Death in a Beach Chair

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Death in a Beach Chair Page 13

by Valerie Wolzien


  “You can tell him that you left me in the restaurant. He’ll believe it. He knows that I eat when I get nervous,” Kathleen said.

  Jed stopped. “Kathleen, everything’s going to be all right.”

  “It will be if I have anything to do about it,” she answered.

  He smiled. “I’d place my bet on you two any day of the week. But-”

  “-be careful.” Susan finished his sentence for him.

  Jed placed an arm around his wife’s shoulders and gave her a quick hug. “You read my mind.”

  “Nothing like thirty years of practice,” she said, grinning.

  “So thirty years is what it takes,” Kathleen muttered.

  Susan and Jed exchanged looks. “Why don’t you go on back to the kitchen alone? You can order Jerry’s dinner and check to see if his lunch is ready at the same time,” Susan suggested to her friend.

  “I spoke with a woman named Sissy when I called, so you might look for her,” Jed added.

  “Got it. I’ll be back in a few.”

  “How’s she holding up?” Jed asked, watching Kathleen walk away.

  “I don’t know. We had a long conversation about June. Jerry hadn’t talked much about her, and Kathleen was curious.” They had come to the large coral stone retaining wall, and the Henshaws leaned against it and looked out to sea. “I hadn’t thought about June in years,” she continued, watching as the honeymooning couple horsed around in a two-man kayak.

  “Not surprising. Kathleen is a better friend-and probably a better wife-than June ever was.”

  Susan’s mouth dropped open, and she looked over at her husband, astonished. “Didn’t you like her?”

  “Not really.”

  “I can’t believe it. Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

  “What good would that have done? Anyway, she was married to Jerry. It didn’t really matter how I felt about her.”

  Susan was astounded. “I had no idea!”

  “Well, you two were such good friends. I thought saying anything would be inappropriate.”

  “But you like Kath.”

  “Of course I do. I’m crazy about her. And so is Jerry.”

  “Were Jerry and June having problems with their marriage when she died?”

  “You’d probably know more about that than I would. Jerry and I don’t talk about our marriages as a rule.”

  “June didn’t talk to me like that. We weren’t particularly close.”

  It was Jed’s turn to be surprised. “Susan…”

  “I don’t think I realized it at the time, Jed…”

  “Susan…”

  “And I still miss the kids…”

  “And maybe you don’t want to talk about this right now. We could be overheard. And considering the situation…”

  Susan looked around. The newlyweds had fallen overboard and were enthusiastically dunking each other. A man was sunning himself on a float in the middle of the swimming pool, and half a dozen other guests were lounging on the patio. The bridge players had resumed their tournament, and as Susan watched, Ro became the dummy and got up and walked around to examine her partner’s hand. “Jed, have you ever played cards with Jerry before today?”

  “Of course. Sometimes there’s a game going on in the locker room at the club. A bunch of us get together for golf and have to kill time until we can tee off. You know how it is.”

  She didn’t, but she nodded anyway.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know. I was just wondering about the two couples that play bridge. Why would they come to a gorgeous place like this and just sit around and play cards? Couldn’t they do that at home?”

  “Sure. But at home it’s cold and wet if not actually snowy. Here it’s warm, beautiful, and they can get a tan while they play. Why were you thinking about them?”

  “I don’t know. I keep thinking that it’s odd that Jerry would mention card playing to you. Those two couples are the only thing I can think of that he might be talking about.”

  “Maybe they saw something.”

  “But that’s not what you said. You said that Jerry said to listen to what the cardplayers were saying.”

  Jed shrugged. “I have no idea what he was talking about. Guess it’s up to you and Kathleen to figure that one out.”

  “Just one of the small mysteries. Maybe if we find an answer to that one, we’ll be a bit closer to finding the murderer.”

  NINETEEN

  When people hailing from the same state meet in a foreign country, they usually spend some time discussing the locations of homes and the possibility of having acquaintances in common. Susan and Kathleen and Peggy and Frank Romeo initially followed this convention.

  Peggy and Frank Romeo were from northwestern Connecticut, over sixty miles from Hancock. But the foursome did manage to discover three friends in common, as well as a fondness for the cheese soufflés served at the same country inn. Formalities over, they got down to business.

  “We were really sorry to hear about your husband,” Frank said to Kathleen, brushing his red hair off his forehead. A tall, thin, and rather tired-looking man, he had done most of the talking. His wife, short, dark, and heavyset, had spent their time together quietly sipping her rum punch and smiling.

  “Thank you,” Kathleen replied politely.

  “We’re sure the police will discover that they’ve made a mistake soon and they’ll let him go,” Susan added.

  “Some people here are saying that you have some experience investigating murder,” Frank said.

  “Yes, I do,” Susan answered.

  “So, of course, you are trying to help your friends,” he suggested.

  “Yes.” Susan paused. “Kathleen and I thought that’s why you wanted to talk to us. Not that we don’t appreciate your sympathy…”

  “And the cocktails,” Kathleen added, raising her gin and tonic to her lips.

  “We did think you needed to relax,” Frank began.

  “And we wanted to offer our support,” Peggy said. “Here you are, far from home, among strangers. This must be so distressing.”

  Susan nodded. “It is. We need all the help we can get if we’re going to help Jerry.”

  “That’s what we were thinking. It’s why we sent that note to your table at lunch,” Frank explained. “You see, we know something you don’t know.”

  Susan almost giggled at the childish expression. “Something about Allison,” she guessed.

  “And something about your husband,” Peggy added to Kathleen. “We think we know why he was arrested.”

  “He was arrested because the police have made a terrible mistake,” Kathleen said.

  “Oh, we don’t think he was guilty of murder,” Frank explained quickly. “We think he was guilty of love.”

  “My husband believes-and I must say I have come to agree with him-that your husband was in love with Allison McAllister,” Peggy explained, reaching across the table and placing her hand on Kathleen’s forearm.

  Kathleen shook off the caress and sat up straighter. “And exactly how did you get that impression?” she asked coldly.

  “I can assure you that we didn’t make it up,” Peggy insisted.

  “And we in no way want to distress you,” Frank added.

  “You see, Allison herself told us,” Peggy answered.

  “How did that happen? Were you sitting together and she saw Jerry and just said, ‘I’m in love with that man and he’s in love with me’?” Kathleen sounded furious.

  “I’m afraid you need to explain more. We have to understand exactly how this all came up,” Susan pointed out.

  “My husband was not in love with another woman,” Kathleen insisted, ignoring Susan.

  Peggy reached out for Kathleen again and then, apparently thinking the better of it, put her hand around her glass. “I understand exactly how you are feeling. You see, about a year ago, my best friend came to me and told me that Frank was in love with someone else. I was shocked. I had had no ide
a. But before we go on, you should look at Frank and me. We’re here on our second honeymoon. Our marriage is stronger than ever. This could be the enlightening moment when you see your marriage for what it has become. And only by confronting reality can you change it. You and your husband will be just fine. I promise.”

  “My husband is not in love with someone else,” Kathleen repeated.

  “But-”

  “Perhaps we should tell these women just why we’re saying this,” Frank said to his wife.

  “That’s an excellent idea,” Susan agreed.

  “I’d like another drink.” Kathleen drained her glass.

  Frank Romeo was apparently one of those men who could demand instant attention from waiters and waitresses. One wave of his hand, a quick order, and less than five minutes later, everyone at the table was enjoying a fresh drink and Peggy began their story.

  “I suppose I must begin by explaining honestly that I did not like Allison McAllister.”

  “But I did-” Frank started.

  “Of course you did. She flirted outrageously with you,” Peggy said, glaring at her husband. “Now if you will allow me to continue…”

  “Please.” He narrowed his eyes and glared back. Susan wondered if this was going to be one of the shortest second honeymoons on record.

  “Allison approached us the first morning we were here. We had spent the night in a motel near the airport in Miami, took the first plane out in the morning, and were here in time for brunch.”

  “That way we get an extra day at the resort without paying for an extra night,” Frank explained. “We always do that on vacation.”

  “I’m sure these women aren’t interested in your cheap ways.” Peggy picked up her glass and then put it back down without drinking. For one moment, Susan had thought she was going to pour it over her husband’s head.

  “So Allison approached you,” Kathleen prompted.

  “We were placed at a table right next to her. And, of course, we said hello right away.”

  “Frank has a hard time ignoring attractive women. Even when he’s on his second honeymoon.”

  “We don’t have all day,” Kathleen announced, downing her drink in a few gulps and acting as though she was about to get up.

  “And we’re going to tell you about meeting Allison,” Peggy said. “I’m sorry. Sometimes it’s difficult to forgive and forget. As you will learn,” she added to Kathleen.

  “You sat next to Allison while you enjoyed the first brunch of your second honeymoon,” Susan prompted.

  “Yes. And, of course, we introduced ourselves, as people do in a place like this. And Allison was very helpful. We couldn’t get into our cottage immediately, and she suggested we use her cottage to change in so we could use the pool and start to get some sun.”

  “How nice of her,” Susan said. “Which cottage was she in?”

  “Number nine. It’s the first two-story cottage you come to walking down the beach. I think she may have been the only single person here staying in a cottage that large. I must admit I was disappointed when I discovered that we had reserved one of the smaller cottages nearer the restaurant.”

  “We’re all staying in one-story cottages,” Kathleen said. “So you went to number nine and changed into your swimsuits.”

  “Yes, and we-the three of us-went out to sit in the gazebo. We were actually sitting together so close to the spot where she died that it makes me shiver. Perhaps even in the same deck chair. Even now when I think about it…” Peggy actually shivered.

  “My wife is very emotional,” Frank said.

  She glared at him before continuing. “Frank was tired and he took a rather long and noisy nap, but Allison and I got along so well. We chatted about ourselves-you know the way you do-and I told her about our second honeymoon. And she told me that she was here to meet a man, a man she has been in love with for years. At first she didn’t mention your husband by name. But then she started saying Jerry. She did seem to feel slightly uncomfortable admitting that this Jerry-well, your Jerry,” she added, glancing at Kathleen. “That he was married. I mean, I’d told her about the woman who wrecked-almost wrecked-our marriage, so it was quite natural that she wouldn’t feel comfortable admitting to being the other woman, although in a very different situation, of course.”

  “Why do you think the situations were so different?” Susan asked.

  “Well, Frank’s affair was just a physical thing.” Peggy looked over at her husband, and Susan thought the expression on her face just dared him to disagree with her. “Allison, on the other hand, had been in love with your husband for years and years. I believe she actually said decades.”

  “So she claims she was in love with him when he was married to her sister,” Kathleen said.

  “Yes. I suppose that’s why they kept their affair a secret.”

  “And did she explain why they didn’t get together after she died?” Kathleen asked.

  Apparently Peggy didn’t hear the sarcasm in Kathleen’s voice. “She did mention that. She said he was so broken up over her sister’s death that he didn’t know what he was doing for years afterward.”

  “He didn’t know what he was doing?”

  “She said he had a breakdown. Poor man. Anyway, he married you and had children and then, years later, Allison ran into him.”

  “Where?”

  Peggy looked at Susan as though she had asked something odd. “In the town he lives in, of course.”

  “Oh.” Susan looked over at Kathleen. She knew they were both wondering what had brought Allison back to Hancock after all these years.

  “Yes, she said she ran into him on the street while she was shopping. I told her that their meeting like that sounded like it was meant to be, and she agreed with me.”

  “And then what happened?” Susan asked.

  “Their affair started up again almost immediately.”

  “She kept coming to Hancock?” Kathleen asked coldly.

  “No, she said they met at her place in New York City. He took her out to dinner, to see the latest plays, and to art exhibits, as well. She said the last few years have been the best of her life.”

  “Years?” Susan asked. Kathleen merely glared at her empty glass without speaking.

  “Yes, years,” Peggy affirmed.

  “And you’re saying that Jerry and Allison went to restaurants, theaters, museums, and art galleries without running into any of our friends?” Kathleen asked.

  “Oh, but don’t you see? That wasn’t a problem for them-unlike my husband and his trashy paramour who couldn’t explain to my best friend why they were together in the lobby of the Plaza in the middle of the afternoon in the middle of the week.”

  “Why wasn’t it a problem?” Susan asked.

  “Because she was his ex-sister-in-law. They had a relationship that everyone knew about. They didn’t have to worry about being seen together.”

  “And you don’t think that a mutual friend might have told Kathleen if she ran into Jerry and Allison together in the city?” Susan asked.

  “Actually, a friend of mine did see them together a little over a month ago. They were having lunch together in the bar of the Four Seasons,” Kathleen said slowly.

  “But that doesn’t mean anything really,” Susan insisted. “Jerry works near the Four Seasons. He has to eat lunch. That meeting could have meant nothing.”

  “And why, if Allison and Jerry really were seeing each other all over the city back in the States, did they meet here?” Kathleen asked.

  “Because Jerry wanted to tell you about their relationship without your children around. He wanted to ask you for a divorce so he could marry Allison.”

  TWENTY

  Kathleen carefully put down her glass and pushed her chair back. She stood up, snatched her straw bag off the floor, slung it over her shoulder, and stamped out of the bar without saying a word. Susan followed immediately.

  Kathleen headed straight for her cottage, climbed the stairs to her deck,
yanked open her door, and stormed right in.

  “You didn’t lock your door,” Susan said, trailing her friend into the cool, dark interior.

  “Jerry’s in jail, a strange woman just informed me that my marriage is a big lie, and you think I should be worried about locking the cottage door in case someone wants to steal a few suitcases full of overpriced resort clothing?” Kathleen’s final words were muffled.

  “Kathleen! You’re crying!” Susan was shocked. “You don’t believe the garbage that woman was saying, do you?”

  “Part of me doesn’t. And part of me knows that every woman whose husband has betrayed her has refused to believe the truth when she first heard it.”

  “Kathleen, it’s not the truth. Jerry wasn’t in love with Allison. I’m sure of it.”

  Kathleen grabbed some tissues from the box by the bed, blew her nose, and dried her eyes. “Okay. Susan, think about this as though you don’t know the people involved. If we had been told that story about someone we had never met, you and I would be sitting here discussing those poor, foolish women that Jerry had cheated on.”

  “Not Jerry! I know Jerry, and the man Peggy described-a man who had an affair, then was so shaken by the loss of his wife that he married-”

  “That he married me. The first woman to come along,” Kathleen said bitterly.

  “The first woman to come along?” Susan squeaked. “Are you nuts? Jerry was the most eligible widower in Hancock for years. I introduced him to at least a dozen women, and I’ll bet half our friends did the same thing. You were not the first woman to come along. You were the first woman he fell in love with! Period! Jerry was miserable after June and the kids died, but he didn’t go insane and he had recovered any emotional stability he had lost long before he met you! And he was not in love with Allison.”

  “Susan, you can’t be sure of that.”

  “I-well, probably not, but she was always kind of an odd person,” Susan insisted, realizing her argument was losing steam. “I mean, her own sister had trouble with her coming to stay.”

  “What if the reason June had such a difficult time being her sister’s hostess was because she suspected there was something going on between Jerry and Allison? Now, don’t have some sort of knee-jerk reaction and tell me I’m wrong. Think about it! It could be true, couldn’t it?”

 

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