Priscilla met me at the back door and helped me load everything into the back of the vehicle. “Are you going to keep this after you have the baby?” she asked, eyeing the hearse as I closed the tailgate. I could tell from her expression that she hoped my answer would be no, but I was about to disappoint her.
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I? It runs well, it has relatively low mileage, and there is plenty of room inside for both a kid and a dog. Plus I like the color.”
Priscilla looked a little horrified but said nothing more. After thanking me and telling me to come back anytime, she backed into her store—never taking her eyes off the car—and shut the door. A second later I heard her throw three different locks. By the time I got behind the wheel, I felt certain Miss Priss was on the phone already, spreading her news.
Chapter 15
As I was about to pull out, my cell phone rang. I saw it was Izzy and thought someone else must have died, meaning we had another call. I was half right.
“Hey, Izzy, what’s up?”
“I need to cancel our dinner plans for tonight. Dom’s father had a heart attack and died, so we’re heading for Iowa.”
“Oh, no,” I said, hoping I sounded genuinely saddened by the news, because my feelings on the topic were mixed. While I could never be happy about anyone dying, particularly the relative of a close friend, my relief at getting out of dinner and The Talk with Izzy was huge. “Is Dom okay?”
“I think so, but you know how things were with his dad. Their relationship was complicated.”
That was an understatement. The only person in Dom’s family who was at all understanding or supportive of his lifestyle was his mother. His father and brothers didn’t approve, and they made it known any time Dom and Izzy visited. The situation was made even more difficult because Dom’s father had been an alcoholic who often got mean when he drank.
“Give Dom a hug for me,” I said.
“I will. I’ve made arrangements for Gary Henderson to cover for me while I’m gone. He’s a part-time assistant medical examiner in Madison, and he’ll stay at the Sorenson Motel while he’s covering. I briefed him on my findings in Derrick Ames’s autopsy and the status of the investigation, so he should be up to speed. Will you call Bob Richmond and let him know what’s going on?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks. I’ll check in with you once we get to Iowa and let you know what our plans are. I’m not sure when the funeral will be, but I expect we’ll probably be there for the week.”
“Don’t worry about it. Take as long as you need. I’ll stay on top of things here and make sure Henderson stays informed with our progress in the investigation.”
“Thanks, Mattie. And with regard to the other thing, we’ll talk when I get back. In the meantime, good luck with Hurley.”
“Thanks.”
I disconnected the call and then placed one to Richmond. “Hey, Mattie, what’s up?”
I filled him in on Izzy’s news.
“That’s a bummer about Dom’s dad.”
“Yeah, it is. Do you know anything about this Dr. Henderson guy?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. I worked with him years ago when I was in Madison.”
“What’s he like?”
“He’s kind of big on adhering to the rules, and he can be a bit of a stickler for details, but otherwise he’s okay.”
“So is Izzy, so that shouldn’t be a problem for me. I’m used to it.” Despite my cavalier tone, I had concerns about working with someone new. It’s never easy adapting to someone else’s work style, and the only person I’ve worked this job with is Izzy. He and I fell into an easy rhythm early on, and we’ve grown comfortable with one another and with our work routines. And Izzy has been imminently patient with me as I’ve learned the ins and outs of my new career. Throwing someone new into the mix, someone who might be difficult to work with, was a complication I could have done without.
“I’m glad you called because I was going to call you in a little while anyway. I’ve got a schedule of sorts put together for tomorrow. Blake Sutherland called me back and agreed to come in and talk to me at nine. Wendy and her sons, along with their lawyer, will be coming in at ten. And at some point tomorrow I want to go to the school to talk with Derrick’s coworkers.”
“Is Blake Sutherland coming alone, or did she lawyer up?”
“As far as I know she’s coming alone because she thinks the only reason I need to talk to her is to verify information about Wendy. Plus I’m guessing she’s trying to keep her trip here as low profile as possible so her hubby doesn’t find out. I’m not sure she knows she’s on my suspect list, though to be honest, she isn’t very high on it.”
“Sounds like a busy day. Where and what time should we meet up?”
“Why don’t we meet at the police station around eight?”
“Can we do eight-thirty? Given that there will be someone new in our office, I feel like I should be there first thing to make sure the transition goes smoothly.”
“Eight-thirty is fine.”
“Great. I don’t think it will be a problem with Henderson if I work with you tomorrow, but if there is a death during the night, all bets are off.” I winced again at my metaphorical slip, even as I conjured up a mental image of gambling chips being scooped off a blackjack table. I could feel the rough texture of the felt-covered table, hear the sound of cards snapping down, smell the smoke-tinged, badly filtered air. I had a sudden overwhelming urge to head for the casino, and had I not been on call, I might have caved and gone.
“Let me know if something does come up.”
“Will do.”
Now that I was off the hook for The Talk later today, I decided to stop in and visit my sister, Desi, and deliver my news before she heard it from someone else. At some point I would have to either call or visit my mother for the same reason, but I wasn’t ready to face that yet.
I called Desi, and she answered on the first ring.
“Hey, sis, any chance you’ve got room for one more at your dinner table tonight?”
“For you, always,” she told me. “How soon can you be here? I’ve got baked macaroni and cheese and a meat loaf ready to come out of the oven in about fifteen minutes.”
I made it there in five.
Even though I hadn’t been to my sister’s house or seen any of the family for a little over a month, when I arrived I went in without knocking. Desi’s kids, Erika and Ethan, were in the living room watching the last few minutes of the movie Independence Day on TV with their father, Lucien. All three acknowledged my arrival, Erika and Ethan with, “Hi, Aunt Mattie,” and Lucien with his standard, “Hey, Mattiekins.”
I responded with a generic, “Hi, guys,” and then followed the enticing aromas to the kitchen.
“Hey, you,” Desi said with a smile. She set the microwave to nuke two bags of corn and then came over and gave me a big hug. When she released me, she stood back, cocked her head to one side, and stared at my chest. “Your boobs are bigger,” she said, finally looking at my face.
I smiled. “Yes, they are.”
Desi clapped a hand over her mouth, and her eyes grew huge. After a few seconds she said, “Oh my God. Are you pregnant?”
“Wow, you sure know how to steal someone’s thunder.” I watched the emotions play over Desi’s face: excitement, curiosity, worry. Her hand dropped away from her mouth, and she stammered for a few seconds. Then she lunged at me and hugged me again. When she stepped back she finally managed to get one word out.
“Hurley?”
I nodded. “He doesn’t know yet. I’ve been talking to him on the phone regularly since he left town, but I want to give him the news in person, so I can see how he reacts. He’s supposed to be back tomorrow, and I’m going to tell him then.”
“Are you worried?”
“A little,” I admitted. “This business with Emily and Kate really shook him up. He must have said a dozen times how he never wanted to be a father, and how if he’d wanted kids
he would have had them, yadda yadda yadda.”
“But that was different,” Desi said. “Finding out so many years after the fact that you have a kid has to be a bit unsettling.”
“True, but I don’t think doubling his trouble is going to help any.”
“I’m betting he’ll be delighted. In fact, I can already hear the wedding bells,” Desi said, ignoring my doubts.
“Oh, no, I’m not going to marry him.”
“What?” Desi reared back as if she’d been slapped. “Why not?”
“I couldn’t in good conscience. I’d always feel like I trapped him into it, and I’d spend my life wondering if he would have wanted to marry me anyway if not for the kid.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Desi said, turning away in response to the timer on the oven going off. “Even with the little time I’ve spent with Hurley, it’s obvious the guy is nuts about you. Heck, when Emily went to the waterpark with us, she even said so.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“But he told me he felt blindsided when he found out about Emily.”
“Different circumstances,” Desi said, donning hot mitts and opening the oven door. “Besides, Kate did you a favor by prepping him ahead of time for the whole fatherhood thing. I’m telling you, he’ll be fine with it.” She took the bubbling-hot dish of macaroni and cheese out of the oven and placed it on top of the stove. Then she went back for the meat loaf. “Have you told Mom yet?”
“No, and I’m not looking forward to the task. I still remember the histrionics she went through when you told her you were pregnant with Erika.” I clapped a hand over my heart and mimicked my mother. “Oh, no,” I said in classic, melodramatic Sarah Bernhardt style. “Surely my end is in sight. Being a grandmother is like having one foot in the grave. I can feel my arteries hardening and my bones creaking as we stand here.”
Desi and I both laughed, and then she added, “Then there was that whole ‘I hope you don’t expect me to babysit’ speech, followed by the list of childhood illnesses she might be exposed to.” Desi closed the oven door with her foot and carried the meat loaf into the dining room. Then she came back and grabbed the macaroni and cheese. “It’s a wonder you and I are normal at all,” she said, setting the casserole dish on the dining room table.
The microwave dinged, so I made myself useful by taking the packages of corn out, dumping them in a bowl, and tossing a large pat of butter on top of it all. “I don’t know,” I said. “I think calling myself normal might be a stretch at times.”
“There are days when I feel that way, too,” Desi said with a smile. Then the smile faltered. “I mean I feel that way about me, not you,” she clarified.
“I knew what you meant.”
“Can we share your news with Lucien and the kids?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Might as well. I don’t want it to get out before I have a chance to tell Hurley, but unfortunately I went shopping at The Mother Hood today, and I’m betting Miss Priss will be spreading the word in no time. I just have to hope Hurley hears it from me first rather than someone else.”
Desi grabbed me and gave me a big hug. “I’m so excited for you, Mattie!”
Her enthusiasm was contagious, and by the time we headed in to the dining room to call everyone to dinner, I had a huge grin on my face that I couldn’t seem to contain. Even if we hadn’t agreed to share my news, Lucien and the kids would have known something was up just from my demeanor.
I had thought we might wait until the end of the meal to make the announcement, but Desi was busting at the seams and couldn’t wait. The news was met with general delight by all, especially Erika, who was eager to know if I’d let her babysit. Throughout the meal our conversation revolved around the baby: did I know the gender yet, was I going to find out, had I thought about names? Oddly, no one asked who the father was, and the subject of marriage didn’t come up. I wasn’t sure if that was because the answers were assumed, or because everyone felt awkward about asking. A few months ago, I would have assumed the former because there were no limits on the topics Lucien might bring up or ask about. Back then he never seemed to have any regard for politeness, political correctness, or even simple respect for someone else’s feelings. He couldn’t speak to me without coming out with a crass comment or some dicey bit of sexual innuendo. Nowadays, his behavior bordered on normal. Even his appearance had improved. Whereas he used to dress in wrinkled, worn, and stained clothing, and typically slicked his hair back with enough grease to lube the hearse several times over, he was now dressed in a clean shirt and khakis, and his hair looked clean and grease-free.
This new Lucien both heartened and saddened me. He was a changed man, a black-and-white version of his once much more colorful self. I knew these changes were for Desi’s benefit, and so far it seemed to be working. Yet as much as I hated to admit it, I kind of missed that old Lucien. There had been something oddly endearing about him, crass and crude as he was. And that old personality was a big part of his success as a lawyer. I wondered if the new Lucien would still be as clever, crafty, and persistent.
Though the subject of fatherhood didn’t come up, things still got plenty awkward. Ethan, looking all innocent and curious, stayed quiet through much of the discussion. Then, when there was a brief lull in the conversations, he said, “So you have a baby in your tummy?”
“Yes, I do,” I said smiling.
“How did it get in there?”
“Um . . .” I looked to Desi for help while Erika sniggered.
Then Lucien said, “I’ll explain it to you after supper.”
At that, Desi and I stared at one another with matching expressions of horror. Lucien had done the facts of life talk with Erika, and while none of us witnessed the actual talk, we know he used a store-bought turkey to help demonstrate. Come prep time for Thanksgiving dinner, Erika wanted to know how we got the little package inside the turkey to come out when the long, squirty thing hadn’t even been used yet.
Desi saved Ethan from a similar fate when she said, “That’s okay, Lucien. I got this one.”
I ate until I felt I was about to burst. Sated and happy, I wanted to stay and hang out for a while, but I knew Hoover needed to be let out soon. As I prepared to leave, Lucien took me aside.
“I am very excited for you, Mattiekins,” he said. “You deserve some happiness.”
“Thanks, Lucien.”
“Don’t let this Hurley guy get away. He seems like a good one. I never did like David.”
Now he tells me. “Thanks, Lucien. And if there’s anything I can do for you, just let me know.”
He grabbed my hand and stuffed something into it. When I looked, I saw it was a check for two thousand dollars. “I know it’s not much,” Lucien said. “But I intend to pay back every cent you gave me. You don’t know how much it meant to both me and Desi that you were willing to help us out.”
“Lucien, you don’t need to pay me back.”
“Yes, I do. And don’t you dare destroy that check. It’s part of my new resolution to pay all my debts. I’ve picked up some work, and things are slowly turning around for me. So please, take it.”
I could tell from his anxious, earnest expression that accepting his payback was important to him. “Okay. And thank you, Lucien.”
“No, thank you.” Then he did the most unexpected thing. He gave me a kiss on the cheek, a perfectly nice, nonsexual, brotherly type of kiss.
I left the house and sat behind the wheel of my car for a minute or two, trying to decide if I should deliver the news to my mother in person or over the phone. I didn’t relish the task either way because I knew she wasn’t going to be happy. It was bad enough that I’d divorced a doctor, which to her was proof of my stupidity and insanity. Never mind that fact that he cheated on me. Now I had made things worse by getting knocked up by a man who made less than a hundred grand a year, and who held a job that my mother perceived as having little to no prestige or social value. Ironically, despite h
er four failed marriages, my mother considers herself something of a relationship guru, spouting out her Rules for Wives, a list of behaviors and acts that she swears are the secrets to achieving a happy marriage. However, my mother’s definition of a happy marriage is the polar opposite of mine. For her it’s all about financial stability, social standing, and cleanliness. For me it’s all about love, trust, fidelity, and friendship, which is why I had decided not to marry Hurley even if he asked. I felt I’d already betrayed his trust and friendship by getting pregnant in the first place, even though I hadn’t planned to do so.
I finally opted for the chicken way out and decided it would be easier to hang up on my mother if she went berserk and launched a tirade than it would be to walk out on her. I’d call her when I got home.
My decision stayed firm long enough for me to start the car and pull into the street. Then I started thinking it might be easier to call Mom in the morning. One turn later I was seriously considering letting Desi or the town gossips inform her, thereby giving Mom time to cool down and accept things before I talked to her. But I knew it would be too cruel to let her find out the news from someone else that way, so by the time I turned into my driveway, I was back to my decision to get it over with and call her as soon as I was in the house.
I pulled up and parked in my usual spot beside the cottage, glanced at the darkened windows on Izzy’s house, and thought about Dom, his father, and their difficult relationship, and me, my mother, and our difficult relationship. Family sure had a way of complicating life.
I took the keys from the ignition, got out of the car, and went around to open the back so I could unload my purchases from The Mother Hood. As I tried to juggle my purse and the hatch latch, I dropped my keys on the ground. Cursing, I bent down to get them.
That’s when one of the car windows exploded.
Chapter 16
It took me a second to realize what was happening, but I recognized the sound that came with the breaking glass. Someone was shooting at me! The bullet had shattered the rear driver-side window and the ceiling light. I scrambled around on the ground, moving to the other side of the car, away from the woods and the direction the shot seemed to have come from. Then I reached into my purse and pulled out my cell phone.
Stiff Penalty (A Mattie Winston Mystery) Page 12