by Irene Brand
“But the night she was killed—wouldn’t he have gone upstairs to his room? Your heard somebody, presumably the murderer, going out the back door?”
“I heard steps going toward the back, but there’s a back stairway he could have used to go up to his apartment.”
“Let’s go back to his verbal attack on Juliet. What happened after that?”
“All of us were so shocked we didn’t know what to do. But Peg Henderson, his caregiver, and Sonya, the housekeeper, subdued him and took him back to his room.”
“All right, let’s discuss them. They were both here this afternoon.”
“Peg is a nurse who’s been living at Blanchard Manor for five years—ever since Grandfather’s Alzheimer’s became so bad. She wouldn’t have known my mother. She pretty much keeps to herself, but she moves around quickly, so she could have been in my room and back upstairs in four minutes.
“And as for Sonya, she’s been here for years. Besides, she was with Aunt Winnie in the storage room checking the linens when I found the note.”
“So that brings us to Miranda.”
Wide-eyed, Rissa said, “Surely you don’t suspect her!”
“I don’t suspect anyone in particular, but I need some background information on everyone. We have to remember that everyone who was here today was also in the house when your mother was killed.”
“Miranda has some peculiarities, but I can’t imagine her ever killing anyone. She’s always been bossy—taking her role as the oldest sister too seriously to suit Portia and me when we were teenagers. She stays in the house for weeks at a time, as if she’s afraid to go outside. I’ve tried to get her to visit us in the city, and you’d think I’d suggested taking her to the moon.”
“She must be quite a bit older than the rest of you.”
“No, she’s only seven years older than I am. She just looks older because of the dowdy clothes she wears. If she’d fix herself up, she’d look so much younger.”
“But we can’t rule out the fact that she did have more opportunity than anyone else to come to your room today.”
“While I have bugged her over the years, I don’t believe she would threaten me.”
Drew checked through his notes. “Portia wasn’t here this afternoon, but where was she when your mother was murdered?”
“She was in bed asleep when I came downstairs. She could always sleep through a storm. And when I rushed to our room after Miranda and I discovered the body, she was still sleeping.”
Drew made a few notes and scanned his notebook. Shaking his head, he said, “This doesn’t give me much to go on, but I appreciate your candor. What you’ve told me helps me understand the family situation much better.”
Rissa fidgeted in her chair, her slender fingers tensed in her lap. Awkwardly, she cleared her throat. This wasn’t going to be easy.
“Drew, you’ve been so kind to me in the past few days, and I think I should level with you. I’m going to tell you something that none of my family knows. I’ve sensed that you’ve had some doubts about whether or not I’ve been imagining things, and it is possible.”
His dark eyes widened in astonishment. She couldn’t look at him as she told him, so she cast her eyes downward.
“I don’t know if you’re aware that I’m a playwright, and my first show is just now appearing onstage. I’ve been under a lot of pressure the past year. I haven’t been able to sleep and sometimes when I do sleep, I have terrible nightmares. I reached the point when I thought I might be losing my mind. I feared it ran in the family, because my mother had postpartum depression after Juliet was born. I finally went to a psychiatrist, who diagnosed me with a case of mild clinical depression. She prescribed a low dose of antidepressants and as long as I take my medication, I don’t have any trouble. But I can’t explain what’s been happening to me the past few days. It’s terribly depressing to think you’re losing your mind.”
Her eyes came up to study his face and Drew was struck by the despair in her expression.
“You’re the sanest person I know,” he assured her in a calm voice. And he realized that he believed it—any doubts about her possible hallucinations dissipated like a heat wave after a gentle summer rain. “It often helps to talk your fears over with other people. Talk to me any time you want to.”
An expression of confidence showed in her eyes. “There’s no time like the present, if you have the time.”
“I have all night long,” he assured her with an infectious smile.
Her face broke into a smile, too, and she talked evenly as she recalled childhood incidents that had molded her life. “When I was a little girl, I was locked in a closet by mistake and no one found me for several hours. I was physically sick for days after that. A year ago, I was caught in a stalled elevator on the twenty-fourth floor of a high-rise with five other people. We were only in there about half an hour, but I was a basket case when we were rescued. They took me to the emergency room, and I was so hysterical they kept me in the hospital overnight.”
Talking about her consternation noticeably distressed her, and Drew said, “Everyone has a phobia of some kind. My greatest fear is going blind. One of my friends in elementary school went hunting with his dad and was blinded when a stray bullet hit him in the head. I’ve feared blindness since that day.”
For a moment Drew considered confiding in Rissa about his dysfunctional family that had marred his childhood. And also the medical issue that made his future look bleak. Maybe he would sometime, but not tonight.
“The psychiatrist also suggested that I take a daily dose of Scripture along with my prescribed medication and it has helped. My faith has become stronger.”
“Winnie and your sisters that I’ve met all display a sweet humility, and I feel that this is a result of your spiritual life. After you went upstairs last night, I took your advice and looked for a Bible. I read several chapters and was surprised at how many of the stories that I’d learned in Sunday school came back to me. One teacher insisted that we memorize a Bible verse every week.”
“Does one story in particular stand out for you?”
“The one that spoke to me more than any other was the parable of the Prodigal Son. As far as my Christian life is concerned, I’ve been wandering in a far country, and I think it’s about time for me to come home. Mick is real active in the work at Unity Christian Church, and he invites me to go with him every week. When we clear up this newest case at Blanchard Manor, I’m going to surprise him and go with him.”
She beamed a smile in his direction. “That will make me very happy.” She stood up and started toward him. He met her halfway. She gave him both of her hands. “You’re so kind to me.”
He pulled her into a brief embrace, and Rissa relaxed and enjoyed the closeness of him. Being held in his arms made her feel secure and safe. It was the kind of caress she would have given to anyone who had rededicated his life to a closer walk with God. But she knew it signaled something more. She not only found security in Drew’s arms, but peace, as well. Was she ready for what was developing between them? Without meeting his eyes, she eased out of his arms and moved toward the steps.
“Goodnight. You’ve helped me very much.” She sensed that his eyes watched her until she reached the top of the stairs and moved out of sight to her room.
After breakfast the next morning, Rissa asked Portia to take a walk with her along the driveway. Even though she still felt like a prisoner, having to stay in sight of the officer who alternately patrolled the grounds or parked near the gate, she couldn’t stay inside. Sometimes she envied Miranda and her mild agoraphobia, because she was content to stay inside the walls of the mansion. At times when her creative juices were flowing like a river, Rissa would stay in her apartment for a week at a time, living on cereal and crackers while she finished a scene in one of her plays. But for the most part, she walked every day.
Portia waited for her at the foot of the stairs. The temperature was much warmer today, and Rissa went upstairs to get a lig
hter jacket than the one she’d been wearing. But the wind was strong and she opened the top drawer of her dresser to get a scarf to tie around her head. As she rummaged for a scarf she often wore when she was home, her hand touched a sharp object. She lifted it and stifled a shriek.
It was a picture she had never seen before, in a gold frame. She had seen enough pictures of herself and Portia when they were little to know that the children were her twin and herself. Sitting between them was a young woman who looked like Juliet, so it must be their mother. Rissa had taken a nightgown out of this drawer last night, and the picture hadn’t been there. Her newfound faith in her sanity after she had talked with Drew suffered a jolt.
But she couldn’t be imagining this. It was broad daylight. She had just come upstairs from talking to Portia and Aunt Winnie. Her eyes were wide open. This could not be a dream! What was going on? Was somebody in this house trying to use her clinical depression to make her doubt her sanity? But she hadn’t told anyone about it except Drew. Rissa’s hands clenched when she remembered how she had talked to her grandfather the day she’d sat with him. But Peg had been gone and no one else had been on the third floor. Was Grandfather more lucid and mobile than any of them suspected? She couldn’t believe that her grandfather would harm her.
Since no one except Drew actually believed that she hadn’t imagined the wailing woman and the note that had disappeared as mysteriously as it had appeared, Rissa decided she wouldn’t mention this photo to anyone. Whoever had put the picture there might get curious about why Rissa hadn’t mentioned it and lead to a new clue in the case.
She wrapped a handkerchief around the picture to protect any lingering fingerprints. She unlocked her jewelry box, put the frame beneath her jewelry and locked the box. She usually kept this key with the other keys in her purse, but she removed it from the key ring, put it on a chain and hung it around her neck. Unless the jewelry box itself was taken, no one could make this picture do a disappearing act.
She had to conceal her inner feelings so that Portia wouldn’t suspect how uneasy she was. She joined Portia in the lower hall. Arm in arm they walked back and forth along the driveway. A few birds twittered in the hedge around the gazebo.
“Did you enjoy your lunch with Mick yesterday?”
“Yes, but both of us are upset because our wedding is on hold. He wants to take off time for a honeymoon when we get married, but he won’t consider going away as long as so many crimes are unsolved. He’s still skeptical about the death of that private investigator, Garrett McGraw, wondering if the evidence implicating Mick’s former perp of the murder was all phony. He’s worried about his job if he and Drew can’t learn what’s going on. He won’t marry me without any job security. I understand his position, but I’ve waited a long time for happiness.”
“We could still do some preliminary shopping if you want to.”
“I’ll ask Mick if it’s all right for us to leave for the day. But it’s hard to make plans when we don’t even know when Mother’s funeral will be. Have you heard anything about that?”
“Aunt Winnie told me that her body has been brought to the funeral home, but it may be a week or more before we have the funeral.”
“Surely that isn’t right!” Portia protested. “Why wait so long? I can’t stand any more delays.”
Rissa said sarcastically, “There apparently isn’t a casket in the state of Maine that Father thinks is appropriate for his ‘beloved’ wife, and he’s having one made out of walnut wood that has been cut from the Blanchard forests and kiln dried. He’s also having a mausoleum erected for her interment and for future Blanchards.” She shuddered inwardly, thinking of being penned up in a granite tomb. But knowing that when she died, regardless of where her body was placed, she would spend eternity with God calmed her anxious thoughts.
“That makes me sick to my stomach,” Portia said. “How can he be so two-faced? All of these years I’ve never heard a good word out of him about our mother, and he puts on this pretense after she’s gone.” She lowered her voice. “The way he’s carrying on makes me wonder if he really did kill her and he thinks he won’t be suspected if he acts like the grieving widower.”
“Don’t even think it! I couldn’t bear to learn that Father had deliberately killed Mother.”
“I know what you mean, but in some ways he had already killed her for us by pretending all of these years that she had died.”
“Have you ever been sorry you were born a Blanchard?” Rissa asked, slanting a pensive look toward her twin.
“More times than I can count on ten fingers at least.”
“Well, we can’t change our past, but I pray that I’ll have the courage in the future to forget I’m a Blanchard and try to find some happiness in life.”
As she spoke, Rissa wondered what it would take to make her satisfied with her life. She had thought success in her career would be the ultimate happiness. But now that she could be considered a successful playwright, something still seemed to be missing.
Suddenly Rissa thought of Drew and how quickly their slight acquaintance had turned into friendship. Or was it more than friendship? Did her future depend on a deeper relationship with Drew?
NINE
Rissa supposed that she would always have lapses when she wondered about the extent of her depression. As soon as she went to her room after her walk, she checked to see if the picture was still in her jewelry box. Hallelujah! The picture was there. She felt a satisfied smile spread across her face.
She studied her mother’s face, trying to connect it to the face of the woman who’d been murdered in the library. Tears stung her eyes as she mourned the mother she had never known. She hurriedly dropped the picture in its hiding place and locked the jewelry box when she heard Portia’s footsteps approaching.
“I suppose it’s out of the question to go to Portland to shop, but let’s at least go into town tomorrow,” Portia said. “Peg told me there’s a card shop on Beaumont Avenue that carries a lot of wedding supplies, like invitations, favors and all. We can check that out.”
“I’d like to do that,” Rissa said. “I need to stop in the drugstore for a few things.”
She wouldn’t tell Portia that she had mislaid her prescription, because it was easier for her if no one knew about her depression. She always kept it in her purse rather than on a dresser or in the bathroom. She didn’t know how it could have disappeared out of her purse. And it worried her that some member of the family would find the bottle before she did. Fortunately, she had just gotten an extended prescription before she’d left New York, and she would have no trouble getting a refill in Stoneley.
Since Ronald didn’t go out that evening, Rissa didn’t dare spend much time with Drew. As soon as Ronald went into his office after dinner, Rissa approached Drew, who sat in a chair near the entryway where he could see the staircase, the upstairs hallway and entrances to some of the rooms.
“I’ll say good-night now.”
“I’m taking twenty-four hours off starting tomorrow morning. Another officer will be on duty, so don’t be afraid.”
“I feel safer if you’re here, but I know you need time off. Portia and I are coming into town tomorrow for the same reason. For one thing, I’ve lost my medication and I need to get another bottle of it.”
“If you aren’t able to sleep without it, I’ll be here if you want someone to talk to.”
“Oh. I have a few pills left. Right now, I feel more relaxed than I’ve felt for several days.”
He pushed himself into a standing position, and his eyes caught and held hers. Without touching her, he leaned forward and brushed a gentle kiss across Rissa’s lips. His lips were warm and sweet on hers. She caressed his cheek before she turned and walked swiftly upstairs.
Rissa didn’t know how long she would have slept the next morning if Portia hadn’t nudged her at seven o’clock.
“Hey, twin,” she said. “Breakfast is in a half hour. You’d better rise and shine!” Portia drew ope
n the draperies and sunlight flooded the room.
Rissa pulled a blanket over her head to shield her eyes from the light.
“Come on,” Portia said, pulling back the covers. “Miranda and I have both finished in the bathroom. Hurry!”
“I feel like a new person this morning. I haven’t rested much since I got home,” she said, wondering how much Drew’s kiss had to do with her improved vitality.
She walked to the window and opened it, inhaling deeply of the breeze from the ocean. “It looks like this will be a beautiful day. Let’s concentrate on enjoying it, instead of dwelling on what’s been happening.”
“I’m with you. We’ll leave for town as soon as Father goes to work. I’m sure he would forbid us leaving the property, but I can’t see that we’re showing any more disrespect by going shopping and to lunch than he is when he’s going to work.”
It was half-past ten before Rissa and Portia started for Stoneley, with Portia seething because the officer at the gate wouldn’t let them leave until he okayed it with Mick.
Portia insisted on driving her vintage VW rather than riding in Rissa’s Porsche, saying that she had to get used to the kind of life she would live as the wife of a small-town police detective. “All of us can’t live like successful playwrights.”
“Stop teasing me. I feel at peace with the world this morning, and I don’t want to be pestered.”
Portia laughed as she whizzed past the guard at the gate, and Rissa didn’t know if she was laughing at him or at her.
The VW might have been old but it was fast, and the town of Stoneley soon came into sight.
When she had graduated from high school, Rissa couldn’t wait to see the last of Stoneley, but she had to admit that the town was remarkable for its picturesque harbors and the rugged peninsulas that provided breathtaking scenery. Not far offshore was a nineteenth-century lighthouse that still protected mariners along the coast of Maine.
Although tourists had thronged the streets during the Winter Festival in February, usually throughout the rest of the winter Stoneley didn’t get many visitors. But the springlike weather must have enticed them to visit today because Portia had trouble finding a parking place. She crawled along Pine Street and luckily found an empty space just a few doors from the card shop where she wanted to shop for wedding favors and invitations.