Lilac Avenue (23 page)

Claire dragged a laundry folding table over to the bottom of the stairway and covered it with a clean white tablecloth. This would be the spa check-in desk. She stacked freshly laundered white hand towels on the table and lined up some massage oils and bath salts to sell.

“A cash box,” she said out loud. “I need a cash box.”

She added that to her list, and wondered what else she had forgotten.

She filled the commercial washing machines with the first load of white sheets and added some washing powder. If she could snag them out of the dryer fast enough
, maybe she wouldn’t have to iron them all.

“Clothes pins,” she said, and added that item to her list.

She called Sonny, who said he would bring all the clothes pins he had, plus a cash box.

Claire unpacked the rest of the boxes and made organized piles of all the supplies. She wrestled with one of the massage tables for several minutes before she realized she had
put one piece on backward. As soon as she got that corrected the table assembled pretty easily. The other seven would surely be much easier after the first.

Eventually
, Sonny showed up with what looked like a million pieces of white PVC pipe. Claire was worried until she saw how fast he assembled the first “tent” scaffolding. They were so light that Claire was able to move them around in several configurations until she had them all where she wanted them. She put the sheets in the dryers, and then rolled out the white rugs she had purchased for the floors of the tents. After Sonny finished putting together the scaffolding he started assembling the remaining massage tables.

“I wasn’t sure you knew what you were doing,” Sonny said. “But
it sure looks like you do.”

“Thanks,” Claire said.

Claire’s phone rang, and it was Dreama at Starlina’s Bridal, letting her know the dresses were ready.

“Thanks,” Claire said. “I’ll pick them up before you close today.”

“You got a lot going on,” Sonny said. “Anything else I can do to help?”

Claire gave him some cash and as
ked him to go to the bank to get change.

“Glad to help out,” Sonny said. “This is darn interesting. I’ve never been in a spa before.”

Claire was breaking down the empty boxes and stacking them near the back door when the dryer buzzers began to go off. She hurriedly removed the sheets from each dryer and pinned them to the clothes lines in the laundry room. She thought they probably looked good enough that she wouldn’t have to iron them, and for that she was glad. Ironing that many sheets would take all night. With a seam ripper she had borrowed from her mother, she picked open the end seams of the wide top hem of all the sheets in order to make long drapery-like pockets.

She then stood on a step stool, pulled the top pipe away from the corner connector, and slid the sheet hem down the pipe, just as if it were a curtain rod. Once she re-affixed the pipe into its corner connector, the sheet hung to exactly the right length, just brushing the floor. Once all four sheet walls were in place she drew back the front piece and draped it to the side, affixing it with a clothes pin. She centered the rug, dragged the massage table in, and sat it up on the rug. She used a folding chair as a makeshift table for the supplies each masseuse would need.

Claire was just starting the third tent when Sonny returned with money for the cash box. He helped her set up the others. By the time they finished the eighth tent Claire was damp with perspiration and her arms were sore. Her stomach was still a little queasy and she realized she hadn’t eaten in a long time. She found a box of soda crackers in the kitchen supply closet and ate a few, just enough to settle her stomach.

“You nervous?” Sonny asked her.

“Yes,” she said, but she wasn’t sure what she was more nervous about, the spa, the wedding, or the fact that within twenty-four hours she would see Carlyle. She was very glad she had undergone her morning of beauty recently. There would be nothing worse than having scratchy legs and a mustache when reuniting with the love of your life.

Claire showe
d Sonny how she wanted the spotlights to be affixed. He helped her run the extension cords and tape them in place.

“You think the fuse box can handle this?” she asked him.

Sonny examined the fuse box and pronounced it adequate.

Once everything was set up, Claire was pleased with how it looked. There were enough rugs scattered about that no one had to walk on concrete, and the white tents and soft lights helped alleviate the industrial green wall color that could still be seen. She turned off the fluorescent overhead lights and the whole basement was transformed into an angelic gypsy encampment.

“How’d you learn to do this?” Sonny asked.

“I’ve never done it before,” Claire said. “I just pictured it in my head and figured out what would work.”

Sonny took some cell phone photos, and then one of him and Claire posed in front of one of the tents. She thanked him as he left.

“Be sure to put your labor
charges on that credit card bill as well,” she said.

“That Anne Marie’s credit card?” he asked.

Claire nodded.

“Then I sure will,” he said.

Claire was still breaking down boxes for the recycle bin when Jeremy and Anne Marie came downstairs. Anne Marie looked everything over with a critical eye.

“You’ve certainly been busy,” Jeremy said. “It looks great.”

“It will have to do, I guess,” Anne Marie said.

Claire felt her blood boil up at the marked lack of enthusiasm.

“I only had twenty-four hours,” Claire said. “I think it’s fine.”

“My standards are well beyond fine,” Anne Marie said. “I hope the massage therapists are good, at least, to make up for the surroundings.”

Claire’s temper flared, but she checked herself.

“I’m sure they’ll be wonderful,” Jeremy said in his sweet minister voice, seeking to calm troubled waters. “You did a great job in record time, Claire, considering what you had to work with.”

“I think it shows a distinct lack of imagination,” Anne Marie said. “When I think of what I envisioned and then see what you produced, well, frankly, I’m terribly disappointed. I expected more from you, Claire.”

“I’m sorry you don’t like it,” Claire said steadily, but her voice trembled.

“It’s fine,” Jeremy said. “Really, Claire, it’s just fine.”

“I think Claire, that I’ll need to rethink my plans to put you in charge of the spa,” Anne Marie said. “I certainly hope the services my people receive are above par.”

Claire was quaking she was so angry.

“I always follow through on my commitments,” Claire said. “I’ll make sure everything goes well for your weekend, but beyond that, I’m no longer interested in working for you.”

“It’s just as well,” Anne Marie said. “Even though Sloan’s not likely to let your boyfriend go, you’ll run off after him anyway.”

“How do you know about that?”

“I’m psychic, darling,” Anne Marie snarled. “Haven’t you heard?”

“Sloan’s also a client of yours,” Claire said. “I’m sure she told you all about it.”

“Client confidentiality,” Anne Marie said. “I can’t tell you a thing.”

“You don’t need to,” Claire said.

“Ladies,” Jeremy said. “Let’s not have words we’ll regret.”

“I’m going up to take a nap,” Anne Marie said, and flounced out of the room. “Jeremy? Are you coming?”

After Anne Marie disappeared up the stairs, Jeremy turned to Claire.

“It’s fine,” he said. “She gets like this before a seminar; nervous, high strung, and nothing pleases her. But it’s really all fine. Everyone will rave about it and then you’ll be teacher’s pet again. Don’t worry about it. Please.”

“Jeremy!” Anne Marie called. “I’m waiting.”

Jeremy left.
Claire felt deflated and hurt. She looked around at her soft white gypsy encampment and it suddenly looked tacky to her eyes. Sloan’s constant derision had always had the same effect on her.

Determined to see the project through, Claire took her anger out on the boxes she still had to deconstruct. It was amazing what a box cutter on cardboard could do for one’s disposition. She dragged the cardboard out in multiple trips, and stowed it in the recycling dumpster.

On her last trip she saw Anne Marie walking down Morning Glory Avenue toward Knox’s house. Claire ducked down, ran through the park, and then crossed Pine Mountain Road, keeping back far enough she hoped Anne Marie wouldn’t notice her.

Anne Marie paused to let a Machalvie’s Funeral Home limo go ahead of her up Knox’s steep driveway, and then she followed it. Claire was standing behind a tree, across the street from the house, trying to decide what to do, when Scott drove the police cruiser up the street and stopped in front of her. As Claire approached the car, the passenger side window went down.

“Are you doing surveillance?” he asked with a grin.

“Kind of,” Claire said. “Are you going up?”

“I’ve got no reason to be up there,” he said. “It’s private family business and so far I don’t have any warrants.”

“I was trying to think of a plausible reason to go up there,” Claire said.

“Get in,” Scott said. “We can cruise around town until they’re done and then follow somebody, make ‘em nervous.”

Claire got in the police cruiser and fastened her seatbelt.
It was then she remembered the dresses.

“Hey,” she said. “You wanna help me do something?”

“Sure,” he said.

“I need to pick up the dresses in Pendleton and the place closes in twenty minutes.”

“No problem,” Scott said, and turned on the cruiser’s flashing lights.

After they picked up the dresses, Scott stopped at Claire’s parents’ house, where she stowed everything in her bedroom. Scott drove her back up to Morning Glory Avenue. Cars were leaving Knox’s house, and Claire was surprised to see Hannah walking down Knox’s steep driveway. She was dressed in the black pants and white shirt of a cater waiter.

“What has she been up to?” Scott said.

“Spying,” Claire said. “Awesome, wonderful spying.”

When Hannah spotted them, she waved and ran over to the car. Scott unlocked the back door and she climbed in. Scott drove down to Morning Glory Circle, pulled in Mamie’s driveway, parked, and turned around in his seat.

“Well?” he asked.

“The shrimp puffs were really good,” Hannah said. “But nobody liked the Brie boats. I can’t understand it. I ate about a dozen of those.”

“Hannah,” Claire said. “What happened?”

“Okay, brace yourselves, ‘cause here’s the shocker: the house and everything she owned has to be sold, and after her debts are paid off, what’s left goes to Phyllis Davis,” Hannah said. “Why in the world she would leave anything to that crazy hooker, I don’t know. Knox was fit to be tied; he’s gonna contest it.”

Claire and Scott exchanged a look
but they didn’t tell Hannah what they knew.

Hannah continued, “
Everyone thought Mamie was broke but she wasn’t. Her trust fund has over ten million in it; that gets split up among the heirs. If she wasn’t broke, then why did she quit paying her bills?”

“And why was she so behind on her mortgage payments?” Scott asked.

“You know,” Claire said. “Doc told me one of the signs of dementia is paranoia over money. Maybe all that hoarding of her money and not paying her bills was part of a mental problem she had.”

“She was mental,
all right,” Hannah said. “Why else would she leave all her dough to Phyllis Davis?”

“What else?” Scott asked.

“Let’s see,” Hannah said. “Oh yeah, evidently, there were some life insurance policies that left some money to Knox and both his wives.”

“Anne Marie and Meredith?” Claire said.

Claire looked at Scott but he didn’t look surprised.

“You knew about this,” she said.

He nodded.

“There’s your motive,” Claire said.

“But where’s my proof?” he said. “I don’t even know what killed Mamie. She was in her nineties, Claire. She probably had a heart attack or a stroke.”

“This is where Knox
is getting the money to pay off Courtenay for notarizing the signatures on the policies,” Claire said. “I bet you anything if you could get a look at that policy it will be Courtenay’s notary seal and signature on them.”

“If Mamie died of natural causes
, there will be no reason to subpoena the insurance policies,” Scott said. “If she was poisoned, no money will be paid out.”

“They’re not giving them the checks until the coroner’s report comes back,” Hannah said. “I heard Anne Marie bitching at the insurance agent about it.”

“Is the agent anyone we know?” Claire asked her.

“I didn’t recognize him,” Hannah said. “He’s not from around here.”

“Dammit,” Claire said.

“Welcome to my world,” Scott said. “Unless I can prove somebody committed a crime, I can’t do anything.”