Mermaids of Bodega Bay

by Mary Birk

  Reid took a long swallow of his tea. This wasn’t going to be easy. “Meg, this person we talked to said they thought Graham might have been involved with her.”

  Meg looked surprised. “Graham? Graham and Marisol? Absolutely not. Besides, he wouldn’t do that to Andrew.”

  She hadn’t said that Graham wouldn’t do that to her. Odd. “You were never jealous of her?”

  “No.” She hesitated. “I mean men liked her. She was beautiful and sweet. But she was devoted to Andrew as far as I could tell.”

  “I understand he traveled quite a lot?”

  “I guess so.” She paused. “I guess it is possible she got lonely and found someone, but it wasn’t Graham. I’m sure of that. We’d only been married a few years ourselves.”

  “I didn’t think there was anything to it, but I needed to ask.”

  “Are you going to talk to Graham?”

  “Probably.”

  “Then I won’t mention it to him. We’re not talking much these days, anyway.” She rearranged the dogs and poured herself more tea. “You’re not working with the FBI anymore on this, though, are you?”

  “No, not officially, though I’ve agreed to pass along anything I find out that seems important. I’m trying to keep my nose in to make sure Anne comes out okay.”

  “You’re not worried about her, though, are you? I mean about her being a suspect?”

  “Not because she did anything wrong, I know her better than that. But that might not be enough to keep her out of trouble.”

  “I guess you’re a nice husband to be watching out for Anne like this, even with things the way they are.”

  He twisted his mouth into a crooked smile. “Meg girl, things wouldn’t be the way they are if I’d been a nice husband.”

  Chapter 49

  ANNE WOKE UP in a terrible mood and pulled the covers over her head. She just wanted to hide. She would have given anything to be able to stay in bed, but she knew she couldn’t. She needed to spend most of the day on the Colony garden project again because she had a shipment of plants coming in, and she also had to go in for her polygraph test.

  She poked her head out from under the covers and looked towards the window. The sky was overcast and looked cold and dreary. Appropriate. She glanced over at the fireplace where the mercury glass vase holding her yellow roses sat on the mantelpiece, reminding her of Valentine’s Day, the last time she’d seen Lenore. How could everything have changed so fast? And who could have done such an awful thing? She thought again about the alarm not being on because of her and wanted to cry. All of this had happened because she was stupid and selfish.

  She turned over on her side, sinking into the soft warmth of the bed for comfort. Then she grabbed her cell phone and dialed Andrew. They talked briefly, agreeing that they’d see each other after her polygraph test. She was still so discombobulated from her confrontation with Terrence the night before that she cut the call short, using the incoming truck as her excuse. Stupid, selfish, and immature.

  Deciding to just get on with the day, she dragged herself out of bed, donned her old jeans and a t-shirt and pulled a hooded sweatshirt over her head. She quickly twisted her hair up on top of her head and unceremoniously stuck a clip in it.

  It was sure to be muddy, so she took her boots out of the closet. Tugging on the first boot, she noticed the ring still on her finger. She started to take it off; it would serve Terrence right if she just put it back in her jewelry box. And it would certainly be easier than explaining to Andrew its sudden reappearance on her finger. But then she frowned, thinking that whatever she did about the ring, one of the two men would feel betrayed by her. Stupid, selfish, immature, and indecisive.

  She called the police station to set up her appointment, then grabbed coffee and toast and left for the job. She got to the Colony right before the truck arrived and stayed busy supervising the plants being unloaded and put in place.

  The morning flew by as she lost herself in her work. She looked at her watch just in time to realize that she had to leave immediately or she would miss her polygraph appointment. Her clothes and boots were muddy but she didn’t have time to clean up, so she just ran to her car. Stupid, selfish, immature, indecisive, and messy.

  Arriving at the police station a little after noon, Anne noticed with relief that the reporters seemed to have taken a break from their surveillance. She marched in and presented herself for the test, feeling defiant but determined to get it over with. Jack Shelton came out of one of the conference rooms smiling at her, then when he actually seemed to register her appearance, he looked a little taken aback. Probably her elegant attire. Screw him if he didn’t like it.

  “Thanks for agreeing to do this, Anne.” The aggravating man was trying to act friendly to her. She was in no mood to be friendly to anyone, and especially not to him.

  “No problem. Where do I go?”

  Shelton led her into a room in the back of the station where the polygraph was set up, introduced her to the man who would administer her test, and then left. The examiner was a small, quiet man named Dwight whose genial smile put her at ease.

  She looked around as he fiddled with the machine, wondering if others could watch from outside as this man asked her questions. She couldn’t tell, but decided it didn’t matter. The questions started innocuously, then grew more focused. She concentrated on breathing and on answering exactly what the question asked. If she’d hoped that just not being involved with what happened to Lenore would make the questions easy to answer, she’d been wrong. Whoever had told the examiner what they wanted to know from her, probably Jack Shelton, had guessed at what she’d tried not to reveal. And faced with the direct questions, she told the truth.

  It was nearly two by the time Anne was finished. She felt drained and depressed.

  When she opened the door from the back room to the lobby of the police station, Andrew was sitting outside the office in the uncomfortable wooden chairs, awaiting his turn. She put her hand up to her hair, self-conscious. Maybe she should have fixed herself up a little better today.

  He smiled when he saw her. “I’m glad to see this isn’t an occasion for which we have to dress up.”

  After her morning of furious and frenetic activity, his remark surprised her out of her bad mood. She made a wry face. “I am a little bit of a sight. It’s muddy out there.” She sat down next to him, anxiously searching his face to assess his condition. His eyes were red-rimmed and underscored with dark circles.

  “You look beautiful to me.” He leaned over and kissed her.

  “Low standards is all I can say to you.” She looked around. “Your dad didn’t come with you?”

  “No, he wanted to, but he gets so worked up I thought it would be better for everyone if he didn’t.”

  “How are you doing?” She put her hand on his hair, smoothing her fingers through it.

  “Not so good.” He grimaced.

  “I’ll wait for you.” How could she leave him alone at a time like this? Every moment had to be a living hell for him.

  “Thanks, babe, but no. There’s no reason for you to wait. I’m not worried about the test. How can it be any worse than everything else that’s happened?”

  She nodded. “The test was no big deal. Of course, they didn’t tell me how I did.”

  “You’re coming over tonight, aren’t you? My sisters are here and Aunt Charlotte’s making dinner. I know she asked Meg and Graham and Will and Rita to come, too.”

  “Yes, I’ll be over later.” She looked down at her muddy boots and jeans. “And I promise I’ll even take a shower.”

  “Don’t shower for me. I like muddy girls.” He kissed her again.

  This was going to be hard.

  “God, it’s grim over there. I just can’t comprehend Lenore being gone.” He took her hand and just held it. “I need you so much.” He leaned his head back against the wall.

  Anne swallowed. “I had to tell him about our fight, so he’s probably going to ask you abo
ut it, too.”

  He opened his eyes and turned to her, then nodded and squeezed her hand. They stayed there, not talking, just sitting there, until the examiner came out into the lobby and got him.

  She wanted to weep.

  Chapter 50

  ANNE SAT FOR A MINUTE to collect herself. She was bone-deep tired. She just wanted to go home and sleep until this was all over. Her mind went back to the previous night and she cringed with the memory of how she’d practically thrown herself at Terrence.

  At dinner last night, after they’d gotten comfortable with each other, it had felt like it had before with him—when things were still good between them. All night, she’d been dying to touch him. The times he put his hand on hers casually while they talked were almost more than she could stand, with the electrical charge she felt passing between them. And then in the parking lot. God, the parking lot. She’d touched him and felt his body respond to her, and she thought he would…he would what? Go to bed with her? God, she was stupid.

  When she’d gotten back to the Mermaids, she’d gone straight to her room, ignoring Jeanne’s voice calling out to her. She’d closed the door and cried until she fell asleep.

  Anne put her head into her hands and leaned over her lap. How did she get herself into this mess? She touched her ring and turned it around. Goddamn Terrence and his separate ways crap.

  She drew herself up. Enough of this acting like a baby. Maybe Terrence hadn’t noticed how badly she’d wanted him to make love to her. Maybe he thought her hand had accidentally touched him there. She grimaced. No, he couldn’t have thought that was accidental. Not twice and not the way she’d done it. She hadn’t just touched him; she’d held him. A spasm of desire went through her. Why was it so hard for her to keep her hands to herself where he was concerned? She was so humiliated she couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him again. If she did, she decided, she would just act natural, pretend it had never happened.

  Then, almost as if thinking about him made him materialize, Terrence walked into the sitting area of the police station. The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them. “I was just thinking about you.”

  He smiled back and sat down next to her. “Me, too. About you, I mean. I’d hoped to find you here still. How did it go?” He took a piece of her hair that was falling down from her makeshift bun and pushed it back up.

  A warmth rushed through her. He’d been looking for her. He wanted to see her. A goofy grin threatened to break out across her face, but she made it stay hidden behind a softer, more restrained expression. “Fine. I mean, I don’t know what the results were, but I would expect that they were fine.”

  He looked around. “Were you waiting for me?”

  “No. I was just sitting here trying to get enough energy to leave.” That sounded better. More casual. Definitely not desperate.

  “Test take a lot out of you?” He put his hand on her neck, stroking softly with two fingers.

  She fought the urge to close her eyes and tilt her neck toward his hand. “It wasn’t bad. I guess I didn’t sleep well last night.”

  He took her hand in his. He looked down and she saw his pleased surprise when he saw the ring was still on her finger. “Me either.”

  Good, she thought, I’m glad you didn’t sleep well. But she just said, “Oh? Nothing wrong with the room, I hope?”

  “No, I love the room. It was nice of Jeanne to get it ready for me.”

  Her cheeks went pink, remembering her stupid little lie.

  “I have some very good memories of that room.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes.” He turned her face towards him with his free hand and he was almost close enough to kiss. “Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to get some dinner tonight. If you can stand eating with me two nights in a row?”

  “Oh, Terrence, I’m so sorry. I can’t. I mean of course I could stand eating with you, I’d love to. I want to.” She was miserable. “But I’m supposed to go over to the Colony house for dinner.”

  He dropped his hand and his face shut down. “Of course. I’ll see if Jeanne and the kids want to go get some clams for dinner. Give her a break from cooking.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He turned away, but not before she saw the pain in his face. “You’re killing me, girl.”

  “I can’t just abandon him.”

  “I understand.”

  But she knew he didn’t.

  Chapter 51

  “DARLING, can you please do the clasp?” Rita Kempton turned to her husband who was covering up his perfect torso with an immaculate white silk shirt. She held both ends of her pearl pendant around her neck. “I can never get it.”

  He came over to her and, squinting a little, slid the hook into the platinum clasp. She turned and put her arms around him, pursing her lips in a pout she hoped he’d find alluring. “You look delicious, Doctor.”

  “You look pretty great yourself.” He kissed her lightly on the mouth.

  “Oh, you can kiss better than that.” She pulled him closer, glad she’d brushed her teeth again after sneaking her pre-prandial glass of vodka. “Just be careful of my lipstick. It probably won’t look as good on you. And you don’t need it. Your lips are perfect the way they are.” As were his eyes, the luxuriant eyelashes that framed them, and everything about him. She slid her hands down to where she could feel his firm buttocks. He worked hard at keeping himself in shape, but not as hard as she had to on hers. Having a husband fifteen years younger was invigorating, but it was a challenge to make sure the age gap between them wasn’t too obvious.

  As always, she’d chosen her dress carefully, making sure it was flattering without being revealing. There came an age when revealing too much was simply not attractive anymore. Regretfully she had reached that age despite having engaged every procedure and potion she could find to stop the signs of the passage of time.

  He gently untangled her arms from around him. “This is nice, my dearest, but we’re probably going to wrinkle that pretty dress. I need to finish getting dressed myself, and we’ll be late if we don’t get going soon.”

  Rita was disappointed. Her body had started to respond and she didn’t want him to pull away. “Later tonight?” What was the use of a younger husband if you couldn’t enjoy his body frequently?

  “If we don’t get home too late.”

  There it was again, that tired look around his eyes.

  “Will, are you feeling okay?”

  “Just tired.” He smiled at her, as he wrapped his tie around his collar and knotted it. “Long day.”

  Rita was more worried than she wanted to let on. Maybe it had been a mistake for her to insist they live in Bodega Bay, but realistically, she didn’t think he had been equipped to have stuck it out in San Diego trying to practice medicine in that competitive atmosphere. Especially after he had alienated his advisor on staff at the hospital. Will’s attitude to people with authority over him often got him into trouble.

  Her stomach rumbled. As usual, she was starving. She was tempted to let herself have a break from her rigid diet, but she knew she would regret it tomorrow if she did. Keeping the weight off after fifty was so hard. And when a woman had a younger, very attractive husband, looking good was important. She hoped there would be something low calorie she could eat at the Colony house. Probably not, though. Not if Charlotte was cooking. Charlotte piled cheese on everything, and Rita knew better than to eat cheese. Too much fat.

  “You haven’t told me what you and Terrence talked about before I got there. I don’t understand what exactly he’s doing here.”

  “I guess he’s helping out. Andrew asked him, apparently. And he’s got ties with the FBI.”

  Rita raised her skillfully shaped eyebrows. “That’s strange.”

  “I thought so, but Terrence says they’re all just friends. Very civilized.” Will shrugged into his jacket.

  “I guess. What else did he tell you?”

  “Actually, quite a lot. It tu
rns out there’s been some pretty shocking developments. One I heard about yesterday, but I didn’t know if I could tell, and the other one I just learned about today from the FBI.”

  “What?”

  “Apparently Lenore wasn’t Andrew’s child.”

  Rita looked at him blankly. “Do you mean they got the babies mixed up at the hospital?”

  “They’re not saying Marisol wasn’t the mother, just that Andrew wasn’t the father. According to the DNA.”

  “Oh, my God. Was Andrew surprised?”

  Will slid his feet into his Italian loafers. “He says he was.”

  “Did you have any idea?”

  “No, none at all.”

  Rita thought. “So who was her father?”

  “I don’t have any idea, but I remember you saying back then that Graham Grainger was always sniffing around her.”

  Rita thought. “I did?”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  It had been so long ago, Rita couldn’t remember. “His own brother?”

  “It had to be someone.”

  “There were all sorts of men around the place all the time. And she had been a dancer. You know what they say about artists.”

  “Remember you told me about how the group they hung with in the city was kind of, I don’t know, kind of loose?”

  She thought. “Vaguely. It was such a long time ago. I don’t remember.” More and more Rita had noticed her memory was going. She needed to cut back on her drinking. “I’ll have to think back. Were you surprised?”

  “Not about Marisol. After all, I was her doctor. Andrew’s as well.”

  She arched an eyebrow at him. “I’m dying of curiosity. Tell me.”

  He shook his head. “Can’t, darling. Sorry. Doctor-patient privilege.”

  Rita sat on the bed, decided not to bother pouting. “You said there was something else they found out? What?”

  He nodded. “Even worse than the paternity thing.” He took his keys off the nightstand. “Let’s go downstairs. We’ll be late if we don’t get going.”