Murder Most Persuasive (28 page)

Not sure what she knew yet in regard to Julian, Aunt Winnie said, “Who did what, honey?”

“Who poisoned me?”

“We don’t know what happened,” Aunt Winnie said gently. “We’re trying to figure that out.”

“Then get out,” Bonnie said.

“What?” asked Aunt Winnie.

“You heard me. Get out. Until I know what happened, you can all just stay the hell away from me.” Bonnie jabbed at the call button on her bed. Moments later a harried-looking nurse appeared. Bonnie said, “I want these people out.”

The nurse turned to us, her face apologetic but firm. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“It’s all right. We understand,” replied Aunt Winnie, setting the flowers on a table. “Bonnie, I’m really sorry. I hope you’re feeling better soon.”

Bonnie turned her face toward the wall.

*   *   *

Bonnie was released from the hospital the next day. Upon her return, she kicked Ann and me out of the house and hired a day nurse. Phone calls were not returned.

Ann returned to her house in Bethesda. I went back to the Jungle Room, which I now shared with Aunt Winnie. Having a giraffe with Graves’ disease stare at you while you slept was bad enough, but having to deal with that along with someone who kicked and hogged the covers—I could not tolerate the prospect of being so miserably crowded.

“I don’t know how Randy puts up with you in bed,” I groused as I attempted to pull back my half of the comforter over me the next night.

“I have had no complaints in that department,” Aunt Winnie replied with a mischievous grin. “Ever.”

“Okay, first of all eww, and second of all … eww. My point is, you are impossible to sleep with.”

“Back at you, babe. You snore.”

“I do not!”

“Then you speak to chain saws in your sleep. Call it what you like.”

I rolled over and stared at the hippo. After a moment, I asked, “Do you think Scott did it?”

“No,” Aunt Winnie said promptly. “Now if it was Frances who was sitting in jail charged with both murder and attempted murder and you asked me that, I might have a shadow of doubt. But not with Scott. Violence just isn’t in that boy’s blood.”

“Who do you think did do it, then?”

“I don’t know, honey. I really don’t know. It’s all so confusing. I’m not sure we know the real reason Bonnie was poisoned.”

“Well, considering that Julian was poisoned, too, it would seem that it was because of the planned investment.”

“But you don’t buy that, do you?” she asked.

I thought about it. “No,” I said finally, “I don’t. I think it’s a dodge of sorts. I think we’re meant to think it’s about the money, but I don’t think that’ll turn out to be the real reason.”

“So what is the real reason?”

“I don’t know. I think it all goes back to Michael, though. I just haven’t figured out how yet.”

Aunt Winnie sighed. “Well, let me know when you do. In the meantime, I’m tired and I’m going to sleep.” With a baleful glance at the ceiling, she added, “Besides, that damn giraffe is giving me the creeps.”

*   *   *

Work the next day was a challenge, to say the least. Dickey returned, but rather than summon us all into the conference room, he just summoned me. Then he asked me to shut the door. I thought he was going to fire me. However, rather than experiencing a cold moment of fear at such a thought, my spirits actually soared. If that’s not a sign that it’s time to quit, then I don’t know what is.

“Please have a seat, Ms. Parker,” Dickey said, gesturing to the empty seats around the table.

I slid into the nearest chair to the door and adopted what I hoped was a politely interested expression.

Dickey did not speak but rather tapped his pen on the table. I couldn’t be sure, but I think he was trying to play the percussion portion of “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” by Wham! My politely interested expression began to slip. Finally he said, “Well, Ms. Parker, I suppose you know why I’ve called this meeting.”

“Not really, sir.”

Dickey’s eyebrows shot up in exaggerated surprise. “I find that hard to believe, Ms. Parker. Well,
you
may pretend, but I will not.”

I stared at Dickey with unfeigned astonishment. I felt a bit like Elizabeth when she has it out with Lady Catherine in the side garden.

Dickey continued. “Well, I must say I would have thought that you of all people would be sensitive to the position your family has put our little paper in.”

“My family? What position?”

Dickey snorted at my question. I clearly wasn’t scoring any points with him today. Which, when I really stopped to think about it, was actually a point in my favor. “I am referring to the revolting matter of the arrest of your cousin’s husband. It’s all over the news how he tried to kill his mother-in-law and then went on to kill that other man.” Dickey glared at me as if I were somehow responsible.

“Scott never poisoned anybody,” I replied evenly. “There’s been a terrible mistake.”

“Well, that may be so,” Dickey said with a peevish expression. “But you can appreciate the delicate position it puts our paper in.”

“Excuse me, but I don’t see how it affects anyone but our family.”

Dickey’s mouth pulled into a frown and he slammed his pen onto the table. “If I may say so, that’s a very selfish attitude. We are getting ready to publish the first of our Significant Humans in Town series tomorrow, featuring none other than your great-uncle, and every paper in town is filled with coverage of this scandalous murder investigation featuring your family! I am your boss. I have a right to know about everything that affects this paper!”

I stared at Dickey, dumbfounded. What the hell did he expect me to do about it? “Sir, I don’t think I understand exactly what you want me to do. If it’s a problem, pull the piece.”

“I intend to. However, I will need something to run in its place.” He paused. The shoe dropped. The light dawned. I got it.

“You want me to write a replacement piece?” I asked in astonishment.

“By the end of day, please.”

Sitting there in the conference room, with Dickey in his cheap suit and the faces on his vanity wall smiling down at me, something snapped. I did a quick calculation in my head regarding the contents of my savings account and stood up. “I’ve got a better idea for you,” I said, and then told him.

Dickey sputtered in shock at my rather vulgar suggestion. I, however, felt better than I had in weeks.

“You selfish, horrible girl! How dare you speak to me like that! How dare you quit on me like this! Have you no regard for me or this paper?”

I was so tempted to snap back with, “I am only resolved to act in that manner which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without reference to
you,
or to any person so wholly unconnected with me,” but I didn’t. Dickey wouldn’t get the reference. Instead, I turned without a word and walked out. I quickly stuffed my few belongings from my desk into an empty cardboard box, told Sam I’d call him later, and waved a cheerful good-bye to my former coworkers. Truth be told, I was on top of the world. It was like that scene in
Bridget Jones’s Diary
when she tells Daniel off and quits. With a cheeky grin, I picked up my box and headed for the elevators for the last time.

It wasn’t until I got back to Kit’s house that I realized when I calculated my savings account in my head, I carried a one that didn’t exist.

Moron.

*   *   *

Kit was surprised to see me wander into the kitchen in the middle of the afternoon. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “Are you sick?” Pauly looked up from the table where he was eating a peanut butter and jelly and waved a sticky hello.

I slid into the seat opposite him and said, “No, I’m perfectly fine, actually. I guess you could say I’m no longer one of the working-class drones. I am now a woman of leisure. A lady who lunches—”

“You got fired!” Kit gasped. It would have been better if she hadn’t sounded as if she’d foreseen this day coming for some time.

“No, I quit,” I said with as much dignity as I could muster.

That got her attention. “Quit! In this economy? Are you crazy?”

“Probably. But you’ve no idea what I just went through.” I quickly told her about Dickey and his stupid SHIT and all the rest of it. When I finished, she said, “What an…” Glancing at Pauly, she rethought her words. “Very bad man,” she amended.

“That’s kind of what I thought,” I said.

“Well, don’t you worry about a thing. You can stay here—rent free—until you find another job. And you will find another job, one you’ll like better. I still can’t believe that idiot took you to task for … oh, well, it’s not worth discussing. My point is that you can and you will do better.” She paused. “I know! We’ll treat this like a celebration. I’ll go to the store and get us something nice for dinner and then I’ll rent some silly movie for us all to watch.”

I smiled. “Thanks, Kit, but you don’t have to do all that…”

“Don’t be silly. It’s my pleasure. That’s what family is for. Now, you just go relax. Hit the hot tub or something. Aunt Winnie is out shopping. I’ll take Pauly with me so you can have the house to yourself. How about I invite Peter?”

I got up from my chair and gave her a hug. “Thank you, Kit. This is really nice of you.”

Kit shrugged off my thanks and headed out to the store with Pauly. As I went to my room, I wished she could always be so supportive of people, but Kit is one of those people who shine only when your world is messed up. She revels in playing the role of motherly helper. Mainly because it makes her feel better in comparison. It’s when you’re on top of the world that she gets all snarky.

I called Peter and told him what I’d done. After laughing at the various expressions and suggestions I used in my resignation to Dickey, he, too, offered to house me while I looked for a new job. While I knew that I could never live with Kit for more than two weeks, Peter was another story.

“Are you serious?” I asked. “You really want me to move in while I look for a new job?”

“No, I just want you to move in. Permanently.”

My heart gave a flop. Then a flip.

“Really?”

“Really, really.”

“Can I think about it?”

“Take all the time you want,” Peter said. “Just don’t think I’m doing this because you’re out of a job and might be forced to live in the Jungle Room. Although those are compelling reasons. I’m doing this because I love you and want to be with you. Even if you do snore.”

“I don’t snore.”

“You do. Like a jackhammer. But that’s my point. I don’t mind.”

My next call obviously was to Aunt Winnie, not to talk about my new status as unemployed but about Peter’s offer. “Peter asked me to move in with him,” I said. “What should I do?”

“Why the hell are you asking me?” she replied, laughing. “That’s for you to decide.”

“I know, but I’m confused.”

“Do you love him?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s a start. Only you know what’s right for you, honey.”

I sighed. “You’re right. I need to figure this one out on my own.”

“Damn skippy you do.”

*   *   *

That night Kit outdid herself, making roast beef, scalloped potatoes, and carrots. For dessert she served apple pie with vanilla ice cream. It was times like these when the difference in our lifestyles became all the more apparent. Kit made domesticity look both glamorous and feasible. I thought about Peter’s offer again and wondered if I was ready to settle down and create a home with him. Later, as I helped Kit clean up the kitchen, I told her about Peter wanting me to move in with him.

“What?” she cried, pausing with a dish in hand.

“He wants me to move in,” I repeated.

“You aren’t seriously considering it, are you?”

“Well, actually…”

“You know Mom will freak,” she persisted.

“I doubt that. After all, she’s living with George.”

“But that’s different! She’s older. She’s already been married and had kids.”

I paused. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“You know what they say, don’t you? Why buy the cow if you’re getting the milk for free?”

I stared at her. “You didn’t just really say that, did you? You did! I can’t believe you! Do you really see me as the cow in this scenario?”

Kit sighed. “No. You know what I mean. Well, you’ll do what you want, of course. You always do anyway. But let me just say, you won’t get this time back. I don’t think you realize what you have. You’re free to come and go as you please. You can
do
what you want. You have so much freedom! There are times when I’d give anything to get that freedom back again.”

I stared at her in near shock. “Wait. You think my life is great? I thought you thought I was some colossal screwup.”

Kit laughed. “Well, you
are
a screwup at times, but I don’t think you’re a
colossal
screwup. Don’t get me wrong, I love my life. I love Paul and little Pauly. But sometimes I just wish I could run off and check into a hotel for the weekend.” Kit paused and rubbed her belly. “I guess what I’m saying is, I know you love Peter and he’s a great guy. But think about what you have before you go changing it.”

I was stunned. Here was my perfect sister, the one who constantly tried to run my life, telling me that she envied what I had. Not every day or every minute, of course, but at times. It certainly put a new spin on how I viewed her and our relationship. “Thanks, Kit,” I said finally. “For everything. I really appreciate it.”

She smiled at me before turning back to finish loading the dishwasher. “No problem. Besides, you can’t move in with Peter until you learn how to cook something besides spaghetti.”

*   *   *

After the kitchen was cleaned, we all gathered in the living room where we settled in front of Paul’s fifty-two-inch plasma flat-screen TV to watch
Meet the Parents.

We’d just gotten to the scene where Ben Stiller’s character inadvertently sets fire to the chuppah, when something clicked. Of course! The chuppah! I leaped from the couch.

“What’s the matter?” Peter asked.

“I know who did it!” I cried. “I know who killed Michael and poisoned Bonnie and Julian.”