s cell phone. Was that it? Was that where she had seen the ribbon? There had been something in Ivan’s hand that looked like an off-white strand of fabric. But maybe it wasn’t off-white. Maybe it was yellow.

  She could barely breathe now, and hoped her suspicion was right. Because she didn’t want to think it was Jamie. She had never wanted to believe it was Jamie. She took out her phone and scrolled to the photo Jo had forwarded to her. The strip of fabric in Ivan’s hand did indeed look like a hair ribbon, but the picture was too blurry to know for sure. If only the image were crisper. She bit her lip, considering her next move.

  “What’s the matter?” Megan asked.

  “Hold on,” Dana said. And then she called out to the people nearby, “Excuse me. Did anyone take a picture of...of the body? Of Ivan?”

  Her question created such a strange hush that the piano player stopped. The whole room went silent, as everyone looked at her. Dana took a deep breath. She had to test this new theory, no matter how strange it seemed.

  “The night of the rooftop party,” she called out, addressing the whole room now. “Did anyone happen to take a picture of the body with their cell phone?”

  Her question hung in the silent air for several long moments. And then, there was a burst of activity and suddenly dozens of hands reached toward her, each holding a cell phone showing a photograph of Ivan’s dead body. Of course. Nearly everyone had taken a picture.

  “What’s going on?” Megan asked.

  Dana ignored the question, and took a loop around the room, examining the images. Most were taken from the rooftop, and the pictures were indistinct. But then, she found a photo that had clearly been taken by someone on the ground next to the body. It was sharply focused, and the scene was well lit from the overhead streetlight. Dana took the phone and zoomed in on Ivan’s hand. And there it was. As clear as could be. She held it toward Ari.

  “See that?” she said. “In Ivan’s hand? It’s a hair ribbon. A yellow hair ribbon.”

  Ari studied the photo. “I remember that. We sent it to the lab, along with other pieces of evidence. We’re still waiting for the results.”

  It was like they were onstage now, with a riveted audience. Every face in the room was turned toward them, listening. Dana called upon her acting skills to take a mental test drive of her theory. If a character had a dark enough history—complete with a past that included a violent assault—it might be enough to push her over the edge. That was why Margaux had originally struck her as so paranoid—a feeling reinforced yesterday in the salon. Dana understood. Margaux didn’t just see herself as a bartender, but as a protector of women. She had a mission. And if she had witnessed Ivan trying to assault Dana, it might have been enough to trigger violence. Someone like that wouldn’t see it as a crime. She would see it as justice.

  It might be mental illness, Dana thought, but her sympathy only went so far. The woman was a murderer and needed to be held accountable.

  “You don’t need to wait,” Dana said to Ari. “The hair ribbon is hers.” She pivoted and pointed to Margaux. “She was wearing it the night of the murder.”

  “No!” Margaux cried. “That’s not mine!”

  “I’m sorry,” Dana said. “But when they get the results, it’s going to have your DNA all over it.”

  “Is that what you wanted to tell me?” Megan asked her.

  Dana shook her head. “Until one minute ago, I thought it was Jamie.”

  “Jamie?” Megan looked shocked.

  Dana shrugged apologetically. “There was so much damning evidence. He saw me fight with his father. It sent him into a fury.”

  “I can vouch for that,” Lorenzo called out.

  “But I never even got to him,” Jamie insisted. “The generator died and the lights went out. I was worried about Megan and went to look for her. I told the police all of this.”

  “How could you think he was a killer?” Megan asked.

  “I didn’t at first. But then I found out Ivan had a bigger secret than we realized. A secret that added a much deeper layer to Jamie’s resentment. And he was set on making sure no one found out.”

  “You mean his affairs?” Megan asked.

  “I mean his daughter.”

  Ari put a hand on Dana’s shoulder. She nearly melted into him, but she knew she needed to stay focused.

  “What are you saying?” he asked.

  “Do you remember the dark-haired mother and daughter who came in late to the memorial service? Jamie’s brother, Brock, rushed over to have words with them.”

  “I was told they were estranged family,” Ari said, frowning. He hated when people lied. And hated even more when he didn’t see through it.

  Dana shook her head. “They were Ivan’s big secret. That girl is his daughter.”

  Megan turned to Jamie. “Is this true?”

  His head was down, and when he lifted it, his face was drained of color. “We wanted to protect my mom,” Jamie said. “I was afraid this would kill her.”

  “She’s stronger than you
think,” Megan said, and then turned to Dana. “You thought he would kill his own father because of this?”

  “I thought it explained the reason for all his anger,” Dana said. “When I added that to what I already knew—that Jamie was seen rushing toward his father just before the lights went out—all the pieces seemed to fit. He hated his father for what he’d done, and when he saw him assaulting me, well, that was the last straw. At least, that’s the way it looked.”

  Megan’s eyes looked pained. “I can’t believe you would have such a low opinion of him.”

  Since so much was out, Dana couldn’t stop now. She had to tell her friend everything she knew about Jamie. “There’s something else,” Dana explained. “Jamie was threatening someone—someone at the Shopping Channel who knew about the daughter.”

  “I wasn’t going to hurt her,” Jamie said. “In fact, I tried to keep her quiet with money. When she said no to that, I found something on her that—”

  “And you used me to get it,” Dana said. “You used Megan, too.”

  “Who are we talking about?” Ari asked.

  Dana looked at Jamie, expecting him to tell everyone it was Eleanor, and that he had found out she had taken a kickback many years ago. But he just shook his head and said, “It doesn’t matter.”

  Dana looked at him. Now that everything was out, he could have pointed a finger at Eleanor and destroyed her career. But he hadn’t. And in Dana’s mind, that said something about his character.

  “Of course it matters,” Ari said.

  “Can we just let it go?” Jamie asked. “I don’t want to get her in trouble.”

  At that, a voice from the back of the hall called out, “It was me. I was the one who knew about the daughter.” Eleanor walked to the center the room and told everyone present about the terrible thing she had done twenty years ago. She explained the circumstances, but took responsibility.

  When she finished, there was a hush in the room. And Dana knew it was over for Eleanor. She might be admired for coming clean, but there was no way the board of directors would let her stay, even if Charles Honeycutt forgave her.

  “I still don’t understand how this leads back to the bartender,” Megan said. “Why would she have killed Ivan?”

  “Because she saw him trying to assault me, and that brought something up for her. Some trauma from her past that haunts her, shapes the way she looks at the world.” Dana turned to Margaux. “Isn’t that right? It’s why you were so concerned from the beginning. You warned Megan and me about sleazy guys, like it was your mission, like part of your job was to make sure women were safe from predators.”

  Margaux folded her arms. “They’re out there,” she seethed, “just waiting to pounce.”

  “You killed my father!” Jamie said. “You killed him!” Dana had never heard him use that tone of voice. It was as if the reality was just now breaking through.

  Margaux turned to him, her eyes blazing. “I saw him! I saw him slip something into her drink. And the next thing I knew he was trying to force himself on her.”

  “But you didn’t need to—”

  “I was protecting her!” Margaux cried.

  And that was it. The confession. Ari produced a pair of handcuffs from somewhere in his jacket. When Margaux saw them, she tried to dash for the door. But even her dancer’s quick-footedness was no match for Ari’s long stride and even longer reach. He managed to put her in handcuffs before she even knew what was happening.

  And then, Jamie did something Dana didn’t expect. He put his face in his hands, and wept.

  39

  “If one more person tells me they like my couch, I’m going to take a knife and rip it open,” Dana said to Megan.

  It was New Year’s Eve. Dana had moved in only four days earlier, and this was her housewarming party. It just happened to fall on December 31, so she bought champagne and silly hats.

  Dana had fallen in love with a massive $9,000 sofa that was on clearance sale for $3,900. It was like something out of a dream, in a pale silvery gray, with a round tufted back and elegantly curved armrests, inlaid with carved wood painted to match the upholstery. Formal but romantic, it would look exquisite beneath the living room’s large windows. She imagined them draped with heavy curtains and tiebacks, making the couch take center stage.

  And it wasn’t only beautiful, but symbolic. The end to all her years of financial struggle. The realization that yes, she was successful. And stable. It wasn’t all going to disappear in a puff of smoke.

  And okay, that didn’t mean she was suddenly going to become the kind of person who didn’t look at price tags. The bargain hunter trait was ingrained far too deeply. But an extravagance and a sale all at once? Now that was intoxicating.

  And then, of course, there was Ari. The decision to purchase this sofa was a way to convince her heart what her head already knew—he wasn’t coming back.

  But when it came time to pull out her credit card, Dana froze, her heart and head locked in battle. They were not going to make this easy.

  “Miss? Your credit card?” the salesman had repeated.

  Dana didn’t answer. She was replaying what had happened since the Shopping Channel’s holiday party. Ari had agreed to meet her for coffee so they could talk things over. But no matter how many times she apologized, he couldn’t move forward. The trust, he said, had been broken. It shattered her heart in a million pieces, because she knew he loved her. He was just too hurt to let her back into his life.

  I take responsibility, she had said. It’s my fault. I messed up. It’ll never happen again.

  But Ari was immovable. She had hurt him for the last time. It was over.

  So yes, purchasing this beautiful sofa was the right decision on every level. And the perfect symbol for moving on. And yet. Dana couldn’t pull the trigger. At that moment, she understood that she wasn’t done trying, and the couch could be her last chance. A signal to Ari that she could make whatever sacrifices were needed. For him.

  So she told the salesman she changed her mind. Then she went to IKEA and bought the not-too-ugly couch he had favored. It made her a little queasy, this compromise, but love, she reasoned, was worth a little nausea.

  “Will you come to my housewarming?” she had asked Ari on the phone. “It would mean so much to me. And there’s something I want you to see.”

  “You really think that’s wise?” he’d responded.

  “Please, Ari,” she’d said. “Even if it’s just for a few minutes.”

  He said he would think about it, but his tone of voice suggested he was just trying to get off the phone. So here she was, with a house full of people, a couch she didn’t really like, and no Ari.

  She tried to console herself with the knowledge that she now lived in a dream apartment...an apartment that could handle such a large crowd without feeling like the subway at rush hour. She had invited friends and family, including her entire theater group, several coworkers from the Shopping Channel and a few others she was close to.

  Chelsea and Brandon hadn’t been able to make it, because she was now on bedrest. The unidentified infection that caused the fever had put her into preterm labor. It stopped when they started the antibiotics and got the fever down, but her cervix had already started the process of dilating for birth. So Chelsea was ordered to stay in bed for the rest of the pregnancy. Fortunately, their babysitter had come back, and so she had someone to care for Wesley while Brandon was at work. Now that Dana had her splint off, she planned to go out there on weekends to help out whenever possible.

  Dana glanced around at her guests. Nathan, her Sweat City director, was there with his wife, Lisa. There had been whispers among the cast that they had split up for a time, but were back together now. Dana wondered if the separation accounted for the weird vibe she got off him that day. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. She never had any intention of hooking up with hi
m.

  Lorenzo, of course, was another story. She had told him he could bring a plus-one. It would, she reasoned, keep her from being tempted to do anything impulsive. But he came alone, and she couldn’t help noticing how often he glanced her way.

  Megan held up a glass of champagne. She and Jamie had just returned from Mexico, looking tanned, happy and relaxed.

  “To your new place,” she said, offering a toast.

  Jamie raised his glass. “In the words of Oscar Wilde, take everything in moderation...including moderation.”

  Kenneth and Jennifer were standing nearby, so Megan called them over. “What do you think of the apartment?” she asked. “Isn’t it great?”

  The last part, Dana knew, was an attempt to lead the witness.

  “It’s lovely,” Jennifer said, and turned to Dana. “I’m so delighted for you.”

  “It’s a hell of a neighborhood,” Megan went on, trying to prompt a positive reaction from Dana’s father. “Safe...beautiful...and there’s a Trader Joe’s just a few blocks up.”

  Dana wanted to tell her to save her breath. Kenneth Barry would never approve.

  “I’m jealous,” Jamie said. “It’s like a rare gem.”

  “How about you, Dr. Barry?” Megan pressed. “Can you believe the steal she got on this place?”

  “It’s a big improvement from her old apartment,” he conceded, and raised his glass to Dana. “To many healthy and productive years here.”

  Dana gave Megan a look to let her know her father’s reaction was just enough. Not a rave, but about as positive as she could hope for.

  “Thanks, Dad,” Dana said, tipping her glass toward his.

  “And I like the sofa,” he added.

  Megan patted Dana’s arm. “We’re going to keep you away from sharp objects tonight,” she whispered.

  Dana made the rounds, chatting with her guests, accepting their toasts and congratulations. She no longer wore a splint, so it was a relief to have freedom of movement. She had invited Eleanor and her husband, Phil, who seemed to be enjoying themselves, despite the turn their lives had taken. After the holiday party, Eleanor had offered her resignation before the board could fire her, so she was officially unemployed. Dana felt terrible about it. Eleanor loved the Shopping Channel. It was everything to her. And sure, she had committed a pretty serious crime. But that was twenty years ago. Water that had long since passed under the bridge and evaporated.