by B. T. Lord
“That’s alright,” Doc replied, even as Cammie’s stomach began to growl.
“Samuel said you were very close to your Aunt Helen,” she asked in the hopes conversation would cover up the grumblings in her belly.
“Besides Uncle Samuel and Daddy, Helen was the only one who encouraged me to paint. I know she could be difficult with people, but she was never that way with me.”
“Did you ever visit her up in Allagash?”
Abby nodded. “As a matter of fact, the painting I’m working on now was inspired by a visit she and I took to Bar Harbor last year. It was my twenty-first birthday present from her. We had such a lovely time. I just can’t believe she’s gone--” Her eyes began to tear up again.
Doc gave her shoulders an affectionate squeeze. “I know this is difficult.”
“Who would want to kill her?” She responded. “Who would want to do this to an old woman?”
“Did she ever talk to you about her relationship with the locals?” Cammie gently asked.
“Ever since I heard about her death, I’ve been thinking about that, trying to remember if she ever said anything to me. We talked about so much, it’s hard to recall anything specific. About the only thing I do remember is the last time I stayed with her at her cabin. It was two years ago, I think. Mummy was giving me such a hard time about my art. I just had to get away so I spent a week with Helen. I remember when I arrived, she was on the phone and I could tell she was upset.”
“Did you overhear any of it?” Doc asked.
She nodded. “I heard her say something like, ‘you’re never going to get away with that. I’ll sic my lawyers on you,” or something to that effect. When she saw me, she said she had to go and abruptly hung up.”
“You never found out who she was talking to?”
Abby shook her head. “It was obvious she didn’t want to get into it, so I just let it go.” Her eyes watered again. “Oh God, maybe if I’d been insistent…maybe if I’d demanded she tell me who she’d just threatened…” She began to sob.
Doc leaned over her. “Sweetheart, if Helen didn’t want to talk about something, you only would have made her angrier by asking. You can’t feel guilty over a conversation that happened two years ago.”
Cammie knew she should let this all go. She wasn’t the investigating officer. She was only here to help her friend out. But she couldn’t help it. Doc was right. She was addicted to gathering information about people, no matter how small or insignificant. She had to ask questions the same way she had to breathe. It was a necessary part of her life. She therefore waited until Abby calmed down before she asked, “How would you describe Helen’s relationship with her family? With her brother, her daughter?”
Her question earned her a glare from Doc, which she ignored. She kept her focus on Abby.
“She never talked about them, but at family reunions, I could see that her relationship with Grandpapa was about the same as mine with Mummy. It’s not that we don’t love each other, but it’s so difficult sometimes. I know Grandpapa was upset that she was encouraging my art. He thought I should finish my degree at Harvard Law.” She made a face. “As if. As for Lily, I don’t know anybody in the family that gets along with Lily. She’s so—so-”
“Full of herself? Pretentious? Ridiculous? A drama queen?” Doc offered.
She laughed through her tears. “Yeah, pretty much. The only time Helen ever mentioned Lily was one night when we were having dinner at Ramon’s in Bar Harbor.”
“How is Ramon?” Doc asked.
“He’s wonderful. His son just had another daughter.”
“So that makes two granddaughters?”
“Yes. Anyway, I was telling her about the latest argument I’d had with Grandpapa over not returning to law school. She rolled her eyes and said that Grandpapa could be just as difficult as her daughter Lily. ‘It’s in the genes’, she said. Then she added that it was no wonder her husband had left her.”
“Wait a minute,” Cammie spoke up. “I thought she and Charles were happily married.”
Abby shrugged. “Before I could ask her about that, she changed the subject. She could be so secretive sometimes. It drove me crazy.”
“So either of you don’t know when this separation happened?” They both shook their heads. “Abby, did Helen ever mention a man named Rob?”
Abby thought for a moment. “I have a second cousin named Rob.”
“How old is he?”
“Fourteen.”
After another glare from Doc, Cammie thought it best to refrain from asking any more questions if she didn’t want to find herself spending the night on a park bench. Instead, as Abby and Doc caught up on family gossip, as well as her upcoming art shows, Cammie tuned them out while she ruminated over the interesting little tidbits she’d heard, not only at Lily’s home, but here with Abby.
When they were back in the Navigator, Cammie turned to Doc. “I’m curious about the possibility of Charles leaving Lily. I know, I know,” she said as she saw Doc’s look. “But I just can’t help myself.”
“You seriously need some counseling. There must be a group of Nosybody Anonymous somewhere in the white pages.” He paused as a mischievous smile played across his lips. “Though I do have to admit, I’m a little intrigued myself. The only person who might be able to shed light on that is Bitsy. Although Helen could be circumspect about her own little secrets, I know she unburdened herself about Lily with Bitsy. Tell you what, why don’t we grab some lunch? I could hear your stomach rumbling a mile away. Then I’ll give her a call and see if she’s up to seeing us again.”
As Doc pulled out of the parking lot, Cammie glanced up at the building they’d just come out of. “Doesn’t anyone in your family live in a basement studio apartment?”
Doc gasped in horror. “Whatever for?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
They drove a few short blocks to a steakhouse that opened out to the harbor. Surrounded by businessmen and women in high powered suits and their ever present cellphones, Doc and Cammie were shown to a table next to the floor to ceiling windows. Looking around at the expensive clothing and jewelry surrounding her, Cammie was happy she’d opted for her pseudo-preppy outfit. She would have looked completely out of place in her usual jeans and sweatshirt. Then again, this entire trip had her feeling pretty much out of place. As much as she cared for Doc, she couldn’t wait until this was all over with so she could return to Twin Ponds where she belonged.
That thought brought a smile to her face as she took a moment to watch the seagulls on the other side of the glass swooping up and down near where they sat.
When she’d lived in Boston a little over 18 months ago, the last place she thought she’d ever feel at home in, much less return to was Twin Ponds. She’d left a lot of heartache behind when she’d turned her back on her hometown sixteen years before, vowing never to step foot in it again. Yet, somewhere deep inside, it had never ceased calling out to her; its forest and ponds beckoning her to give them one more chance – to convince her that what she’d left behind could be healed and moved past. If only she had the courage.
The last six months had shown her how true that was. She was finally in a place, not only in her life but on the map, where she could truly say she was happy. It had taken a lot of surrendering and ‘sitting in her own shit’ as her friend, the wise shaman and healer Paul Langevin would say. “Only you can heal you,” he told her. “I can give you the tools, but you need to do the work.”
He pointed out she basically had two choices. Continue to hold onto the baggage of the past that was guaranteed to continuously trip her up and keep her from any chance at happiness, or find the courage and determination to dig in, look at her issues, forgive whoever and whatever needed to be forgiven – including forgiving herself, and let it go.
Looking at both options, and knowing how close she’d recently come to dying, she knew which one she had to choose. It hadn’t been easy. At times, she’d been ready to give up. It was easie
r to keep kicking the baggage under the bed than face it. But after reconciling with Jace, she knew she didn’t want to keep dodging all her issues surrounding relationships that would be lying there between them until they were healed.
There were yet a few things she needed to work on. She and Jace were still in the stages of cautiously circling each other, not quite ready to truly let go and be themselves after the anguish they’d recently put each other through. But they both knew it and were slowly working to get back to a place of believing that no matter what life threw at them in the future, they would always have each other’s back.
Glancing at Doc, she could only hope that he’d find the courage to move past his own heartaches, and embrace the happiness and peace that lay in that quirky little town up north in the middle of nowhere.
“You know,” Doc said, breaking into her thoughts. “I’ve been thinking about Helen’s statement about Lily’s husband leaving her. At first I thought she was referring to Charles. But she may very well have been referring to Tom Hightower, Lily’s first husband.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Although they were married quite a while ago, Tom’s pretty much been written out of the family.”
“Why?”
“I don’t recall the particulars.”
“You honestly heard nothing about that?” Cammie persisted, unable to believe that Doc, who lived for gossip, couldn’t remember the details. Especially when it involved a woman he obviously detested.
Doc hesitated for a long moment before answering. “I was at my lowest point with my parents, and with my life in general. I’d just divorced wife number three which caused a great deal of friction between Father and myself, so I was a bit preoccupied to give much thought to Lily’s relationship or lack thereof with Tom.”
“Well, as you said last night, Lily has always been a bitch. Maybe Tom’s trips to Peru were a way to get away from her. Once they got divorced, could be he wanted to make sure to keep as much distance between them as he could by settling down there permanently.”
“It’s possible. Tom came from a family that wasn’t as wealthy as ours, but still very well off. I do remember Freddy preferring she marry someone of our social set, but she was determined to have Tom. It was a grand wedding, celebrated in one of the showier mansions in Newport. If memory serves, they were happy for about six months. Then the cracks began to show.”
“What cracks were those?” Cammie asked.
“To be blunt, Tom was too nice for Lily. He allowed her to push him around shamelessly. He seemed unable to stand up for himself. She could be quite cruel with her putdowns, especially in front of other people. I think Lily grew tired of living with a man she considered weak. But as for what happened specifically between them, as I said to you earlier, I was busy with my own drama to pay attention to her drama, especially since Lily always seemed to thrive on drama. All I know is that she and Tom married in 2008 and were divorced by 2011. Right after that, she met Charles. They dated for about six months before running off to Hawaii to get married.”
“So Charles was more of a man than Tom was?”
“He stood up for himself. And whenever Lily went off on one of her emotional tantrums, he would simply leave the room until she calmed down.”
At that moment, his cell phone rang. He looked at the display and groaned.
“Who is it?” Cammie asked.
“My mother. I’m sure she’s calling to ask about dinner tonight.”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing if any other interesting snippets come to light.”
He shot her a look. “I’m sure you wouldn’t,” he responded drily. “However, I need to work up to dinner with the folks. Lily was enough for one day. I’ll phone Mother later.” He muted the ringer and shoved the phone in his pocket. “Now, back to our discussion. If I had to venture a guess, I’d say that once Tom moved to Peru, it was a case of out of sight, out of mind. No sense trying to keep in touch with someone they were never pleased to welcome into the family in the first place, especially when that person opted to move to a third world country. But I have to admit, you’ve piqued my curiosity. After we finish our lunch, I’ll call Bitsy.”
The waiter arrived with the food. As they were being served, Cammie felt that familiar twinge of gut instinct, the same twinge that told her there was more to Helen moving up to Maine than to simply experience a different lifestyle. Once again, she knew Doc wasn’t being entirely forthcoming with her. A surge of frustration flared up that she found difficult to quell. She’d spoken to Jace last night just before falling asleep, and as she’d hung up the phone, an ache arose that almost suffocated her. She missed him so much, it hurt. And here was Doc, playing some sort of weird head game with her. Yet, even as she thought this, she knew she was being too hard on him. It was plainly evident how much he cared about Helen. And dealing with his relatives ranked up there with dealing with the different circles of Hell in Dante’s Inferno. Reluctantly, she came to the conclusion that, despite her addiction to gathering information, she really was here solely as moral support for him. She’d have to suck it up for a few more days before they could thankfully return home and resume their lives.
As they placed the plate of scallops and lobster tails in front of her, at least she could take comfort that she was being incredibly well fed.
Maybe hanging out with Doc wasn’t so bad after all.
After finishing their lunch, Doc called Bitsy, who eagerly invited them back to her apartment. Traffic was surprisingly light, preventing Doc from performing acrobatics with his Navigator, much to Cammie’s relief. Soon they were back in her sun filled living room.
“Thank you for seeing us,” Doc said as they settled onto her couch.
“I never get tired of seeing you, my boy,” she smiled. Once again she was perfectly made up, with her hair just so, wearing a lovely maroon dress enhanced by a diamond broach.
“Mrs. Monroe-” Cammie began.
“Oh please, you must call me Bitsy. Everyone does, you know.”
“Cammie was curious about Tom Hightower,” Doc explained.
“Oh, he was such a dear boy. Elegant. Sophisticated. Much like Lily’s husband Charles was, only younger.”
“What did Helen think of him?”
“She thought the world of him and believed he was too good for Lily. You see, Lily had and, I’m sure still has, a volatile temper. Oh you don’t see it very often, but it’s there. Helen used to tell me how she would throw vases and all sorts of objects across the room, never caring about the damage or cost. She inherited that unfortunate trait from both Helen’s grandfather and father. Oh my, Helen’s father was fierce. Used to scare me to pieces when I was younger!”
“Yes,” Doc agreed. “He was rather forbidding.”
“Eliot is very much like him,” Bitsy replied, before turning back to Cammie. “Tom tried to please Lily, but it seems it was never enough. Oh my, it used to be excruciating to watch her rip him apart verbally at our summer picnics. I could never understand why she insisted on doing that in front of everyone, nor why he never defended himself.”
“I only recall a few instances in which that happened,” Doc murmured.
“Oh, it became a given that each time there was a get together, she would destroy him. Of course, during those years, you were dealing with your own troubles with Eleanor. I hope you don’t mind me saying so, Samuel, but I never thought she was the right woman for you.”
If you only knew, Cammie thought to herself.
“He was so besotted with Lily, he let her walk all over him. I know he was absolutely devastated when she told him she wanted a divorce.”
“Do you know why?”
“One never really knows what goes on behind closed doors, but I suspect she was jealous of his charity. You see, during his college days, Tom paid a visit to Peru and was very much taken by its people and their culture. He saw the poverty and wanted so much to help. He was such a sensitive boy. He simply hated seeing anyo
ne or anything suffering. He started a charity down in the Amazon rain forest that provided education to the economically disadvantaged. It meant everything to him. Of course being the conscientious person that he was, he took periodic trips down there to oversee the day to day management. Lily refused to accompany him and began to see his trips as time taken away from her. I believe she offered him an ultimatum – the charity or her.” Bitsy shook her head. “It was devastating to poor Tom. How could he possibly choose between the two things he loved most?”
“He obviously did make a decision,” Doc replied.
“Actually, Lily made it for him. She presented him with the divorce papers one day and that was that. Helen told me he was so distraught over the breakup of his marriage that he moved permanently down to Peru. He couldn’t bear the thought of running into Lily, or worse, seeing her with another man. It was easier to remove himself from the scene.” She uttered a long sigh. “It was so heartbreaking when he passed away. But at least he died doing something he loved.”
“Bitsy, do you know what Lily’s reaction was to the news of Tom’s disappearance?” Cammie asked.
“I’m afraid I don’t. I’d like to think she may have been a little upset over the death of a man she’d once loved. But the reality may have been that she’d moved on to Charles. Tom was a part of her past. And Lily is a woman who does not live in the past.”
“Do you think Helen liked Charles?”
“Oh I’m sure she did. He could be so charming and debonair.”
“Do you think Helen’s move to Allagash had anything to do with Lily’s marriage to Charles?” As Cammie asked this, she was surprised to see Doc scowl at her. She instantly realized this was what her instinct had been trying to tell her in Mantree’s office during his interrogation of Doc when he’d asked why Helen had moved to Maine. Yet why he would be upset over her finding this out left her perplexed. Was it just another instance of him not wanting to reveal any more of his family’s goings on? Or was there a darker reason?