Death of the Family Recipe (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 3) (45 page)

I scowled at the panties. "The sales lady told us about a former model who had so much stretched-out tummy skin after delivery that she had plastic surgery."

Ted pulled on socks, and then slipped into a pair of tasseled loafers. "I guess we’ll add that to the budget then."

I threw a handful of ugly panties at him. "Hey."

He laughed. "You started it."

I bent to pick up the panties scattered on the floor. "Where are you going for dinner?"

He pulled on his jacket and smoothed it down. "Clancy’s."

Having collected all the panties I stood. "Oh good, bring home some clam chowder and an order of crab cakes."

Ted bent his head to my belly. "Careful kids, Daddy won’t like it if you make Mommy fat." I smacked him in the head with a pair of ugly panties. He laughed and kissed me. "I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Try to stay out of trouble while I’m gone."

I nudged him toward the door. "Go, do your wheeling and dealing. And don’t forget my food."

He gave me a big smacking kiss on the mouth and left. His footsteps hurried down the stairs, the door opened and closed and the deadbolt turned. From the bedroom window I watched him back out of the driveway. Then I stuffed the big girl panties into a drawer and went downstairs.

The house was quiet when Ted was gone, and it made wish he hadn’t left. The sound of a revving car engine drew me to the window to look, but by then the car was speeding away. Boomer yapped and made me jump. "Yeah, I heard it too."

I hadn’t told Ted about seeing Kathy Morrissey at the mall, or Ingrid’s crank instant messages. Maybe Ingrid would knock off the crap now that she was busted. I was less certain about Kathy because I didn’t know her end game. Or even if she had an end game. The mixed signals drove me a little nuts. She answered my questions about Rose, yet didn’t seem happy or relieved to see me. She claimed she had no mementos of Rose then passed on a photo album filled with pictures of her. And though she spoke fondly of Rory, she failed to mention she knew where he was. Had Zelda been right about Kathy moving Rory’s body to keep him all to herself? Or was there a logical reason that escaped me? Even if she had, could I blame her for loving my father for thirty years? Love made people do strange things. And Kathy was definitely strange.

I went into my office and got her number then called her. "Hi Kathy, it’s Scotti Fitzgerald. How are you?"

"I’m okay."

"I just called to thank you for the photo album. That was very thoughtful of you."

She blew out a drag from her cigarette. "Sure. You’re welcome."

"Hey, I was at the Glendale Mall today and I thought I saw you. Were you shopping there today?"

She blew out another drag. "Nope. Been home all day."

I forced a laugh. "Wow, then you have a double walking around Glendale." No response. "Okay then, well thanks again."

"You’re welcome again."

She hung up on me, and I stared at the phone. Then I punched in Jennifer’s number. "Hi, it’s Scotti."

Her voice was flat like she was talking to a stranger. "Hello dear."

"I wanted to drop by to see you tomorrow. Will you be home?" Her silence lasted so long I thought my phone dropped the call. "Jennifer?"

"Just a moment dear." She covered the phone, but I heard muffled voices. "Yes, that would be fine."

"About one o’clock?"

"See you then. Goodbye."

Then Jennifer hung up on me. "Nobody wants to talk to me today."

I put aside the phone to start my paperwork, then realized Eric had my computer. I texted him, but he was still working on it, and I’d have it wait until the next day. I was too tired to bake, so I plopped in front of the TV and flipped channels aimlessly. When Ted came home, the scent of clam chowder and crab cakes drew me into the kitchen. He surrendered the bag with a big grin. "Closed the deal, did you?"

Ted puffed out his chest and strutted around the kitchen. "Uh-huh, I’m the man. And baby, you can buy all the ugly panties you want."

When I got out of the car, Jennifer rushed out of the house and met me on the walkway. I grinned. "Hi Auntie. Happy to see me?" Jennifer took me by the arm and hurried me into the house. When we got inside, she locked the door behind us, then peeked through the window. I frowned at her. "What’s the matter?"

Jennifer shook her head and pointed toward the living room. "I’ve got a pot of tea waiting for us."

I followed her into the living room, and we sat on the sofa. But Jennifer was too agitated to sit still. She continually got up to get something — cheese and crackers, napkins, water, lemon slices. "Jennifer, would you please sit down. I need to talk to you."

Jennifer sat on the sofa, folded her hands in her lap then stared at them. "All right dear, what did you want to say?"

She was tense and verging on tears. And it made me feel sorry for her and guilty about all the crap I’d given her. I took her hand. "Look, you’re my mother’s sister — we’re family. And you don’t have to feel nervous around me. Not anymore. I’m sorry I’ve been such a shit to you, okay? I know we had a rough start, but I do want you in my life, all right?"

Jennifer’s eyes welled. "I want that too."

I squeezed her hand. "But we both know there’s something standing in the way. Don’t we?" I held up my hand so she wouldn’t interrupt me. "And it’s not Rose’s death." I sighed. "We’re both sad about that and dealing with it in our own ways. And it’s hard for both of us. But there’s something else…something you’re keeping from me."

Jennifer trembled and her tears fell silently. I slid next to her and put my arm around her shoulders. "Jennifer, I can see that you’re scared of something or someone. And I know you’ve been carrying around a lot guilt for a long time. And I haven’t been very understanding." Jennifer brushed her tears then looked away. I squeezed her shoulders. "But I can also see that you want to tell me whatever it is — that you need to tell me. So I’m asking you not to shut me out. Rose wouldn’t want that, and I don’t want that either."

She nodded. "I know."

"It’s about Kathy, isn’t it?"

Jennifer flinched, and her dark eyes widened. "Why do you say that?"

I shook my head and threw up my hands. "Where do I start? Rory’s grave. The way she scares you." I pointed a finger at her. "And don’t deny that. I saw it. She says she has nothing of Rose’s, then she passes an album to me?" I tapped my temple. "There’s something not right with her." I looked into Jennifer’s eyes for confirmation but didn’t get any. "Yesterday she followed me all day. And when I called and asked her about it, she lied. Do you know why she’s following me? Is it because you told her about our conversations? Is that why she’s harassing you? Because she doesn’t want me nosing around in things?"

Jennifer exhaled sharply, then stood and took my hand. "I have to show you something."

"Where are we going?"

Jennifer gritted her teeth. "Where it all started."

<<>>

When Jennifer parked in front of the little brick church at Prescott and Fitzgerald, my heart stuttered against my chest. Shaded by sycamores and edged with a neatly clipped lawn, the old church seemed almost friendly. But not to me. "How could you bring me here?"

Jennifer looked sharply at me. "You know what this place is?"

I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry, and I rasped. "Yes. It’s the last place in the world I want to be."

Jennifer got out of the car, but I couldn’t move. She came to my door and held out her hand. "Please, Scotti." I shuddered and shook my head. "It’s important."

Trembling like a kitten, I got out of the car then stared at the church. "I don’t think I can go in there."

Jennifer put her arm around my shoulder and said, "I know this is hard, and I’m sorry. But please try." Gently, she led me inside where it was cool and quiet. She dipped her fingers in a bowl of holy water, crossed herself and genuflected. I never got any religion in my life, so ignored the ritual and hung back as she walked down the aisle toward the altar. She stopped at the third pew and pointed. "This is the spot."

When I was a kid, there was a feeling I got when I went to a new foster home; a combination of trembling fear and morbid curiosity about what fresh hell I’d be served up there. That’s how I felt standing in that church. I backed up a couple of steps. "Spot for what? What do you mean?"

"Where you were found." She smiled sadly at me. "It wasn’t actually Father Fran who found you. No, it was a young seminary student named Curtis Severied." She shrugged. "I suppose that’s a bit of trivia that you don’t care about."

I took a couple steps toward her. "Yes, I know about him. I talked to him. He told me about a young couple in the church when he found me. Braun or Brandt." I looked at her. "Did you know them?"

Jennifer furrowed her brow, thinking. "I might’ve met them once or twice. Why? What have they to do with anything?"

I inched closer to the pew and shrugged. "I thought maybe they were the people who were supposed to adopt me." I sighed. "But changed their minds."

Jennifer gasped. "You know about the adoptions?"

I nodded. "Yes, I finally got Detective Marley to tell me." I scowled at her. "That’s why you were so surprised that I wasn’t adopted, isn’t it?" She said nothing but nodded. Cold and scared, I hugged myself. "Is that why you brought me here? To tell me about the adoptions?"

Jennifer frowned. "I don’t know why I brought you here. Maybe because I thought if you saw it, you wouldn’t be afraid of it anymore." Her shoulders slumped. "Or maybe I needed to show myself that."

I took a couple steps toward her. "Why would you be afraid of it?"

She smiled sadly. "This old church is a part of our family." She pointed to the altar. "My parents, your grandparents were married here. Right at that altar." She smirked. "By Father Fran." I stopped and stared at her, unable to speak. She nodded. "Oh yes. And your mother and I were baptized here — by Father Fran." A tear rolled down her cheek. "Just as you were going to be…"

I held up my hands. "Wait. Stop." I glared at her. "How do you know?"

Jennifer tilted her head. "I just said this church was part of our family history."

I moved toward her. "No, not that. How do you know where I was found? Where they left me?" Jennifer sputtered but couldn’t get the words out. I advanced toward her shaking my fist. "You stole me from Rose — and Kathy helped you? And that’s the big secret, right?" The sight of her made me sick. "So you brought me here because you thought — what? That I’d forgive you because our family has history with this church? The family you cut me out of?"

Jennifer wept quietly. "I only tried to do the right thing. For Rose. For you. I thought…"

I shook my fists at her. "What? That Rose keeping her baby was up to you to decide?" I pointed a finger at her. "That’s what this is all about. Kathy threatened you, so you wouldn’t tell me. But you couldn’t live with your guilty conscience?"

Jennifer walked toward me. "No, you don’t understand."

I backed up the aisle. "Understand? You think I could understand this? What you did? You’re insane." The thought that we shared the same blood made me want to cut open my veins and empty them. "How could you do that?" I clutched my chest. "And Rose found out, didn’t she?" My whole body shook with rage and sadness. "She confronted you. You shoved her. She hit her head." I pointed at her. "You killed Rose, and Kathy covered it up for you." I backed away from her, reeling with nausea. "You stole me, and you murdered my mother."

Jennifer gasped and moaned. "I didn’t kill Rose. I couldn’t kill my own sister. I’d never…" She followed me as I backed toward the door. "Scotti, please listen…"

I held up my hands and kept backing away. "You stay away from me. You think I believe you? That you couldn’t kill Rose when your stole her baby to give it to strangers?"

Jennifer caught up with me and grabbed my arm. "No, no, no!" She clutched my arm and her terrified eyes beseeched me. "You don’t understand. No, it wasn’t me!" She pulled me into her arms and held me tightly. "No, it wasn’t me, sweet child. I promise you. I swear on everything that is holy, I did not do that to you or to Rose."

Confused, I fell against her, drawing in ragged sobbing breaths. For a moment, I let her hold me, and I could almost believe it was Rose. Then I pulled away angrily. "Then who was it? Who did this to us, Jennifer?" Jennifer recoiled and turned away. I took her by the arms. "You look at me. You look at me and tell me who did this to our family then."

Jennifer buried her face in her hands and broke down. "I couldn’t stop it. By the time I realized what happened it was too late."

Trembling with anger, I pulled Jennifer’s hands away from her face and screamed, "Tell me! Tell me what you did!"

She flinched. "You’ll hate me." She started to cry again. "I can’t bear the thought…"

She was so scared and pathetic, like a lost child that the anger drained out of me and I let her go. Quietly I said, "No, I won’t hate you. I swear, if you tell me the truth, I’ll stand by you. No matter what you did." She looked up at me, and I nodded. "Say the words, Jennifer. Set us both free."

Jennifer nodded. "Yes, all right." She took a handkerchief from her pocket and daubed her tears. "Rose was always a sensitive girl. Easily hurt. After Rory…she simply fell apart. She was in no condition to be a mother. She couldn’t even care for herself. I worried she’d hurt you. Not intentionally, but I thought she was losing her mind." Jennifer looked at me pleadingly. "You can’t imagine what it did to her. I thought it would kill her." I remained silent and held my breath, afraid that if I spoke, Jennifer would stop talking. "Kathy and I talked about it a lot. How worried we were about Rose. That without the baby — you — she’d have time to heal. To get her life together again."