Lilac Avenue (22 page)

As a result of having many of his nefarious activities brought to light, Knox
had lost his job along with any chance he had to run for political office, and now faced the very real possibility of both financial ruin and imprisonment. Although Scott had all the aforementioned reasons to despise Knox Rodefeffer, the murder of his Aunt Mamie, even with all her many foibles, faults, and character flaws, was the one act for which Scott now actively hated the man. Scott was determined Knox would not get away with it. Not in his town, not right under his nose.

Scott was surprised to see Anne Marie arrive, and even more surprised to see her take a seat next to the ex-husband who had tried to kill her three years before. She was dressed in a navy blue dress suit with a white blouse, and navy and white pumps. Gone was the new age guru dressed in flowing garments, and back was the society wife she had been all the years she was married to Knox. When Knox put his arm around the back of Ann Marie’s chair, she didn’t seem to mind. They conferred quietly about something, and she rested a comforting hand upon his
knee. It was a very interesting display to the room, and confirmed to Scott that whatever was going on, these two were deep in cahoots.

Marigold Lar
son arrived in a dither, hugged Peg, shook hands with the bereaved family, and sat down on the other side of Trick. She then looked back over her shoulder to see who was in the crowd, so they could witness her prominent position at the funeral, and waved to one of her bridge-playing friends. She made eye contact with Scott, frowned, and curled her lip before she turned around.

Peg Machalvie closed the doors to the room and somewhere, someone stopped the organ music. Father Stephen was not performing the service, even though he had been Mamie’s priest for
more than thirty years. He had not, in fact, even been invited to attend. Instead, Mayor Stuart Machalvie stood up and went to the podium at the front of the room.

Stuart thanked the assembled for coming. He said how sorry he was to his good friends Knox and Richard, and their families, for the loss of their beloved Aunt Mary Margaret. He then went on to extol the virtues of the Rodefeffer family, and to trace their history in Rose Hill from the time Gustav left Germany until the present day. He glorified the glass factory and all the local people it employed. He did not mention anything unsavory, or embarrassing, and he did not claim virtues for Mamie that she did not possess. In fact, he barely mentioned her. Scott quickly perceived that, instead of a eulogy, this was a speech in support of his old friend and partner in crime, Knox Rodefeffer. He was reminding the people in the room who Knox was, why he was important, why he deserved their respect, and why he would always be better than they were.

At the very end he came close to mentioning Mamie by saying, “The last of the old guard has now passed away, leaving the young to continue the family legacy.”

‘Legacy of what?’ Scott wondered. ‘Lies and manipulation?
Coercion and victimization? Blackmail? Murder?’

Before
Stuart stepped down, he mentioned that the reception was for family only, which Scott took to mean that he and the rest of the peasants were not welcome. Stuart shook Knox’s hand, ignored Trick, and went to stand next to his wife, Peg, who had remained by the doorway. The organ music then swelled majestically as the hired pallbearers lifted Mamie’s casket and took it out the side door to the waiting hearse.

A strange, strangled noise arose from the front row, and Scott craned his neck just in time to see Trick vomit right onto Marigold’s lap. Marigold shrieked. Peg ran forward,
and then held a hand over her nose. Stuart ran out and returned with a roll of paper towels, and then helped Knox remove his brother to the outer hallway. Peg took a wailing Marigold to what Scott assumed would be the nearest restroom. That left former sisters-in-law Anne Marie and Sandy alone in the front row. After an awkward pause, they shared a hug and cheek kiss where no flesh actually made contact, and then both fled the room.

Scott waited until everyone had vacated the room before he left, not wanting to speak with anyone, or maybe not trusting himself to speak with anyone, lest he say something he would regret. The room was filled with a multitude of arrangements of lilies, the perfume of which was so
strong that Scott felt the drumbeat of an approaching migraine in his head. He left the funeral home, went back to the station, retrieved a prescription bottle of pills from his desk drawer, and took a migraine pill.

After Claire left Maggie and Hannah at Starlina’s, she
had to drive faster than was legal to make it back to the Inn by three o’clock. At the entrance to town there was a traffic jam near the funeral home. There were so many cars at Machalvie’s Funeral Home that they were parked all the way up and down Rose Hill Avenue and Peony Street. Claire wished she could go to the funeral, if only to observe Knox’s ex-wives at close range.

When she reached the Inn
, there was a bus parked out in front, with multiple people disembarking. Claire parked around back and hurried in through the kitchen. There was a new clerk on duty at the Inn, and as she didn’t know Claire, she was not predisposed to do her any favors. She did however, let Claire stow her handbag under the front desk.

“I’m a little busy,”
the woman said pointedly, which was true.

Guests for the weekend seminar were checking in, and Claire listened in on their conversations as they waited to be assisted. They were all middle-aged to senior-aged women, and there was a giddy, expectant atmosphere among them.

“This is my first seminar with Anne Marie,” she heard one say. “My husband is not happy about me being here, but I told him it’s my money and if I want to spend it this way, I can and I will.”

“I only have to do two more seminars before I receive my life coach accreditation,” another said. “Anne Marie thinks I have a real gift for it.”

“Does everyone get a reading?” another asked. “I’m really hoping to speak to my mother; she passed last year very suddenly, and we didn’t get the closure we needed.”

Claire sidled around to the back of the crowd and watched out the front window as Jeremy, with his white suit, white hair and bright white teeth, greeted some guests on the front porch. His demeanor was that of a kindly preacher as he pressed their hands between his and beamed at them.

A woman dressed all in flowing white approached Claire and beamed at her.

“Are you here for the seminar?” she said, in a melodious manner.

Her hologram heart badge had the name “Joy Heartsong” on it.

“No,” Claire said, and introduced herself. “Actually I’m working for Anne Marie.”

The woman’s demeanor immediately changed, and a hard light appeared in her eyes.

“I beg your pardon,” she said. “If you worked for Anne Marie
, I would know about it. Why are you really here?”

“No, seriously,” Claire said, amused by Joy’s quick change from light and love to fierce she-wolf. “Ask Jeremy; he’ll tell you.”

“I certainly will,” Joy said, and marched herself right out front to interrupt Jeremy, who was speaking to a seminar attendee.

Claire watched as Jeremy politely excused himself from the person with whom he was so rudely interrupted, and saw the harassed, irritated look on his face as he took the woman dressed in white aside to speak with her. Joy Heartsong was more than a little irritated; she was almost in tears. Claire wondered what the drama was all about, but was not that interested. This was a temp job at best.

Claire’s phone twinkled. It was a text from Carlyle.

“ETA Fri @ 7 pm” it read.

Claire texted back, “Can’t wait.”

When she looked back up, Jeremy was entering the front room with Joy in tow. Joy’s mouth was set in a hard line, and her face was flushed. Claire then noticed other women dressed as Joy was, in flowing white, meandering among the crowd, talking to the attendees. They were all positively beaming, which made Joy’s unhappiness all the more apparent. Jeremy gestured to Claire to follow them, so Claire followed them back into the breakfast nook where she had worked earlier. Now it was filled with more women in white, processing paperwork and talking on cell phones with laptops open in front of each of them. There seemed to be stations set up that each attendee had to pass through in order to get checked into the seminar. The room was loud with the voices of many women.

As they passed one table, Claire heard an attendee ask, “Why do I have to sign this? I’m not comfortable signing anything like this without my attorney reading it.”

The woman in white responded in a kind, mellifluous tone, “It’s just something the insurance company requires. I completely understand if you don’t want to sign it, but you can’t attend without signing it, and I’m not authorized to let you take it away. There are other people waiting, so you need to decide now.”

Claire could see the attendee debating signing the form. Probably in her work life this woman would never in a million years sign something like that, multiple pages all written in legalese, without having an attorney review it first. She was trapped, in a way, so far from home, in a line of impatient people all apparently willing to sign immediately, without hesitation.

“I don’t think Anne Marie would ever do anything to hurt anyone,” the woman behind her in line said. “She’s like an angel walking here on earth.”

“Oh, what the hell,” the woman finally said, and was taking the pen from the woman in white as Claire followed Jeremy and Joy into the kitchen.

“Okay, Joy, this is Claire, Claire this is Joy,” Jeremy said.

Gone was the kindly preacher demeanor and the thousand-watt smile. In its place was a lined forehead and shadows under his eyes. Under his minty fresh breath Claire thought she could detect a hint of something decidedly more alcoholic.

“I apologize that you weren’t informed of the change in staff,” he said to Joy. “Things happen fast sometimes, as you are well aware, and Claire just started yesterday.”

“I am to be informed of any changes in staffing,” Joy said, and she was so upset Claire thought she might even cry. “She does this all the time, Jeremy, and I’m just about to the end of my rope.”

“I understand,” Jeremy said. “Believe me, I get it, I do. But here we are. Claire’s setting up a spa in the basement, and I found out about it while you were literally in the air yesterday. Things have been crazy, as usual.”

“Have you been through orientation?” she asked Claire, who shook her head.

“Have you signed any paperwork?” she asked, and Claire again shook her head.

Joy wiped her face with both her hands, and Claire reflected that it was a good thing she wasn’t wearing any makeup, or it would be all over her face. Joy also had deep shadows under her eyes, and her face sagged with what looked like profound weariness.

“I don’t have time for this,” she said to Jeremy.

She looked at Claire as if she were a criminal. She pointed her finger right into Claire’s face and her facial expression was full of pure contempt.

“Before this day is over,” J
oy said slowly, as if Claire were simple. “You must find me and ask me for your new hire paperwork. Do you understand?”

Claire nodded.

“She’s not covered by the insurance,” Joy said to Jeremy. “And neither will the spa staff be until they sign the new hire paperwork.”

“I know,” Jeremy said.

“She cannot attend the seminar without paperwork,” Joy said. “And without orientation she won’t know what to do when one of them passes out or freaks out.”

“She won’t be attending the seminar,” Jeremy said. “She’ll be in the basement.”

Joy threw up her hands, turned and left the kitchen, stomping her feet as she went. Jeremy rolled his eyes and winked at Claire.

“Welcome aboard, kid,” he said. “Every teapot has a tempest, and that was the head teapot.”

“I guess so,” Claire said. “How many people are attending this thing?”

“Last count was seventy-four,” Jeremy said. “We expect 26 more by tomorrow morning.”

“Where will they all sleep?” Claire asked. “I didn’t think the Inn was that big.”

“They’re doubling up,” Jeremy said. “They don’t mind it; it’s like a slumber party for them.”

Claire thought she detected a little condescension in his tone, but she let it pass. Claire herself was known to use that tone when she referred to Sloan Merryweather’s fans. Working for Anne Marie was turning out to be a lot like that.

“Well, back to work,” Jeremy said.

Claire checked her watch and then called the delivery company. The person she finally spoke to, after she navigated a labyrinth of questions with numeric answers, assured her that the packages were out for delivery. Claire walked around the back of the Inn in order to avoid the crush of attendees. Out on the driveway next to a side porch some Inn staff members were smoking cigarettes. They knew Claire.

“Who are these people?” one asked. “They’re like witches or something, right?”

“No, nothing like that,” Claire said. “More like meditation and positive thoughts.”

Claire spotted the delivery van and sprinted off the side porch to meet it in the circular front drive. She waved the driver over to park next to the side entrance, and fetched her hand cart from the basement. Once again she ticked each package off the list as he unloaded it, and then she signed for them all. It took her four trips to get them all into the basement, and then she began opening and unpacking them. Thankfully there was no breakage among the bottles of massage oils.