03-Keeping Mum

by Alyse Carlson

  He stared at her like she’d just grown a third eye.

  “How often has she been here?” Cam asked.

  “Only once that I was, but everybody knew her so I figured she’d been here a couple times before.”

  “You don’t think she’ll be here tonight, do you?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Cam thought about Elle and her very recent reconciliation with her husband and doubted it. Elle had bigger things to manage, even if she was grieving for her brother.

  They were set up early, as Dylan was used to working alone, so Cam took a soft rag and began to wipe the brass rail that ran around the base of the bar. She had just finished when the first players began arriving.

  Cam listened and let Dylan greet people. She poured several drinks as they ordered, so Dylan could just grab them and deliver them immediately. She was surprised how well they worked together, considering she’d never waitressed before. She had managed a lot of parties, though, and the size of this crowd was far more comparable to that than a real restaurant.

  Cam recognized several faces as they came in, including the gambling trio Rob had pointed out at the funeral. The lawyer had a young man trailing him who came over to get their drinks, and she thought he looked a little familiar but couldn’t place him. The only face that gave her pause was Melvin Entwhistle. She hadn’t expected to see him in this environment. He looked at her closely, but must have decided he only recognized her from a similar job, as his face didn’t change expression.

  People continued to mill for a long while, renewing drinks and talking and laughing. Then, at a little before nine, a whale of a man with silver hair, black pants, and a pin-striped vest entered the room. He had a cigar, which would have been illegal had this not been a private residence. He lumbered to the far side of the main table and sat. The four men who were meant to play poker with him sat around him immediately as a hush fell over the room.

  “Who’s that?” Cam asked, as Dylan poured a bourbon on the rocks.

  “Harry Taggert. This is his house.”

  Cam’s knees nearly buckled. He was rumored to be a mobster, though he managed to never get caught at anything. Cam thought the pictures the newspaper had of him must have been fifteen years old. He was significantly heavier and grayer now, though she supposed the expression was familiar. She was pondering what a strange world this was that a known mobster would be a gardening buff when she heard her name.

  “Cam?”

  Cam was startled out of her observation and turned to see Elle standing at the bar.

  “Elle! How nice to see you.”

  “What are you doing here?” Her voice held suspicion, but it was quiet.

  “I’ll bring a drink right over to you, what would you like?”

  “Chardonnay, if you’ve got a good one.”

  She went and stood off from the crowd. Annie complained Elle was a bimbo, but she’d clearly gotten Cam’s hint that she would answer her question if they could have just a little privacy. She opened a new bottle of chardonnay and poured a glass, taking it to Elle.

  “Here you are,” Cam said in a normal voice, and then she lowered it to a whisper. “I’m trying to help figure out who killed your brother and why. My boyfriend is a reporter, but I was the one who had a way in here.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’m friends with the bartender. He said I could help.”

  Elle turned to stare at Dylan. “Interesting. Well, I’m all for your quest, so I certainly won’t say anything. I may not be the only familiar face here tonight, though. They’re donating half the winnings to a charity Mikey chose. Homeless kids. He wanted to build them a rec room—give them something to do off the street.”

  “That was nice of him,” Cam said.

  “It was. I’m in the game second round.”

  “Well good luck!”

  At that, a circle of women called Cam over and she took drink orders, though she had to ask Dylan to make them, as she had never made a dirty martini—in fact she wasn’t sure what one was.

  “It’s just extra olive-y,” he explained as he made it.

  Cam frowned as she watched. This had less appeal to her than, say, an appletini—something she had actually bothered to try. She had to stick to her “can’t handle the alcohol” policy too often to try many things like that. Mostly she just drank wine.

  She delivered the drinks and spotted something that hadn’t even occurred to her, though it should have when she learned the proceeds were going to Mike’s charity. Vera Windermere-Sullivan had just entered. Fortunately, she was shoving her fur coat at someone and so not looking in Cam’s direction.

  Cam put the last drink down and scrambled back behind the bar.

  “Shoot,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “She knows who I am. Rob and I met her earlier today.”

  “Who is she?” Dylan asked.

  “She hasn’t been here before?”

  “Why would she be?”

  “She’s Sully’s wife.”

  Dylan understood the ramifications immediately and bolted over to Vera to see what she wanted to drink and make sure she never had to look to the bar. Cam tried to think of a way she could change her appearance, but her shoulder-length hair was only so flexible, and Cam had had it down both when they were in the sauna and back when they’d swum together.

  She looked to the other side of the room, hoping she could keep it happy and Dylan could run the side Vera was on, along with the table that was the center of attention.

  She saw Melvin Entwhistle called over to consult with a man at the table, the one Rob had said at the funeral was Big Al, though he looked fairly svelte next to Harry Taggert. Melvin nodded a lot and then patted his breast pocket. Cam wondered what planet they were on that this was somehow considered investing, but it wasn’t really her business. She realized that another familiar face was also on the other side of the room—Heather Saunders, Derrick Windermere’s girlfriend. She was leering at Vera. Cam hoped Heather’s evil eye would keep Vera from looking toward her, and she hustled back to fill the drink orders she had just taken.

  “You realize this place is a time bomb,” she whispered to Dylan.

  “I’m getting that sense, yes.” He was grinning. She didn’t have time to ask what was so amusing, though. She thought they would both draw far less attention if they were completely efficient, so she hurried to keep up with the increased flow of alcohol.

  Her plan worked, right until the change in table participants. Harry Taggart stood and went through the door to the greenhouse, breathing in what Cam knew would be warm, humid air. She wondered why a man who liked that so much would also enjoy cigars. The two were opposite. The other players and observers took Harry’s hint and all got up to mingle. Suddenly everyone’s attention focused on a broader scope, and Vera spotted Cam. She started to make her way over to question Cam, but was intercepted. Time slowed to a crawl.

  Heather grabbed Vera’s shoulder and spun her. “What are you doing here?” Her volume was low, but the tone of it carried.

  Cam made her way over to Elle, who was casually seating herself at the poker table.

  “Do you know what this is about?”

  “Money. Vera is inheriting it, and Heather thinks it should be her. Probably she’s right. They lived together nine years, but Derrick treated her like a dog. Until Mikey died, though, I wanted Vera to have it because then Mikey would be set.”

  “Have they always fought like this?”

  “Not outwardly. They usually avoid each other. But Vera grumbled a lot. I’d bet Heather grumbled more, but she avoided me, too—knew I was Vera’s family.”

  At that point, though, Vera slapped Heather, and chaos ensued as several people tried to pull the women apart. Elle stood and gave a whistle that shocked Cam.

  “Heather, I know you’re upset about your loss. We’re sad for you, sweetheart. But tonight is about Mikey, so if you can’t leave his poor widow in peace, you probabl
y shouldn’t be here.” She sat down and took a sip of her drink. The majority of the other people in the room silently went back to what they were doing, but Cam saw two large men take Heather by the arms and escort her out.

  Vera finally made her way to Cam.

  “Are you following me?”

  “No! I had no idea you’d be here! I didn’t know this game was raising money for Mr. Sullivan until I got here. I’m just moonlighting. I swear.”

  “And how do you know my sister-in-law?”

  “We talked about Senator Schulz earlier. Remember?”

  Vera frowned and seemed to remember. “You’re sure this has nothing to do with me?”

  “What would it? I only just met you today.”

  “Could I get a dirty martini?” she asked.

  Cam nodded and rushed off. She thought she’d figured it out, so she just made the drink and rushed back with it. The woman needed to relax, and Cam thought she might benefit if Vera’s inhibitions were toned down.

  “Here you go,” Cam said, handing it to her.

  “I’m sorry I went off on you,” Vera said. “I just get paranoid. A woman with money has to be so careful.”

  “I imagine that’s true,” Cam said.

  “Do you come from money?”

  “Not particularly. We weren’t poor, but my dad was just a carpenter. I guess in those days it was decent, but not fancy.”

  “You’re lucky. You know who your friends are.”

  “You know, I’ve had a best friend for a very long time with the same issues, so I really do know what you’re talking about. Annie always handled it by being a little outrageous. If she was sort of out there, then the people concerned about appearances shied away. I guess in her family, it was more about power than money.”

  “She’s lucky she had the courage to do it that way. I really just relied on being a rebellious bad girl, but that got me about what I deserved.”

  “I don’t think anyone deserves to be taken advantage of, if that’s what you mean.”

  “No. I just married my bad boy, and . . .”

  She trailed off and Cam debated whether to probe.

  “Did he get mixed up with the wrong people or something then?” Cam said.

  “Oh, which set?” Vera said quietly.

  “There were lots of wrong people?” Cam asked, not sure she’d understood.

  “The loan sharks, the drug dealers, the money launderers. You can find all three right here.”

  Cam feigned shock but didn’t want to overdo it. “But they all seem to really have liked him.”

  “Sure. When he was paid up.”

  “I’m . . . um . . . sorry about that. I’m sure it was hard. Why didn’t you leave him?”

  She laughed bitterly then and handed Cam her empty glass. It had been too quick for as much alcohol as was in it, but Cam knew it worked in her favor, so she rushed back to make another one, ignoring an annoyed look from Dylan that she wasn’t pulling her weight with the other guests. She would catch up in a minute and help him out.

  “Here you go,” Cam said, handing her the drink.

  “Thank you. It’s just . . . leaving was never an option. Not for a shallow girl like me. Dad said he’d marry what’s-her-name if I didn’t stay married to Mike. That meant half or more of his fortune, which isn’t nearly so enormous as he pretended, would go to her. If he really was enormously rich, that would have been one thing, but I’m used to a certain lifestyle. I just couldn’t take that chance.”

  Cam doubted it would have left Vera clipping coupons. His fortune couldn’t be that small in reality, but she had some idea what wealthier people worked with. Derrick Windermere certainly had lived like a very wealthy man, so his daughter was used to that, too.

  “How did he do everything he did if he didn’t have . . .”

  “Oh, he wrote it all off! Wining and dining clients, travel, club memberships. All part of doing business with the people he did business with.”

  Cam wondered what job she could do that would require her to go for massages and get her nails done. She knew in spite of liking that kind of luxury, she actually had too strong a work ethic.

  “I should probably get back to helping out,” Cam said. More glares were coming her way than just Dylan’s, so she rushed to take care of several clusters of people. Now that she was in a hurry, she didn’t feel nearly as efficient at the task. In fact, she was beginning to feel a lot more sympathy for waitresses than she ever had before. It wasn’t that she’d thought they were lazy or anything, but it seemed a job anybody ought to be able to do. She found that being in a hurry, trying to remember too many things, and being constantly interrupted by people made for great difficulties in getting the right drinks to the right people.

  When shouting arose at the poker table, everyone seemed to forget they were still missing drinks. One of the men had stood and stormed to the door. He had Chad Phillips, who’d been trying to enter, by the collar, but the bigger news was an accusation at the table that one of the other players had stolen the man’s chips when he walked away. The man who’d walked away was Big Al, and Cam watched as Melvin pulled the man’s chair over backward and began hitting the man next to him in the face.

  Finally, the whale man, Harry Taggert, stood and shouted. “This is supposed to be a civilized game in memory of Sully! Sully was the best of us and we should be respectful!” He picked up Elle’s hand then and kissed it.

  Cam wondered if she should just get as far out of the way as possible or if people would remember they were thirsty any minute and start clamoring for their drinks again. She decided to err on the side of delivery. She thought she could watch for flying bodies, and hoped that Harry had actually just halted any other bad behavior, so she rushed to pour several drinks and get them to the next table on her list.

  Unfortunately, that was when Melvin spotted her, or rather, finally seemed to recognize her. He came toward Cam with unusual speed and grabbed her arm.

  “Well, don’t you seem to be everywhere?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Cam said.

  “You planned that little shindig where Windermere got offed, didn’t you?”

  Chad came over and the two had a whispered conversation, Melvin never letting go of Cam’s arm.

  Vera stood and stared at Cam. She hadn’t known that detail.

  “I helped with it, yes.”

  “And then what are you doing here?”

  “Chad?” Vera said. “This isn’t the place. You really shouldn’t be here,” she said. “And . . .” She gestured to Melvin, and Chad pulled at his arm so he finally let go of Cam.

  Chad made an ugly face and then turned to leave. Everybody backed away a step to let him pass like he was contagious. Cam thought it was over, but Vera rounded on her.

  “You were there when my dad died?”

  “Yes. I was working. I told you . . .”

  “So you really have been following me around?”

  Another woman neared them whom Cam only now recognized from the funeral. Cam tried to remember what her story that day had been. Something about working with Windermere, but she knew she was busted. What she didn’t know was how to spin this so it sounded perfectly reasonable. It was something she did well, but not on the fly. She had never been able to improvise well. She closed her eyes and tried to conjure Annie. Annie would have the perfect cover story.

  “Look, I know it all seems odd, but I swear. I was at both events because I am best friends with Annie Schulz. She asked me to help with the other, and Elle alerted me they might need help here. I just bought a new car and my savings is depleted, so they were both doing me a favor.”

  “The club?”

  “Complete coincidence.”

  “But you’re not thinking of joining?”

  “No. I thought we’d be treated better if we said that. Evangeline Patrick is a friend of mine, and I did her a favor recently, so she gave us a few guest passes. That’s all.”

  “You’re sure?” />
  “Positive. What was that all about?” Cam pointed to where Chad had just left.

  “You know who that is, don’t you?”

  “He’s a politician. I recognize his face, but don’t know him by name.” Cam hoped she could pull off this lie.

  “Well, I apologize for his paranoia, and more so for his friend’s.” She glared at Melvin. “I suspect he thinks you’re an enemy spy working to undermine his campaign.” She laughed then, which relieved Cam. Whatever relationship Vera had with Chad, she at least seemed to have a read on what he saw as important—him.

  All in all, Cam was glad when the night was finally over. Her feet ached, her brain was numb, and she felt like the stickiness from the soda dispenser would never come off. More than nineteen thousand dollars was collected for Mike Sullivan’s charity, something that amazed Cam, though she’d seen the guy there giving charity receipts to people, winners and losers alike, so there was a tax benefit. It was strange to imagine these thug do-gooders. It all seemed so contrary.

  She and Dylan took more than an hour to clean up after the place had cleared out.

  “Didn’t know you’d be bringing your own excitement,” he said.

  “Not on purpose! I had no clue those people would be here.”

  “I probably wouldn’t have guessed it, either, so don’t worry too much. Couple of fights, though? Especially that catfight. I was hoping . . .”

  “Yes, yes. That they’d get to hair pulling and wrestling and then they’d kiss,” Cam said.

  “No. I’ve just never seen a chick haul off and deck another chick before. Like a punch. I was hoping for blood.”

  Cam rolled her eyes.

  “Only because I sort of know this crowd. I wouldn’t want to see you in a fight like that or anything.”

  “That’s good, because I’m a major wimp.”

  “You are not. Are you forgetting you rescued me once?”

  Cam laughed. It was true. She, Annie, and Benny had rescued Dylan, but it had nearly been a fiasco.

  She was glad when they finally finished cleaning up and she could just sit in the passenger seat of his pickup with the window cracked.

  • • •

  • • •

  Rob was waiting for her when she got home. She was surprised to see it was barely past midnight. She kicked off her shoes and flopped onto her futon.