by Kate Wilhelm
Jenna sat stony-faced as the message played. When it ended, she lifted her glass and took a long drink of wine.
“He had part of it right,” she said. “Who knows who might listen to those tapes, or what use of them someone might make? I think he’s soulless. Offer a few hundred, collect them, be done with it.”
“I think he won’t give up, at least not yet,” Constance said. “Let’s hear what his sister had to say.”
Jenna put Eve’s cell back in her purse and brought out her own and started the voice mail.
“Ms. Parish, my name is Dorothy Dumond. I want to express my condolence for your loss. I am so sorry. I don’t know if your sister mentioned me, but I was one of the few people she had met here and I thought we might have a cup of tea or a drink and share my memory of her. It might comfort you to talk to someone who had spent a little time with her those last few days. She came to my house to buy a desk, and I found her charming and invited her to share a coffee. At that time she interviewed me. It was a most agreeable hour or so that we spent. Please call me at your convenience.” She gave her cell phone number and the call ended.
“Eve said that woman practically threw her out of the house, thinking she was a tabloid writer,” Jenna said. “She also said Dumond didn’t like her even after she knew better. Hypocritical bitch. What does she want with me? To plead Earl’s case for the tapes? I bet that’s it. She called about an hour after he did.”
“Probably that’s it,” Constance said, rising from her chair. “Sit still. I’m going to get some nibbles before we start on history, curses, and such.” She went inside and stopped at the table to make a note of Dorothy Dumond’s cell phone number, then went on to the refrigerator.
Taking a plate with cheese and crackers, nuts and apple slices, she returned to the balcony. “That’s better,” she said resuming her seat. Jenna helped herself to a cracker and cheese.
“This all started nearly thirty years ago,” Constance began. She kept it brief, sketching in the history of the Bainbridge family, the deaths of three young women, and the disappearance of one.
“So fast forward,” she said. “Now Andrea is nineteen, and she has received a full scholarship to Stillwater College… ”
When she finished telling about the death of Andrea Briacchi, Jenna gasped. “He killed her, too?”
“Her death was officially listed an accident,” Constance said. “I think we could use a refill.” She rose to get the wine.
“But he did,” Jenna said when Constance returned. “I don’t care about the so-called alibi. He did it and got away with it. And he killed my sister.”
“Anyway, the deaths of those young women account for the rumor of a curse. How Dorothy Dumond learned about those deaths is a mystery. It could be that she’s just a busybody with a lot of time on her hands. The drive-by shooting in New York might have made the news here and might have drawn her attention to the family. It’s possible that she made it her business to look up the others, or they might have been included in an article that she read. However that happened, she knew, and she told Andrea and a few others locally.”
For a time they were both silent. The wind had picked up and now there were more wavelets than ripples on the lake. The sun was very low with a thin cloud cover tingeing the light pale yellow. Rain would be moving in, Constance thought. Possibly a thunderstorm. She hoped it would hold off until after the concert scheduled for that night, hoped there would be no pyrotechnics to add to the fear and dread in the small town, throughout the campus, among the gathered parents already close to panic concerning their children.
“What about the fortune they’re talking about?” Jenna asked, breaking the silence. “And they said there was another killing, one of the Bainbridge family members. Constance, what is going on here now? Not a curse, not history, but right now.”
Constance told her about the will and the missing cashier’s checks. “That’s what brought us here in the first place,” she said. “I don’t know why someone killed Pamela Bainbridge, but you’re right, it has nothing to do with a curse. And what we do suspect is that it all ties into the death of Andrea Briacchi Marshall.”
“I’m going mad,” Jenna said after a moment. “None of that has anything to do with my sister. Eve had nothing to do with Andrea Briacchi Marshall, or with the Bainbridge group. Why did you tell me to bring that book Eve marked up? What does that mean?”
“I think it’s very important,” Constance said after a short pause. “I’d like to hold on to it for now.”
#
When Charlie drew near the gingerbread house, he saw a young woman with a microphone talking to a middle-aged couple standing by a pile of luggage at the side of an SUV. A photographer was taking pictures of the group.
The woman with the microphone turned toward him when he started up the walkway to the front door. “Sir, what do you think about the curse? Do you think there’s really a curse here?”
“Harrumph!” he harrumphed in his best manner. “Curses, witches, and hobgoblins, unicorns in the woods, mysterious lights emanating from the lake at midnight. Poppycock! Silly damn nonsense!” He unlocked the door and went inside.
Constance met him at the door of their mini-suite. He gave her a quick kiss, and withdrew the deck of cards from his pocket and tossed it onto the bed. She looked from the cards to him and he nodded.
“Well, wash your hands and join us on the balcony,” she said. “I’ve been filling in Jenna on what’s been happening here.”
A few minutes later, carrying a drink that was not wine, he went to the balcony.
When Jenna turned questioning eyes to him, he said, “I’ve been having a chat with the sheriff. He is not a friendly fellow.”
Quickly Constance told him about the calls Earl Marshall and Dorothy Dumond had made. “So we came here where we’re unreachable,” she finished. “However, Alice has resigned possibly and I told the Bainbridge family that I would provide dinner of one kind or another, and it’s getting late. Lawrence suggested pizzas.”
“Junk food!” Charlie said with enthusiasm. To Jenna he added, “She won’t let me have junk food at home and I crave it. Day and night, month in month out, I crave junk food. It’s my comfort food. Now’s my chance. Let’s go shopping.”
Jenna stood and picked up her purse. “If you can drop me off at the apartment, I’d appreciate it,” she said in a low voice.
“No way,” Charlie said. “You’re with us. I wouldn’t think of leaving you alone with ravenous reporters about, to say nothing of Marshall and Dumond. My girl, it’s time you met the Bainbridge family. You can eat junk food with the rest of us.”
“No,” Jenna said. “I’d rather not. I want to go back to the apartment.”
Constance put her hand on Jenna’s arm and said, “I think it’s best for you to stay with us for now. There’s a murderer around who is both ruthless and cunning. Jenna, I believe you could be in danger. Whoever killed Eve had a reason and might think that whatever she knew, she told you. Or whatever she had, you might now have.”
Jenna paled, looked from Constance to Charlie, who had dropped his jovial manner and nodded.
“Also,” Constance said, “I’d like to lock up that book and those tapes in our suitcase. No one can enter this house without a key, and Millie Olaf and her husband run a tight ship. Your things will be safe here.”
19
BY THE TIME THEY REACHED THE BAINBRIDGE HOUSE, all three were carrying grocery bags stuffed full. Charlie rang the bell and waited for Deke Hanson to open it.
“Lost your key?” Deke asked when he admitted them.
“As you can see we’re loaded,” Charlie said. “Jenna, this is Deke Hanson, the house bodyguard during night hours. Jenna Parish, our guest,” he added to Hanson.
“How you doing, Jenna?” Deke said, taking the grocery b
ag from her. He closed and locked the door and went with them to the kitchen.
Family members emerged from various rooms as they walked, and once in the kitchen Charlie made all the introductions. Tricia hurried to Jenna and embraced her. “I’m so sorry about your loss,” she said. “Please, if there’s anything I can do, I’d like to help you.”
Jenna looked overwhelmed and more bewildered than ever as one after another of the Bainbridges came to shake her hand and express condolences and sympathy. Stuart was the last one to approach her.
“Ms. Parish, I’m so sorry. So sorry. I met Eve. I’d like to tell you about it.”
“Why don’t you two go out to the terrace and talk,” Charlie said. “Lawrence and Ted, how about if you two take charge of the food. It’s a mix of this and that. I guess we’d want coffee later, to go with the cake. Now, a word with Mr. Paley.”
Lawrence was already unloading the groceries. He whistled and said, “You got pickled mushrooms? And paté and brie. Holy shit! It’s party food.”
“Would you like to sit out on the terrace and let me tell you about meeting Eve?” Stuart asked Jenna.
She nodded, and if it was to listen to him or to escape the rest of the family was not clear. As they left by the kitchen door, Charlie and Constance went out the other door to the hall and Paley’s office.
“Hi, Mr. Paley,” Charlie said, entering the makeshift office. “Relax. We’ve brought Jenna Parish with us, and food enough for a small army. I suggest that you avoid town tonight. It’s crawling with reporters, and there’s a rock concert scheduled for the park, with tons of additional security.”
Paley was staring at him as if he had lost his mind. “You brought an outsider? Why? This is turning into a circus, a farce.”
“Not only brought her, I want her to spend the night,” Charlie said. “She’s probably next on the hit list and I don’t intend for that to happen.”
Paley groaned. He couldn’t turn paler than he was, but his tic got worse and he closed his eyes hard, squinching up his whole face. “She can’t. No one can. You know the rules.”
“Rules were made to be broken,” Charlie said. “Come on, Paley, you and I both know it doesn’t matter who comes and goes or who comes and stays. She stays.”
“Meiklejohn, just tell me when this is going to end. I can’t stand it much longer.” His voice broke and he sagged even more in his chair.
“Soon,” Charlie said. “Is Jesperson going to be available this weekend, it being a holiday and all? Will anyone be there to take charge of the checks?”
“Yes, of course. We agreed that if they were found, I would call and he will be there to meet me and take charge of them, no matter when it happens.”
“Good,” Charlie said. “Why don’t you get some of your stuff and most of the books packed up, ready to pull out as soon as possible after I hand them over.”
Paley looked up with hope writ large on his features. “Soon? You mean it? Soon?”
Charlie nodded. “Soon.”
“That poor man,” Constance said when they left Paley. “Even if he did try to get away with it, he’s still pitiful now.”
“So is a cornered skunk,” Charlie muttered. “Let’s find Tricia.”
They found her overseeing the food being arranged on the dining table. Charlie beckoned to her to join them in the library.
“Have plans been made about Pamela’s body when they release her remains?” he asked.
She rubbed her eyes. “Stuart’s been on the phone with William a couple of times,” she said. “It’s just such a burden for William now, and he feels it’s his responsibility to do what needs to be done. I suggested cremation, and if any of Pamela’s family surfaces, let them dispose of the ashes. I don’t know what they’ll decide. Anything would be better than having her remains shipped to Florida for a burial there. At least I hope that isn’t what William will decide.”
“Tricia,” Constance said, “you don’t have to become involved in this final decision. You have enough on your mind.”
“It’s just that Stuart is so despairing. So afraid they’ll arrest him, charge him. I’m almost afraid he’ll simply get in his camper and take off for Florida, and that would be terrible for him. They might think he’s trying to flee the country or something.”
“Has he mentioned anything like that?” Charlie asked.
“No, at least not directly. But he’s worried about William, worried about this whole mess, Pamela’s death, Eve Parish. Why on earth did you bring Jenna Parish here?”
“To keep her safe,” Constance said.
Tricia’s eyes widened and she moistened her lips. “You think… Oh God, not that.”
“Not if we can help it,” Charlie said. “What I’m going to suggest later is that Ted and Lawrence go to your apartment with you and see that you get inside and the door locked before they go on to their own place. And I want Stuart to stay here tonight, not in the woods in his camper. Jenna doesn’t know it yet, but she’s going to stay here, too. There’s a bedroom upstairs she can use, and Stuart can have the sofa in the living room. I want you to back us up when I tell them.”
She was very pale, but she nodded.
“Now, let’s see what the guys have done about dinner,” Charlie said.
It appeared that most of the food was now on the table. Pizza had been baked, slaw put in a big bowl, paté in a crock, brie and crackers, nachos, a bowl of fruit salad, another of a green salad, three bottles of wines, white and red… When Tricia spotted a chocolate cake on the table, she picked it up and took it to the kitchen. She went to the back door and out to collect Jenna and Stuart, and Constance went to Paley’s door to call him to dinner.
“Better than anything Alice has done,” Lawrence said, helping himself to pizza. “There’s another one just like this in the oven, by the way. When the timer goes off, I’ll bring it out.”
It was nine o’clock by the time the table had been cleared, dishes put in the dishwasher, and leftovers stowed in the refrigerator. They were all milling about in the kitchen where everyone had pitched in to help clean up. Paley had fixed himself a plate and had taken it to his office, but he was there returning the plate.
“Hey, everyone,” Charlie said loud enough to be heard over the noise of the dishwasher and the little bit of talk going on. “Change of plans. Listen up. As you might have noticed it’s past eight and we’re all still here. At around ten or so, town’s going to get crazy again with people leaving the concert, but there’s going to be a lot of them lingering, the way they do after rock concerts. It’s too hard to keep track of anyone in particular with such things going on. I want Jenna to stay here overnight, out of range of reporters, photographers, any one else who might want to get her attention.”
Jenna gasped and shook her head violently. She had relaxed during dinner even if she had been silent for the most part, but with his words she was tense and alarmed. “I can’t do that! I can’t stay here!”
“Of course you can,” Charlie said. “There’s a perfectly good bedroom upstairs, clean sheets, towels and stuff in an adjoining bathroom, and a house bodyguard on duty all night. Stuart’s going to stay here, too. Not in the woods in a camper.”
Stuart looked as startled as Jenna had, and shook his head just as hard. “That’s crazy,” he said.
Charlie eyed him kindly and said, “The sheriff is going to collar you for two murders just as soon as he thinks he has enough to hold you. It would be very convenient both for him and for a murderer if you happened to have a fatal accident first. You’d be named, the case could be closed. Sheriff gets to go home. No damned trial necessary with its bothersome need for overwhelming proof. You stay here.”
“He’s right,” Tricia said faintly. “No one keeps track of who comes and goes in the state park. You can keep Jenna company, watch movies or somet
hing until you’re both ready for bed.”
“But I don’t have a thing with me,” Jenna said.
“There are new toothbrushes in a drawer in the bathroom,” Constance said. “Not yet opened, original wrapping. Help yourself and give one to Stuart.”
“One night? Two? How many nights are we talking about?” Stuart demanded.
“One night,” Charlie said.
There was a sudden silence, a cessation of all movements for a few moments. Ted broke it. “Is that on the level?”
Charlie nodded. “One night.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Paley walk out quickly, and a moment later heard him on the stairs. He thought Paley might have decided to do a little packing.
“So that’s settled,” he said. “Tricia, I don’t like the idea of your driving around alone, either. How about if you, Ted, and Lawrence all leave together and let them see you home and locked in.”
“I have a better idea,” Lawrence said. “Tricia, you have a sofa bed in that apartment, as well as your own bedroom bed. I’ll camp out on the sofa bed tonight.”
Ted nodded, and after a moment Tricia nodded also.
“Better and better,” Charlie said. “And now Constance and I will take off, before the concert ends and the streets get crazy. We’ll see you all tomorrow.”