Treasured Past (8 page)

“Should we go ahead and move the furniture in?” I asked breezily. “I’m sure you have plenty to do and are probably ready to get me out of your hair.”

She was looking in my direction, but she seemed vacant, as though she were really seeing past me. She nodded, and without another word she motioned for me to follow her. I trailed several steps behind, noting the dejected way that her shoulders seemed to sag further with every step.

We moved the furniture from the dock to inside the back corridor of the store in virtual silence. The only time she spoke was to give me direction. “Watch your step on the floorboard here” and “This is a tight corner, you’ll have to stay as far right as possible.”

“Ready to go?” I could tell that she was forcing a smile as she locked up the store and we headed to her car.

“Nice night,” I said lamely.

“Kind of warm,” she replied, and I almost laughed. It was mid May. There was no such thing as too warm this early in the year.

Her silence was stony as she drove out of Cambridge and through Watertown on her way to my home in Newton. She pulled into my driveway and finally spoke as she put the transmission into park.

“I’m sorry about what happened back at the store. It was quite embarrassing, and I got flustered.” She wasn’t looking at me. Instead she stared directly ahead, focused on the garage door.

“Don’t apologize. I didn’t even understand what was going on,” I lied. “And you know that I don’t have a clue about who
Eoff
and
Shepard
are.” I was trying to inject a little humor, and I was rewarded when I caught the slight lifting at the corner of her lips. But she said nothing.

“Do you want to come in?” I finally asked. “You’ve already eaten the one dish I can prepare, but I can try to throw something together for us.”

Her voice was tired. “I would like nothing more than to relax with you this evening.” She took a deep breath. “But no, unfortunately. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be very good company, and I have quite a bit of work to do.” Her voice seemed strained.

“Okay.” I wasn’t going to push. I reached for the door handle and was about to open it when she interrupted.

“I didn’t realize Beth had a little boy.” Her voice was quiet and even. “She’s not married?”

Annie had no idea that she was opening up one of my wounds. “No, not anymore. She’s been divorced for a couple of years now. The whole case was a nightmare, actually. Maybe I’ll tell you about it sometime.” Why was I telling her this?

Annie was nodding slowly, digesting this.

“Are you and Beth partners?”

“Excuse me?” I couldn’t be certain that I’d heard her correctly.

She seemed to falter and appeared to be shocked by her own words. Her eyes met mine, and her smile was uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.” Her eyes dropped, and she waved the topic aside.

“No. It’s okay. I just wasn’t sure if I heard you correctly.” It crossed my mind again that Annie might be interested in Beth. Then I remembered that she was married.

She looked at me squarely. “I asked if you and Beth are partners.”

“I thought that’s what you said.” My laugh sounded strangled, and I caught my breath as I stared back at her. “No, we’re not. But not for a lack of effort on my mother’s part.” My laugh was hearty.

“Your mother?” For the first time in hours, Annie’s smile was genuine.

“Yeah, she adores Beth. My dad too.”

“But there’s nothing between you?”

Now that was a tough question to answer. “Well, we’ve known each other most of our lives, so there’s plenty between us. But nothing romantic. Not since about the seventh grade, anyway.”

“Seventh grade?” Another leading question.

“Yes. We were crazy about each other back then. We experimented a little…” I purposely let the sentence trail off.

Annie’s smile was lopsided as she nodded. “Experimented, eh? I suppose that’s another story that you’ll have to tell me about sometime.”

I shrugged, enjoying her banter. “Maybe,” I said. “I did invite you in.”

“I know. I appreciate it. But I really should get some work done tonight. Can I have a rain check?”

“Of course,” I nodded, reaching for the door handle once again. Then it struck me. She probably had to get home to her husband. My heart fell again, and then I thought about the confrontation that would probably occur when she walked in the door.

“I didn’t know you were married.” The words were out before I could stop them.

Her face held no expression. “I’m not. Anymore.”

Her words were simple and direct, but said far less than the hard eyes that bore into mine. I felt a tingle somewhere between my heart and my belly and almost shivered. She wasn’t married. And the look she was throwing my way told me clearly that it wasn’t Beth that she was interested in.

CHAPTER NINE

Melanie Barnes looked better than I’d ever remembered seeing her. She wore a fine summer dress that fit snugly, quite a difference from the tan suit that I was wearing. She was a natural redhead, with the whitest skin and more freckles than I’d ever seen on another human being.

She wrapped thin arms around my neck and gave me a big squeeze when she greeted me.

“Kate, you look so good.”

“You mean I look better than I did the last time you saw me,” I laughed.

“You were beginning to look like you never went to bed,” she admitted. “I’m just glad to see that the change has been good for you.”

“It has,” I admitted.

The restaurant where we’d arranged to meet was near Copley Plaza in downtown Boston. The café had several tables outside, shaded from the strong sun. We decided to enjoy the fine weather and settled into a corner table, out of the way from most of the other clientele.

We began catching up, Melanie filling me in on how everyone was and how they were doing. We ordered iced tea and waited for our salads to appear.

“How’s Beth doing? Do you ever see her?”

“She’s doing well. I see her all of the time.” It took me a second to realize that the last contact Melanie had with Beth was during Billy’s custody battle. She was studying my face carefully, and I knew where her thoughts were going.

“She actually sees quite a bit of Billy, too. Her ex-husband came around after a while. Billy was having a lot of trouble adjusting, and so her ex finally gave in. She doesn’t have custody, but they get to spend a lot of time together.”

Melanie remained silent, still studying me. “I’m okay, Melanie,” I told her.

“It wasn’t your fault, Kate. Judge Leahy is a redneck son of a bitch.”

I could see her beginning to get excited, and I did my best to intervene. “I know, Mel. Really. I’ve forgiven myself for losing the case.” I knew as I said the words that I was lying. I could have done more to win custody for Beth. “Beth and I have moved on, and life is good now. Stress free.”

She narrowed her green eyes. “You certainly look happier.”

“I am. I promise.” The waitress rescued us by placing two large salad plates on the table. I waited for her to leave the table before turning back to Melanie.

“So why don’t we get down to business?” I watched her closely while I lifted a tomato slice to my lips. “I understand that the only joint property here is a home in Cambridge.”

Melanie nodded. “The house originally belonged to my client’s parents. She inherited the house when they died about eight years ago.”

I completely lost my appetite. “You mean they didn’t purchase the home together?”

Melanie shook her head. “She only put his name on the title to keep the peace.”

Swallowing hard, I dropped my fork to the table. “That son of a bitch,” I muttered.

“Aha.” Melanie pointed her fork directly at me. “So you didn’t know about the inheritance?”

I shook my head. “I knew that he was an ass. But I actually know very little about him.” I was steaming, shaking my head. “I had no idea about the house.”

Melanie was carefully quiet, chewing pleasantly on a piece of lettuce. Trying to control my temper was difficult. I was walking a fine line with my old friend. I wanted to rant and rave and scream about the situation I was in, but at the same time I was acutely aware of my professional obligations.

“He wants the house.” I was almost growling. “No ifs,
and’s
, or
but’s
.”

Melanie took another bite of her salad, completely calm. “I’d call that stealing,” she said between bites.

“Legal theft, I’m afraid.” My stomach was sour. “More like blackmail, actually.”

I finally got Melanie’s attention. “What do you mean, blackmail?”

“You don’t know?”

Melanie shook her head, and I felt a sick kind of thrill at the irony of the situation. “I certainly don’t know the details,” I began. “But apparently my client witnessed his wife having sex with another woman.”

Melanie’s grin was sinister. “Good for her, I say.”

“Melanie ...” I was exasperated.

“Sorry.” She held up one hand. “I’m aware that my client was caught in a rather compromising position with another woman.” Her voice was almost prim.

“In the home that they shared, in
their
bed.”

“Which they hadn’t shared for
four
years,” Melanie interjected.

I studied her closely. “The house or the bed.”

“Both.” The sound of a carrot crunching between her teeth sounded far too smug. “They were separated.”

“For four years?” I was incredulous.

“Yep.”

“Legally?”

Melanie paused. “Nope. Got me there.” She took her time sipping from her glass of iced tea. “Apparently he couldn’t hold a job and kept floating from one thing to another. Finally she’d had enough and threw him out. She wanted a divorce but felt sorry for him.” She was chewing happily, watching my reaction. “She should have divorced him back then, and we wouldn’t be going through all of this.”

Stunned by what I’d learned, I could barely gather my thoughts enough to figure out where to go from there. I remembered Donald Junior’s words to me several weeks before, and repeated them to Melanie.

“He said that he’ll ruin her,” I said evenly. “He said that if she fights him on the house, he’ll make sure that everyone knows that she’s a lesbian.”

Melanie’s thin brows pulled up slowly. “Interesting tactic,” she mumbled. “But not totally unexpected.” She placed her fork on the table beside her salad plate. “So basically there’s no compromise as far as he’s concerned.”

“No.” I shook my head, my lips a careful line.

Melanie studied my face for several moments. “And I’m supposed to take this
compromise
back to my client? If she fights him on the house then he’ll out her?”

I nodded, sighing. “That’s pretty much the deal,” I cringed.

I watched her face register fury before she calmed herself down and shrugged. “I’m not exactly surprised. He sounds like a real loser.” She picked up her fork once again. “So how did you get involved with this guy anyway?”

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “You know I can’t go into that.”