That Summer (22 page)
“I don't feel sorry for him now. He's landed in a field of clover. But I am sorry that he didn't have a more loving childhood.”
“He did okay. Even when he was a kid, Kevin was good at looking out for himself.”
His eyes were on my mouth and his voice sounded husky. I said, “Do you want to eat?”
He blinked. “Sure.”
“I'm afraid we didn't have any cold cuts in the house, but these sandwiches should remind you of the old days.”
He bit into the sandwich I had handed him. “Peanut butter and jelly! I haven't had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in years.”
“Is it good?”
“It's terrific.”
I unscrewed the thermos of orange juice and filled a glass. It gave me such pleasure, to give him a sandwich and pour a glass of juice for him.
The lock of hair had tumbled down over his forehead and my fingers itched to smooth it back. His fingers looked dark against the white bread of the sandwich. Liam always looked as if he had a tan.
He smiled at me. “This is nice.”
“Yes sir, Captain Wellington.”
His smile broadened. “Good job, Mate Foster.”
We laughed, a low intimate sound. Then Lucy, who had been investigating the surrounding woods, came up to Liam looking for him to throw something for her.
I got to my feet. “I'm going to go soak my foot.”
Liam fished the tennis ball out of the basket. “Come on, Lucy. Do you want to swim?”
I sat on one of the rocks that bordered the pond and took off my shoes and socks. Then I waded in.
The water was cold.
Liam stood on the shore and threw the ball for Lucy, who flew after it, ears streaming back in the breeze she created. Water splashed as she tracked down the ball. Then she had it and was coming back, swimming until she could touch ground and start her tail wagging.
How many times have I watched Liam throw a ball for a dog? Why does watching him now make me want to cry?
I was so close to him. Closer, I thought, than anyone else in the world. And yet I was so far away.
We stayed for another half an hour, then we loaded the picnic basket and the dog back into the truck and went home.
T
uesday night I rented a movie and Liam drove into Mom's to watch it with me. We sat together on the sofa, with a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, and watched a Julia Roberts film that had just come out on video.
I was so conscious of Liam, whose shoulder was touching mine, that I had a hard time concentrating on the movie. Halfway through the film his hand closed over mine and we watched the remainder of the movie that way.
“That was nice,” I said when the film was over.
“Yes, it was.” His voice sounded a little huskier than usual. “What do you want to do tomorrow night?”
“I can't do anything with you tomorrow night. I accepted an invitation to have dinner with Michael Bates.”
“Cancel it,” he said.
“I can't. I don't want to. I want to find out if anything more is happening in the case.”
“How about if I tag along with you?”
“No! He won't say anything at all if you're there.”
“What more could be happening, Annie?”
“I don't know. That's what I want to find out.”
“You're using poor Michael.”
“Oh, so now he's ‘poor Michael.’ You usually talk about him as if he was an ogre.”
He was looking very somber. “Do you know what, Annie? If we're going to date then I don't want you going out with anyone else. I'm a possessive sort of bastard. I don't like to share.”
The words struck a chord in my mind. Then I remembered. He had said those words, or something very like them, to Leslie the night I had overheard the two of them arguing in the garden.
“All right,” I said. “It's a deal. But I can't cancel out on Michael. It would be too rude.”
“Okay. Go out with him this once. But that's all.”
“I promise.”
After Liam had gone home I went to talk to Mom, who had gamely stayed upstairs, supposedly correcting papers, so Liam and I could have the living room to ourselves.
She was reading a book in bed. “How did it go?”
“Good. He held my hand. I think he's starting to look at me as a woman and not as his little pal.”
“Well, that's progress.”
“I feel encouraged. He's definitely not happy that I'm seeing Michael tomorrow night, but I said it would be too rude of me to cancel.”
“It would be.”
“I know. Plus I want to pump him to see if there's anything new in the case.”
Mom frowned. “You sound very hardhearted, honey.”
“Don't you start with the ‘poor Michael’ too,” I said. “He's a grown man and the way I've landed him with company on all of our dates he can't think I'm serious about him. In fact, I'm surprised he continues to ask me out.”
“He must like you.”
“He's looking to rebound from Kim, which isn't a good idea. He needs some time to heal before he takes up with another woman.”
“You're probably right.”
“Anyway, I'm only having dinner with him. Liam said I was leading him on, but I'm not. I've never even kissed the man!”
“You don't have to get so defensive, honey. I don't think you're leading him on. But I don't think you should continue to see him just to pump him for information.”
“Okay, okay. I think I'm going to bed, Mom. I'm tired.”
“Goodnight, honey.”
I kissed her cheek. “I'm sorry if I seem to be embroiling you in my love life.”
“It's a good distraction for me,” she replied. “It gives me something else to think about.”
“Good. Goodnight, Mom.”
“Goodnight, Anne.”
I went across the corridor to my room, took a shower and got into bed. When finally I slept, I dreamed of Liam.
Michael picked me up the following night and as we walked out to his car he said, “I thought we'd go into Up-perville. There's a nice restaurant there that you probably haven't been in before.”
“Sounds good,” I said.
We chatted casually as he drove the few miles it took for us to get to Upperville. Upperville was aptly named since there was more money there than in Midville.
The restaurant was small, with white tablecloths and paintings that were not of horses on the walls.
“It's kind of nice to look at landscapes for a change,” I said to Michael.
He agreed. “Midville can overdo it a little on the horsey stuff.”
Michael had a reservation and we were shown to our table. A waiter took our orders for drinks.
I said, “So what have you been doing since I saw you last?”
“Nothing as exciting as you,” he said. “What a thrill that must have been, to see Someday Soon win the Preak-ness.”
“It was so exciting,” I agreed. “I carried on like a four-year-old on Christmas morning.”
“And now he only has to win the Belmont and he'll have the Triple Crown. Is that right?”
“It's true that he has to win the Belmont, but not that he ‘only’ has to win the Belmont. It will be his third race in five weeks, and it's the most grueling of them all. One and a half miles long. There's a reason there are so few Triple Crown winners. I once heard Jim McKay, who has seen years and years of sporting events, say that racing's Triple Crown is the hardest athletic achievement of them all.”
“Wow. Do you think Someday Soon has a chance to win?”
“I think he has a very good chance to win.”
“That's good. I won a tidy sum of money on him the last time he ran.”
“I don't think the odds will be that good this time.”
“Probably not.”
I said, “Anyway, back to my original question. What have you been doing since I saw you last?”
“Working on Leslie's case and getting nowhere.”
Relief washed over me. “It's too old. If there ever was any evidence, it's probably been long gone.”
“We did find a few odds and ends in the vicinity of the burial.”
“Like what?”
“A bracelet, which Mr. Bartholomew has identified as belonging to Leslie; a hair clip; and a miraculous medal.”
My heart plummeted into my stomach. “A what?”
“A miraculous medal. You know, the kind people wear around their necks.”
“Oh, yes. That kind of medal.”
“Mr. Bartholomew said it didn't belong to Leslie, which wasn't a surprise. Leslie wasn't the kind of girl who went around with medals hanging around her neck.”
“No, she wasn't.” My voice sounded choked.
“Everyone else was out of town at the race, so I haven't had a chance to show the medal around. Do you know of anyone to whom it might belong?”
“No,” I said steadily. “I have no idea.”
“Do you know if the senator is back at Wellington?”
“Yes, I believe he came home for a few days.”
“Good, then I'll stop by there tomorrow morning. I haven't been able to connect up with him, or with Liam and Kevin.”
“Where has Kevin been?” I asked sharply.
“Mary told me he went to New York for a few days.”
I essayed a smile. “Well, it doesn't sound as if your investigation is dead at all. You have a hairclip and a miraculous medal to add to the mix.”
“The hairclip was probably Leslie's. The medal is interesting, though.”
“Was it found right on the grave?”
“No, it was a few feet away. We figured out that it could have come off the killer when he was carrying Leslie to the grave he had dug.”
“That's an ugly picture.”
“Everything about this case is ugly, Anne. To have a beautiful young girl like Leslie just wiped out like that. My God, she was only eighteen years old.”
I bowed my head. “I know.”
Michael said, “Hey! We're here on a date! Let's lighten this conversation up, shall we?”
“Okay,” I answered. “Tell me about the kind of music that you like.”
He responded and we talked about other things while we ate dinner and then dessert. I tried very hard to act normally, but it took tremendous effort and by the time he dropped me off at home, I was so stressed out from the effort that when he bent to kiss me, I jumped.
He said, “Hey, Anne! I'm not going to rape you.”
I produced a weak smile. “I'm sorry, Michael.”
“What's wrong?”
“Nothing's wrong. I'm just tired, I guess. And I'm worried about Mom.”
“Will you jump if I try to kiss you again?”
/
should tell him that I'm dating Liam. But then he‘ll wonder why I went out with him tonight. He'll think I wanted to pump him about the case. I don't want to hurt his feelings. A little kiss can't hurt.
“Sure,” I said and lifted my face.
The kiss was a little more intense than I wanted it to be, but I did my part and smiled when it was over. “Goodnight, Michael.”
“Goodnight, Anne. I'll call you soon.”
“Okay.”
I put my key in the lock and was safely into the house. I stood perfectly still in the hallway for a long time, with the same thought going round and round in my brain.
They found a miraculous medal. They found a miraculous medal. Dear God, they found a miraculous medal.
“Anne?” My mother's voice came from the living room. “Are you all right?”
Should I tell Mom?
The answer was immediate:
No. Don't involve her in this. Don't put her in a position where she may have to lie.
I put on what I hoped was a normal expression and went into the living room, where Mom was watching TV with a stack of papers on her lap.
“How was your dinner, honey?”
“Very nice. I had duck. I haven't had that in ages.”
“Where did you eat?”
I told her.
“Oh yes, I've heard of it. It's pretty pricey, though, isn't it?”
“Very pricey. We'll stick to the Coach Stop.”
She laughed.
“Are you watching something good?” A commercial was on.
“I'm watching the Orioles game and correcting papers. They're playing the Yankees.”
“Daddy would have been glued to the set if he was here.”
“I know. He purely loved baseball.”
“Who's winning?”
“The Yankees. Giambi just hit a home run.”
“Yuck. Well, I'm going to bed, Mom. I'm tired.”
“All right, honey.”
I went to give her a kiss and then I went up the stairs to my bedroom. I closed the door, sat on my bed and took out my cell phone. I dialed the number for Wellington.
Thank God Liam answered.
“It's me,” I said. “I just got back from dinner with Michael Bates and he told me they found a miraculous medal near Leslie's grave.”
Silence.
“Did you hear me, Liam? He's going to be asking everyone in your family if they've ever seen it.”
“Do you think it's mine, Annie?”
“You used to wear a miraculous medal. Your grandmother gave it to you for your Confirmation.”
“Do you think I lost it while I was burying Leslie's body?”
“Of course not! I don't know how the hell it got there, but it isn't going to look good for you. I think the best thing you can do is to deny it's yours—and get your mother and father and Kevin to deny it too.”
“There are bound to be people in town who remember that I wore a medal.”
“Some of Leslie's friends might remember seeing it around your neck that summer. You were still wearing it then.”
Liam said, “Do you think the cops will put this info in the paper?”
“Probably.”
“Shit.”
“I know.”
“It isn't my medal, Annie. I swear to you, it isn't my medal.”
“You don't have to swear to me, Liam. I believe you.”
“All right. Let me warn my mother, my father and Kevin. Thanks for the call, Annie.”
“Liam … do you think Kevin will back you up?”
“We'll see soon, won't we?”
“Okay. I'll see you tomorrow then.”
“See you tomorrow.” He disconnected the phone.
I got into bed, but I couldn't sleep. Pictures of Liam in bathing shorts in Leslie's pool flashed before my mind. He had worn that medal all summer long. I don't know when he had stopped wearing it. Could I remember seeing it on him anytime after Leslie's death?
I thought and thought and couldn't remember. I had gone away to school and we had seen so little of each other after that.
What was the likelihood of the police finding out about Liam's medal? Michael didn't hang around with Leslie's crowd, so he probably never noticed it. But Justin probably knew. And so would several other people from the old crowd.
