by Ellen Hart
“Well then, what did you order for me?”
“Um, well—”
Cordelia narrowed one eye. “Spit it out, Jane. You’re obviously trying to communicate.”
“It’s just—”
“I’m not invited. Is that it? You feel you don’t need my expertise?”
Jane hated to hurt her feelings, but she didn’t need Cordelia tagging along. “Right.”
“Proceed at your peril,” she said portentously.
“I’m not going to marry her. At least not tonight. There will be plenty of time for you to get to know her.”
“All right. I won’t belabor the point, at least not now. I will expect a full report in the morning. Anyway, before I go, I should tell you that Wilburn Lowry called. He couldn’t find the business card you gave him, but he knew we were staying with Emma, so he called the lake house.”
“What did he want?”
“For you to call him first thing tomorrow morning. He said he needs to talk to you, that it’s vitally important.”
“Vitally? He didn’t say anything else?”
“No. Now, as long as you’re leaving the table unoccupied, maybe I’ll stay and have dinner.”
Jane hated to think of her eating alone.
“Emma has that final meeting with the reunion committees tonight. She asked me what I was doing for dinner. I think I’ll call her and tell her to join me. She doesn’t have to be over to the VFW hall until seven-thirty.”
“Great idea,” said Jane. “Are you coming to the art festival event in the morning? They’re announcing the silent-auction winners.”
“I suppose I’ll have to be there,” said Cordelia. “I don’t know why they schedule these things so early.”
When Leslie returned, she drew an unused chair away from another table and sat down. “It will be a few more minutes.”
Cordelia backed up a few inches and stared down her nose at Leslie. “Since we have some time, why don’t we get some basic details out of the way.”
“Details?”
“Date of birth. Place of birth. Yearly income. Dating history. Religious and political affiliation.”
Leslie looked at Jane, hoping for an explanation.
“I’m just kidding,” said Cordelia.
Jane let out a breath.
“There’s plenty of time for that later. But,” she added, adjusting her fez, “you’re a politician, my dear. In the few minutes we have remaining, perhaps you’d like to explain Brexit to me.”
37
On Friday morning, Jane and Leslie drove separately to the art center. On the way there, Jane shook her head in wonderment at the night she’d just spent. She couldn’t quite believe how much fun she’d had. It was a word she’d almost forgotten. Now that it was back in her life, she was more than a little intoxicated by it.
The food from the restaurant hadn’t turned out to be as good as they’d hoped. Leslie hadn’t liked her dinner at all, so they ended up splitting Jane’s bastilla, talking nonstop the entire time. Jane was beginning to see the kind of woman Leslie was—generous, imaginative, introspective, maybe a little too idealistic—and she liked what she saw.
After dinner, they’d listened to music, mostly oldies, and eventually got up and danced their way into the bedroom, where they fell on the bed laughing. It felt strange to be with someone who was so much fun. Even in good times, Julia had never been like that. Around midnight, deciding they were hungry and deserving of a treat, Jane, brandy in hand, tossed together the makings for one huge chocolate chip cookie. They ate it while playing Scrabble using made up words. The only rule was, whatever you made up, you had to be able to define. It was an experience she wanted to repeat.
Jane arrived at the art center before Leslie. She waved to Emma and Cordelia, who were seated toward the back. The room, which was normally an exhibition space, had been set up with chairs and a lectern. She was a little surprised to see so many people in attendance. She did a quick count and realized it was close to forty. Taking a seat near the front, she offered Leslie a restrained smile when she walked in and sat down next to Cordelia.
The head of the council, Connie Johnson, a gray-haired woman in a blue linen blazer, welcomed everyone to the morning event. She thanked several dozen people for their help with the festival and then launched into a short pitch for the next day’s main event: Cordelia Thorn’s talk about the importance of community theater in the life of a small community, to be delivered at the Rialto theater. Cordelia stood, gratefully and skillfully acknowledging the applause. Once all that was out of the way, the names of the silent auction winners were announced. People stood as their names were called. The gourmet dinner was the last. When Leslie’s name was read, Jane turned to smile at her. Standing, Leslie clasped her hands together like a winning prize fighter and beamed at the crowd. Jane couldn’t help but wonder how much she’d bid. The art council was no doubt appreciative of her generosity, which was the point. Jane was grateful, too, because it meant another date with the mayor.
As everyone began leaving, Jane stood up and looked around. Leslie nodded to her as she ducked out, holding a pretend phone to her ear and grinning. Cordelia was engulfed by people wanting a moment with her, which left Emma alone—just the person Jane wanted to talk to. They walked out together. It was a beautiful day, perfect weather for that night’s bonfire.
“How did your reunion meeting go last night?” asked Jane. What she really wanted to know was whether or not Kurt had talked to her about Sam.
“So-so,” said Emma. “You know, don’t you? Kurt said he’d already spoken to you.”
They walked to a bench in the park and sat down.
“Initially, I guess, I was both shocked and confused,” Emma began. “But I understand some things now, why Sam was the way he was.”
“You mean about him being gay? You never wondered?”
“I did, sure, but it’s not the kind of thing you ask the guy you’re dating. And honestly, I figured if it turned out he was gay, I was okay with it. Even then, as much as I cared about him, I didn’t think we’d be together forever. More than anything, we were friends.”
“And the rest?”
“That’s harder. Kurt was afraid I’d never want to see him again after I found out, but that wasn’t my reaction at all. He was sucked into that ridiculous insanity pretty much against his will. He tried to talk Sam out of it. Between you and me, I think he’s really scared that when this comes out, he’ll go to jail. But how could he? He’s every bit as much of a victim as Sam. The only reason he never spoke up about what happened was because of Monty’s threat. Who knew Dave and Monty were such scum?”
“I’m glad Sam had you in his life,” said Jane.
“Sam and Kurt,” said Emma. “Oh, gosh, look at the time. I’ve got so much to do before tonight.”
“Did you get a chance to talk to your uncle Grady?”
“Yes, he said he’d be free at eleven.”
“I can’t thank you enough.”
“I wish you’d tell me what you have planned.”
“Let’s just hope it works.”
Emma sighed as she rose from the bench. “I wish I weren’t leaving next week. But I have to get home. Philip has been making more noises about getting back together.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“It’s never going to happen.”
There was a finality in Emma’s voice.
“And Scott? Is he still texting you nonstop?”
“That guy is bonkers. He’s one person I’ll be glad to put in the rearview mirror.”
“You’re being careful, right?”
“As careful as I can be. I really don’t see him trying to hurt me. I just think he’s obsessive. Once I’m gone, he’ll find someone new to fixate on. Lucky her.”
* * *
Wilburn Lowry was carrying a broken rocking chair down the front steps as Jane pulled up outside the Mickler house a few minutes later. She rolled down the window and ca
lled, “Where do you want to talk?”
“Give me a sec,” he called back, stuffing the chair above a bunch of other junk toward the back of the van. And then he slipped into the seat next to her.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“You’re never gonna believe this. I found something last night I think could be important. Down in the basement, under a lot of other crap, I discovered a black plastic leaf-and-lawn bag with a varsity letterman jacket inside. When I saw the blood on it, I closed it right back up.”
“Are you sure it was blood?”
“Trust me. I know what old blood looks like.”
“Do you know who the jacket belonged to?”
“Dave Tamborsky. There was a patch with his name sewn on the inside, near the collar.”
Jane hadn’t expected that.
“What should I do with it?” asked Lowry.
“Leave it right where you found it.”
“Already done that. But what do you think it means?”
Her mind was already spinning through the possibilities.
“What I wonder is, if it belonged to Dave, why did Monty have it?” Lowry said. “It looked like he tried to remove the chenille letter. He got it halfway off, but then just left it. What’s all that about?”
“I’m not sure.” What if it actually was Sam’s blood? If so, then it was a direct link between Dave, Monty, and Sam’s murder.
“Do you think Dave might have had something to do with Sam Romilly’s death?” asked Lowry.
“Yeah, I do.”
“So, should we turn it over to the cops?”
“I think we have to.” She didn’t have a lot confidence in the local police, though she did feel she had no other choice than to take a chance. Emma insisted that her uncle, the police chief, Grady Larson, was a man with a great deal of integrity. Jane was about to test that theory.
38
Classmates began to arrive at Emma’s lake house around nine that night. Kurt had left the homecoming game early so he could help get the fire on the beach going. The temperature was in the low sixties, with minimal wind and clear skies; a perfect evening for a bonfire.
Earlier in the day, a few guys from the class had dug a pit in the sand and unloaded a bunch of firewood from a U-Haul, carrying it down to the beach. Some of the wood seemed green to Kurt, though other logs were excessively old and dry. With the help of fire starters, the blaze was finally going strong. Several dozen metal tiki torches had been set up around the property, all filled with citronella to ward off mosquitos. Standing on the patio and watching as more and more classmates began to congregate down by the lake, Kurt found it a lovely sight.
Emma had been flitting from person to person, welcoming everyone, explaining that the grills were almost hot and it wouldn’t be long before the buffet table, set up on the patio, would be stocked with burgers, brats, buns, all the fixings, as well as potato chips and brownies.
Ted drifted in around ten, saying that the Castle Lake Knights had lost again. That explained why people had been arriving early. He stood with Kurt near the keg for a while and talked to friends, most of whom they hadn’t seen in years. Kurt judged that maybe half the guests were down on the beach. He was beginning to smell smoke from the sizzling brats, so that would change as soon as the round chafing dishes were filled.
Monty and Dave hadn’t arrived yet. Kurt wondered if they’d even put in an appearance. Looking around for Emma, he excused himself and went into the house. They hadn’t had a chance to talk privately since last night. If he was going to enjoy the evening at all, he needed to make sure things were still okay. Finding her alone in the living room, he partially closed the pocket doors so they could have some privacy.
Emma seemed deep in thought. She stood quietly staring up at the painting of her mother and father above the mantel.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, moving up next to her.
With her eyes still fixed on the painting, she said, “They were so happy. Don’t you wonder how that happens?”
“I don’t think it ever just happens. I think it takes work.”
“But there has to be … something. A shared set of values, beliefs, whatever. I worked at my marriage, but it fell apart anyway.”
“I’m not sure Philip was trying as hard as you were.”
“No, you’re right. We shared a lot of passion, at least early on, but clearly we had different ideas about the ground rules.”
“Relationships are always difficult.”
“Maybe, but my parents made it look easy.” She sat down on one of the couches.
Kurt sat down on the couch across from her.
“Philip texted me a few minutes ago. He said he’d pick me up at the airport in San Jose, that he really wanted to, but now he’s getting some friend to do it. I texted back that I was an adult and could find my own way home.”
“How are you going to pull off living with him until Verity graduates?” asked Kurt.
She shook her head. “With my teeth gritted and my eyes averted.”
“Are we okay, Emma? You and me?”
“We’re fine. I think I was just in shock last night. It’s a lot to take in.”
“Sam never wanted to hurt you. Neither did I.” She hadn’t really answered the central question he’d put to her. “You never suspected Sam was gay?”
“I suppose, if I’m honest, there were a few tells. I noticed the way he looked at other guys. He was the captain of the swim team, so I guess I thought he was looking at them to judge what kind of swimmers they might be.”
Kurt couldn’t help himself. He laughed at the absurdity.
“Yeah, I know. Talk about naive.”
“No, I’m not laughing at you. It’s what we all do. We spin these stories when we don’t understand something. It’s so human.”
Kurt turned when he heard a knock.
“Am I interrupting something important?” asked Ted, sticking his head inside the doors.
“Not at all,” said Emma. “Come join us.”
Removing a folded piece of typing paper from the back pocket of his jeans, he came in and handed it to her. “That’s the quote I promised you on the electrical repair. You were right. The first guy you had out here probably took one look at the house and jacked the price up accordingly.”
“Just what I thought,” said Emma.
“But, yesterday, while I was looking around, I did find some other things you really need to address.”
“Such as?”
He sat down next to Kurt. “Well, most critically, the roof. It needs to be replaced as soon as possible. You’ve got some water damage in a couple of the bedrooms, which you may have noticed. It’s only going to get worse, and the fix will be more expensive the longer you wait. Also, I found a couple of worrying cracks in the foundation. That should be looked at by a structural engineer. I don’t think it’s anything that can’t be repaired. Also, you have plumbing problems.”
“Ugh,” said Emma. “Should we just tear the place down?”
“No,” said Ted, laughing. “Your parents put off the repairs and they shouldn’t have, which has left you with a lot of work to do, but this house is incredible. I think that you should consider contacting the state historic-preservation office to ask that it be placed on the national historic register.”
“Seriously?”
“I can get you some information if you want.”
“What?” asked Kurt, seeing a look of distress on Emma’s face.
“How am I going to handle all this from California? And who can I trust to do the work?” She sat back, drumming her fingers on the arm of the couch. “You know … an idea just occurred to me. The guy who caretakes the property when I’m gone is moving to Arizona to be closer to his daughter. I’ve been talking to another guy, hoping to convince him to take it over, but the truth is, I don’t like him. What if—” She looked at Ted. “What if I hired you to do the repairs? You said you planned to move back to Castle Lake, that yo
u and Kurt were thinking of buying a house together. What if you lived here, took care of the place while I’m away?”
Kurt and Ted exchanged glances.
“Let’s think this through,” said Emma. “As far as I’m concerned, you two could live here rent free as long as the grass gets cut regularly, the flower beds tended, and the snow shoveled in the winter. I would pay for all the repair materials if you’d chip in the work. Does that sound like something you two might be interested in?”
Kurt couldn’t believe his ears. Living in a place like this would feel like a dream.
“It’s tempting,” said Ted.
“The other proviso would be that you’d need to keep one of the bedrooms free for me, and a second for my daughter, should I ever convince her to come here. There are five bedrooms, so that still gives you three for your own use—say, if Danny wants to come stay here, too. All I ask is that you treat the place the way you would your own. We could put this all into a contract. Spell it all out.”
“I can’t spend my time just working on this house,” said Ted.
“No, I understand that. If what you said about the roof is correct, maybe you should start there. I don’t really care how long it takes to do the repairs, as long as the house doesn’t fall apart in the meantime. I guess I should ask how much you think the materials would cost?”
“It won’t be cheap. Maybe twenty thousand. Likely more, depending on what I find.”
“I would happily caretake the grounds,” said Kurt.
“I never even took the pontoon out of the boat house this summer. You would have use of that, too.”
Ted took hold of Kurt’s hand. “I think we should do it.”
Kurt wasn’t one for snap decisions, but this was an offer he couldn’t pass up. “I’m in, too.”
“Fabulous.” Emma clapped her hands. “We have a deal. Well,” she said, pushing off the couch, “I better see to my guests.”
Still holding hands, Kurt and Ted followed her out.
* * *
Kurt was talking to Jane, Cordelia, and a bunch of old classmates when Dave finally appeared. He was alone, in uniform, and looking about as stone-faced and grim as Kurt had ever seen before. Glancing around nervously, he shook a few hands, slapped a few backs. When he caught Kurt’s eye, he made straight for him. They walked a few paces away from the crowd, away from the bonfire and the light from the tiki torches.