Isabella Moon (14 page)

When he was finished, he felt like he’d done some real work. This death, and the high school kid’s, had reminded him why he’d become a cop in the first place—not because he was an altruistic sort or gave much of a damn for his fellow humans like so many cops pretended. No, this kind of work gave his brain something to chew on, a reason to go to work every morning.

Looking at the scene, it seemed probable to him that unless the daughter discovered there were things missing, they weren’t going to find much inside. Lillian Cayley had been on her way out to garden or was just going into the house, he guessed, when the killer surprised her.

In the woods at the back of the yard, the trees had just begun to bud and the new brush hadn’t yet sprung up. Bill could just see out to the county service road that cut through the woods, half circling the East End before turning off to the town reservoir. If he had his geography right, the road also ran past the back of the East End’s cemetery.

13

Mary-Katie laughed when she saw the enormous size of the sanctuary of the Episcopal church where Miles had arranged for them to be married.

“We’ll get lost in here,” she said, taking in the vast height of the room’s paneled white ceiling and the tall stained-glass windows lining the walls. She wasn’t sure who the people pictured in the windows were meant to be: several of them looked like angels, but then there was a bleeding man in a pointed hat who had a sword stuck through his head, a woman who seemed to be carrying her eyeballs on a plate, and another man whose severed head lay at his feet. A chill ran up her spine, and she didn’t think it was because of the air-conditioning.

The woman showing them around assured her that the sanctuary was appropriate. “We’ve had weddings here, large and small, for more than seventy-five years,” she said. “It’s a special, special place.”

“But we’re having only about thirty people,” Mary-Katie said. “Are you sure, Miles? This is what you want?” She reached for his hand. When his fingers wrapped around hers, they felt warm and she relaxed some.

“It’s for you,” he said. “How beautiful are you going to look standing up there in your dress?”

“This is a rare opportunity,” the woman said. “We allow only a certain number of weddings each year.”

Mary-Katie bit at the inside of her lip as she looked up at the gold crucifix above the altar. This church was nothing like the simple Methodist chapel back home in which she’d always thought she would be married. And her grandmother had been disappointed that the wedding would take place in Charleston, so far away from home.

“You know you want to, Mary-Katie,” Miles said, pulling her closer to him. “Indulge yourself. Or at least let me indulge you.”

It wasn’t at all what she wanted, but she could tell by the hopeful way he was looking at her, urging her on, that it was definitely what he wanted. Why, she didn’t know. His guests were all business associates. He didn’t even have any family coming, and that made her feel a little sorry for him. But then, her grandmother was her only family to speak of. No one knew where her father was, or if he was even alive.

And so six weeks later she found herself standing at the altar rail of Holy Saints Episcopal Church wearing the most expensive dress she’d ever owned, Miles holding her right hand in his as she pledged to love and honor him for the rest of her life. She knew without looking behind her that her grandmother was quietly weeping with what Mary-Katie hoped was happiness. The collection of saints looked down from their windows with mute indifference.

Even much later, when any thoughts of Miles were tinged with hate and fear, she couldn’t look back on their wedding and honeymoon without a degree of grudging appreciation. They had been perfect. No,
perfect
wasn’t quite the word. They had been surreal in their measured beauty.

As Mary-Katie walked slowly down the aisle, her arm linked with her grandmother’s, the church was filled with mellow sunlight and the scent of two hundred white lilies. Miles stood at the front of the church, waiting for her, wearing a smile of absolute certainty and pleasure. She felt beloved. Treasured.

The reception was a seated dinner in an intimate room at a downtown club to which Miles belonged. Champagne sparkled in the crystal flutes that Miles’s friends (she had thought them friends then, and didn’t know them to be interested parties, associates who would’ve just as soon killed Miles as dined with him) raised to toast her beauty and cleverness at capturing Miles’s heart.

Hawaii, too, was like a dream. They stayed for several days at a ranch in the mountains, taking long hikes, riding horses (Miles surprised her with how firmly he seemed to take charge of his horse, even though he’d had little riding experience), and eating amazing gourmet meals made with foods she’d never even known existed. There was another week at the beach, where she was shy in the revealing bikinis that Miles had purchased and hidden in her suitcase as a surprise. They took picture after picture, of the sunset, of the beach, of each other. At night they made love with the doors and windows of their bungalow open to the dark and the soothing, constant waves. She couldn’t have made up a more perfect two weeks spent with the man she loved.

If she was annoyed with the way Miles insisted on ordering for her at lunch, or suggested what bathing suit or dress would look best on her that day, or told her how to hold her tennis racquet even though she’d been playing regularly since she was ten, she didn’t tell him. In truth, she was more amused than anything else. Still dazed by the beauty of her wedding, the beauty of the islands, the devotion he showed to her, she let it go. Then there was the glittering diamond on her left hand with its matching diamond-encircled band. She was almost used to wearing it, though at first she’d felt like she was brandishing a doorknob. Yes, adjustments had to be made.

Off and on during the flight home she caught Miles smiling to himself.

“What is it?” she asked him. “Do I look funny or something?” She smoothed her hair, took out a compact and checked the mirror, looking critically at what she saw there.

“You’re perfect,” he said. “When you get out of bed in the morning, you’re perfect.”

“Then you have to tell me,” she said.

“No,” he said. “I can’t. But you’re going to love it. I promise.”

The next day, Sunday, she left their condo to drive out to her grandmother’s house in Beaufort. Inside the tote bag she’d purchased at the hotel were presents for her grandmother—some hand-painted jewelry, a new woven handbag, and a black caftan trimmed with delicate, hand-embroidered shells—and thick packets of the photos she’d just picked up at the one-hour photo place. Miles had stayed behind to get caught up on some work and sent his love.

Mary-Katie had been surprised at the easy rapport between her grandmother and Miles. He flirted with her, but she took it graciously, as a compliment. They both had a fondness for college basketball, which bored Mary-Katie to tears. He was also helpful around the house, tacking up a loose gutter, power washing the back fence, finding a good contractor to repave the driveway.

He hadn’t seemed the type to Mary-Katie to get out and do things like that for himself. He wore fine Italian shoes and hand-tailored sport coats (only lawyers and the occasional bankers wore suits on the island). The palms of his hands and fingers were smooth. Her grandmother had tweaked him about his fondness for jewelry, his wardrobe of watches, his gold pinky ring, the heavy gold bracelet he wore on his right wrist. But he was good-natured about it and even bought her a bracelet similar to his for her birthday.

On letting herself into the house, Mary-Katie found her grandmother in bed, too weak to get herself breakfast or lunch.

“Why didn’t you call me?” she asked, setting a tray with a quickly assembled omelet, toast, and a glass of juice on it on the bed. “I would’ve come back in an instant.”

“Don’t fuss,” Katherine said. “There’s nothing wrong with me that a couple days’ rest won’t cure. I wasn’t about to interrupt your honeymoon. Marriage is hard enough without old ladies butting in.”

Mary-Katie scolded her again. But Katherine soon got her talking about Hawaii. Mary-Katie got out the pictures and they spent the next few minutes looking over them.

“I probably should have given you that birds and bees talk one more time,” Katherine said playfully. “But it looks like you two got to know each other pretty well.”

Mary-Katie laughed, blushing a little. Sex with Miles was incredible. He pushed her to do things she had never done before. Some of them had made her a little uncomfortable, but she had to admit that they thrilled her. “We did okay,” she said.

Katherine took Mary-Katie’s hand in her own slender and wrinkled one. “I want you to tell me if he’s ever not good to you, child. Anything you need from me, you tell me,” she said.

As she drove home, Mary-Katie wondered if her grandmother knew or suspected something about Miles that she hadn’t, if he’d given her some hint of darkness inside him that she herself had missed. But no other mention of it passed between them, and she decided that it was just something a grandmother was supposed to say.

She found Miles in the small bedroom he used as a second office. He was concentrating so deeply on the papers in front of him that he didn’t hear her when she first came in. Miles’s focus could be intense, as though he imagined that by focusing all of his energy on one thing, he could control it. She wasn’t sure what it was that he did to earn his living, but she knew that he dealt with a lot of real estate and that all the energy he put into it paid off. Their condo, which was just a few blocks from the beach, wasn’t one of the hastily constructed ones that had been built for snowbirds or time-shares. And he was already talking about a new house for the two of them.

“Hey,” she said quietly.

Miles shifted his gaze to her in the doorway, his eyes blank, as though he were thinking hard about something. But after a moment he smiled.

“Hey, yourself,” he said. “How’s Katherine? What’s wrong?”

Mary-Katie told him about finding her in bed. “I don’t think she’s well,” she said. “And she’s alone all the time now.”

Miles came around the desk. “Listen,” he said. “I was going to wait until tonight when we go to dinner, but I think it’s better if I tell you now.”

He took both of her hands in his.

“What is it?” she asked. She’d forgotten about the surprise, and even though his timing was peculiar, she was still curious.

“You can have all the time you need with her,” Miles said. “You’re not going back to work tomorrow.”

“Of course I have to go back to work, Miles,” she said. “I’ve used up all my vacation for the year. I barely have any sick days left.”

“No. You don’t need any more sick days or vacation days,” he said. “I called the bank two days after we got to Hawaii and told them you weren’t coming back. It was a shit job, and you don’t need to be there anymore.”

Mary-Katie was speechless, a hundred thoughts crowding her head at once. Sure, being a bank teller wasn’t much of a career, particularly for someone with a college degree, but she would have been promoted soon enough. Unlike most of the young women she worked with, she’d never dreamed of marrying a wealthy man and hanging around the house, maybe raising a couple of kids. (Though she did want a child. Miles had been noncommittal so far, but she was sure she could change his mind.) She had always had a job, since she turned sixteen and wanted money for a car. But most of all she was shocked at his audacity at making the decision for her.

“That can’t even be legal, Miles,” she said. “They just let you quit my job for me?”

He wasn’t smiling now as broadly as he had been. “Your boss sounded happy for you, Mary-Katie. She knows you’re much better off not working there.”

“I can’t believe this,” she said. She sat down on the edge of a nearby chair, careful not to dislodge the piles of paper there.

“I tell you that you have all the time in the world to spend with your sick grandmother and you’re pissed off?” he said, suddenly loud. “You can sit home on your ass and eat fucking bon-bons all day and that’s okay with me because I want you to be happy and you’re pissed off?” He stared down at her, and she felt the full force of his anger and disappointment in her. But she was unmoved.

“It was my job, Miles. It wasn’t yours to quit.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable,” he said.

“Don’t curse at me,” she said.

“Don’t worry,” he said. He left the room.

Mary-Katie’s heart was pounding. She had seen Miles angry, but never so angry with her. It just didn’t make sense. She was the one who had been wronged. She was the one who’d had her job taken from her.

She spent the rest of the day in the silent condo. When Miles didn’t come back at dinnertime, she made herself a grilled cheese sandwich with some stale bread she found in the refrigerator. At midnight she went to bed alone.

When the alarm shattered the sleep she’d finally found a couple of hours before dawn, Mary-Katie reached across the bed and fumbled for the Off button. Knowing it was Monday, her mind immediately went to her routine, and she started to think about what she would wear to work. Then the reality of the day before washed over her. She looked over to Miles’s unwrinkled pillow to see that he had never come to bed. She lay there several minutes, desperately wanting not to get out of bed, to face the day.