Lilac Avenue (19 page)

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Authors: Pamela Grandstaff

BOOK: Lilac Avenue
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“What did you think of Gwyneth Eldridge?”

“You’re on the team now,” he said. “You’ll soon get to recognize the type of people we attract. They’re intelligent people, for the most part, but longing for someone to tell them what to do, although they’d never admit it. Some have been raised in wealthy families, where everything they could possibly want from the material world has been handed to them, so they’re looking for something to feed their spiritual hunger. Some have achieved all of their professional goals and are asking themselves ‘Now what? Who am I? What do I do now?’ Some have just never fit into our patriarchal, capitalistic society, and they’re looking for a place where they can belong. They’re all lost in some way, and need somewhere to be and something to do. We give them a sense of purpose and meaningful work. It’s really as simple as that. Gwyneth’s no different.”

Claire
promised to call if she needed anything. She found a quiet spot in the breakfast nook back by the commercial kitchen and took out her electronic tablet. Within an hour she had ordered everything she needed to be shipped overnight. Now she just needed some licensed massage therapists and a Reiki master. She took out her cell phone and started dialing. She knew of a prestigious organization in New York that represented independent, licensed massage therapists. After requesting seven massage therapists and one Reiki Master, and paying up front for their services, she whipped up a basic contract and emailed it to the office manager. Then she arranged their flights to and car service from the Pittsburgh Airport, and reserved their rooms at the Rose Hill B&B, which was owned by her cousin-in-law Ava.

Claire walked down to
the hardware store to talk to Sonny, the owner. She described the PVC pipe scaffolding she needed constructed to create the tent treatment rooms, and he helped her sketch it out on quadrille paper.

“No problem,” he said. “I’ll go up and measure for you this afternoo
n. I can cut everything tonight and install it tomorrow.”

Claire left the hardware store and ran into Scott leaving the police station.

“Hey,” she said. “I need to talk to you.”

They went back in his office and sat down. Claire told him about Meredith, Anne Marie, and Courtenay.

“So you think Anne Marie is paying off Courtenay with part of the money?”

“And do you remember that Meredith confessed to poisoning her husband?”

“Wasn’t admissible,” he said. “But I’ll remind Sarah.”

“All three women might be working together,” Claire said. “I don’t know how that could come about, but it’s too big of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

“Are you sure you ought to be working for someone you think might be involved in a murder?”

“I don’t know that for sure,” Claire said. “Besides, I can keep an eye on them and let you know if I hear anything else.”

“I know it’s useless to tell you, Hannah, or Maggie to stay out of something,” Scott said. “Just promise me you won’t let them poison you.”

“I won’t drink
anything they offer, I promise,” Claire said. “How’s the investigation going?”

“I can’t talk about it,” he said. “Not that there’s much to talk about.”

Claire left the station and went home for dinner. Her father was sitting in his recliner and her mother was cooking in the kitchen.

“Watch out,” Delia said. “He’s in a foul mood.”

When Ian came to the table, he had the air of someone greatly injured.

“I want you both to know I have decided to give your mother a divorce,” he said.

“Oh, Dad,” Claire said. “There’s nothing going on between Mom and Doc Machalvie. I promise you.”

“I know what I’ve been told,” he said. “And I’ve seen them together with my own eyes. I know you think I’m crazy but I’m not a fool. I know it’s true.”

“It must be awful to believe that,” Delia said to Ian. “It must be horrible to think I could do that to you.”

“It is horrible,” he said. “It’s the worst thing that has ever happened to me.”

“If you want a divorce, I won’t stop you,” Delia said. “But I wish you’d give me another chance instead.”

“Mom,” Claire said, but Delia held her hand up.

“I don’t want that man in this house again,” Ian said.

“Okay,” Delia said. “He will never come to the house again.”

“And you can’t sneak off and see him,” Ian said.

“I won’t,” Delia said.

“I wish I could believe you,” Ian said.

“She won’t,” Claire said. “Because she never did.”

“You covered for her last time,” he said to Claire. “I can’t trust you anymore.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Claire said. “This is crazy.”

“I won’t see him,” Delia said to Ian, taking his hand in hers. “So there’s no need for anyone to get divorced.”

“I’m glad that’s settled,” Ian said. “Now let’s eat. The food’s getting cold.”

Claire had lost her appetite, but she stayed at the table to make strained small talk with her mother. After her father finished his dinner and went back to his recliner, she waved at her mother.

“Hey you, crazy lady,” Claire said. “Why did you just do that?”

“All I want is to have peace in this house,” Delia said. “If going along with it gives him peace, then I don’t care about the truth. I’d rather lie and have peace than shout the truth and have bedlam.”

“It’s only going to get worse,” Claire said.

“I know that, Claire,” Delia said. “But tonight, we have peace.”

 

 

Maggie was already in a booth, alone, when Claire arrived at the Rose and Thorn.

“Where is everybody?” Claire asked.

“Scott’s working, Hannah and Sam are home with Sammy,
who has a temperature, and Ed’s coming later.”

“Oh well, I wasn’t really in the mood to play anyway.”

“I know you called your ex,” Maggie said. “Now convince me why that was not a big mistake.”

“Maybe it was,” Claire said. “But it was good to hear his voice.”

“You’re too nice for your own good,” Maggie said. “People just walk all over you.”

Claire told Maggie about Denise closing the salon, and about working for Anne Marie.

“She’s insane,” Maggie said. “All that hoodoo-voodoo rubbish is just a con game.”

“Maybe,” Claire said. “At least I have something to do.”

“Well, be careful,” Maggie said. “If you start talking about rainbows and good vibrations, I’ll have you reprogrammed.”

“Maggie, why don’t you let me and Hannah plan your wedding? I know it sounds awful, but just think about it. If we do everything then nothing can be your fault.”

“I have been thinking about it,” Maggie said. “I just don’t want to be embarrassed. You know how over-the-top Hannah likes to do things.”

“I will reign her in, I promise.”

“Everyone has to think I had no idea,” Maggie said. “I don’t want to talk about it with anyone but you.”

“I promise, I promise,” Claire said. “Let’s plan everything tonight and do it Saturday night.”

“That’s too soon,” Maggie said. “You’ll never get it all together by then.”

“You don’t know what I’m capable of doing,” Claire said. “You just tell me what you want and I will make it happen.”

Claire took out her notebook and pen. Maggie frowned and bit her lip.

“First prio
rity,” Claire said as she wrote, “Maggie must not be embarrassed.”

“Good,” Maggie said. “But it’s okay if my mother is.”

By ten o’clock, Claire had multiple pages of instructions from Maggie.

“This is good,” Claire said. “You’ve obviously been thinking a lot about this.”

“As long as no one else ever knows that,” Maggie said.

“I think you should tell Scott,” Claire said.

“He’s terrible at keeping secrets,” Maggie said.

“He’s the chief of police,” Claire said. “Isn’t that part of his job?”

“I love Scott,” Maggie said. “But I know his limitations.”

“The only thing I’ll need for you to do is try on a dress tomorrow.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes,” Claire said. “But don’t worry; I am an excellent stylist and I will not let you fail.”

“If you pull this off, you’ll be a miracle worker,” Maggie said.

“In a loving universe everything is possible,” Claire said.

“Thanks, Anne Marie,” Maggie said. “Tell me this, though: how are you going to get all these people into the church without telling them it’s for a wedding?”

“Easy peasy,” Claire said. “Hannah’s going to get Sammy baptized just before you arrive. We
’ll invite everyone to a christening and they’ll get a wedding for free. It’s like a gift with purchase, only you’ll be the free lipstick.”

“Was this Hannah’s idea?”

“Yep,” Claire said. “That’s how much she cares.”

“Poor Father Steven will be quaking in his cassock.”

“But there should be an excellent turnout,” Claire said. “Nobody who knows Sammy is going to want to miss it.”

 

 

Claire was already in bed, staring at the ceiling, when Carlyle called.

“What are you wearing?” he asked her.


T-shirt, yoga pants,” she said.

“You could at least lie for my sake,” he said. “Do you want to know what I’m wearing?”

“Lift shoes, capped teeth, and man Spanx,” Claire said. “You’ve painted quite a pretty picture in my head.”

“I’ll never live that down, this I know for a fact.”

“What’s going on?”

“I did what you told me,” he said. “I told her I needed a break, so I’m going to come see you.”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Claire said.

“She won’t know,” he said.

“I can pretty much guarantee she’ll know,” Claire said. “We’ll have to meet somewhere far from here.”

“Okay,” he said. “You name the place and I’ll meet you there.”

“Let me think about it,” Claire said. “When can you leave?”

“Friday,” he said. “I can meet you Friday night and we can spend the weekend somewhere.”

“I’m sorry,” Claire said. “That’s not going to work for me. My weekend is booked.”

“Don’t tease me,” Carlysle said. “Do you know what I went through to get this time off?”

“Sorry,” Claire said. “I’ve got a work thing Friday night and a wedding Saturday.”

“So I’ll come there.”

“You won’t if you know what a hissy fit she’ll throw.”

“I’m coming,” he said. “Send me directions from the nearest airport. Where is the nearest airport, by the way?”

“I’ll email it to you,” she said. “But don’t be surprised when she sabotages the whole thing.”

“I won’t let her,” he said. “I’m so excited to see you. You don’t know. Having this to look forward to will save my sanity.”

 

Claire sat up in bed with her electronic tablet and sent all the information to Carlyle’s drama school email address. This reminded her of something Maggie had once said about Carlysle, that dating a drama teacher was like taking crazy pills from an accurately labeled bottle. Claire smiled in the dark, in the glow from her tablet. Carlyle was certainly crazy to think Sloan would let him get away with this
, and Claire was certainly crazy to think it was a smart thing to do. The thing was she didn’t care about the fallout; she just wanted to see him.

Claire made a list of all the things she still had to do to get the Eldridge Inn spa ready, and another list for Maggie’s wedding. To anyone else this would have been cause for a sleepless night worrying about having so many balls in the air. For Claire Fitzpatrick, former assistant to high maintenance
, Hollywood actress Sloan Merryweather, it was just another day in the week. It felt good to be busy. Busy meant less time to think.

Claire was too keyed up now to sleep.
She looked through her favorite bookmarked sites and clicked on a Hollywood gossip web site she enjoyed. Because she knew so many of the people involved, along with the backstage maneuvering that took place behind the scenes, she could usually predict who was about to break through to mass appeal, who had about worn out their fans’ goodwill, and who was being set up for a big fall.

The paying audience, those who paid for movie tickets and the products associated with the stars that made them, enjoyed building someone up and then tearing that person down. Consumer sentiment shifted, rose, dove, and turned like a cloud of swallows, with the
Internet as their blue sky and the tabloids as the landscape below.

Sloan had one of the best public relations team
s in the business. When her star was rising, she was seen and heard everywhere, and appeared on the cover of every publication that mattered. When the tide turned against her, she disappeared without a sound.

“Never defend, complain, or explain,” was the team motto during those periods.

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