I spun around. He was gawking at me.
“Speak, Mimi,” he ordered.
I reached for the heart and lifted it off the wall. “Angelica, this is very pretty.”
“My mother made it. She made two, but I don’t know where the other one went.”
“I think she might have given it to—”
The door burst open, and Edison stormed inside. “Give me that!”
Chapter 25
Edison charged me, hand extended. Instinctively, I recoiled. He took hold of the fused glass heart and wrested it away, but he lost his grip. It flew out of his hand and hit the wall with a crack. The glass was so dense that the heart only broke into two pieces.
As I bent to gather them, I noticed initials etched on the flipside: AB for Adele Barrington, Angelica’s mother.
“Dad!” Angelica charged her father. “What is wrong with you?”
“He was a playboy.” Spittle flew out of Edison’s mouth. “He didn’t deserve your love.”
Angelica threw a sharp look at her husband.
Lyle shook his head. “Liquey, I would never cheat on you. I promise.”
“I tried to warn you,” Edison went on. “He didn’t love you.”
Didn’t, I thought. Past tense. Maybe he wasn’t talking about Lyle. Maybe he had some previous boyfriend or fiancé in mind.
“I told him to take a hike,” Edison continued.
Lyle splayed his hands. “Sir, you never said—”
“I told your mother he would never settle down.”
Lyle gawked at Angelica. “I never met your mom.”
“Dad, stop it!” Angelica cried. She ran to her father and gripped his hands. “I feel like we’re on a merry-go-round spinning out of control. Can you please slow down and tell me what is going on?”
Edison’s eyes grew teary.
Suddenly I felt like I was caught in the movie Charade, where Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn are standing near the carousel in a park, and they figure out where the treasure is hidden. But my realization wasn’t about a missing treasure. It was about carousels and hearts. I took in the artwork on the walls. I examined the broken heart in my hand. Looking closely, I spotted an infinity sign etched between the letters A and B—infinity, meaning forever—which confirmed my suspicion. The A and B on the back didn’t stand for Adele Barrington; the letters stood for Adele and Bryan. On further inspection, I spied the tiniest etched words at the bottom of the piece, and my heart skipped a beat: Love fully before love leaves. I recalled the story Willow had told me about an art student confiding to a teacher about a man—a rover—who had left her. Was the student Angelica’s mother and Bryan, Adele’s lover?
I glanced at Angelica and at the necklace she was wearing—the necklace her mother had told her that her father had entrusted to her—and a new thought occurred to me. What if Edison wasn’t her father?
I glanced at Edison. What had he said to me earlier on the street when I’d asked about the stolen egg? Angelica is innocent, do you hear me? She is like her mother, beyond reproach. Had he been trying to convince himself that Adele was pure?
“Edison,” I said carefully, “when did you guess that Bryan was Angelica’s father?”
“What?” Angelica turned to her father for the answer.
Edison glowered at me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sir, you’re not accusing Lyle of being a playboy,” I went on. “You’re accusing your brother of being one, aren’t you? He told me once that he met the love of his life on a carousel. He met Adele, didn’t he? In Paris. But Bryan was like his father. He couldn’t settle down. He—” It suddenly occurred to me what had been missing on my dry-erase board. I had drawn lines connecting Paula and her father, but I hadn’t done the same for Angelica and Edison. Had I subconsciously wondered about Angelica’s paternity because Bryan had left her his estate?
The photographer’s proofs, I thought. I peeked at Lyle, who was no longer smoldering over his bridge loan issue. He seemed truly concerned for his new wife. “Lyle, do you still have the wedding proofs with you?”
“They’re in my car. Why?”
I peered at Angelica. She was quivering. “Angelica, do you remember all of us commenting on how much you, your father, and your uncle looked alike? You said you were like your dad, through and through. But you aren’t. Not entirely. Yes, your eyes are the same, but your hairline is exactly like Bryan’s. And you have a dimple in your chin, like he did.”
“You’re right,” Lyle said. “I’ll get them.”
“No, you won’t.” Edison grabbed Lyle by the arm and hurled him across the room with a force I didn’t know he possessed.
Lyle slammed into the eight-drawer cabinet and crashed to the ground.
Angelica raced to him and cradled his head. “Dad, what is going on with you?”
“Lots of families look the same,” he said.
“True,” I said, “but you and Bryan had different fathers, so you didn’t have the exact same gene pool. Angelica looks a lot like you, but she looks more like Bryan.”
Angelica blinked back tears. “Dad, is it true? Was Bryan my father? Is that why you raged off in your Jaguar the other day? You said I was blind to the truth. You said I didn’t understand that a marriage was a partnership in all aspects of the word. Were you talking about Mom? That she wasn’t really your partner?”
Edison strode to the center of the area rug. He stared daggers at me.
“The fused glass heart that you demanded I hand over”—I pointed to the other piece on the floor—“Bryan has one exactly like it hanging in his office. When I visited him, I commented on it. He said a special lady had made it for him. She would always hold a place in his soul.” I turned to Angelica. “You said your mother made two. I believe she gave the other one to Bryan. And the necklace you’re wearing?” I continued. “Your father found it in your wallet that afternoon before the out-of-towners’ dinner. When he asked you about it, you said your mother said your father gave it to her.” I eyed Edison. “That’s when you realized that Angelica wasn’t your daughter because you didn’t give it to Adele, did you? Bryan did. Adele was the woman who had stolen Bryan’s heart so many years ago on that carousel. I’m guessing you had seen the necklace before, though.”
Edison moaned.
“Bryan must have shown it to you. Maybe when you were kids. What is it, a family heirloom? That’s why you arrived drunk to the out-of-towners’ dinner. Seeing it sent you over the edge, and then hearing Angelica say that her father had given it to her mother . . .”
Angelica whispered, “Dad?”
Edison lowered his gaze, dejected. “Bryan’s grandmother made him promise to give that necklace to the woman of his dreams, except he never met her—or so I thought. He dated a few women and said there was one who had stolen his heart on a carousel, but he never told me who.”
I said, “You never guessed it was Adele?”
“No. Not until—”
“The day of the out-of-towner’s dinner.”
“He never got engaged or married,” he snarled at me. “What tipped you off?”
“The painting of the carousel plus the missing Fabergé egg with the carousel inside. You stole it, didn’t you? Because it reminded you of their love.” I eyed Angelica. “You told me that Bryan said, ‘No matter what, follow your heart. I didn’t, and I’m sorry.’ He rued his mistake, Angelica. He must have loved your mother until the end. And he loved you. But he respected his brother enough to keep quiet about being your birth father.”
“He didn’t respect me,” Edison snapped.
“Dad!”
“You are my daughter, not his. I loved you.” He jammed his thumb into his chest. “I raised you. He didn’t have the right to walk you down the aisle and take you away from me.”
Angelica’s eyes grew misty. “He wasn’t going to walk me down the aisle.”
I said, “He wasn’t going to take her away, either.” I glanced at Angelica
out of the corner of my eye, unwilling to take my full focus off her father. “That night, Bryan admired your necklace and said your mother would be so proud of how you had turned out. He recognized the necklace, and yet he didn’t break his vow of silence, did he?”
“No.”
“He must have promised your mother to keep quiet until his last breath.” I regarded Edison. “Did you sense Bryan and Adele were attracted to each other?”
“Who didn’t fall in love with Bryan? Every woman he met tried to tie him down. But when he took off for a world tour and Adele married me, I set aside my worry.”
“Bryan regretted always being on the go,” I said. “He told me so.” I offered Angelica a reassuring glance. “But apparently he had the good sense not to tell you that he was your father. He didn’t want to hurt you or your mother or even his brother.”
Edison snorted. “Ha!”
“It didn’t help that he bailed you out so many times, did it, Edison? You gambled and lost, and he gave you money every time, didn’t he? That had to irk you. It must have made you feel like less of a man.”
Edison stood taller.
“It annoyed you that he was paying for the wedding, didn’t it? What was the last straw? When the photographer took a picture of the three of you instead of just the two of you?”
“The éclairs.” His bravado failed. His chest sank inward as if he were a blow-up doll losing its air. He gazed at his daughter. “When you and he gushed over the éclairs, I couldn’t breathe. I knew you were never going to be mine again. You would be his. You would grow to hate me. I’m a loner. I’m weak.”
“I love you just the way you are,” Angelica said while she continued to stroke Lyle’s head. He hadn’t budged. Was he okay? Did he have a concussion? Did we need to call 9-1-1?
“But that wasn’t good enough, Angelica, don’t you see?” I said as I inched toward my purse. I needed to get to my cell phone without upsetting Edison. “Your father wanted you to know the truth. He wanted you to hate Bryan as much as he hated him. He wanted you to despise him for abandoning you and for keeping you in the dark all these years. Edison, why couldn’t Bryan commit to Adele?”
“You pegged him. He was exactly like his father. Within weeks of him taking off on a world tour, Adele visited me. Steady Eddie, she called me. She flirted with me. She baked for me. She made me feel special. She even took an interest in the vineyard. What a joke. Obviously she was pregnant and didn’t want to raise a kid on her own. I thought you were mine, Angelica. All this time. What an idiot I was.” He spread his arms to encompass the studio. “Do you see this? A couple of years later, Bryan waltzed back into our lives, and he paid for this. Every penny. He said he recognized your mother’s talent, and she deserved to be spoiled. I said it was wasteful to build it. Bryan didn’t care. He gave her the money for her birthday; he never asked to be repaid. I should have guessed then, I suppose, but I was blind.”
“The night of the out-of-towners’ dinner,” I said gently, “you took my cell phone from the kitchen. Why?”
“I wanted to have it out with him, man to man. I didn’t think he would respond if I used my phone.”
“Why did you wait until morning to text him?”
“I hadn’t intended to. When the party broke, I was getting ready to call him, but then I heard Lyle and Angelica arguing, and knowing they were occupied, I thought I might help myself to the gems in his travel safe and dig myself out of a financial hole first.”
“How did you . . .” I flashed on the moment I’d met him at the out-of-towners’ dinner. The corner of a piece of paper had been jutting from Angelica’s new wallet. I’d seen her tuck the paper into place. “Angelica keeps the code to Lyle’s portable safe in her wallet. She has a terrible time remembering numbers. You saw it.”
“How did you know what the numbers and letters meant?” Angelica asked.
Edison snickered. “The moment I heard that your fiancé traveled with it, I thought, Aha! I’d seen a combination code—L-4, R-3-30, L-2-20, R-1-10.” He mimed the action. “Clear the tumblers by turning left four times, then right three times and land on thirty, then left, and so on. I have the same kind of four-three-two-one system on the vineyard safe.”
I inched closer to the workbench, one slow step at a time. “You slipped into the inn and picked the lock to Lyle’s room.”
“Didn’t need to. The door was ajar.” Edison peered at his son-in-law, who still hadn’t budged. “Gotta be more careful, son.” He chuckled in a slightly unstable way.
“You took a handful of gems,” I said.
“And stuffed them in my pocket.”
“You took a few aquamarine stones, too, even though they weren’t very valuable, so you could make a new keepsake for your daughter using her birthstone.”
Edison cocked his head. “You’re pretty intuitive.”
“What happened next?”
“As I exited, Lyle and Angelica were still arguing. I heard what Bryan had done—how he was trying to prove Lyle was wrong for her—and the anger I’d felt before turned into full-blown rage. I didn’t want my brother to play God anymore. He didn’t have the right.” He gazed at his daughter. “He wasn’t there for your ups and downs. He didn’t put Band-Aids on your scraped knees. He didn’t nurse you through your childhood illnesses. He wasn’t by your side when your mother died. He didn’t have the right!”
“That’s when you decided to punish him,” I said. “Forget having a chat. You wanted him dead, but you had the wherewithal to wait until morning, when there would be no witnesses. You contacted him—”
“And he came running.”
“You didn’t confront him. You attacked him with the chair. And you stuffed an éclair into his mouth. Where did you get it?”
“I grabbed one as I exited through the kitchen.”
“Of course. You stuffed it in his mouth because—”
“I wanted him to choke on all the things he had in common with my daughter.”
“And the single aquamarine?”
“I wanted to show him that he wasn’t—” He coughed. “That he never—” The coughing turned into deep sobs.
“You’ll be tried for murder, Edison.”
“No!” Angelica cut a look at me. “He’s sick, don’t you see? He’s mentally ill.”
“I’m not unhinged,” her father said, the coughing and sobs replaced with fury. “I am seeing clearly for the first time in my life. All those years, I convinced myself that your mother loved me. I told myself I was enough for her. But I wasn’t. She was wicked.” His voice rose to a crescendo. “Wicked!”
“No!” Angelica cried.
“She was wicked, and so are you. As long as I see your face, I will be reminded of how she hurt me. How she hated me and made a fool of me.” He darted to the practical desk, lifted an X-ACTO knife, and raced toward her. She screamed but couldn’t disentangle herself from Lyle. He rested on her like a dead weight.
“Dad, don’t!” She threw up her hands.
He slashed at her but missed.
I hurled half of the fused glass heart at him. It hit him in the back. He whirled around and stalked me, aiming the X-ACTO knife at my torso.
“You,” he said, “with your theories and your keen eye. If you would have kept quiet, I’d have protected the secret.”
Realization dawned on me. “It was you. You were the person in blue who warned me in the mobile restroom at the jazz festival. You stole into the bistro and rehung my mirror on a faulty hook so it would crash. You were the one who left the éclair and note outside my door.”
I inched backward and felt the edge of the workbench. I seized the first thing I could, a cup of pencils, and hurled it at him. The pencils shot out like arrows. Edison batted them aside and continued to move toward me.
Lyle stirred. “Edison, don’t!”
“Shut up, you weak-kneed coward. I know the likes of you, preying on my daughter so you can drain her resources.”
“Sir, I love h
er.”
“Quiet!” Edison continued toward me.
With Lyle’s distraction, I was able to spin around. I grabbed the blowtorch and turned back while trying to switch it on. It didn’t ignite. Shoot! How long had it been since Angelica’s mother had used it? Dust had to be clogging the insides. I flicked the switch again. And again. On the fourth try, it flared with a splut-whoosh. I brandished it at Edison. He dodged right.
I grasped the strap of my purse and slung it at Angelica. “Get out my cell phone. Call Sheriff Daly. He’s on my speed dial.” I waved the torch again, keeping focused on Edison. “Don’t come any nearer. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He cackled and reached for my hand. The flame caught his wrist. He yelped.
As Angelica dialed Tyson, I heard another cell phone jangle.
The door to the studio opened, and Tyson hurried in, phone to his ear.
I cried, “How did you—”
“Jo contacted me. Heather was getting vibes.”
Relief washed over me. Thank heaven for Heather and her vibes.
The next few minutes whisked by in a blur. I extinguished the blowtorch. Tyson cuffed Edison. Angelica ran to her father and threw her arms around him.
He melted into her. “I’m sorry,” he repeated over and over.
“I’m sorry, too,” she murmured. “I will always love you. I’ll get you the best defense attorney. I promise.”
She might want to consider a good therapist, I mused. For both of them.
Lyle, who had been sitting on the ground, head between his knees, rose to his feet and joined them, but he seemed to know better than to attempt a group hug. He hung back, chin lowered.
I retrieved my purse and mouthed thank you to Tyson.
He threw me a sour glare, as if I was the one who had put all this in motion. “We’ll talk,” he muttered and ushered Edison out of the studio.
Chapter 26
Angelica rushed to me the moment Tyson and her father disappeared and clasped my hands. “Mimi, what am I going to do?” She sucked back a sob. “He couldn’t have been in his right mind. He loved Uncle Bryan.” She hesitated. “Bryan,” she revised and released my hands. “I guess I can’t refer to him as my uncle any longer.” She started to roam the room, running her finger along the tables, the artwork, the shelving. At the window, she turned and wrapped her arms tightly around her body. “I wish my mother had told me.”
A Deadly Éclair Page 25