by Mary Birk
“For one thing, in our marriage, it’s me that’s got the money.” Rita didn’t know if she had ever voiced this to anyone, but she didn’t want Meg to go off half-cocked and divorce her husband over some little slut.
“Why would that make any difference?”
“Without my money, Will couldn’t live in the manner to which he has become accustomed. And, frankly, because I’m older than he is and he’s a sinfully good looking man, I protected myself from him ever leaving me and getting anything. We have a prenuptial. If he cheats on me, he gets nothing. So he knows that any piece of tail he got anywhere else would just end up costing him more than he’s willing to lose.” Then Rita had a worrying thought. “You didn’t sign a prenuptial with Graham, did you?” She was pretty sure Meg had no money of her own. None of the Michaels girls did.
“No. But I don’t need his money. I can work. I was working until this last miscarriage.”
“Now that’s crazy talk. I’m not saying you should leave him. I wouldn’t give up a man with that kind of money just because of some little piece of trash. You need to think before you do anything.” Rita had never regretted staying with her first husband, the cheating son-of-a-bitch. With all the money she’d gotten when he died, it had been worth it.
“I’m thinking of going to stay in the city with my mother for a little while so I can get some perspective. Decide what to do.”
“That sounds like a good idea. Give you some time to think, and Graham some time to miss you and think about how he messed up. Let me know if there is anything I can do.”
“Thanks, I will. I can’t think of anything. This just comes at such a bad time—not that any time would be good to find out your husband’s cheating—but with Lenore.”
“How’s the investigation into Lenore’s death going? Have you heard anything?”
“Nothing new as far as I know.”
“Will says they think it was Andrew.” Rita held her breath, hoping she hadn’t gone too far.
Meg was silent for a moment. “They haven’t charged him.”
“Will said Anne broke things off with Andrew. Was that because she thinks he did it?”
Rita heard a sharp intake of breath from Meg. “Absolutely not.”
“Then what happened? Seems suspicious to me.”
Meg’s voice was noticeably cooler. “Anne and Terrence have decided to try again.”
Now Rita knew she’d gone too far. She decided to backtrack. “I’m sure it was someone not even connected to Lenore. You know, someone who wanted the money.” Of course, she thought, that didn’t explain the sexual molestation that had been going on, but she thought she’d said enough to Meg right now about that. After all, Andrew was Meg’s brother-in-law. “Did they ever figure out how the kidnapper was supposed to have gotten in?”
“I don’t think so. There’s a set of the Colony’s keys missing, though.”
“Well, I’m sure that explains it. I was wondering, has Graham ever done this before?” Rita needed to find out if Meg had any idea that Graham might be Lenore’s father. Meg had a right to know if it were true.
“I don’t think so, but this thing with Gloria Olsen has been going on since October.”
Rita murmured sympathetically, then asked the question she’d really called about. “Honey, speaking of other flirtations, I was thinking, and don’t get mad at me for asking, but did you ever think Graham and Marisol? You know?”
There was a momentary silence on the line. Then Meg spoke, her voice uncertain. “You mean did Graham sleep with Marisol?”
“I remembered him being a little taken with her. Of course, weren’t they all?”
“Rita, you’re not the first person to mention this to me. Did you mention this to the police or anyone else?
“No, of course not.”
“Then someone else must have noticed it, too.”
“But you didn’t?”
“No, but obviously I’m not good at noticing. You’re thinking he could have been Lenore’s father? God, I hope not.”
“I was just thinking, that’s all. Marisol was a pretty thing. All the men were a little silly about her. Even Will. Frankly, that’s why I decided to spirit him away to that villa in Corfu. Not only did we have a great couple of months, but when we got back the woman was safely pregnant and out of circulation.”
Meg’s voice was desolate. “At this point, I wouldn’t put it past Graham. Maybe he was more jealous of Andrew than I realized. Maybe sleeping with Andrew’s wife was the ultimate one-upmanship.”
Chapter 69
DISAPPOINTMENT filled Reid when he drove up to the Mermaids. Anne’s car was gone. He had hoped they could have a late lunch together. He was starving for something to eat and starving to be close to Anne, especially with his impending departure looming ever closer. Two notes lay on the counter. One was from Anne, folded over with his name on the outside. He glanced at the other note, open for all to read, from Meg. She’d gone to San Francisco after all.
He opened the note from Anne. She was over at Martha’s helping her go through her niece’s personal effects and said to call when he was free and she would meet him.
He decided to call her as soon as he got something to eat organized. He went to the refrigerator, Jeanne’s wonderful refrigerator full of food. He saw the leftover pasta from last night and grabbed it.
After he had a plate warming in the microwave, he clicked on his mobile to call Anne so they could coordinate getting back in each other’s immediate vicinity. He looked at the clock and smiled. Maybe she’d come back for a nap. He’d been a little afraid he was going to wear her out, but he did have to leave tomorrow. He was entitled to be greedy. She could rest when he left.
Just as the microwave beeped and he started to punch out Anne’s number, his mobile rang. Anne, he thought. But it was Meg.
“Hey, Meg girl. On your way to the city?”
“You saw my note?”
“Yes. Sorry to miss saying goodbye to you. Are you doing all right, then?”
“I guess. I just couldn’t stand being there anymore right now, so close to Graham.”
“You need some time away.”
“I think so. But Terrence, I’m calling you about something else. You’re going to think I’m crazy, always calling you and accusing Graham of things. First, I tell you he’s probably a murderer, then it turns out I’m just a crazy suspicious wife, now this.”
“Don’t worry. Tell me. If I think you’re barmy, I’ll tell you.”
“I was talking to Rita today, you know, Rita Kempton?”
“The doctor’s wife.”
“Right. She seems to think Graham may have slept with Marisol. I would think it was crazy myself, but after finding out about this other woman, I don’t trust my instincts. Anyway, she thinks maybe Graham was Lenore’s father. I know you’d asked me about this earlier, and I couldn’t remember anything, so I thought I’d better tell you.”
“She actually suspected Graham of having an affair with Marisol at the time?”
“I guess so. Graham is a little jealous of Andrew. Maybe it was his way of getting at Andrew. I don’t know. I truly didn’t notice Graham paying any extra attention to Marisol, but as I said…who knows?”
“I see. How do you see this tying in?”
“If it’s true, I thought the police could at least be sure that the identity of Lenore’s father and her killing weren’t related, because, thanks to my stupid and embarrassing accusations, we know Graham didn’t have anything to do with what happened to Lenore. Just in case it helps, I wanted you to know. I don’t know that I could think Graham is any more of a jerk than I do right now, but if he slept with Andrew’s wife that would do it.”
At least he could relieve her mind on that score. “Meg, don’t worry about that. I can’t say whether he ever slept with Marisol, but I can tell you that Graham wasn’t Lenore’s father.”
There was a silence. “You’re sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I s
aw the full DNA test results. The preliminary ones didn’t show that but the others were more complete. No familial DNA. So, unless you have another bombshell, like maybe either Andrew or Graham was adopted, Graham is not in the running. I probably should have mentioned it to you after our conversation the other day.”
He heard Meg let out a sigh. “Thank God.” She laughed. “Just when I thought the man was beyond redemption.”
“If Rita had told her husband, he could have told her that we’d be able to tell after we got the full DNA report. I expect Kempton would know what a full report would show.” Reid remembered that Kempton had told them that Graham had been overly attentive to Marisol, but of course, that was before they’d gotten the more complete DNA report.
“She can be a little funny about Will.”
“Oh?”
“She’s sensitive about their age difference. And she’s pretty adamant about the idea that even a bad husband is better than no husband, as long as he has money. Unless you have your own money, and since I don’t, she’s strongly advising me to stay with Graham no matter who he sleeps with. Or divorce him but only if I can take him to the cleaners. Neither one of which is anything I’d want to do.”
“So she doesn’t care if her husband fools around?”
“Oh, no, she definitely cares. But she says she’s the one with the money and she has a prenuptial. Apparently he doesn’t have much of his own and he’s a little spoiled. If he cheats on her, he gets nothing. So she’s sure he wouldn’t risk it. Talk about golden handcuffs.”
“Golden something, anyway. Hands aren’t the body part that comes to mind.”
She laughed. “So where’s your girl? I noticed there seemed to be a reconciliation going on. I figured staying in my room was a good idea.”
A blush burned up from his neck. “I was just going to call her. She’s over at Martha’s helping her go through her niece’s things. I had to take care of something for the FBI this morning.”
“Then, for heaven’s sake, get off the phone with me. I promise not to call you until tomorrow with any more of my crackpot ideas. I’ll bet you’re sorry you ever told me to feel free to call you.”
“Certainly not. You can call me anytime.”
“You take care of my sister.”
“Exactly my intentions.”
“Oh, and Terrence?”
“Yes.”
“I’m pretty sure Rita Kempton thinks Andrew killed Lenore.”
His scalp tingled. “She say why?”
“Not really. I think Will Kempton thinks so too, and she’s getting it from him. He’s Andrew’s best friend, and their doctor, so I don’t know. I just wanted to let you know.”
“Right, thanks.”
Thinking about what she’d said, Reid put down his phone and took his lunch out of the microwave. He touched it. Still warm enough to eat. He would call Anne as soon as the food hit his empty stomach.
Could his instincts about Andrew Grainger being innocent be wrong?
Chapter 70
IF SHE COULDN’T be with Terrence right now, Anne thought, at least she was making herself useful. Besides, she needed to keep busy until he was free again. He made her feel like she was in heat or something. Maybe she was.
Martha had been grateful for her help going through Lucy’s things. Apparently hell would have frozen over before Violet lifted a hand to help. The woman had taken one look at the project and gone to her room, muttering something that Anne vaguely interpreted as derogatory about Lucy. Great. The poor girl’s been murdered and the old witch has to badmouth her. How did Martha stand it?
But with or without Violet, they needed to get through this stuff as soon as possible. Martha’s house wasn’t very big and Lucy’s things were stacked all over the kitchen and in Martha and Gus’s bedroom. Anne had already gone through most of Lucy’s clothes, and the vast majority of them were going to charity. Martha just didn’t have the same taste or the same shape as Lucy. Martha would keep a few sweaters, but that was it.
Anne turned her attention to the boxes containing books and papers, as well as the contents of Lucy’s desk while Martha tackled the kitchen paraphernalia. They’d both been a little surprised at some of the contents from the boxes marked as having come from Lucy’s bedroom. Anne had been more than a little curious about all the kinky sex paraphernalia, but hadn’t wanted to examine the things too carefully in front of Martha. Did Lucy really use that stuff? Was everyone else using those kinds of things? How did they know what to do with them? Anne couldn’t even imagine walking into a store and buying sex toys. Maybe Lucy ordered them from the internet.
Martha spoke, interrupting Anne’s thoughts. “Could you set aside any bills so that I have an idea of what’s been paid and what might be coming up to be paid? And remember to keep an eye out for anything that looks like a will. I doubt if she had one, but just in case.”
“Sure. I’ll use one of the big envelopes in there for the bills.” Anne sorted the papers, keeping anything that looked important, and throwing everything else away. “Is Gus fishing?”
Martha shook her head. “I’ve got no idea where he is. He wasn’t home when I got back from Lucy’s yesterday and he didn’t come home all night—again.” She sighed. “He had to go down to the police station after the funeral. They wanted to talk to him about something. I haven’t seen him since, but Violet said he came by not long before I got back yesterday and had something to eat. Then he left again.”
Gus was such a jerk. He had to know that Martha was going through a tough time and still he couldn’t be there for her. Why did Martha stay with him? Just the Violet thing alone would have been enough to send Anne running.
After she finished going through all of the loose papers, Anne pulled out a stack of magazines from the box. Bridal magazines. Embarrassing as it was to admit, Anne loved bride magazines. “Martha, was Lucy getting married?”
Martha frowned. “She was hinting around about it, but I never actually saw a man.”
Anne riffled through the magazines. The dresses were so pretty. Well, most of them, she thought as her gaze landed on one that made the poor model look like a wedding sausage. “Do you want to keep these?”
“No, I guess not.”
Anne, idly interested, went on thumbing through the next few magazines. She wouldn’t be needing a wedding dress. She’d already done that, and even though it hadn’t been a wedding like these, it had been lovely, and with any luck, she would never have to do it again. Though some of these dresses made you want to do it again just for the dress.
Her flipping process was stopped by a manila envelope that had been stuck inside the magazine. Maybe it was the will. Weird place to put it, though. Anne opened the envelope and looked through its contents. Not a will. Medical records. She looked at them carefully.
She held them up. “Martha, did you know Lucy had these?”
Martha was reaching up to put some glasses from Lucy’s kitchen into her cupboard, but turned around to look at her. “What are they?”
“Weird, but I think they’re Marisol Grainger’s medical records from Lenore’s birth. They were stuck in one of the magazines.”
Martha came over to look at them. “I can’t imagine what she was doing with those.”
“Lucy worked at the hospital when Lenore was born, didn’t she?”
Martha nodded. “She hadn’t been there long, but of course, she knew the Graingers because I worked there, so she wanted to help take care of Marisol. She wasn’t the lead nurse but she got to help.”
“I thought Lenore was premature.”
“Yes, the doctor said almost two months early.”
“That’s not what this says.” Anne pointed to the words on the paper. “Full term female baby.”
“Probably they put that there because Lenore looked like she was full term. We were lucky she was so healthy, that early.”
“She was in an incubator?”
“Oh, no. She was doing okay on her own, so the
doctor said she didn’t need it. She got to go home with Andrew just a couple of days after she was born.”
“Do you mind if I show these to Terrence?”
“No. I’m sure Lucy shouldn’t have had them, but I don’t suppose she can get into trouble about it now.”
Anne had a feeling Lucy had already gotten into trouble because of them. The worst kind of trouble.
Chapter 71
REID WAS just putting the first bite of pasta in his mouth when his mobile rang again. This time it really was Anne. He put his fork down. “I was just going to call you, lassie. I’m back at the Mermaids. Meg’s gone to San Francisco and we have the place to ourselves. When can you be here?” He looked down at his pasta and tried to decide if he could eat and talk at the same time. He switched his phone to his right hand and brought the fork to his mouth with the left. Being left-handed, it was much harder to do it the other way around.
“Terrence, I need you to come to Martha’s house. We were going through Lucy’s things and I found something I think you need to see.”
He groaned and put his fork back down. “I was hoping we could be together here. Can’t you tell me over the phone and then come back here? I miss you something fierce.”
He heard her catch her breath, and sensed the river of molten sensual need that always pulsed through her. He knew her eyelids had dropped to half mast, knew she was getting soft for him.
“Terrence, I’d love to, really, so much. I love that you miss me, too, but I think you need to do something with this.”
“What is it?”
“It looks like Lucy had a copy of the hospital records from when Lenore was born hidden in a magazine. And I’m no medical expert, but I think maybe they might be important.” She made her voice a whisper. “Maybe why she was killed?”
“All right, you’ve got me, I’m on my way. What’s the address?”
He looked longingly at his plate of pasta, thought about the heat in Anne’s voice, then stuffed one huge bite into his mouth and put the plate next to the sink. Maybe they’d have a big dinner tonight. In bed with any luck.