Death in a Beach Chair (10 page)

SEVENTEEN

“What do you think about that?” Kathleen asked Susan when Rose, promising to return if she remembered “anything else important,” had departed.

“She’s not the most reliable reporter, but she wants to help and she may be the type of person people talk to. I was stunned to hear that Allison was going to have a book published.”

“Do you think it will turn out to be as autobiographical as it sounds?” Kathleen asked.

Susan looked at her friend. Kathleen was staring into the large mirror hung between the two windows on the wall across from the bed, idly arranging and rearranging her hair. Her shoulders were sagging, and even from behind, she looked tired and discouraged. “You know, I can’t imagine Allison writing a book, but then I guess I really didn’t know her all that well. I thought about her as an extension of June.”

“You know what’s bothering me?” Kathleen spoke up, still facing the wall. “What’s bothering me is that you won’t talk to me about June.”

“I—”

“You never wanted to talk to me about June. No one wanted to talk to me about June. Damn it, even Jerry keeps me in the dark about her.”

Susan, realizing Kathleen’s shoulders were shaking as she began to sob, hurried over and embraced her friend. “You’re right. I didn’t realize. I’ve been stupid. Maybe we’ve all been stupid.”

With a loud sniff, Kathleen pulled herself together. “I’ve been stupid, too. I should have encouraged Jerry to talk about her before we got married, but I didn’t. To tell the truth, he talked so much about their children that I thought he was talking about her. It wasn’t until we were married and living together that I realized how little I knew about her.”

“What do you mean?”

Kathleen sat down in the rocking chair Rose had so recently vacated, bit her lips, and started to explain. “When you introduced me to Jerry he was living in that condo down by the water, remember?”

“Yes.” Susan couldn’t imagine what was coming.

“Well, he was subletting the place and it was furnished—pretty much. He’d brought his computer, stereo, and some personal things. Then we got married and both agreed that it was a good idea to buy a house. I had some savings and Jerry had the profits from the home he had sold just sitting in the bank getting almost no interest. So we found our house, bought it, and a week later a huge moving van pulled up from the company that had been storing his stuff and began to unload.”

Susan nodded. “I remember.”

“That’s right! You came over to help. I’d forgotten.”

“Probably because you were so upset.”

Kathleen laughed bitterly. “And I thought I hid it so well.”

“Nope. And I didn’t blame you. It was insensitive of Jerry—and me—not to realize what you were going through. God, Kath, I feel awful about it now and that was years ago. You may have thought you were hiding things, but when the first piece of furniture out of the van was that pencil bed—”

“Their bed,” Kathleen agreed, nodding.

“Yes. Of course. I remember the expression on your face.”

“And you offered to go furniture shopping with me. I’d forgotten.”

“Do you remember the salesman at Bloomingdale’s?”

Kathleen laughed. “I sure do. He was positive that they couldn’t deliver the bedroom furniture for at least a week.”

“And we convinced him that it could be done in twenty-four hours.”

“And it was!”

“I’d forgotten all about that.”

“And you probably never even knew that the next thing off the truck, the double dresser, was full of June’s clothing.”

“I had no idea. I thought all of that had been cleaned out.” Susan paused, walking over to the window and looking out at the beach before continuing. “I helped Jerry clean out the house before he sold it. Emptying the children’s rooms was heartbreaking. I remember emptying June’s closet. And the nightstand on her side of the bed. I guess I just missed the dresser.”

“You missed her desk, too.”

“Her desk? Oh, that’s right. The little cherry desk. It sat in the corner of their kitchen.” Susan had a flash of June sitting there, organizing a fund-raiser for the PTA, piles of paper before her. “Was it full of stuff?”

“Yes. Mostly notebooks and sheets of paper. I became obsessed with those papers. I put the desk in the guest room—that’s what it was then, now it’s Emily’s room—and went through those papers over and over. They told me a lot about her. How organized she was, how involved in the lives of her children, what a wonderful cook she must have been. There was even a box of letters that Jerry had written her before they got married.”

Susan didn’t know what to say. This didn’t sound at all like her self-confident friend. Kathleen and Jerry had always seemed so happy. Susan had no idea that Kathleen might be haunted by the memory of his first wife.

“I think my problem was that everyone loved June. I mean, I didn’t want Jerry to have been married to an awful person, but June was always talked about as being perfect. She was everything I wasn’t. She was petite and cute, she was domestic, and she had perfect children—”

“It wasn’t really like that at all,” Susan interrupted gently.

“Of course it wasn’t. No one’s perfect. I know that. Ask any cop and he’ll tell you that no one has any idea what goes on in other people’s lives. In my head, I knew June couldn’t have been perfect, but I was so overwhelmed. Living in the suburbs with a new husband, leaving behind my work in the city—was just too much.”

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea. None.”

“You might have if it had gone on for long, but after a few months, I pulled myself together. It wasn’t all that hard to do. Jerry and I were so happy. I would have been a fool to keep beating myself over the head for not being the perfect suburban housewife.”

“But, Kathleen, June wasn’t perfect.”

“Do you know that’s the first time you’ve ever said anything at all negative about her!”

“I—I don’t know what to say. She—we—we had a lot in common. Jed and Jerry were best friends in college and they always spent a lot of time together, so of course June and I did, too. We joined the Field Club the same year, had our children around the same time, and then the kids went to school together. Heavens, we were class mothers and taught Sunday school together. The truth is that we were together a whole lot. But that doesn’t mean that we were close.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. You know how it is. How many women are you quote-unquote friends with that you wouldn’t even talk with if your kids and their activities didn’t throw you together frequently?”

“I suppose that’s true. But I’m surprised that June would fall into that group.”

“I—” A knock on the door interrupted Susan.

The door opened and a scarf-covered head peeked in. “I’m sorry. I bring towels. Bath towels,” the young black woman explained.

Susan looked around. “But the room’s already made up.”

“I work here earlier in day, but towels still in laundry.”

“Just leave them on the bed and I’ll put them away later,” Susan said.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Susan didn’t resume speaking until the door had closed behind the maid and they were alone again. “To tell you the truth, I didn’t realize this until about a year after her death. I didn’t miss June enough. Other women filled in the spaces in my life, and I began to realize that my relationship with June had been more casual than the amount of time we had spent together would lead anyone—including me, apparently—to believe.”

“So tell me about her.”

“Well, she was pretty. You’ve seen pictures, so you know that.” Susan sighed. “I don’t know. She was a good wife, a good mother, a good member of the community. But, that’s about all. She did what was expected of her and she did it well, but there was no spark, no excitement, no creativity. Do you remember when Emily was a baby and Alex got all his Magic Markers together and put all those bright-colored streaks in her hair?”

“How could I forget! I could have killed him before I realized that they weren’t permanent. And she looked so silly and happy.” Kathleen smiled at the memory.

“And you took all those photos of her and sent them to all your friends the next Halloween.”

“Yeah. Not a great lesson for Alex, but I couldn’t resist. And he did seem to understand that drawing on his sister is absolutely forbidden. At least, he never did it again.”

“June would never, ever have done anything like that. She wouldn’t have laughed about it. Babies aren’t supposed to have multicolored hair and that would be all there was to it.”

“Her kids were probably much better behaved than mine are,” Kathleen said.

“No, they weren’t. But it’s June we’re talking about. She couldn’t hold a candle to you, Kath.”

Kathleen smiled. “Okay. Enough self-indulgence. I feel better, but Jerry is still locked up. We need to help him. And it will be a lot easier for me to ask questions about Allison now that we both feel more comfortable talking about June.”

“Of course, if we could just get hold of Allison’s book, we might find out a whole lot about both of them.”

“You do think it’s about them! Were you aware of them competing with each other?”

“Not really. But it sounds like the book is written from Allison’s point of view. I do know that June found Allison’s visits to be somewhat trying. She wasn’t a relaxed hostess. She wanted everything perfect and that’s why I had them over to dinner for holiday meals. But, you know, now that I think about it, that competition thing may have been a dominant theme of their relationship. And it may have been the reason June was so nuts when Allison came to visit—she wanted everything to be perfect—so she could show it off.”

“Was Allison ever married?”

“Not when she used to visit in Hancock. She made a big deal about her exciting single lifestyle. To listen to her, life was just a series of parties, trips to exotic places, and affairs with gorgeous men—but we never met any of those men. In fact, I remember June making a rather nasty comment about that one Thanksgiving.”

“What did she say?”

“Oh, Allison was going on and on about a trip she and some man were planning to his family’s villa on Capri. It was a bit boring for everyone listening. No one at the table had been to Capri, and June was just getting over the flu and feeling rotten. Anyway, June asked why all these rich and good-looking men never came to Hancock. I don’t remember what Allison answered, but she implied that Hancock was just too, too suburban and she didn’t think her lovers would be happy there.”

“How did June react to that?”

“I remember looking over at her and realizing that she was absolutely furious. But she didn’t say anything.”

“Did you think that was odd?”

“Not really. It was Thanksgiving. All our kids were there, as well as Jed’s mother and Jerry’s parents. No one wanted a family argument erupting in the middle of the meal. It was almost as though Allison knew she could say anything she wanted to say and get away with it.”

“Did Jerry’s parents like June?” Kathleen asked, changing the subject.

“I guess so. I never thought about it . . . although I do remember Jed saying that there was some sort of argument or conflict or something the night before they were married. To tell you the truth, I don’t remember the details—if I knew them.”

“You were there?”

“Yes. I was a bridesmaid—hideous green polyester satin dress and a big floppy straw hat with ribbons down the back. All I needed were some sheep. I hated it. You know, I met Allison at that wedding. She was maid of honor and hated her dress as much as, if not more, than I did. The female attendants wore various shades of green. Mine was jade—ugly, but not bad. Hers was sort of dark avocado. She thought it looked like she was wearing a refrigerator—and it did, sort of.”

“Ugh.”

“Yes. Who—”

The door opened and both women turned around, expecting to see the maid again. But Jed stood there. He looked exhausted.

EIGHTEEN

“How’s Jerry?” Kathleen asked immediately.

“How are you? You look exhausted!” Susan cried.

“Jerry’s just fine. He was just getting ready to take a nap when I left him. I promised I’d be back in an hour or so. The kitchen here is going to pack up a lunch to bring him.”

“So you came back just to pick up lunch?” Kathleen asked, sounding dubious.

“That was an excuse. I came back to give you two a message. And I’d be a lot happier if I had some idea what message I’m supposed to be delivering.”

“What?” Kathleen and Susan asked simultaneously.

“Look, Kathleen, you’ve been there, you know how it is with Jerry. There’s absolutely no privacy and no way to talk without being overheard. The doors and windows are louvered. Anyone could be standing right outside and listening to anything we say. And a guard remained in the room for the entire time I was there, as well.”

“So you couldn’t write each other notes or whisper or anything like that,” Susan guessed.

“Exactly. We kind of stood around together and commented on the weather and stuff until Jerry suggested playing cards.”

“We thought that didn’t sound like you two,” Kathleen explained.

“It isn’t, but once we started, I realized it was a brilliant idea on his part. We played and chatted, trying to sound casual. At first, I didn’t realize what was going on.”

“What was going on?” Kathleen asked.

“A whole lot—at least, that’s what I started thinking on the drive back here. The most important thing is that Jerry kept mentioning you, Kathleen. And in sort of a negative way.”

“What?”

“That’s not what I was trying to say.” Jed ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that to sound so awful. Jerry kept mentioning you, Kath, and after a while, I realized he was trying to give me a message.”

“What message?” Susan asked.

“What sort of negative things was he saying?” was Kathleen’s question.

“He kept saying things like Kathleen shouldn’t go out in the kayaks here. That it’s too dangerous. And that he didn’t want Kathleen to swim in the ocean. That he thought that might be dangerous, too. Frankly, I thought he was getting a bit paranoid. I said something about you going out kayaking,” Jed explained to his wife. “And Jerry said that was just fine. That Susan was safe kayaking and being in the ocean and Kathleen wasn’t.”

“I swim as well as Susan,” Kathleen protested.

“But I don’t believe Jerry was talking about the ocean. I think he was talking about looking into Allison’s murder. I think he thought that Susan should and you shouldn’t.”

“Why? Does he think I will find out something about him that he doesn’t want me to know?” Kathleen asked bitterly.

“I don’t think that’s what he was saying at all,” Susan protested. “I think he was trying to warn Kathleen.”

“About what?” Kathleen asked.

“I think he wants you to stay put inside the cottage. I think he thinks you might be in danger.”

“Oh, please. I’m not going to fall off a kayak. I’m not going to drown in the ocean. And I sure as shit am not going to sit in my cottage and twiddle my thumbs while Jerry is under arrest on an island in the Caribbean. Period.”

Susan nodded approvingly. “Of course not.

“So what else did Jerry tell you?” she asked, turning her attention to her husband.

“I think—but I’m not sure—that he was trying to tell me something about the cardplayers.”

“What cardplayers?” Kathleen asked.

“Those two couples who are always playing bridge?” Susan guessed.

“I don’t know which couples you mean, but you know how I am about people.”

Susan nodded. She did. He was unobservant. Not in a normal husband “have you worn that dress before? when she’d worn it weekly for over three years” sort of way, but in a “who was sitting next to us last night when that happened” sort of way. It was unlikely that her husband would have noticed two bridge-playing couples in their mid-sixties. “So what did Jerry say about them?”

“He didn’t say anything about them. He just kept talking about playing cards. At first he said maybe we should find a deck and play a game, that it was amazing how you could play cards and think and talk about something else.”

“So?”

“So I called a guard and asked if he could find us a deck of cards. There were two guards right outside Jerry’s door playing cards when I arrived, so I knew there wouldn’t be any trouble finding us a deck.”

“So?”

“Look, even after I had brought the cards and after we started playing, he kept talking about how interesting it is what people say when they’re playing cards. I thought he was trying to make a point—so I would listen to what he was saying. But he kept repeating himself over and over. It finally occurred to me that maybe he was trying to make a point about something back here.”

“And you’re sure he said the important thing is what people talk about when they play cards?” Susan asked.

“I can’t be sure of anything, hon. It’s possible that he was just making sure that I was listening carefully to what he was saying. And if that’s true, all he’s worried about is keeping Kathleen indoors.”

“And since I’m not going to do that, I guess we can ignore the entire thing,” Kathleen said.

“Do you want to come see him when I take back his lunch?” Jed asked her.

Kathleen hesitated. “I love being with him.”

“You know he would love to see you,” Susan said.

“And you might understand what he’s trying to tell you better than I do,” Jed added.

“On the other hand, those people who wrote us notes are expecting to talk to both of us,” Kathleen pointed out.

“That’s true.”

“And it could be important that I talk to them.”

“That’s true, too.”

“Rose certainly wanted to talk to me, as well as you.”

Susan nodded. “So you think you should stay here.”

“Yes. After all, we’re meeting Peggy and Frank for drinks, right?”

“So you want me to tell Jerry that you can’t come see him because of your full social schedule?” Jed asked.

“No, don’t tell him that. He might worry.”

“These are all guests who want to talk to us about the murder,” Susan explained. “If Jerry doesn’t want Kath to investigate, he won’t be happy to hear about any of it.”

“Do you mind lying to him?” Kathleen asked.

“Yes. And, as Susan will tell you, I’m not really any good at lying.”

“Why don’t you tell Jerry that Kathleen will bring him dinner tonight? That she’s lying down.”

Kathleen obliged by immediately flopping onto the middle of the bed and closing her eyes. “Now it’s not a lie.”

Jed frowned. “I’ll tell Jerry I left Kathleen resting in our cottage. If he asks me what she’s going to do this afternoon—”

“Tell him you have no idea, but you’re sure I’ll be safe.”

“And she will be, Jed,” his wife added. “I won’t leave her side.”

Jed looked from one woman to the other. “I’m not sure that makes me feel a whole lot better. You both be careful.”

“We will be. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll worry,” Jed said. “And I’ll be back as soon as possible.” He glanced down at his watch. “I’d better pick up Jerry’s lunch and get it to him.”

“Why don’t we walk over with you and ask about having a dinner prepared that Kathleen can deliver to him later,” Susan suggested.

“So much for telling Jerry that I left you resting in our cottage,” Jed said, opening the door for the two women.

“You can tell him that you left me in the restaurant. He’ll believe it. He knows that I eat when I get nervous,” Kathleen said.

Jed stopped. “Kathleen, everything’s going to be all right.”

“It will be if I have anything to do about it,” she answered.

He smiled. “I’d place my bet on you two any day of the week. But—”

“—be careful.” Susan finished his sentence for him.

Jed placed an arm around his wife’s shoulders and gave her a quick hug. “You read my mind.”

“Nothing like thirty years of practice,” she said, grinning.

“So thirty years is what it takes,” Kathleen muttered.

Susan and Jed exchanged looks. “Why don’t you go on back to the kitchen alone? You can order Jerry’s dinner and check to see if his lunch is ready at the same time,” Susan suggested to her friend.

“I spoke with a woman named Sissy when I called, so you might look for her,” Jed added.

“Got it. I’ll be back in a few.”

“How’s she holding up?” Jed asked, watching Kathleen walk away.

“I don’t know. We had a long conversation about June. Jerry hadn’t talked much about her, and Kathleen was curious.” They had come to the large coral stone retaining wall, and the Henshaws leaned against it and looked out to sea. “I hadn’t thought about June in years,” she continued, watching as the honeymooning couple horsed around in a two-man kayak.

“Not surprising. Kathleen is a better friend—and probably a better wife—than June ever was.”

Susan’s mouth dropped open, and she looked over at her husband, astonished. “Didn’t you like her?”

“Not really.”

“I can’t believe it. Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“What good would that have done? Anyway, she was married to Jerry. It didn’t really matter how I felt about her.”

Susan was astounded. “I had no idea!”

“Well, you two were such good friends. I thought saying anything would be inappropriate.”

“But you like Kath.”

“Of course I do. I’m crazy about her. And so is Jerry.”

“Were Jerry and June having problems with their marriage when she died?”

“You’d probably know more about that than I would. Jerry and I don’t talk about our marriages as a rule.”

“June didn’t talk to me like that. We weren’t particularly close.”

It was Jed’s turn to be surprised. “Susan . . .”

“I don’t think I realized it at the time, Jed . . .”

“Susan . . .”

“And I still miss the kids . . .”

“And maybe you don’t want to talk about this right now. We could be overheard. And considering the situation . . .”

Susan looked around. The newlyweds had fallen overboard and were enthusiastically dunking each other. A man was sunning himself on a float in the middle of the swimming pool, and half a dozen other guests were lounging on the patio. The bridge players had resumed their tournament, and as Susan watched, Ro became the dummy and got up and walked around to examine her partner’s hand. “Jed, have you ever played cards with Jerry before today?”

“Of course. Sometimes there’s a game going on in the locker room at the club. A bunch of us get together for golf and have to kill time until we can tee off. You know how it is.”

She didn’t, but she nodded anyway.

“Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. I was just wondering about the two couples that play bridge. Why would they come to a gorgeous place like this and just sit around and play cards? Couldn’t they do that at home?”

“Sure. But at home it’s cold and wet if not actually snowy. Here it’s warm, beautiful, and they can get a tan while they play. Why were you thinking about them?”

“I don’t know. I keep thinking that it’s odd that Jerry would mention card playing to you. Those two couples are the only thing I can think of that he might be talking about.”

“Maybe they saw something.”

“But that’s not what you said. You said that Jerry said to listen to what the cardplayers were saying.”

Jed shrugged. “I have no idea what he was talking about. Guess it’s up to you and Kathleen to figure that one out.”

“Just one of the small mysteries. Maybe if we find an answer to that one, we’ll be a bit closer to finding the murderer.”