A Murderer Among Us (17 page)

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Authors: Marilyn Levinson

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BOOK: A Murderer Among Us
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She tried to imagine George Linnett running down Claire, but the image simply refused to take shape in her brain. Besides, George couldn’t have killed Doris. He was conducting the meeting when she died.

“Anyone else?”

“Andrew Varig lost some. John Trevor a bit more.”

“Steve’s uncle? He’s not on the list.”

“Really? I haven’t seen him for some time, which is probably why it slipped my mind.”

“Was he angry over the loss?”

Marshall let out a humorless laugh. “Furious. He had the nerve to come here and let me know it. The guy has more money than Trump, and keeps it safely invested in long-term annuities and bonds. He felt like letting loose and playing the volatile end of the market with a tiny fraction of his assets. He took a risk and lost.”

“Did he threaten you?”

He threw her a condescending look. “My dear, I closed my ears and showed him the door.”

The list presented possibilities, Lydia thought, but most of the residents named had been in the meeting room at the time of Doris’s death or out of state. Unless her death had been an accident and had nothing to do with Claire’s murder.

“Who on this list has reason to hate you?”

“Let’s see.” Marshall reached across the desk for the sheet of paper. He seemed to be studying it, but Lydia got the feeling he was buying time.

“I often butt heads with Roger, our treasurer, because nothing he does is cost effective. And Andrew Varig rues the day he ever told me about Twin Lakes.” He looked up at her. “The man despises me, all right.”

Yes, he did. “Anyone else?” Lydia prodded.

Marshall shook his head. “No one comes to mind, though it’s safe to say except for Viv, Peg, and Sally and Bob Marcus, the others would be delighted if I left and never returned. Of course that will reverse itself once we prove my innocence.”

Lydia admired his aplomb. It couldn’t be easy going from popular community bigwig to outcast. She folded the list in half.

“I get the picture. I’ll find out all I can about these people as discreetly as possible, and if I learn anything suspicious I’ll call Detective Molina and let him take it from there.” She smiled. “This way no one can accuse either of us of pointing a finger.”

Marshall took her hand between both of his. “Lydia, I appreciate what you’re doing. Thanks for believing in me.”

Lydia jerked her hand free and made a beeline for the front door. She would never like or respect this man. “I want to see the murderer caught, too. How much I’ll accomplish remains to be seen.”

“You’re a clever woman. I have faith in your success.” He stopped beside her in the small entranceway. “Shall I drive you home?”

“No, I’ll walk.”

“In that case, good-bye and good luck. You are a treasure.”

He opened the door. As she turned to say good-bye, the kiss she believed he’d intended for her cheek landed on her lips. Startled, she drew back and collided with the outer glass door. She unlatched it and stepped outside.

“I’ll call when I’ve something to report.”

“I look forward to hearing from you.”

Lydia kept up brisk pace as she headed for home.
Old lecher,
she thought heatedly. Trying to romance me as his next rich wife! Though he had seemed honestly appreciative of her help.

What was he really after? she wondered as she walked past the woods and peered up at the house that would soon be torn down. She chuckled when she realized he was after both. Marshall Weill was the type of man who thrived on challenges and taking risks. She was a woman who had dealt with all sorts of men in her business life. Forearmed with this knowledge, she promised herself to keep him in his place the next time they met.

Thirteen

Sunday morning Lydia showered and dressed on automatic as she practiced opening sentences for her discussion with Meredith. She had to persuade her daughter to end her relationship with Steve Thiergard, and the trick was to do it so that Merry didn’t flare up and shut down. Lydia put on her jacket and gathered up her keys and pocketbook. Reggie approached, rubbed against her legs and meowed. She reached down to pet him.

“Thanks for your support, old pal. I’ll need it.”

She drove slowly toward her daughter’s house, dreading the confrontation before her. Meredith had to promise to stop seeing this man. Not only for the sake of her husband and children, but because Steve was a money-grubbing extortionist who took advantage of older women desperate enough to buy his untested miracle drug. Only then could Lydia set out with a clear mind to investigate the two murders.

Her heart thudded against her chest as she pulled into the driveway. She honked the horn instead of going inside. Seeing the children now would only complicate the issue looming in her mind.

Two minutes passed and Lydia honked again. Where was that girl! Jeff came to the door with Brittany snuggled under his arm. They both waved to her.

“Merry will be out in a minute,” Jeff called.

It was more like five minutes later when her daughter opened the passenger door and slipped into the car on a waft of some delicious-smelling perfume. She looked stunning in forest green slacks and a matching turtleneck sweater under her leather jacket.

“Hi, Mom.” She leaned over to kiss Lydia. “This is a great idea. Where are we going?”

Lydia mentioned the restaurant where she’d made reservations for brunch and took pleasure in watching her daughter’s eyes light up.

“Cool! I hear their food is awesome. Jeff and I tried to eat there one Saturday night, but couldn’t get in. You need to call weeks in advance.”

They drove south on Route 97 and chatted about the children. Lydia told Merry about her lunch with Abbie and Todd and their plans to get married and live in England. “We’ll be going to a wedding in January.”

They stopped for a red light. Merry didn’t speak for a moment. Then her beautiful face formed a scowl. “It would have been nice if Abbie told me this herself.”

“It’s all so new, and she’s busy making wedding plans. I’m sure Abbie will be calling you tonight.”

“You always defend her no matter what she does! I can’t believe she didn’t ask you to plan the wedding.”

The light changed, and Lydia turned onto a narrow road that ran parallel to the water.

“I would have liked that,” she admitted, “but Abbie said she didn’t want to put me to any trouble. They planned to get married in a rabbi’s study, then Todd’s cousin offered them their house.”

“Still,” Meredith insisted, “she should have included you in their plans.”

“What I really mind,” Lydia said softly, “is her living all the way off in England. I’m happy for Abbie. Todd seems like a wonderful person and he’s crazy about her. Only everything’s happening so quickly.”

Merry let out a brittle laugh. “The naive little fool. She can’t possibly know what she’s in for.”

“What do you mean?” Lydia asked, her voice rising with concern.

“Nothing specifically. Just that nothing ever turns out as planned.”

Her daughter’s cynicism almost caused Lydia to drive past the restaurant. She swerved and pulled into the parking lot.

“Mom!” Merry complained.

“Sorry.” Lydia parked then turned to her daughter. “Are you saying you and Jeff aren’t getting along?”

Merry shrugged. “We’re not
not
getting along. Just wading through life side by side.” She stepped out of the car and marched ahead, putting an end to the discussion. Lydia sighed and followed after her.

The restaurant’s high ceiling gave it a spacious, airy feeling. Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows facing the Great South Bay.

“Fantastic!” Merry murmured.

“Yes, it is,” Lydia agreed. They followed a smiling young woman to a table with a water view.

“I see you haven’t lost your knack for reserving the choice table,” Merry teased.

“Only the best for my daughter,” Lydia answered.

They leaned back into the well-padded chairs and gazed out in companionable silence. Lydia sighed as the gentle, monotonous motion of the wavelets seemed to brush against her soul, releasing all tension.

“This is so relaxing, I could sit here all day,” Meredith murmured.

“It’s almost like being on an ocean liner. I’ve always wanted to sail on the Queen Mary—all the way to England.”

“Do it, Mom, when you visit Abbie.”

“You’ll come with me,” Lydia said. “In the evening we’ll wear long dresses and dine at least once at the captain’s table.”

“Won’t that be fun!” Merry grinned impishly at Lydia. “When we dock in London, we’ll kidnap Abbie from her love nest and have a night on the town. Imagine that—the three Krause women living it up. We haven’t done that in a long, long time.”

“No, we haven’t,” Lydia agreed. In fact, the only time the three of them had gone out together was the evening of Abbie’s college graduation. Surprisingly, Meredith had drunk too much and was sick during the night.

Lydia was enjoying her daughter’s company and felt a pang of disappointment when their young waitress came over to ask what they’d like to drink and to offer the list of specials. They ordered and the waitress hurried back with their Bloody Marys. Meredith drank deeply from hers.

“It feels decadent, being away from the girls and drinking before noon.”

“Do you miss teaching?” Lydia asked.

Merry shrugged. “A bit. I feel as though my life has been put in dry dock like a winterized boat.” She gave a little laugh. “I’m not sure how it’s going to be once spring comes around.”

Lydia shuddered as a chill snaked down her back. “Every woman’s life changes when she has children. It’s a fearsome responsibility, and you’re often left to cope on your own during the day.”

“Unless you go to work—as you did.”

“Yes.” Lydia met her daughter’s eyes. “You were eight years old and in third grade when I started working in your grandparents’ company. They were running it into the ground. I discovered I had a knack for the business world. I came up with several ideas, and we managed to turn the company around. I liked working there. I was happy to take over the company when they asked me to. Your father was relieved because it meant he could concentrate on his sculpting.” She lowered her voice. “I’m sorry I wasn’t at home when you needed me.”

“I hated when the school day ended and I had to go home to a strange woman, knowing I wouldn’t see you until dinner time.”

“Your father was usually home by six.”

“Watching TV in the den.”

Lydia chortled. “That’s rich! I don’t see you sitting home with Brittany and Greta every afternoon. I know because half the time I’m watching them!”

“Mom, please! Is this why you invited me out for brunch, so you can tell me what a terrible mother I am?”

“Of course not! It’s just that I feel you’re restless and unhappy, and I want to help if I can.”

“Here you are!” their waitress chirped, setting a huge platter of food in front of each of them. While Lydia welcomed the interruption, she suddenly had little appetite to tackle the Belgian waffle topped with strawberries and cream.

Meredith ate in silence. When the waitress asked if everything was all right, she ordered another Bloody Mary. Oh, oh, Lydia worried. Is she turning into an alcoholic or is she upset? When she’d had enough of her shrimp salad, Meredith pushed her plate away.

“I’m not happy playing wife and mother,” she said.

“Playing?” Lydia echoed. “You are a wife and a mother. Your children are small now, but they’ll grow up and become people in their own right.”

“And Jeff?”

“He loves you. I suspect he’ll be there—if you want him to stay.”

Meredith looked away, but Lydia saw the tears in her eyes.

“Don’t you love him anymore?”

“I don’t know. We don’t connect. The only things we have in common are the girls and our house.”

Lydia took a deep breath. It was now or never. She stretched out her hand to cover Merry’s. “I think you should do your best to make it work. For everyone’s sake. Steve Thiergard isn’t the answer.”

Meredith jerked her hand free. “Who said anything about Steve? He’s only a friend!”

“Call him what you like. I think you’ve been seeing him on days I’ve come to watch the girls. I don’t like being used so you can have some excitement in your life.”

The blush started at Merry’s neck and rose to her ears.

“I’m not after excitement. We talk. Steve understands what I’m going through.”

“What exactly are you going through?”

The tears rolled down her cheeks. This time she made no attempt to hide them. “I feel lonely all the time. I love Brittany and Greta, but they always want and need and demand my time and attention.”

And Jeff?”

Meredith’s face hardened with anger. “I know you think he’s perfect, but that’s an act he puts on when you’re around. Jeff feels overwhelmed by everything—the girls, the house, even me. He works more than he has to to avoid us. At home he watches TV or goes on the computer.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Merry nodded. “When I ran into Steve and we got to talking, it was such a relief to laugh and chat like I used to. Like I haven’t in a long time. It only seemed natural for us to get together again.”

“So you did know him in college.”

“Oh, yes. It felt like a gift, running into him like that.”

Some gift, Lydia thought grimly. More like an accident waiting to happen. The waitress took away their dishes. They ordered coffee and apple pie a la mode. When she left, Lydia reached across the table and squeezed Meredith’s arm.

“You always felt things more than most people. But Steve Thiergard isn’t the solution to your problems.”

Merry’s eyes glistened as she spoke. “Maybe he is, Mom. He’s a genuinely sympathetic person. I remember that from when I went out with him in college.”

“You did? I don’t remember your mentioning his name.”

Meredith shrugged. “We only saw each other for about a month. He pulled back because he felt we were getting too serious and he needed his space.” Reading Lydia’s expression, she quickly added, “He’s different now. More mature.”

“Merry, you find him so appealing because you and Jeff are weighted down by responsibilities and the realities of children, home and mortgage payments. You’ve no idea how Steve would react if he had to stay up all night with a feverish child.”

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