The Mortal Groove (25 page)

“But . . . why would he do that?”

“Because he didn't want all of the details of his romance with my daughter brought up at trial. It might not have helped his case, and it would surely have hurt his brother. On the other hand, it was the truth. People should have been told. That's my one regret, Jane. I should have gone against Ethan's wishes and told the police what I knew.”

It was a huge omission. Jane couldn't help believe that it would have had a significant impact on the outcome of the murder investigation. “I've heard that Delavon Green brought Sue home that night, sometime after midnight. Did you talk to her after she got back?”

“I'm sorry to say I didn't. I was already in bed, asleep. But Grant, my son, was out in the garage working on his car. He liked to do that when the weather was nice. He said he talked to Mr. Green briefly, but he never saw Sue.”

“So she came in, then went out again?”

“Yes, she must have.”

“Do you know why?”

Grace shook her head.

There were still things about that night that were a mystery. As much as Jane wanted to believe that she'd just heard the definitive word on who was guilty and who was innocent, she still had doubts.

“I was wondering, Grace. Do you have a photo of Sue I could look at? I've only seen one, and it wasn't very good.”

“Of course.” She pointed at a stack of old photograph albums sitting on the piano bench. “I look at them so often these days that I never get them put back in the closet. Bring me the dark green one.”

Jane found the one Grace wanted and brought it back to her.

“Sit down next to me,” said Grace, patting the couch. She opened the book and let one side fall across Jane's lap. “This album starts the Christmas before Sue died. You can see her here next to the tree. She still had on the dress she'd worn to church that morning.”

The pictures turned Jane inside out. Sue's face was impossibly soft and young. She was dark-haired, tall, with a mischievous grin you could spot a mile away.

“She was always very athletic,” said Grace, a wistful smile on her face. “She loved to swim. Ethan, he was a great swimmer, too. And they went hiking together whenever they could. They both loved the outdoors. On weekends, the summer after Randy
left, Sue would ask me to pack a picnic lunch for her and Ethan and they'd be gone for hours. I think I knew she was in love with him even before she did.”

Grace turned over a few pages. “Here she is with her brother and sister. Oh, and here's a photo of Randy and his army chums. Sue must have taken it.”

Jane felt a sudden shiver of recognition. “My God,” she whispered.

“What is it?” asked Grace, a concerned look on her face.

“That man. Larry. He's here in town. Right now.” He was the man at Big Chick's last night, the one sitting at the bar watching the basketball game.

“It is strange that he just showed up,” said Grace.

“You knew he was here?”

“He stopped by yesterday afternoon, said he was on his way up to the Twin Cities to see Randy and just wanted to pay his respects.”

“You let him in your house?”

“No, we stood in the backyard for a few minutes and talked. I was out working in the garden. I try to do a little bit of that every week. He did ask me an odd question, though. He wanted to know if anyone ever came around asking about Sue's death.”

“Did you tell him about me?”

“Yes, I hope that's not a problem. Since your call was so out of the blue, I suppose it was on my mind. He seemed to know who you were. I mean, he acted like you were friends.”

Jane got up, making a huge effort to control herself and not run like hell over to the front window. “Did you tell him we were getting together this morning?”

“You know, I didn't. There was just something about the way he looked at me. To be honest, he frightened me a little.”

Jane parted the sheers and looked outside. A new Honda Civic was parked halfway down the block. Other than that, the street was clear of both cars and people.

“Did I do something wrong?” asked Grace.

Jane scanned the street for a few more seconds, then turned around. “No, everything's fine. But I want you to promise me something. If Larry ever comes back, if there's any way you can avoid talking to him—”

“Oh, I'd already come to that conclusion.”

Jane didn't want to scare her any more than she already was, but she had to ask. “Do you usually keep your doors locked?”

“No,” she said, folding up the album. “Not always. My daughter—she lives in Des Moines now with her husband and two sons—she's always telling me I need to lock up at night. We never locked our doors when the kids were little. My husband and I couldn't even find the house key once when we were going on an extended vacation. I just don't know what this world is coming to.”

“You need to listen to your daughter,” said Jane, sitting down on the couch next to her.

“Yes, I'm sure you're right.” Thinking about it a moment more, she added, “Do you think Mr. Wilton will come back again?

“I don't know. But it's always good to be on the safe side.” Judicious counsel, thought Jane, coming from a woman who seemed incapable of taking her own advice.

 

 

T
he day after Jane and Cordelia returned from Iowa, Melanie stopped breathing. Cordelia was sitting alone by her bedside when the monitor flatlined. Even before a scream could well up inside her, the room was filled with doctors and nurses. She was told to leave, but instead, she squeezed behind a narrow curtain and watched as electric paddles were used to shock Melanie's heart back to life. Cordelia's own heart was beating like a metronome set to hypersonic.

“Breathe,” she whispered, closing her eyes and repeating the word over and over again. She peeked carefully around the curtain. The doctors were on the second round with the paddle. “Don't die on me,” she pleaded wordlessly. “Not now. Not when we've just found each other again.”

“We're back,” said one of the doctors.

Cordelia watched the blip on the monitor zip back to life.
Releasing the breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding, she said a silent prayer of thanks.

As soon as Melanie seemed stable, they moved the bed out.

“Where are you taking her?” demanded Cordelia.

“For tests,” said one of the nurses.

Within seconds, the room emptied.

Cordelia sat back down in her chair, feeling dazed.

A nurse came in a few minutes later. She told Cordelia there was fresh coffee in the waiting room.

“What I'd really like is for someone to explain what just happened in here.”

“Well,” said the nurse, “we're not sure yet. It might have been something with her lung. The knife wounds were all to the chest. It's difficult sometimes to know what's cause and what's effect.”

Which clarified exactly nothing.

Cordelia asked how long Melanie was likely to be gone and got another garbled response.

“If she's sent back to ICU, someone will come let you know.”

Cordelia sat in the silent room a while longer, then drifted out into the hall. She nodded to the bodyguard sitting by the door, explaining that Melanie might be transferred to another room. She'd let him know. And then she headed to the waiting room to call Jane.

“She flatlined.”

“No!”

“But she's okay. For now. I hid behind a curtain so they couldn't chase me out. I'm wearing my green dress. They were all so busy I figured that if one of them looked my way, they'd think I was a potted plant.”

“Ah, right,” said Jane. “I'm sure that's what they thought. Where's Melanie's mom?”

“Getting her hair done. It's the first time she's left the hospital—except to sleep at night. Poor woman. But she couldn't have known.”

“You sound kind of funny.”

“Funny how?”

“I don't know. Want me to comie down?”

“No,” said Cordelia. “I'm okay.”

“You'll call me with updates, right?”

“I think it's just going to be a long day of waiting.”

“I'll say a prayer.”

“Light a candle, too. And some incense. God, Jane, what if she dies?”

“All we can do is take it one step at a time.”

“Yeah.”

“Don't catastrophize.”

“But I'm so good at it.”

Tammy arrived back at the hospital just after one. When she came into the room and saw that the bed was gone, she almost fainted. Cordelia filled her in on what had happened, and together they sat and talked until a nurse came in and informed them that Melanie had been returned to ICU, where she could be watched more carefully.

Cordelia felt relieved that a bullet had been dodged, and yet Melanie was still in a coma, and now back in critical condition. The doctors hadn't mentioned brain damage, but when her heart had stopped beating, her brain must have been deprived of oxygen. How much abuse could one brain take?

When Tammy went down to the cafeteria to eat dinner, Cordelia stood next to Melanie's bed, kissed her softly, and then took hold of her hand.

“I'm here, babe,” she said bending down close to her ear, trying
to suck every ounce of fear out of her voice. “You're doing fine. Had a bit of a bumpy day, but the doctors say you'll be back to fighting shape in no time at all.” It was a lie, of course, but what did Melanie know?

“Jane and I were in Iowa for a few days. Believe me, it was no vacation. The motels down there are, like, on the star rating system, maybe minus three or four. The shower heads haven't been replaced since before the Civil War. I am
not
a pioneer, dear-heart, in case you'd forgotten. Hey, but when you're feeling better, we can talk about some things we found out.” She squeezed Melanie's hand, stroked her hair.

“I mean, who the hell knows what will happen to us, whether we'll be the love story of the century, or end up like we did last time—tossing verbal grenades at each other. But we deserve the chance, right? My heart is so full of you right now. All you've got to do is open your eyes. Come on, you can do that, can't you? Just a little flutter?” She straightened up to watch. “Come on, babe. Open those baby blues and tell me we'll always have Paris.”

She just knew it was going to happen.

She waited, holding her breath until she nearly passed out.

“Okay,” she said, gulping in air. “Maybe you're tired from such an exhausting day. It's okay. We'll try again tomorrow.”

 

Cordelia stayed at the hospital until just after nine that night. When she got back to Linden Lofts, she took the ancient freight elevator up to the fifth floor and got off, feeling utterly enervated. At the end of the hall she could see a large lump on the floor near her door.

“Time to think about getting glasses,” she muttered to herself. The lump stood up. “What happened to your hair?”

“Cecily?” Cordelia squinted. “What are you doing here?” Her heart skipped a beat. “Where's Hattie? Did she come with you!”

“No,” said Cecily. “I got sacked.”

Once upon a time, in a galaxy far far away, Cecily had been a theater major. She'd never set out to become a nanny, although she was great with children. Mainly, she was awestruck by Cordelia Thorn, creative director. Cordelia suspected Cecily figured that if she could develop a personal connection it might lead to being asked to join the Allen Grimby Repertory Theater. And then, when Cecily met Octavia, a woman who was already the toast of the Great White Way and on her way to Switzerland to star opposite Michael Douglas in a movie thriller, well, Cecily was, like,
sign me up!

“Why'd Octavia fire you?” asked Cordelia.

“Because she's a witch.”

“Tell me something I don't know.” She unlocked the door.

Cecily followed, dragging her luggage into the living room. “I'm bloody knackered,” she said, falling backward onto the couch.

Cordelia tossed her purse and car keys on the dining-room table, then turned to study the new ex-nanny. “You've been in England for what? Five months? And you've already picked up the slang?”

“I'm an actor, in case you forgot. That means I'm a sponge. I soak up my surroundings so that I can use it in my art.” She picked at a button on her red sweater. “And besides,” she muttered, “Octavia's husband says it all the time.”

“I don't want to hear about Radley,” said Cordelia, stepping over to the drinks cart. “Tell me about Hattie. Is she okay? Have they been feeding her? Do they keep her locked in the cellar?”

“It's not that bad. She's fine really. She misses you like crazy
though. She doesn't understand where you are, why everything's changed and all of a sudden she's living with Mommy and Radley.”

“You explained it to her, right? You told her it's not what I want.”