A Season for Killing Blondes (4 page)

“Why would he even need one? Carrie Ann told me they parted amicably and still talked to each other.”

“That’s
her
version of the story,” Sofia said. “I heard he had a nervous breakdown and took a long time to get his act together. He married someone much younger, sounds like your Jean.” Sofia frowned. “Is she the one who gave you that ugly plant?

Trust Sofia to focus on the aesthetics. If I hadn’t intervened yesterday, she would have thrown out the river rock lucky bamboo plant that Jean had ordered for the occasion. For weeks, Jean had gushed about the three symbols inherent in each plant—wealth, happiness, and longevity. I explained, “She went to a lot of trouble to get the plant and even made a special trip out to the office before…oh no…Jean was there the other night.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I got to yoga class just before it started. Jean told me that she had dropped by the office before coming to the studio. She wanted to bless my office before the open house. She’s into that kind of thing and—” My mind went into overdrive. “I left the office before seven, and she probably arrived at the studio about twenty minutes before class started at eight. So, she could have been at the plaza sometime between seven and seven-thirty. Maybe that’s why she’s so upset about Carlo calling her.”

Sofia rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Carlo called her to confirm your story. He wouldn’t be asking about her whereabouts that night. And I don’t think she would have volunteered that information.”

My eyes traveled to the telephone. “I should let Carlo know.”

“You didn’t see her at the office. It’s her story to tell, not yours.” Sofia fluffed the sofa pillows, adjusted one of the prints on the wall, and turned the television set to Channel 59. Sofia and all my relatives liked this particular feature of condo life which provides an excellent view of the entrance to the building and allows me to screen all my visitors.

“I’m glad to see more color in your cheeks today. You looked so washed out yesterday.” Sofia did not hesitate to change the subject if the conversation got too intense or uncomfortable.

“I thought I held up well.”

“Don’t worry. Our mothers didn’t notice. They were too caught up in all the drama and excitement.” She shook her head. “You should have seen your mother’s house last night. She had a steady flow of visitors, and the last group didn’t leave until after midnight.”

“I hope it wasn’t too much for her.”

“My mother and I helped out with coffee and desserts. We made a serious dent in those boxes of Italian pastries.”

I had forgotten all about the pastries. And I no longer cared what happened to them.

“Not to worry. Your mother wasn’t alone last night,” Sophia said. “She needs a lot of people around in a crisis situation.”

“Maybe I should call her now. I wonder what—”

“I dropped our mothers off at the New Sudbury Shopping Centre. They’re planning to spend the day shopping and eat in the food court. I’ll pick them up later in the afternoon.”

“I can’t believe how well you handle these crises.” After my father’s death four years ago, Sofia added my mother’s concerns to her ever-growing list of responsibilities. When I returned to Sudbury, I had hoped to take some of that pressure off Sofia. But it hadn’t worked out that way. If anything, Sofia was even more pressed for time as she juggled her own household, decorating my office and condo, and her aging parents.

“I don’t mind doing it. In the end, it’s easier if I just take over and handle all the details.” She gave me an appraising once-over, taking in my yoga pants and T-shirt. “I take it you aren’t going into the office today.”

“That officer who sat in on the interview thinks I should wait until everything settles down.”

“You mean Detective Luke Matthews?” Sofia raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t Carlo introduce him to you?”

“I didn’t catch the name.”

“How was your session with Carlo?”

I decided not to share too much with Sofia. I still can’t believe how frazzled and incoherent I was throughout most of the inquisition. “He wanted to know all the details from both days. And I gave them to him.”

“Did he ask you out?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

“He can’t do that during an investigation where I…I…guess I’m a person of interest.” I thought back and realized that Carlo had behaved professionally in every way. Maybe too professionally. The only time he had shown some emotion was when I mentioned the Italian corner.

Sofia smiled confidently. “He’ll call once all of this blows over. He has your number.”

“He’ll be giving you a call sometime today.”

“Why would he need to do that? Is there some problem?” Sofia’s pupils dilated in surprise. Or was it irritation?

“Relax. He just wants to know what time you called me the other day.” There was a definite edge to her voice, one that I didn’t hear too often.

Her eyes thinned suspiciously. “What are you talking about?”

I explained. “You know how you like to call or drop by around six each day just to make sure I go home at a decent hour.”

“It must have been around ten to six or so.” She started fussing with the centerpiece on the table, trying to decide where it should be.

“No, you didn’t call that early. I went to the bank right after Carrie Ann left, and I didn’t get back to the office until after six.”

Sofia shrugged. “I guess I don’t remember then. Is it important?”

“It could be. They’re trying to pinpoint the time of death.”

“You mean she could have been killed while you were talking on the phone with me or checking your emails?” She shivered. “I wouldn’t share that with your mother or anyone else.”

“I’m so glad I have you to bounce things off. I don’t know what I would do if I were alone.” I leaned over and hugged her. The mood had passed, and she was warm, helpful Sofia again.

The telephone rang and startled us. Sofia glanced over at the television screen and groaned as she watched two blonde women standing in the lobby. “Great! Just who we need to see today.”

I moved closer to the screen, but still couldn’t recognize the two heavy-set women wearing black pantsuits. “Who are they?”

“Anna May and Jenny Marie Godfrey.”

While I hate using clichés, I couldn’t help thinking “How the mighty have fallen” as I observed the two middle-aged women on the screen. The years had not been kind to the former “it” girls who dominated every social event during their high school careers. Unlike Carrie Ann, Anna May and Jenny Marie had not maintained their spectacular looks and figures, but they were still using those double names. “An affectation,” one of the grade nine teachers had commented when Carrie Ann corrected the teacher several times during the first week of classes. The usually pleasant and co-operative Carrie Ann persisted and the teacher stopped calling her Caroline.

I picked up the phone and spoke into the receiver, “Come on up. I’m on the fifth floor—507.” I buzzed them up.

“You could have ignored the call,” Sofia said. “That’s what I would have done.”

“I have nothing to hide. And I am curious. What happened to them?”

“They got old and fat,” Sofia said. “And I don’t think they’ll be too thrilled to see you either.”

“Do they think I had something to do with Carrie Ann’s death?”

“I don’t know about that,” Sofia replied. “But I know three things for sure. You’re thinner, richer, and better looking than both of them.”

Before I could respond, I heard the knocks at the door. I opened the door and welcomed the two women. “Come on in. I’m so sorry we had to meet under these circumstances. My condolences to both of you.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off the sisters. Anna May wore a tight, black pantsuit which did little to diminish her girth. Her straight, blonde hair was styled in the same pageboy as Carrie Ann’s, but the color and texture appeared less natural. Her complexion was still smooth, and her makeup was artfully applied. Jenny Marie was shorter and not as heavy. She sported the same hairstyle as her sisters, but her skin was splotchy and showed signs of sun damage. She also wore a black pantsuit, but hers was not as form fitting.

Their eyes were puffy and red-rimmed.

Anna May spoke, “It’s been a long time, Gilda.”

“It’s unfortunate we had to meet under these circumstances.” I already said that. Why was I repeating myself? And why was I on edge? I motioned toward the living room.

“Yes, very unfortunate. That’s one of the reasons we’re here.” Anna May sat on the sofa. Jenny Marie, Sofia and I joined her.

“You have a lovely condo,” Jenny Marie said softly as her eyes traveled around the room. “This is the first time I’ve been in this building and, I must say, I’m impressed. Did you decorate it yourself or hire someone?

“Thanks, but I can’t take any of the credit. I just told Sofia what I liked, and she did the rest.”

Anna May dropped her purse on the floor. “I’m going to cut to the chase here. We’ve spent most of this morning between the police station and the funeral home, and we have a million other details to attend to. We don’t need to spend any more time making small talk and discussing decorating schemes.”

Jenny Marie gasped. “We aren’t in that much of a rush.”

Anna May’s face darkened as she continued to glare at me. “We hear that Carrie Ann visited you and shared some of her career concerns. I don’t know how desperate you are for business, but I find it appalling that you would claim her to be your first client. If she wanted a career change, she would discuss it with us, not a total stranger. Tell the truth unless you have something to hide.”

“I’ve told Carlo everything that happened, and I have no intention of taking any of it back. I don’t owe you or anyone else an explanation.” I forced myself to smile while rage surged through my blood. How dare this woman accuse me of lying?

Anna May stood. “My sister visits you, leaves, and is murdered in the back alley. Something fishy is going on here, Gilda Greco, and you’re at the center of it.”

Before I could speak, Sofia stood. Her eyes blazed with anger. “How dare you accuse Gilda? She didn’t harm Carrie Ann in any way. As for being desperate for clients, she doesn’t need the business.”

“I had forgotten about the lottery win,” Anna May smirked. “How kind of you to remind me, Sofia.” She moved closer to me. “Why couldn’t you just travel and live it up like all the other lottery winners?”

“Anna May!” Jenny Marie raised her voice. “You’re out of line.”

“I’m out of line?” Anna May threw up her hands. “If this new millionaire hadn’t decided to play Lady Bountiful and open up that career shop, Carrie Ann would still be alive today.” She sank into the sofa, shaking and sobbing uncontrollably. Jenny Marie leaned over to comfort her and mouthed “I’m sorry” to me.

My hands shook as I watched Anna May unravel before us. While I didn’t want to add fuel to the fire, I knew I had to say something. I waited for her to stop crying and then said, “I’m sorry you feel that way, Anna May. I’m just as horrified as you by Carrie Ann’s death. But I didn’t have anything to do with her murder. You must understand that.”

Anna May sat up straighter. “I don’t need lessons in understanding from you, Gilda Greco. So spare me.” She breathed heavily. “I’ll be watching your every step—”

“You have no right to come in here and threaten Gilda!” Sofia shouted.

“The loyal and devoted cousin.” Anna May stood up again and moved closer to Sofia. “How well you play that role, Sofia.”

“That’s enough, Anna May. I will not be insulted in my home, and I won’t allow you to insult Sofia either. Please leave.” I rose and moved toward the door.

The telephone rang, and my eyes traveled to the screen. The other women followed my gaze. Maria and Rosa had arrived.

I picked up the phone. “Come on up.” I entered my code and then hung up.

Jenny Marie continued to watch the screen as an elderly couple followed Maria and Rosa into the building. She sighed. “I wish my daughter had this setup in her apartment building.”

“Jenny Marie, we need to get going.” Anna May stood impatiently by the door.

Jenny Marie ignored her. She watched the screen as a young woman with a cartful of groceries punched in her code.

I heard the knock at the door and opened it. Anna May stood to the side as I welcomed Maria and Rosa into the condo. Maria carried a large, steaming casserole, and Rosa had a covered rectangular Pyrex dish.

Sofia sniffed the air. “Something smells wonderful. Could it be lasagna?”

“What a nose you have, Sofia!” Maria headed toward the kitchen and placed the casserole on the counter.

Rosa offered her plate to me. I peeked inside. “Pineapple cheesecake—my absolute favorite!” I hugged her and then went over and hugged Maria. “You shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble.”

“Calories and cholesterol. Ladies, you need to watch it,” Anna May smirked again.

How could Anna May even think of offering anyone diet advice? I decided to take the higher ground and say nothing. No point adding to the acrimony that already existed between us.

Rosa reddened and her eyes flickered with anger. Before she could speak, Maria reappeared and placed a restraining hand on her arm. Thankfully, the moment passed.

“Jenny Marie, let’s get out of this place.” Anna May pointed a finger in my direction. “Remember, I’m watching you, Gilda Greco.”

After the door closed, Maria and Rosa came over and hugged me again. I tried to smile, but found it difficult to let go of all the tension that had built up inside.

“What did she mean by that?” Rosa asked.

“She thinks I had something to do with Carrie Ann’s death,” I replied.

Maria made the sign of the cross. “Stay away from Anna May. She’s mean to the bone and likes to stir up trouble for everyone.”

“I don’t understand why they even came,” Rosa said. “You’re not that close, and if they think you did it, why didn’t they just tell the police?”

Rosa had a valid point. One I hadn’t considered while Anna May accused me of having something to do with Carrie Ann’s death. She was grieving, but there was some other emotion beneath all that. Could it be fear? What on earth would Anna May Godfrey be afraid of? The Anna May I remember walked confidently and fearlessly through the halls of Sudbury Secondary.