by Sue Grafton
She’d smoothed on the first two coats of frosting before I arrived and she was now piping an elaborate design on the top. “This is for a kid’s birthday party. Actually, a thirteen-year-old who’s into Dungeons and Dragons, in case you’re wondering.”
She’d set up a series of parchment-paper cones, each filled with a different vividly tinted icing, each capped with a metal tip cut to produce a specific effect—leaves, shells, scrolls, flower petals, and rope bordering. With a practiced hand and steady pressure, she created a dragon with a strange dog-shaped face. Switching cones, she defined its arched body in vibrant lime green and orange frostings, and then added strong red frosting to detail the flames that twisted from the dragon’s mouth.
“I’ve seen that dragon. It was on a kimono hanging on the back of Daisy’s bathroom door.”
“That was her mother’s. I’ve got the image burned indelibly on my brain.”
I felt myself tripping backward to the notion of Violet buried alive, as though I were in the car instead. Given the size of the Bel Air, there would have been sufficient oxygen to last for a while. The suffocation would have been slow, shutting her down by degrees. Anyone with asthma or emphysema would identify with her panic and suffering. I could only guess. Still, I found myself breathing deeply for the pure pleasure and relief.
When Liza finished decorating the cake, she opened the refrigerator door and tucked it on a shelf. She untied her apron and tossed it over the back of a kitchen chair. “What’s this about?”
I’d hoped to be subtle, working my way around to the subject by some delicate route, but I’d been sidetracked by the image of the dragon and came right out with it. “I think you lied about Foley.”
“I did?” She seemed taken aback, her tone tinged with surprise, as though falsely accused. Thousands might have lied about Foley, but surely not her. “About what?”
“The time he came in.”
She picked up and then put down the tube of bright blue icing she’d used to form the ground on which the dragon writhed. Apparently my approach wasn’t that persuasive because she didn’t ’fess right up.
I tried again. “Look, Liza. His story’s been consistent for the past thirty-four years. He may have omitted an item or two, but most claims he’s made have been verified.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I did the work myself and I’m here to testify.”
“I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
“Liza, please don’t play games. It’s too late for that. My guess is he got home when he said he did and your account was just bullshit.”
“What do you want me to say, that I’m sorry?”
“No point apologizing to me. He’s the one you wronged.”
“I didn’t wrong him. Everything that’s happened to him he brought on himself.”
“With a little help from you.”
“Excuse me. Did you come over here to lay shit on me? Because that, I can do without. I’ve got a lot going on.”
I raised my hands. “You’re right. I take it back. Life is tough enough as it is.”
“Thank you.”
“Just tell me what happened. Look, I’m sorry about Violet, but I don’t understand what went on that night. Were you in the house or not?”
“Kind of.”
“Meaning what? Somewhere in the neighborhood?”
“Don’t be a shit or I won’t say another word.”
“Sorry. I forgot myself. Please go on.”
There was a pause and then, reluctantly, she said, “Ty came to the house. He parked his truck in the alley and we necked. I was less than twenty feet away so if anything had happened, I’d have been right there. Violet knew he was coming over because we talked about it and she said it was fine.”
“Good. That helps. How long was he there?”
“A while. When I finally came in, the bedrooms were dark. I looked in Daisy’s room and knew she was okay. I never thought to check their bedroom. He was probably there if he said he was. Afterwards, I couldn’t admit I was irresponsible so I made up a story about the time. Next thing I knew, this deputy was pressing me for answers so what was I supposed to do? By then, I’d painted myself into a corner and I had to stick to my guns.”
“Got it.”
“Good. So now you know.”
There was a moment wherein she was thinking that the subject was closed and I was thinking we were finally going to get some place. I had a theory and I was gingerly feeling my way. “You went to live with your dad in Colorado, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I hear that arrangement didn’t work out so hot.”
“It was short-lived. A failed experiment, but such is life.” She crossed to the kitchen faucet where she dampened a sponge so she could wipe down the counter. Preoccupied, she scooped a few crumbs into her palm and tossed them into the sink.
“Is this painful to talk about?”
She smiled briefly. “I don’t know. I’ve never had occasion to talk about it.”
“The first time we met, do you remember what you said?”
“About what?” She moved her decorating tips aside, wiping under them as well.
“Losing Violet and Ty. You said, ‘You play the hand you’re dealt. There’s no point in dwelling on it afterwards.’”
“I must have been waxing philosophical. It doesn’t sound like me.”
“Did you get pregnant?”
Her eyes sought mine. “Yes.”
“From that night?”
“First and last time with the guy and boom.”
“What happened to the baby?”
“I put her up for adoption. Would you like to see a picture?”
“Please.”
She set the sponge aside and reached for the heart-shaped locket, pulling it out from under the bib of her apron. She opened it and leaned forward, holding it so I could see. There was a black-and-white photograph of Violet. She flipped the inner rim, revealing a second frame hidden behind the first. In it there was a photo of a newborn. The baby looked frail and wizened, not one of the worst I’d ever seen but certainly not the best. Liza looked down, her expression wistful and proud. “She was so tiny. I couldn’t believe it when I saw her, how delicate she was. Know what Violet said when she gave me this? She said, ‘That’s for your true love. I predict within a year you’ll know exactly who it is.’ And so I did.”
“Did you get to hold her?”
“For a while. The nurse advised against it, but I knew it was the only time I’d ever get to spend with her. I was fourteen years old and my father wouldn’t consider my doing anything else. I should have stayed with my mom. Despite her problems, she was a good egg and would have found a way to make it work.”
“You have no idea where the baby is?”
“Probably in Colorado. A few years ago, I wrote her a letter and left it with the agency so if she ever wants to reach me, she’ll have my name and address.”
“Ty never knew?”
“I’d have told him, I think, if I’d ever heard from him.”
“I talked to him.”
“I know. He called me right afterward and said you’d given him my name and number.”
“Only your married name. He looked up your phone number on his own, which I think should count in his favor. He said he wrote to you. Did he tell you that as well?”
She nodded. “His mom probably intercepted his mail. Or maybe the letters reached my mom and she never sent them on.”
“Or maybe she sent them to your father’s house and he decided not to let you know.”
“That would fit. What a shit-heel he was. I’ve scarcely spoken to him since. I’m sure he thought he was doing what was best. God save us from the people who want to do what’s best for us.”
“What happens now?”
“I guess we’ll wait and see. Ty said he’d call again and we’d find a way to get together. Wouldn’t that be strange after all these years?”
“Will you tell him about his daughter?”
“Depends on how it goes. In the meantime, are the two of us square?”
“Totally.”
She flicked a look at the clock. “Your appointment’s at nine?”
“It is. I’ll hang out at Daisy’s until I have to hit the road.”
“Why don’t you stick around? Kathy should be here any minute. You could wait and say hello.”
“To tell you the truth, I’m not all that fond of her, but thanks anyway.”
Liza laughed. “What about Winston?”
“Him, I like.”
“Well, he’s apparently on the warpath and she’s furious. That’s what she’s coming over to discuss.”
“Wow. I’m surprised. I’d love to hear about that.”
As though on cue, the doorbell rang and then Kathy opened the door and banged in with a bottle of white wine in hand. She tossed her purse on a chair, saying, “That guy is such an asshole!”
She was wearing heels and hose, a T-shirt, and a floral cotton skirt that was slightly too short for the shape of her legs. She stopped when she saw me. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you had company. I can come back later if you’re tied up.”
“No, no. Not a problem. Kinsey’s met Winston, but I’m sure her lips are sealed.”
I raised my right hand, as though being sworn in.
Kathy was in motion again, coming into the kitchen, where she placed the bottle on the counter. “Well, shit. I don’t care who knows about the prick. It serves him right.” She went about the business of opening the wine—cutting the foil, augering out the cork. She crossed to one of the kitchen cabinets and removed three wineglasses, which she lined up on the counter. I declined, so she filled the other two and handed one to Liza.
It was odd to see the contrast between the two blondes. Liza’s features were delicate—straight nose; fine, flaxen hair; and a wide mouth. She was slender, with small hands and long, narrow fingers. Kathy’s hair was thick, with a slightly frizzy wave that probably got worse when the humidity went up. She was built along sterner lines, with the look of someone who has managed to lose weight but will surely gain it back.
Liza said, “So what’s he gone and done?”
“He hired a divorce attorney. That guy, what’s-his-butt, Miller, the one whose brother got killed.”
Liza wrinkled her nose. “Colin Miller? Kathy, that’s bad news. He’s horrible when it comes to women. I don’t know how he gets away with it. He must have an in with the judges because his clients do great and all the ex-wives end up screwed. Joanie Kinsman wasn’t awarded enough support to cover the mortgage. She was forced to live in her car until Bart came along.”
“Perfect. That’s just what I need. I don’t know what got into him. He must have been burning up the phone lines because the jerk got me served. Can you believe it? I get home from my tennis lesson and there’s a process server on my doorstep, shoving all this shit in my face. I felt like a criminal. And get this. He’s refusing to leave. Last week I talked him into finding his own apartment and everything was set. Now he won’t budge. He says he’s paying for the house and he intends to live there and if that doesn’t suit me, I can move out myself. Where does he get off? You know what else he said? He says if I give him any guff, he’ll default on the loan, quit his job, and take off.”
“Geez, that’s extreme. Have you talked to your dad?”
“Of course! I called and told him everything.”
“What’d he say?”
“He said I should keep my mouth shut and get a good attorney of my own. He says Winston’s a great manager and as much as it would grieve him, he’d have to hang with him.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, ouch. Anyway, I’m sorry to bust in. I know I sound like a raving lunatic, but I’ll be feeling better in a minute. Cheers.” She lifted her wineglass in a toast and then drank it half down. I could hear her epiglottis working with every gulp she took.
Liza took a sip of wine and set it down. She was fiddling with the sponge again, but she wasn’t cleaning much. “Guess who called?”
For an instant Kathy seemed surprised that someone other than herself would be the topic of conversation. “Who?”
“Ty.”
“Eddings? You’re putting me on. Talk about a voice from the past. What the hell did he want?”
“Nothing. He was calling to touch base. He lives in Sacramento.”
“Doing what?”
“He’s a criminal lawyer.”
“Oh, please. Given his history, I’m surprised he didn’t wind up in jail.”
“I guess he saw the error of his ways.”
“Fat chance of that,” Kathy said. “Anyway, I called Winston the minute the process server left. I was so damn mad, I could hardly keep a civil tongue. I mean, I managed, but just barely—”
“He told me your mother was the one who blew the whistle on us.”
That stopped her cold. “Are you serious? Well, that’s weird.”
“According to Ty, Livia called his aunt Dahlia, who turned around and called his mom. And that’s why she drove in and hauled him off.”
“Huh, that’s funny. I had no idea.”
“Me neither. I was shocked.”
“Maybe she did you a favor.”
“A favor?”
“Come on. The guy was a loser. You were so ga-ga over him, you couldn’t even see straight.”
“Why was that any of Livia’s concern?”
“Liza, you know how judgmental she was. She thought she was right. You were barely fourteen years old and had no business taking up with the likes of him. If Ty’s mother hadn’t showed up, no telling what kind of trouble you’d have gotten yourself into. All that petting? Get real. Can’t you see that he was setting you up?”
“But how’d she find out?”
“What?”
“We know Livia told Dahlia, but who told her?”
“Don’t look at me. All the kids at school knew. That’s all they ever talked about—the fact that the two of you were fooling around. I can’t tell you how many times I had to come to your defense.”
Liza looked at the counter. “Really.”
“Trust me. I was on your team. Remember Lucy Speiler and that guy she was hanging out with? What a mess he was—”
“Kathy, don’t go on and on. You’re the one who told.”
“Me? I can’t believe you’d say that.”
“Well, I did. You were jealous of Violet and you were jealous of Ty. Remember the day you brought over my birthday gift and I wasn’t home? You went to my room and read my diary and that’s what you told your mom. God knows why. Maybe you thought you’d been anointed to save my immortal soul.”
“Maybe I was. Did it ever occur to you how gullible you were? You were so pathetic. Violet could make you do anything. Whatever she wanted—didn’t matter how outrageous it was—you’d lie down, roll over like a pup, and start licking her hand.”
“We were friends.”
“What kind of woman makes friends with a thirteen-year-old? You know why she did that? Because no one her age would have anything to do with her. She was cheap. She was sleazy and she slept all over town. She’d have liked nothing better than to have you in the same boat with her. You know what they say, misery loves company.”
“You didn’t know her the way I did.”
“I knew her well enough. Same thing with Ty. He might have been cute, but he had no class at all. Anyway, enough of this. It’s over and done. There’s no sense going over the same ground twice.”
“I agree. We can’t change the past. No matter what went down, we’re accountable.”
“Exactly.” Kathy reached for the bottle and topped off her wine, wiping her mouth against the back of her hand. “Lola says I should talk to that divorce attorney from San Luis Obispo. Stanley Blum. He’s a real shark according to her. He charges a fortune, but he’s good. She says I gotta fight back, and I better be quick.”
“You remember Moral Rearmament?”
“Ha. You’re talking to the all-time champ here. Moral Rearmament was my middle name.”
“You still think it’s right? Absolute Honesty?”
“Are you kidding? Of course.”
“And that’s what friends do, help one another when we stray from the path?”
Kathy rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Look, Lies, don’t think I’m unaware of your snotty tone. You can be as mad as you want, but I did it for you. I agonized—honestly—but I had to follow my conscience. I make no apology for that so I hope you’re not waiting for one. You want to blame me? Well, fine, you go right ahead, but you should be thanking me instead. What if you’d ended up married to the guy? Have you ever thought about that?”
“Aren’t you even sorry?”
“Haven’t you heard a word I said? I’m not going to apologize for doing what I thought was right. I didn’t want you making a mistake you’d regret for the rest of your life.”
“Never mind. All right. I get that.”
“At long last.”
“I guess, if it came down to it, I’d do the same for you.”
“I know you would and I appreciate your saying that. You’re a good friend.” Kathy leaned forward as though to hug her, but Liza remained upright and Kathy was forced to convert the gesture into something else. She brushed a speck from her skirt and then took another sip of wine with a hand that trembled slightly.
“As a matter of fact, I did.”
“Pardon?”
“I did the same thing for you. You meddled in my life so I decided I should meddle in yours.”
Kathy lowered her glass.
Liza’s tone was mild but her gaze was unwavering. “I called Winston this afternoon. I told him about Phillip.”
“You told him?”
Liza laughed. “I did. Every last detail.”
I hadn’t meant to stay at Liza’s as long as I did, but once Kathy left, we had to sit and do a postmortem. Liza seemed lighter and freer than I’d ever seen her. We laughed and chatted until I happened to glance at my watch. 8:39. “Wow, I gotta get out of here. I didn’t realize it was so late. Where’s the sheriff ’s substation?”
“It’s on Foster Road over by the airport. Here, I’ll draw you a map. It’s not hard,” she said. “The quickest route is to cut down from Highway 166 to Winslet Road on Dinsmore.”