Midsummer Murder (32 page)

At two o’clock, she began rehearsal. Jeremy was not in the theater.

No one from the main house had made an appearance that day. She hadn’t seen Bill. Biddy had left after lunch to spend the afternoon with Chi-Chi going over last-minute details for the program for Saturday night. Lindy wondered how Chi-Chi could even be functioning with the worry that must be consuming her.

Lindy mechanically made corrections, while she tried to keep one part of her brain focused on discovering anything she had missed 216

Midsummer Murder

concerning Larry’s death. Her thoughts were interrupted by explosions of panic every time she thought about Jeremy and what their first confrontation would be. And whether it would be their last. Would he ever forgive her for stumbling into that hideous scene the night before?

Lindy was surprised when the last piece finished and the rehearsal came to an end. She sat in the house and watched the company file past her.

Kate and Mieko stopped briefly by her seat. “That spacing is much better in the last section. Thanks,” said Kate. Lindy had no idea what she was talking about. She had rehearsed them on automatic pilot.

The stage lights went out, then the house lights. Still she sat.
Hell,
get out there and do something even if it’s wrong,
she thought. And there was a good chance that whatever she might do would be wrong.

Should she try to talk to Ellis? No, better leave that to Bill. So what could she do? She had begun walking up the aisle without realizing it.

The house was completely black, but it didn’t matter. She knew her way around a theater whether she could see it or not.

“Lindy.” An urgent whisper that made her jump. She peered into the darkness looking for the source. She knew it was Jeremy’s voice. He hadn’t wasted any time. At least he had not sent her a note firing her without confronting her. His dark shadow gradually came into view.

“Are you busy?”

She shook her head, then realizing he might not be able to see the movement, said, “No.”

The shadow rose from the row of seats. “Let’s go for a drink— away from here.”

They drove in silence, the white Land Rover that belonged to the family taking the curves of the road with ease. Its occupants felt anything but ease.

They passed through the gates onto the county road, passed the turnoff that would lead them into town, and took the entrance to the state highway. Several exits later, Jeremy turned onto an offramp. A cluster of the usual freeway hotels sat by the access road. Jeremy pulled into the parking lot of one of the larger ones and shut off the engine. Without looking at her, he got out of the car and slammed the door. She was opening her own door when it was pulled out of her hand, and Jeremy was helping her out. She was afraid to look at him.

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With her eyes on the ground, she followed him into the bar, sat across from him at a corner booth, and listened while he ordered her a white wine and himself a gin and tonic. A summer drink, she noted distractedly. She didn’t think her stomach could handle the wine, but when it was placed before her, she took a swallow, and felt herself begin to relax.

Then she looked up at him and immediately wished she hadn’t. She looked away.

“Lindy.”

“Jeremy.”

Their words came out at the same time. They both stopped. Then Jeremy said in a voice husky with barely controlled emotion. “It’s my fault.”

Without a thought, Lindy was out of her side of the booth and sitting next to him, her arm around him. She didn’t care if he liked it or not. “It was Ellis’s fault. He was the adult. You were a child.”

Jeremy shook his head. “It wasn’t like that.”

She had been here before. Pressing Jeremy to talk about his past.

Watching impotently while he wrestled with the ghosts that peopled his life. She wished he would just clean house once and for all. How many bizarre things had happened to this man in his forty-something years?

“Ellis was warm, and loving, and . . . gentle.”

“I can imagine,” she said, but she tried not to.

“And it made me feel special, a delicious secret that only the two of us shared. I think he did love me.”

“And do you think he loved Larry Cleveland, too?”

A quick jerk of a shrug. “I guess. Ellis was different when he was younger. Maybe not the brightest person in the world, but he was so imaginative; we’d—he’d tell me stories about his travels, find wonder in every little thing he saw. He came here in the summers just to make Marguerite happy. But he was happiest, he said, just out discovering the world. He said he would take me with him. Then before I knew it, the summer was over. When I came back the following year, I had a girlfriend, and he never touched me or made any kind of advances again.” He stopped long enough to take a slow controlled breath. “But he was always there for me. We’d still talk about our dreams like two old friends.”

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He lifted his glass and held it to his lips without drinking. Then he drained half of it, returned it to the table, and pushed the glass away out of reach. “Not the answer,” he said.

“No,” she agreed.

“You should have known him before. Back then, he humored Marguerite because she was his only living sister. He loved her, of course; everyone loved Marguerite. It was impossible not to. But he’s turned into a kind of lap dog, hasn’t he?”

Lindy had to admit that lap dog was an appropriate description.

Attentive, loving, but distinctly ineffectual. Even Stu had to prep him on what to say to the reporters. Would a man like that be capable of killing? And if he were, could he carry on with his life as though nothing had happened?

“Do you really think a man like Ellis could lure a strong, streetwise kid like Larry Cleveland out onto a precipice and throw him over the side?” It sounded absurd even before she had finished the statement.

His head lowered. He reached one hand to hers that still lay across his shoulder and clung to it. For all the times she had wished Jeremy would accept someone’s support, she now wanted to free herself of the responsibility it demanded. She tightened her fingers around his.

She held her breath, wondering what the next step would be. Then he laid his cheek briefly on their hands.

It only lasted a second, but she felt that she had just witnessed an unprecedented act of acceptance.

“I was just so angry. I let my emotions get the better of me and instead of protecting Marguerite, I—” He broke off. Lindy watched him relive that moment of discovery as she relived her own part in it.

“Marguerite doesn’t need protecting,” said Lindy . “If I’m sure of anything, I’m sure of that. I think she’s the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

She said it more forcefully than she had intended. Jeremy looked startled. “I’m hardly ever sure of myself,” he said.

“Most of us aren’t. It’s the human condition.” She gently cuffed the side of his jaw and removed her arm from his shoulders. “And that’s something we can both be sure of.”

“So what are we going to do?”

It was still “we.” First with Bill and now with Jeremy. Two for two.

She felt a glimmer of hope.

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“I was supposed to let Bill handle it,” he said. “But I lost my temper. Now, I’ve messed up his game plan.”

“Don’t worry about Bill. He’s a man who can think on his feet.”

“I wish we had never come.”

“I don’t believe that. Would you want Marguerite to face this alone?” She didn’t add that Marguerite had been there for him when he was facing his own demons.

He shook his head. “She must hate me.”

“If I’ve learned anything about Marguerite in the last few days, it’s that she is probably castigating herself for letting you be seduced by Ellis. I think you should talk to her.”

“I can’t face her.”

“Yes, you can.”

* * *

“God, I’m dense,” said Lindy. “Look.”

She pointed to the car in the space next to them. A new, black four-wheel-drive.

“There must be a hundred of those around here. They seem to be the transportation of choice these days.”

“I know,” said Lindy, catching a glimpse of a Donald duck inner tube in the back seat. “Let’s just take a look through the parking lot, anyway.”

Jeremy drove along the parking lot while Lindy jotted down the license numbers of two black Jeeps. They tried the next motel. None at all, but it was near dinnertime; not too many people had returned for the day.

The rain stopped as suddenly as it had started. They entered the third lot just in time to see three men get into a black Explorer. New and shiny except for the splashes of mud on the fender. Lindy wrote down the tag number.

They drove past. The Explorer backed up and drove out of the parking lot. Jeremy swerved the car around. Lindy grabbed the armrest.

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“I’ve seen that guy. The one getting into the back seat,” said Jeremy.

“He probably lives around here.”

“Did you get a look at him? He’s definitely a city boy. I saw him talking to Byron the day I took Chi-Chi in to see Robert.”

“In that case, Poncho, follow that car.”

Jeremy followed at a discreet distance, if there was such a thing. The Explorer exited the highway, headed in the direction of town and subsequently the Easton property. They were the only two vehicles on the road. White car following black. Like Hopalong Cassidy, thought Lindy and wondered if they were on a fool’s errand.

They had passed the turnoff to town when the Explorer turned abruptly into the woods. Jeremy slowed down, then followed it. A PRIVATE PROPERTY sign was posted to a tree by the side of the road.

“Guess who owns this,” said Jeremy without taking his eyes off the rutted road.

“The Eastons?”

Jeremy nodded. He sped up. The Land Rover hit a bump. Lindy bit her tongue.

There was a glimpse of black in front of them.

“This is a surveillance, not a chase, Jeremy. We don’t want them to know we’re following them.”

Jeremy braked, then continued on at a slower pace. Suddenly they were out of the woods driving along grass-covered meadows. In front of them, pulled onto a lookout was the black Explorer. All three men stood by the hood of the car.

“Car trouble?” asked Lindy.

Jeremy began to reverse the car back into the woods. He pulled it alongside the road and shut off the engine. He motioned for her to follow. They crept along the edge of the woods until they had a clear view of the men and car. The men were now looking out over the valley below them. One turned back to the car. Lindy watched him unroll the white tube that rested on the hood and spread a huge sheet of paper across it.

“A map?” whispered Lindy.

“Yes, damn it.”

At that moment the rain reappeared, drenching Lindy and Jeremy and pelting the men and the paper. One of them hastily rolled it up.

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Then the three of them jumped back into the car. Without a word, Jeremy and Lindy ran back to the Land Rover. There was no sound of another engine.

“Do you think they’ll wait it out?” asked Lindy. A crack of lightning answered her, followed by a rumbling that seemed to fill the air.

“What should we do?”

“Get the hell out of here, and figure out what’s going on.” Jeremy was already backing the Land Rover into the road. He turned sharply to the right. The left side of the car dipped as the wheels sank into the soft leaves and mud on the side. Jeremy shifted into second.

The wheels gained purchase and the Land Rover shot back onto the hard dirt of the road.

They were almost to the paved road when Jeremy slammed on the brakes. Rocks and dirt sputtered outward as the Land Rover lurched to a stop. Ahead of them, a log stretched across the width of the road.

“Shit.” Jeremy pulled on the emergency brake and got out of the car.

Lindy followed him, keeping one eye on the way they had come in case they were overtaken by the black Explorer.

Jeremy began dragging the log out of the way. Lindy leaned down to help him just as a metallic ping rent the air. Then another. And another. She looked up in time to see Jeremy throw himself toward her. She hit the ground with a thud, smothered by the weight of his body across hers.

Her first thought was that he was dead. Then he lifted his head.

His eyes were round and glazed. “Shit,” he said.

“No shit,” she replied. He rolled off her and dragged her back to the Land Rover, crouching along the passenger side and opening the door without standing up. He pushed her into the front seat, then climbed past her. The driver’s window was gone. Pellets of glass lay in a pile along the frame and spread across the seat.

Jeremy swept them away with his forearm and hunched down behind the wheel. The engine roared up; they sped out of the woods and onto the county road.

The rain was coming down in thick sheets. Even with the windshield wipers on high the windshield was coated in water.

Rain sliced diagonally across Lindy’s window. She could see nothing.

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She looked out the back window, resting her chin on the top of the front seat. It was impossible to tell if someone was following them.

There was no sight but a curtain of rain, no sound but the barrage of drops on the roof, and the feel of the stinging spray that assaulted them through the shattered window.

Lindy didn’t know how Jeremy got them back to the Easton retreat. She barely could make out the wrought-iron letters as they passed underneath the entrance to the camp. Jeremy pulled into the garage at the back of the house and told the mechanic on duty to find Bill.

“And some towels,” yelled Lindy after the man who rushed wild-eyed away.

She and Jeremy stood quietly dripping at each other for a few minutes. Then she became aware of a towel being draped around her neck. Jeremy’s face disappearing behind a cloud of white terry cloth.