“I’m afraid it might make me look guilty.”
“Guilty of what?”
“Nothing, since I didn’t do anything … but haven’t you ever noticed that you don’t need to be guilty to feel guilty?”
I smiled. “All the time. The good girl’s curse. I think you should bring a lawyer. Do you have one?”
“Just our family attorney. She handled the house closing, prepared our wills, simple things. Do you have a recommendation?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”
I told her I’d email her Max’s name and contact info and assured her that she couldn’t do better. We agreed to meet at six.
* * *
I called Max on his cell to give him a heads-up.
“Josie! I was just thinking of you. I’m in my car en route to meeting Lainy. She’s so enthusiastic … I love it. I’m auditioning for the part of Billy Flynn. Maybe we’ll end up working together. How’re things in your world?”
“Good, good.” I told him I’d passed along his name to Maudie and shared how much I liked her.
“Do you think she’s mixed up in this?”
“No. I mean, I don’t know, but I don’t think so.”
“Something’s got you all jittery.”
“I’ll just feel better knowing you’re there with her and on her side.”
“Fair enough. Come and join Lainy and me for a drink. Listen to us talk about the Great White Way.”
I laughed, charmed as I always was by Max’s joie de vivre, and accepted. He told me they were meeting at five at Delany’s, the pub near Belle Vista.
* * *
I got to Delany’s early and sat in the parking lot, thinking about keys, and all at once, I realized there was another person who had a key to Maudie’s apartment—Lainy.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
I called Ellis and got him.
“It’s Lainy,” I said.
“How did you know?”
“What?”
“We just arrested her. I’m en route to Belle Vista now. How did you know it was her?”
“She broke into Maudie’s place?” I asked, aghast.
“Yes … your idea about the hidden cameras worked. For the third time—how did you know?”
“I didn’t. I mean, I didn’t know she’d broken in. I just remembered she had access to a master key, and she wanted money—in her case, to fund her career in New York City. Ellis, she was wearing boots when I was attacked. Do you think she broke in then, too? Did she attack me?”
“She has no alibi. We’ll see what she says.”
“Oh, Ellis! What was she thinking?”
“I doubt she was doing a lot of thinking. Probably it’s an opportunistic crime. She saw a chance to make a big score and decided to go for it.”
“You have her on video?”
“Clear as day.”
“I’m sick.”
“I know.”
He thanked me for the call and said he had to go.
I was tempted to stay where I was, to avoid the ugliness, but decided I wanted to see Lainy for myself, to look her in the eye, to see if she turned away, so I drove back to Belle Vista, arriving just as a patrol car pulled up, its siren blaring, its lights spinning.
Officer Meade flipped a switch, and the sirens stopped, the abrupt quiet startling. She stepped out, said something into her collar mic, and jogged up the walkway. Ellis arrived as I was getting out of my car. I didn’t wait. I ran into the building.
I heard Lainy before I saw her. “No!” she shrieked. “No, no, no.” Her voice was piercing, her panic palpable. “No, no, no … stop!”
Lainy, her hands cuffed behind her back, tried to wriggle away from Detective Brownley. Officer Meade clutched Lainy’s right arm, with Detective Brownley gripping the left one. Lainy continued to struggle, to screech, her voice growing shriller with each word.
“No! Stop! No, no, no!”
I stopped ten paces into the lobby and pressed my back against the wall, watching in horror.
“No! Stop it! It’s a mistake! Stop!”
Ellis raced inside and took charge. He stepped directly in front of Lainy and held up his hands chin high, palms toward her, pumping air, gesturing that she was to stop, to pause, to listen, to breathe. “Ms. Baglio, you need to stop resisting. Do you understand?”
“I didn’t do anything! Let me go!”
“We can talk about this at the station, but right now, you need to accompany the detective and officer outside.”
“No, no, no!” she screamed, working herself into a hysterical dither.
“Stop!” Ellis boomed.
Lainy froze, petrified, her chest heaving.
“I understand you’re upset, but you need to cooperate with us. You’re under arrest for burglary. You’ll have an opportunity to tell us your side of the story. No one is trying to railroad you. All we want is the truth. The first thing that has to happen, though, is that we transport you to the police station. If you resist again, we’ll have to add that charge. Do you understand?”
Lainy nodded and walked forward, slowly, her tears flowing.
When she reached me, she looked straight at me. “I’m sorry.”
She took another step, then paused again and looked back at Ellis. “Please,” she whispered, “don’t tell my father.”
* * *
Max was at a table by the fireplace. Instead of wood, there was a nice arrangement of white pillar candles, unlit in the still-sunny late afternoon.
“Lainy won’t be joining us,” I said, plunking down on a chair across from him.
“Trouble in paradise?”
“There was never any paradise, only trouble. I just witnessed her arrest.”
Max leaned back, his eyes locked on mine while I described what I’d seen and what I knew.
He shook his head. “Proving once again that you can’t judge by appearances or first impressions.”
Max waved the waitress over and ordered a Macallan single malt neat. I asked for club soda with lime.
When the drinks arrived, Max said, “Are you flipping out?”
“A little. I can’t believe Lainy attacked me. I mean, I know she didn’t intend to hurt me, she just wanted to escape, but still…” I shook it off. “Did you speak to Maudie?”
“Yes, we’re meeting at her hotel in the morning. My first impression was positive. Will I be disappointed?”
“It was Malcolm Gladwell who said, ‘We don’t know where our first impressions come from or precisely what they mean, so we don’t always appreciate their fragility.’ I like Maudie a lot. You’re not the only one who hopes a first impression sticks.”
* * *
The Austin Arms was the most luxurious hotel in Rocky Point, old-style in decor and service. There were murals of clouds and cherubs and angels painted in muted colors on the ceiling, and gilt everywhere, from the crown moldings to the picture frames. The building and grounds sprawled over seven acres at one end of Rocky Point’s village green, within easy walking distance of shops and restaurants.
Maudie met me in the lobby and led the way to a small alcove. We sat on club chairs near a window facing the back garden. A waiter took our order for tea.
“I just heard about Lainy,” she said. “On the news.”
“I’m still stunned.”
“Did she kill Celia?”
“I don’t think so. I think she was after the presentation box. Tom described it to her.”
She turned toward the window for a moment, then looked back at me. “I spoke to Stacy and Doug from San Francisco. Neither call went well.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I should have been better prepared.”
“You had no way of knowing what was going on with them.”
“That’s true,” she said. “And I don’t know why I’m surprised. Stacy was as acerbic as always, acting as if Celia’s death was one of a dozen tragedies designed specifically to overset her plans. Doug was angry. I ask
ed if he’d like me to stay with him for a few weeks, to help with childcare and the house. He said no.”
“Stacy is Stacy, and I don’t think Doug knows which way is up. He’s overwhelmed.”
“I suppose.”
“You said you wanted to talk to a friend.” I patted her hand. “How can I help, Maudie?”
“You’ve helped me so much, Josie, more than you know, more than you can imagine.” Her expression softened. “I don’t need anything in particular. Just a friendly voice, a bit of kindness.”
“That I can do.”
“People never know what to say in times of tragedy,” she said, echoing the thought I’d had on Tuesday, the thought that had led to our locating her in San Francisco, “so they don’t say anything, or they only speak in platitudes. I’ve found that it’s better to talk about what’s bothering you, no matter how hard it is; that it’s not talking about things that leads to problems.”
A waiter slid a gilt-edged tray onto the table between us. He poured two inches of a dark mahogany brew into bone china cups, topped it off with steaming hot water, and left. I stirred in a teaspoon of sugar and a dollop of milk. Maudie squeezed a piece of lemon into hers.
I left the tea to cool. “How are you doing for real?”
“I don’t know how to describe it. Sad, but more than that. Alone. Celia and I had issues, but she had a genuinely good heart. She was a loving wife and mother. Perhaps I should have done more for her. Perhaps the fact that I didn’t led to her death.” She reached for her cup, then pulled her hand back. “It’s hot.” She made an effort to smile. “I know I’m not responsible for Celia’s death, any more than I’m responsible for Stacy’s business failing, but I certainly understand why people who win the lottery give blank checks to the flood of long-lost relatives who come begging. It’s easier to bear than the guilt.”
“Doug said you helped them out before.”
“When Eli died, I gave Celia and Stacy fifty thousand dollars each, telling them it was from him. When Stacy told me her business idea, I felt so proud of her. It takes real courage to start a business. She asked me to invest, and I said I wouldn’t, that I wasn’t comfortable investing, but I gave her twenty-five thousand dollars as seed money. That’s what I called it: seed money. To be fair, I gave the same amount to Celia, encouraging her to invest in herself somehow, just as Stacy was doing. A few months ago, just after I moved in to Belle Vista, Stacy asked for a loan.”
“You said no.”
“That’s right.”
“Why?”
“I’m very conservative with my investments. Eli inherited a nice amount of money from his family, and he did very well in his career. I have been blessed. I feel no need to earn big returns. I feel the need to not lose my principal. Except for those gifts, I have never dipped into it.”
“How did Stacy handle your refusal?”
Maudie touched the cup with a fingertip, testing the temperature, and decided it was still too hot. “Stacy used it as evidence that my alleged dementia was worsening. Doug and Celia asked for money at about that same time, and when I said no to them, too, Celia jumped on Stacy’s bandwagon, implying that I wasn’t dealing from a full deck. The two of them hovered over me, looking as if they expected me to start babbling or drooling any minute. Their apparent concern got me wondering if they were right.” Maudie turned her face aside. “A month after I moved into Belle Vista, I went to a neurologist. Turns out, I’m fine. He put me through a battery of tests at my request, and I passed them all. I joke about losing my memory and so on because I got tired of arguing about my mental acuity with my nieces. They eased up once I stopped arguing. I never did sign the power of attorney form, though, and that rankled.”
“Oh, Maudie, that’s awful. I mean, it’s wonderful you’re healthy, but it’s awful you had to go through such a thing.”
“I agree. I spent a lot of my time in San Francisco thinking about what I should do about their nagging, what might happen if I sell the presentation box and cat for a bundle, how I’d handle their renewed requests. I decided to stick to my guns. I don’t owe anyone anything. I’ve done my best to help them, but enough is enough. And their efforts to make me doubt myself, well … it was cruel.”
I blinked away a tear. Poor Maudie.
She tested the tea again. It passed muster, and she drank some. “However, I’m a fan of education. Just as Eli and I paid for Celia and Stacy’s education, I called my lawyer, that family lawyer I mentioned, and asked her to establish a trust to cover all of Celia and Doug’s children’s educational expenses. And Stacy’s kids, if she ever has any, and Doug’s, if he wants to go back to school himself.”
“That’s wonderful of you, Maudie.”
“I hope it helps. I don’t believe in handouts, but I do believe in rewarding initiative, and I certainly believe in second chances.”
“I do, too. People learn from their mistakes—if they want to. Not to imply that Doug made a mistake. Lots of people just need a break. And I believe in giving it to them, if I can.”
“Those breaks often cost money.”
“Almost always,” I said. “It’s amazing you’re including Doug in your offer. His hands aren’t completely clean when it comes to stealing the presentation box.”
“I’ve known Doug for years. I think he’s essentially a good man who was simply pushed to the limit. Once again, it comes back to second chances. He’s all those kids have now. I emailed him that I’d cover his tuition and all expenses, including childcare, household expenses, everything, while he’s in school. He’s always been good with numbers, so maybe accounting would be a good choice.” She placed her cup on the saucer, and it rattled. “If I’d made this offer before Celia died, maybe she’d still be alive.”
“Don’t do that, Maudie. You can’t know what someone might have done. Celia might have been grateful at first, then decided she needed more, and found herself in the same situation—trying to steal from you, and ending up confronting someone else who was trying to steal from you. You can’t second-guess decisions, not based on speculation.”
“You’re right. It’s just my guilt talking. I tell myself to focus on the positive and on the future, but it’s hard.”
“I know.” I drank some tea. “Tell me something about Celia. What’s your best memory?”
“Banana bread. She made the best, most succulent banana bread, and she kept me supplied with it. She made those little loaves and brought one over, oh, I don’t know, once a month or so. I’d cut it up and freeze it.”
“So thoughtful!”
“Yes, she was thoughtful. I loved her, which was often challenging. Celia didn’t handle life’s difficulties easily or well. She was very needy. Her best quality, I think, was her ability as a mother—she cherished her children. They’ll have the memories of her love to buoy them forever.”
“And Stacy? What’s her best quality?”
Maudie smiled. “I care about Stacy, too, but the truth is that she’s always been hard to love. She lives in a state of perpetual disappointment. She has a chip on her shoulder the size of Montana, and she doesn’t handle setbacks gracefully. I also … and this is a terrible thing to say about your own niece … I think she’s manipulative. Stacy is so self-absorbed, I suspect she thinks I don’t notice the superficial nature of her affection.”
“You’re saying she’s just after money.”
“Yes, I guess I am. I’ve given her every opportunity to be friends, but she always circles back to business. Oh, well … I’ve done the best I can, and that’s all I can do.”
Maudie drank some tea as she surveyed the lobby. It was quiet. Everything was clean, pristine. An older couple sat nearby, their conversation hushed.
She lowered her cup to the saucer. “I like it here. I’m not sorry I had to leave Belle Vista. I shouldn’t have agreed to move in.”
“Where do you think you’ll go permanently?”
“I may try to negotiate a monthly rent here. It’s not likel
y to be higher than Belle Vista.”
“What about that condo on the beach?”
“Yes, that’s worth considering, too.” She turned back toward me. “I spoke to that lawyer you recommended, Max Bixby. He sounded assured and knowledgeable. He’s coming here for breakfast at seven thirty.”
“Because you want to look him in the eye before retaining him.”
She smiled. “Wouldn’t you?”
I smiled back. “Yes.”
“I have another favor, but I’m hesitating to ask you.”
Joyous shrieks sounded outside the window. Two boys, about nine or ten, ran by, carrying badminton racquets, their laughter contagious.
I laughed. “When I was a kid, I was killer at badminton.”
“Me, too.”
“Oh-ho! I sense a challenge about to be issued.”
“I haven’t played in decades.”
“You’re either managing expectations or setting me up as a mark.”
She smiled. “You’ll just have to find out for yourself, won’t you?”
“Name the date. In the meantime, what’s the favor? I appreciate your hesitation and promise I’ll say no if I can’t do it.”
“Chief Hunter said that the first thing he wants to do is take me to Belle Vista so I can see if anything besides the presentation box and cat and my checkbook were stolen. I’m certain I’ll notice myself if anything is missing, but if that police chief starts asking me questions … I’m being silly, I know … but … I’d appreciate a second set of eyes. You were just there, so your memory is fresh. I know it’s a lot to ask, but will you come?”
“Yes. I don’t think you’re being silly—four eyes are always better than two. I’m glad to help you.”
“Thank you. That’s such a relief … something I don’t have to fret about.”
“I’m glad. It’s funny, isn’t it, how little things can mess with your head in a way big things don’t. I guess because we expect big things to be problematic. In any event … if you’re up for it, I’d like to ask you a couple of questions, but I don’t want to upset you.”
“Fire away. I’m glad to talk. It’s good to talk.”
Hidden Treasure Page 25