They were gone in seconds, leaving Emma with the awkward fate of dealing with Valerie alone, which was about the last thing she wanted after breaking up with Todd. Carolyn and Sally had definitely made the right move.
Turning to Valerie, she said, “So, uh, well it was nice to see you, Val.”
“Oh, you have to go too?” Valerie couldn’t have pouted any harder if she’d tried. “I’ve always thought we should hang out more often.” She sat down on the stool Carolyn had just vacated, pushing her Coach handbag down the bar until it sat in front of her. “Must be nice to just head off to the club for a drink, huh? I haven’t been able to go to the club since Linwood divorced me.”
Oh great, Emma thought. Like she really wanted to sit here and listen to Valerie throw yet another pity party about her divorce. A few awkward seconds played out while she finished her drink, all in three gulps. Dealing with Valerie on a regular basis would be one big drawback if she did decide to go after Linwood. “Enjoy your night out,” she said. “I need to go home.”
“Oh, sure.” Valerie bobbed her head with those dopey brown eyes, looking like some lost puppy.
Emma couldn’t wait to get away from her. The woman gave her the creeps, and she was like the death knell of a person’s social life in Grosse Pointe. No one liked her. Like, no one.
Getting to her car, parked around the corner on a quiet residential street, Emma realized she’d had far too much to drink. Her head seemed to swim, and for a minute she thought she might throw up. Instead, she dropped her car keys. They hit the asphalt, bouncing underneath her car.
“Great,” she muttered, kneeling down to retrieve them from behind the front tire. She was about to stand back up when she felt something slam down on her head. Everything went dark.
Chapter Twenty
Max LeBec studied the woman seated across the table from him. She was blonde, hair, parted on the side, and hanging to her chin…exactly like Carolyn Pringle’s and Peggy LeRoux’s. Even the platinum shade of blonde was the same. The hair reminded him of Veronica Lake, an actress from the old movies he watched on TCM. Max like old films. They reminded him that, while clothes may change, language may change, customs, culture, and laws may change, human nature remained its same old, stubborn, selfish self. Something to be overcome, rather than celebrated. He thought that now with Sally Hamilton, sitting calmly in the interview chair. Quite sure the world revolved around her, no doubt. Gray-blue eyes studied him as he looked at her, occasionally glancing around the beige walls of the interview room, but always coming back to look at him, like he was a curiosity to be observed.
“When did you last see Emma Elkins?” Max asked.
“Friday night at Rustics.” Sally answered promptly. Not the kind of answer that sounded rehearsed…more like the quick response of someone who already knew the answer and didn’t need time to think about it.
“Tell me about that night.”
“Well, like I said, Carolyn Pringle and I went out for drinks. We ran into Emma at Rustics. She’d had three shots of tequila, and she was on her third margarita when we got there. She’d just been dumped by that idiot from Birmingham…Todd, or whatever his name is. They’ve been dating for the last year.” She took a breath. “Can you believe that jerk dumped her right after four of her friends have been brutally murdered? What kind of low-life picks a time like that to dump someone?”
“I don’t know,” Max said. Defending the male species wasn’t his goal. “Did you talk about anything else besides what a jerk her boyfriend was?”
“We tried suggesting some guys in Grosse Pointe she could hook up with.” Sally let out a small laugh. “Carolyn about had a cow when I suggested Vaughn Humphries. Emma and Vaughn dated briefly, you know. Back before she got hooked up with Todd. In Carolyn’s mind though, Vaughn still belongs to her sister. Then I put my foot in my mouth again by suggesting Lin was now available. Emma and Katherine were pretty close, and well, suffice it to say that suggestion didn’t go over so well.”
“What time did you leave the bar?” Max asked.
“About 11 o’clock.”
“Did Emma leave with you?”
“No. Just Carolyn and I. We went to the club for a nightcap. People saw us there if you need to confirm.”
He didn’t. He’d talked to the wait staff at the club already. “Did you see or talk to anyone else while you were at Rustics?”
Sally made a face. “Just Valerie Jameson. That’s why Cara and I left, actually.”
“Because you ran into Valerie?”
Another face from Sally. “Because she had that look on her face, like she wanted to join in on our night out.”
“I take it you don’t much care for Valerie Jameson.”
“Good grief, no. First off, she had an affair with Lin while he was still married to Peggy, and then broke up his marriage by getting pregnant. And she can claim she didn’t know Lin was married all she wants, no one who matters believes it. Plus, that woman’s nothing but a social climber. And so obvious about it. Oh my God, when she was married to Lin, she was constantly at the club…coming up and talking to us all the time…dropping hints about how much she’d like to be included in all of our social events.”
“And you object to bringing new people into your social circle?”
“Well, it was annoying.” Sally’s voice had risen, signaling her defensiveness, and Max made a mental note to keep his questions more neutral. “Okay. So you and Carolyn left Rustics about 11 p.m., and went to the club. And Emma was still at Rustics when you left?”
“That’s right.”
“And you haven’t seen or heard from her since?” It had been six days, and Max didn’t have a good feeling about the outcome.
“No.” Sally shook her head emphatically. “No one has. And her parents are worried sick. Especially since most of the girls in her circle of friends have turned up dead.”
Max finished making notes. If there was anything else he should be asking her, he couldn’t think of it. This case was giving him an ulcer.
Chapter Twenty-One
Early Saturday afternoon at the City Kitchen was strangely quiet. Only two other tables were occupied. Aside from those tables and the employees, the only people in the restaurant were a couple bickering at the bar. Unable to quiet her thoughts, Bexley listened to them airing their grievances for everyone to hear. He’d bought her an engagement ring, but it was only one carat, and she really had wanted two. And how was she going to show her face to her friends with such a tiny diamond on her finger? She was going to die of embarrassment when they asked to see her ring. She wanted something she could show off and be proud of. And her beleaguered intended…well, he just kept apologizing, saying it was all he could afford, and maybe they could trade up in a few years when he was making better money. And then the girl saying if he was making better money, emphasizing the word “if.” Bexley listened to them, thinking if she was that guy, she’d tell that chick to forget it…be glad not to be stuck with her.
The arguing couple provided the only spark of life in an otherwise somber day. The entire Village had a post-apocalyptic feel…like something bad had happened to the world, and only the storefronts remained to bear witness. No one strolled the quaint downtown streets. No car engines hummed. No chatter played in the background like a skipping record. There were no teen-agers gathered on the street corners, or moms pushing baby buggies. Finding a parking spot on Kercheval had been easy as pie. She’d had her choice.
Bexley picked at her Cobb salad, her thoughts mired in possibilities…all the things that could go right…and the ones that could go wrong. And Nan, bless her heart, she was infinitely patient.
“So.” Her friend set down her wine glass, staring hard at Bexley. “You said yourself you believed Vaughn about never sleeping with Annie, and he had no connection whatsoever to Katherine. Why are you still so concerned about it?”
“I don’t know.” Bexley really wished she could explain. In her head, she could talk her
self out of every doubt that crept in. But her gut, that ephemeral something inside — vague and untouchable — just wouldn’t let her. “I can’t help thinking there must be some reason the police keep questioning him. What do they know that I don’t?”
“Nothing,” Nan said. “Shirley LeBec and I are good friends. I can’t believe she’d keep it from me if Vaughn was really a suspect.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” Bexley wanted to believe her, but she didn’t share Nan’s confidence that Shirley LeBec would divulge the suspect list. “There’s no good reason I can think of for my fears.”
“Then why hold onto them?”
“I don’t know. I just can’t get it out of my head that Eleanor Dodson suspected him enough to confront him. Eleanor, who’s known him since childhood and still thinks he belongs to her. If she’s suspicious of him, why shouldn’t I be?”
Nan sighed, going so far as to roll her eyes. “Good grief, Bex. Has it never occurred to you that Eleanor paid that little visit to Vaughn voicing her concerns specifically to make you suspect him…and create a problem between you two?”
Bexley shook her head. “Eleanor didn’t know I was there.”
“Really?” Nan gave her one of the stares she used when she wanted to shake some sense into someone…a pointed look, delivered with unblinking intensity. “Was your car in the driveway?”
“No. I parked in the street, just in case I changed my mind about seeing him.”
“Doesn’t matter. Trust me, she knew you were there.”
Bexley stopped picking at her salad, setting her fork down on the plate. “Okay. I get your point. But, she didn’t know I was there when she left her house to come and see him.”
“And you don’t know that she wasn’t stopping by for some other reason, and then saw your car parked in the street and decided to make her visit about something else.”
“How would Eleanor know it was my car?”
Her question made Nan laugh. “That woman’s probably got a complete dossier on you by now.”
“Oh great. But seriously, deciding on the spur of the moment to accuse Vaughn of being a serial killer — who does that?” A thought like that would never have occurred to her in a million years. “Can anyone even be that diabolical?”
“If it’s Eleanor we’re talking about, yes.”
Bexley felt like a fool, but still afraid to feel relief. And for that, she felt stupid. “Why am I letting Eleanor do this to me?”
“That’s an excellent question,” Nan said. “Maybe you should try and figure that out.”
“Hi, ladies. Figure out what?” Valerie approached their table, perky smile firmly in place.
“What to do about Mrs. Newbury’s kitchen,” Nan answered, keeping Bexley from blurting out the truth.
“Oh.” Valerie nodded, hovering over the table. “I’m sure whatever you do will be really nice. I love what you did with mine.”
“Thanks.” Bexley gestured at the empty chair beside her. “Would you like to sit down?”
Nan grimaced, an expression Valerie seemed not to notice as she scooted into the empty seat. “I’ll just stay a minute,” she said. “I’m picking up a to-go order. I barely have time to feed Lindy lunch before I take her over to Somerset for Harper’s birthday party. They’re going shopping and having their nails done.” Then sighing, she said, “I just can’t stop worrying about poor Emma. It’s been a whole week, and no one’s heard from her at all. Everyone’s so worried she’s the next one who’s going to be found dead.”
“No one knows what’s happened to Emma,” Nan said. She’d been shaking her head the entire time Val had been talking.
“Where do you think her body will turn up?” Valerie asked. “You know, I heard the police have set up security cameras around the country club. Obviously, they think Emma’s body will be left there, like all the other ones were.”
“I’m still hoping Emma’s not dead,” Bexley said.
“Oh, I know,” Valerie said. Her tone turned instantly sympathetic. “Everyone hopes that. But I mean, realistically, I think everyone knows how this is going to turn out.” She paused, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Her poor parents. I can’t imagine losing my child like that.”
“Hopefully, you never will,” Nan said.
From the look of disdain on her face, Bexley guessed she wanted to say more.
“Well, of course. Although, I’m raising my Lindy not to behave like those girls. Sleeping around with half the men in town. Partying. Drinking. Taking pills.”
“Surely you’re not suggesting these women are to blame for being murdered.” Bexley almost couldn’t believe she’d heard her right. Behind her, the couple at the bar finally stopped arguing, and Bexley lowered her voice, thinking of Hannah Ransom’s battered body, seeing it as clearly in her mind as the day it was wheeled out on the gurney. “No matter how badly they may have behaved, they didn’t deserve what was done to them.”
“Oh no! Of course not.” Valerie shook her head emphatically. “I just mean that you can decrease your chances of something bad happening to you if you don’t associate with bad people.”
“Well, I suppose that’s true,” Bexley said.
An awkward moment of silence followed with Nan wolfing down the rest of her burger, while Bexley moved hard-boiled eggs and avocado slices around her bed of lettuce, having once more lost the will to eat.
“Well, anyway, I should get going,” Valerie said, getting up from the table. “I need to get our food and get home before Lindy has to leave. I’ll see you tomorrow night, Bexley.”
“Right,” Bexley said. “Six o’clock at the Hill. I’ll see you then.”
As soon as Valerie was gone, Nan looked at her incredulously. “You’re having drinks with her tomorrow?”
“She kept asking me. I was starting to feel mean telling her no.”
“If you tell her yes once, she’ll never stop asking.”
“So you don’t think this is going to be a one-time thing?”
Nan laughed. “Not if Valerie has anything to say about it. She’s going to think you’re BFFs. In case you haven’t noticed, she has a clingy personality.”
“I’ve noticed,” Bexley said, imagining Valerie following her around town like a puppy dog. “You must think I’m an idiot.”
“No.” Nan gave her a sympathetic look. “I know how persistent Valerie can be. I just think she’s going to drive you a little nuts. She doesn’t seem to know how to give people their space.”
“Well, now you’re making me regret it.”
Nan laughed. “Oh don’t worry about it. You’ll have Vaughn as your excuse to beg off most invitations. And I think it’s sweet how you’re so considerate of other people’s feelings. It’s one of the things I like best about you.” She paused, then said, “Go out with Valerie tomorrow night. It’ll be fine. And so will everything with Vaughn.”
“Thanks.” Bexley managed a smile…one she almost felt. Maybe she really could put all her fears behind her. Nan was right. Tomorrow night with Valerie would be fine. Her relationship with Vaughn would be fine. And maybe Emma would even turn up alive and well.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“A jogger found Emma Elkins’ body at 5:30 this morning,” Valerie Jameson was saying.
Bexley rolled over in bed. It was 8 a.m. on Friday. She didn’t need to meet Mrs. Fuller with the paint samples until noon. She’d been looking forward to sleeping in. Going back to sleep now would prove impossible, with her stomach already tied in knots. “That’s terrible,” she finally said. “Poor Emma.”
“Yes. It’s such a shame,” Valerie said. “Anyway, I’m afraid I’m going to have to change our meeting time tomorrow from six to six-thirty. I’m dropping Lindy off at a sleepover.” Without taking a breath, or skipping a beat, she went straight from Lindy’s sleepover back to Emma’s body. “They found her sprawled face-down in the weeds on the shore of Lake St. Clair, halfway between the Yacht Club and Pier Park. You know, where Provenc
al dead-ends into Lakeshore.”
“How awful.” Flashbacks started then…the same one she’d had when she’d heard about Sophie and Katherine…the one where she saw Hannah Ransom’s body being wheeled out of the woods on the gurney… where she saw all those awful bruises and cut marks.
“I was so sure things would end up this way,” Valerie said. “I told Peggy LeRoux when I saw her at Somerset yesterday I had a bad feeling about this.”
“Right.” Bexley wished she’d shut up.
“Poor Vaughn,” Valerie said. “He dated Emma, you know. Before she started dating that guy Todd from Birmingham. I think Vaughn kind of liked her too. He told Linwood he’d date her again if she ever got tired of Todd.”
Bexley didn’t respond. Valerie’s words landed like a hand-grenade, stunning her into silence, and for once she wished Valerie would keep talking, give out more details, like why he’d stopped dating Emma and how long ago he’d said that to Linwood, but the damn woman went silent. It was as if she couldn’t wait to hear Bexley’s response.
“I need to get in the shower,” Bexley finally said, ending the call. Thinking as soon as she hung up, she wished she’d have come up with some reason to call off their girls’ night out tomorrow. Her stomach heaved.
She’d just stepped out of the shower when the doorbell rang. Wrapping her robe around her, she paused. Water dripped off her skin, pooling in little puddles on the floor. She considered ignoring whoever was at the door, but then the bell rang again, and she sighed. “Fine. I’m coming.”
“Good morning, gorgeous.” Vaughn stood in front of her when she opened the door, two cups of coffee in hand. “A large hazelnut.” He handed her a cup. “Your favorite.”
“It’s like you read my mind. Come in.”
He brushed his gaze over her robe. “Looks like I caught you at the perfect time.”
Grosse Pointe Page 14