“I think she led a charmed life for so long she’s having trouble accepting that she can’t have everything her way. Besides, this murder business is taking its toll.”
“On all of us,” Laurel said. “Still, we should make more of an effort to be Crystal’s friends and drag her out of that house. I know she feels abandoned by everyone.”
“I told you I intend to make some changes in my life,” Denise commented. “I have more free time than you do. I’ll make Crystal my first project.”
Laurel joined Kurt at the buffet table. Cyrstal lingered, but she’d quieted although she still looked anxious. Laurel wondered if she ever relaxed these days.
The doorbell rang a couple more times and two other couples arrived. The third ring was answered by Denise. Laurel had her back to the door but Audra, standing beside her, widened her eyes and muttered, “Wow!”
Laurel turned. Monica strode into the room. She wore an emerald green Far Eastern–style gown with cap sleeves, a mandarin collar, heavy gold embroidery, and slits three-fourths of the way up her thighs. The dress was so tight it left no curve of her well-toned five-foot-ten-inch frame unrevealed. Her eye makeup was heavy, exotic, yet perfect for her. Her hair lay in gleaming strands almost to her waist and her perfect teeth shone between crimson lips. She looked like an exotic bird amid a flock of brown wrens.
“Hi, folks,” Monica said gaily. “Sorry to be late.”
Everyone stood speechless for a few moments. Laurel had a brief mental flash of Scarlett O’Hara arriving in her skin-tight, sexy red sequined and feathered gown at sweet Melanie’s sedate party. Denise was the first to react, coming forward with a forced smile. “Hello, Monica. We’d nearly given up on you.”
“Oh, you know I never miss a party.” No, Laurel thought, Denise and I didn’t know that and no one else here has ever even met you except for Kurt. “Thanks so much for inviting me.”
Denise began making rounds, introducing Monica to everyone. “Is she a movie star?” Audra asked Laurel in awe.
“No, honey, she’s a lawyer in New York.”
“Do they all dress that way?”
“Not when they go to the office.”
“I think she looks cool. I wonder if Mommy would let me have a dress like that.”
“I doubt it,” Laurel said. “Besides, you’re much prettier the way you are.”
Kurt sidled up to Laurel. “Does Monica look as out of place as I think she does?”
“She’s probably forgotten she’s in Wheeling, West Virginia, not Manhattan. But she does look beautiful.”
“And knows it. Look at her, taking control of the whole room.”
Laurel nudged him playfully in the ribs. “I think she intimidates you. Always did.”
“She doesn’t intimidate me. I just don’t like her.”
After about twenty minutes, Monica unobtrusively cornered Laurel. “Denise tells me Zeke’s free as a bird.”
“Unfortunately. I wish the law weren’t so difficult.”
“If it weren’t, I wouldn’t make the salary I do.”
“And you would love your work so much. I really don’t see you doing my job.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Arranging flowers must be relaxing.”
Laurel started to snap back that there was a lot more to running Damron Floral than daintily arranging flowers all day, but Monica was scanning the room, paying no attention to her. She probably hadn’t even realized how belittling her comment was. Sensitivity had never been one of Monica’s strong points.
“Mary is fine, not that you asked,” Laurel said tartly. “She was released from the hospital today.”
Monica’s attention whipped back to her. “With Zeke free, we have two of our possible killers on the loose,” she whispered. “Damn.”
Crystal joined them. Although she had a drink of what appeared to be straight bourbon in her hands, she didn’t look any calmer. She immediately hissed, “Someone’s been in my house. I went to the grocery store this afternoon and when I got back, I found some things missing.”
Monica’s gaze shot to her. “What things?”
“A porcelain figurine. My yearbook.”
Laurel’s breath left her. “Your yearbook?”
“Yes. The one with the memorial page dedicated to Faith.”
“Did you leave your door unlocked?” Monica asked.
“Of course not! With all this going on? Do you think I’m crazy?”
“And there was no sign of breaking and entering.”
“No.”
Laurel frowned. “What was the figurine like?”
“It was a gift from my grandmother—lady carrying an umbrella and wearing a long, frilly gown. It was beautiful and valuable and Faith always loved it.”
“Oh, God,” Laurel moaned. “Now I vaguely remember it. It came from France. Didn’t you have a name for it?”
“Bettina.” Crystal took another sip of her drink. “Monica, have you found out anything yet?”
“No, although I’m seriously considering that Zeke Howard might be our culprit.”
“Zeke!” Crystal squawked before Monica and Laurel shushed her. “How could Zeke kill someone who lived in New York?”
Monica sighed. “Crystal, you persist in thinking New York is halfway around the world. Manhattan is just a little over four hundred miles from Wheeling. You can drive it in six hours.”
“But Zeke’s an old man.”
“He’s barely seventy and he’s not an invalid.”
Laurel nodded. “He can also drive and he’s crazy. Didn’t anyone tell you what happened at my store yesterday?”
“Yes, Denise did.”
The doorbell rang again. In a moment, Neil Kamrath walked hesitantly into the room. Laurel glanced at Kurt. His face grew still and white. Even Crystal drew back slightly, as if in distaste. Only Wayne and Monica seemed genuinely pleased to see him. Wayne clasped his hand in a hearty shake and Monica mumbled, “My goodness, you were right, Laurel. He has improved with age,” before she put on her dazzling smile and walked with a seductive sway toward Neil.
Crystal shook her head. “Monica and Faith. They never met a good-looking guy they didn’t like.”
Introductions were being made. Laurel could tell Neil’s smile was forced and it completely disappeared when he met Kurt’s hard stare. Laurel’s temper rose. Kurt knew nothing about her suspicion that Neil might have killed Angie. Maybe, like many people in this town, he blamed Neil for Faith’s death. But even though he thought she committed suicide, certainly Kurt realized one person isn’t responsible for another taking their own life. If he didn’t, his immature thinking was not only disappointing, it was downright annoying. Kurt was not a stupid man, but he was acting like it.
Fearing his chilly welcome might send Neil out the door in ten minutes, Laurel went up to him. “Hi, Neil. I’m glad you decided to come.”
He smiled warmly. “I wouldn’t have without your encouragement.”
“I’m glad I had so much influence.”
“Well, it doesn’t seem appropriate for me to be here when my father’s dying.”
“Wayne said he’s in a coma,” Laurel reminded him gently. “He wouldn’t be aware of you even if you were sitting by his bed. Besides, your life has to go on, Neil.”
He looked at her gravely. “That’s what everyone kept saying after Ellen and Robbie died. I didn’t necessarily believe it then, and I’m even less sure now.”
“Neil—”
“Never mind.” He smiled. “Talk about a party pooper. I’ll try to work up a little Christmas cheer, although it’s hard with your boyfriend glaring at me.”
“Kurt’s a good man, but he can be stubborn and irrational. Just ignore him.”
Laurel glanced up to see Denise urging Audra toward the piano. I promised Audra I’d help, Laurel thought. “Excuse me, Neil,” she muttered.
“Now, honey, everyone would enjoy hearing you play ‘Jingle Bells.’”
“But Mommy, I don’t want
to.”
“I think she looks a little tired.” Denise glanced at Laurel in surprise. “And flushed.” Laurel put her hand on Audra’s cool forehead. “You do feel a bit warm.”
Denise’s look of surprise turned to one of anxiety. Oh, this isn’t fair, Laurel thought guiltily, but Audra’s big brown eyes were filled with gratitude.
“Warm!” Denise repeated, putting her own hand on Audra’s forehead. “I think you’re right. Wayne!”
Audra rolled her eyes at Laurel. In a moment Wayne stood beside them. “What’s the problem?”
“Laurel thinks Audra might have a fever. You check and I’ll get the thermometer.”
Denise disappeared. Wayne touched Audra’s forehead, then grinned. “Talked Laurel into saving you from playing, didn’t you?”
Audra nodded. “I’m sorry,” Laurel said. “I was only trying to help.”
“Quite all right,” Wayne told her. “I keep telling Denise that forcing children to play when they don’t want to makes them hate the piano even more.” Denise reappeared with the thermometer. “Sweetie, I think she’s okay,” Wayne told her, “but it’s past her bedtime and she didn’t feel well a couple of days ago.” He kissed Audra’s cheek. “Off to bed with you.”
Audra looked disappointed, but it was a trade-off. Bed or concert. Laurel thought she’d prefer bed.
Fifteen minutes later Denise returned from upstairs. The noise level had increased as several guests made frequent trips to the bartender. Laurel saw that Neil looked as if he were ready to depart when Monica descended on him, all flashing eyes and long, exposed legs. Laurel wasn’t sure if Monica’s intent was to glean information or flirt.
A woman whose name Laurel didn’t remember cornered her to harangue about how overpriced she thought the Flower Basket was and hint that she might consider throwing a little business toward Damron Floral. Laurel knew this business would probably amount to two or three orders a year, for which she was supposed to simper with happiness. The woman seemed insulted by her tepid reaction and moved away.
Laurel glanced at Kurt talking animatedly with a striking young blonde. Crystal sat by herself eating chocolate walnut bread and looking desolate. Denise was in earnest conversation with a dark-haired woman who appeared about eight months pregnant. Just like Claudia, Laurel thought. My sister is supposed to give birth in a few weeks and I’m not excited. I don’t even want to go see her at Christmas. What’s wrong with me?
The room suddenly seemed smoky, close, and loud. She’d suggest going home, but she had the odd feeling that if she left, so would Neil, and Monica might not have the chance to get valuable information from him. Besides, Kurt looked like he was having a marvelous time with the blonde. She supposed she should be jealous, but she wasn’t.
Abruptly she found herself reaching for Wayne’s arm as he walked by. “I know Audra didn’t want to play, but how about you? I’d love to hear a few songs.”
Wayne looked pleased. “Is this a genuine request, or are you just being polite?”
“I’m just being polite,” Laurel said lightly.
“Oh, well, I don’t care. You made the mistake of asking.”
He walked to the piano and Laurel clapped her hands for attention. “Tonight the gifted hands of our favorite surgeon will turn to his second greatest talent as a pianist.” A lot of people laughed, clapped, and walked toward the grand piano.
“My repertoire is limited, so I don’t take requests,” Wayne said solemnly. “I only play what I know. I’ll start out with something nice and easy. ‘Even Now’ by Barry Manilow.”
Laurel had only heard him play once and had forgotten how good he was. Even his voice was good—not polished and professional, but good. Denise stood behind him, casually sipping eggnog, but her eyes gleamed. How lucky she’d been to find him, Laurel thought. Denise, Wayne, and Audra made as perfect a family as one could imagine.
When he finished, someone yelled, “Bravo! More!”
Wayne ducked his head. “If you insist.” He started “Every Little Kiss” by Bruce Hornsby. Someone began clapping along, and in time the living room was filled with the sound of the piano, Wayne’s voice, and nearly everyone clapping.
By the end of the song, most of the guests were in high gear. A few freshened drinks, some moved away from the piano while others drew nearer. Laurel didn’t even see Kurt. By now the living room was crowded by people ready to cut loose and really have fun.
Laurel raised her voice over the din. “I know you don’t like requests, but I’m going to make one anyway. How about ‘Great Balls of Fire’?”
Denise threw her a playful glare. “Audra put you up to that, didn’t she?”
“She just said it was one of Wayne’s favorites, and I’m dying to see if he can do the mule kick with the bench.”
“Denise won’t let me,” Wayne laughed. “But I’ll do the rest with every bit of Jerry Lee’s spirit I can manage.”
In a moment mild-mannered, plump, balding Dr. Wayne Price turned into a rock star with a vengeance. A few people were so carried away they began dancing. Laurel couldn’t take her eyes off Wayne’s flying fingers. Jerry Lee, you don’t know it but you’ve got some real competition in Wheeling, she thought in delight, feeling young and happy for the first time in weeks. From nowhere an unfamiliar man grabbed her and began whirling her around the living room.
Wayne was winding the song to a dramatic close when suddenly a woman screamed. Apparently some of the guests either didn’t hear her or thought she’d just gotten carried away because they kept dancing and clapping. Wayne, however, lifted his hands from the piano keys and jumped up so forcefully the bench went flying backward. His eyes were fastened on the curving staircase.
Laurel pushed her partner away and swung around. On the staircase stood Audra in pink pajamas. She gripped a slender plastic fashion doll and below her huge, terrified eyes a wide piece of silver duct tape covered her mouth.
By now most people realized something was wrong, becoming motionless and staring at the child. Wayne and Laurel bolted across the living room, reaching her at the same moment.
Gently Wayne pulled the powerful tape from his daughter’s chalky face. “My God, honey, what happened?” he whispered.
“A ghost came to my room,” Audra said in a flat voice. “A ghost in a long white gown with long curly red hair. The ghost put a hand over my mouth, then the tape. It said my mommy didn’t deserve to have me. Then it gave me this.”
She held out the doll to Laurel. It had long red hair and was naked except for a heart locket on a chain hung around its slender neck.
Denise rushed up, enfolding her rigid child in her arms. “Sweet Jesus,” she gasped. “What’s happened?”
Laurel took the locket from the doll’s neck and turned it over, although she really didn’t have to. She recognized it but read the engraving anyway. “F. S. H. Faith Sarah Howard.” She looked at Denise. “This is the last gift Faith’s mother gave her before she vanished.”
Nine
1
Laurel wasn’t aware of Kurt crowding in beside them until she heard his voice. “Audra, where did the person go?”
“It wasn’t a person. It was a ghost. It said so.”
“In a man or a woman’s voice?”
Audra looked uncertain. It was her first expression except for stark fear. “I don’t know. It sort of whispered.”
“Where did it go?” Kurt persisted.
“Out of my room. Down the hall.”
“The back stairs!” Laurel said.
While Denise and Wayne cuddled their terrified daughter, Laurel led Kurt to the kitchen. It was empty. The back stairs were against the west wall, the bottom step about ten feet from the back door, which stood open nearly an inch. Kurt grabbed a towel off the counter, grasped the doorknob with it, and pulled the door open. The small back porch was dry under its roof. The remaining snow on the back lawn bore a multitude of footprints.
“What do you think?” Laurel asked.
“I think our ‘ghost’ is long gone.”
“But who—”
“Mary or Zeke. Who else would have Faith’s locket?” A muscle flexed in Kurt’s jaw. “I’m going to call the city police and tell them to get over here while I go out to see the Howards.”
“Shouldn’t you wait here for the police?”
“If I wait, Zeke or Mary could destroy evidence. Besides, we dealt with Zeke before.”
“And got nowhere.”
“We did the best we could,” Kurt said harshly. “And I’m damn well going to find out if either one of them have come here and terrified this child.”
When they returned to the living room, half the guests were gone. Wayne was saying good night. Laurel didn’t see Denise or Audra and guessed she’d taken the little girl back to her room. Crystal and Monica lingered near the piano. “Will you two meet me at my house so we can talk?” Laurel asked.
Crystal looked fearful. Monica’s eyes hardened. “You’re going to badger us about going to the police, aren’t you?”
“I’m not going to badger you. I’m going to appeal to your good sense. Monica, you’re a lawyer. What would you advise a client in these circumstances?”
“To keep his mouth shut.” Monica set down her drink. “I’m leaving now. Crystal, unless you want to get yourself in a hell of a lot of trouble and make sure you lose Chuck for good, I suggest you do the same.”
Laurel touched Crystal’s icy hand. “Crystal, please…”
“I…I can’t.” Crystal’s gaze dropped. “I’m sorry. I know you’re disappointed in me, but Chuck—”
“Chuck is gone,” Laurel said roughly. “Keeping quiet about Faith’s death won’t bring him back to you but it might get you killed.”
“I won’t talk to the police. I can’t!”
Crystal rushed toward the front door, tears running down her cheeks.
2
Laurel knew talking to Denise was hopeless. Even if she agreed it was time to go to the police, she was too upset over Audra to do anything tonight. Besides, Laurel had already made up her mind.
Kurt dropped her off at home before heading for the Howard house. As she fitted her key in the lock, she looked at him. “Will you stop by after you’ve seen Mary and Zeke?”
In the Event of My Death Page 13