A Catered Mother's Day (16 page)

Chapter 31

A
minute later, Bernie and Libby were out of the house and through the gap in the fence. Libby pointed to a tear in her rain parka once they were on the other side. She'd caught her sleeve on a nail that had been sticking out of the wood.

Bernie was not sympathetic. “You need to throw that thing away, Libby,” she said. “You needed to throw it away five years ago.”

“It's my favorite raincoat,” Libby squawked.

“A, it's a parka, not a raincoat; and B, I wouldn't brag about it if I were you,” Bernie told her, eyeing the light green garment with distaste. “I can give you a raincoat of mine if you want. The navy one.”

Libby didn't reply. She was too focused on getting to the van. As she hurried along she kept imagining that the blue SUV was going to come roaring out of one of the driveways in front of her, blocking her way, even though the streets and sidewalks were empty except for a group of giggling teenage girls ahead of her. By the time Libby had covered the three blocks to Mathilda, it had started raining again. Libby climbed in the van, put the key in the ignition, and turned it. Mathilda coughed three times and started up.

“Good girl,” Libby murmured, patting the dashboard.

Then she put Mathilda in drive and went to pick up Bernie. But she wasn't on the corner.

“Damn,” Libby said, cursing out loud. “Where are you?” Her heart started racing again.

A moment later, she spotted her sister standing under the branches of a large elm tree and slammed on the brakes. Mathilda squealed to a stop.

“I didn't want to get wet,” Bernie explained as she climbed in. She closed the door and fastened her seat belt. “Any problems getting here?”

Libby shook her head. “For once, everything went smoothly.”

“Excellent.” Bernie pushed her hood down and stifled a sneeze. “What do you say we take a look and see if the SUV is still parked in front of Clara Randall's house?”

Libby took her eyes off the road and looked at her sister. “Are you planning on getting out and knocking on the SUV's door?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Because if you are, the answer is no. It's just asking for trouble.”

“Then I'm not.”

It had started raining harder. Libby reached over and turned on the windshield wipers.

“Don't you want to know who's inside the SUV?” Bernie asked.

“Of course, I do,” Libby replied.

“And how would you propose we do that if we don't knock on their door?”

Libby thought for another minute. “We could follow them and see who gets out.”

“I guess we could,” Bernie conceded.

“Good.” Libby drove around Boyton, made a right onto Ash, then another left. “I don't think the SUV is here,” Libby said as she started up Clara Randall's block. “I don't see it. Do you?”

“No.” Bernie scanned the street. “I don't.” The blue SUV was nowhere in sight, which disappointed her. “Whoever was in it must have taken off.”

“Probably because he knew we were gone and there was no point in waiting around,” Libby suggested.

“Which means that he saw us leave and didn't try and intercept us.”

Libby frowned. “So he wasn't interested in us after all?”

“Maybe.” Bernie rubbed her chin with her finger. “Maybe this whole thing was random after all.”

“It didn't feel random to me,” Libby said.

“Me either,” Bernie allowed.

“I could feel his eyes watching us.”

“Let's not go overboard here. On the other hand,” Bernie ruminated, “if whoever it was, was watching us, we have a whole new set of problems.”

Libby slowed down. “How so?”

“Because that means that the person in the SUV knew we were going to Clara Randall's house, and the only way he could have known that is if he followed us there.”

“Or,” Libby said, “he could have just seen us go in.”

“He was just passing by and went, ‘Wow, there are the Simmons girls. I think I'll stop and see what they're doing' ? Doubtful.”

“There's no need for sarcasm,” Libby huffed. “I meant maybe he was staking out the house independently of us.”

“And he left because he didn't want us to see who he was,” Bernie said.

Libby nodded. “Exactly.”

“It's plausible,” Bernie conceded. “But why would he be staking out the house?”

“I don't know,” Libby admitted. Another idea occurred to her. “Or maybe he wanted us to see him,” she said. “Maybe he wanted to scare us off.”

“Off what?” Bernie asked.

Libby shook her head again. She didn't have an answer. They were now in front of Clara Randall's house. Libby had just pulled into the parking space the SUV had vacated, when it pulled up behind them.

“Jeez,” Libby said, taking a deep breath. “This is so not cool.”

“That's it. I'm done. I'm going to settle this right now,” Bernie said, and she started opening the van door.

“Don't,” Libby cried. “You'll get yourself killed. Let's get out of here.”

But it was too late. Bernie was already out of the van, walking toward the SUV. Libby cursed and followed her. What was wrong with her sister? That's what she wanted to know.

Libby was just behind Bernie as Bernie lifted her hand to rap on the window, but before she could, the window opened.
This is it,
Libby thought. She couldn't help it. She froze and closed her eyes. All she knew was that if her sister was going to get shot, she didn't want to see it. Then she heard a familiar voice and opened her eyes. It was Ellen. Libby's pulse rate jumped. Ellen wasn't going to get arrested because she was going to kill her first.

“What is wrong with you?” Libby yelled at Ellen. “You scared us to death.”

Ellen shrank back from the window. “I didn't mean to,” she stammered.

Bernie turned toward Libby. “Calm down,” she told her.

“Calm down?” Libby's voice rose even louder. “Calm down? I thought you were going to die!” She turned on Ellen. “What the hell were you doing spying on us like that?” she demanded.

“I . . . I wasn't. I thought I saw you both going into Old Lady Randall's house, and I wanted to know what was happening.” Ellen sniffed.

“Nothing is happening,” Bernie said, seeing no reason to tell Ellen about Manny's computer at this juncture and open up a whole new can of worms.

“Then what are you doing here?” Ellen asked.

“Just tying up some loose ends,” Bernie answered truthfully.

Libby tapped on the door of Ellen's SUV to get her attention. “How about finishing telling us why you parked across the street,” she said.

“Ah . . . sure,” Ellen replied. “I . . . I drove up the driveway, but you weren't there, so I decided to park on the street. Then I got tired of waiting and drove off, but as I was going down Westcott I saw you and decided to ask what you guys were doing.” Ellen turned to Bernie. “I didn't mean to scare you. Honest, I didn't.”

“I know.” Bernie reached through the open window and patted Ellen's hand. “It's okay.”

“It isn't okay,” Libby said, still pissed. “What about this car?”

“This car?” asked Ellen, looking confused.

“It's got tinted windows.”

“I don't understand,” Ellen said.

Bernie intervened. “I think what Libby is asking is how come you aren't driving the Subaru? My sister thinks that the tinted windows mean you were trying to hide your identity.”

“But I wasn't,” Ellen protested. “Al lent me this because he's keeping the Subaru for a couple of days because he needed to order parts for the exhaust system.” Ellen started to cry again. “Oh my God,” she moaned as she covered her face with her hands. “All I do is cause trouble for everyone. I can't do anything right. I'm so, so sorry.”

“It's okay,” Bernie told Ellen as Libby stalked to the van and slammed the door shut. The thud echoed down the street.

“No, it isn't,” Ellen wailed. “Libby hates me.”

“She'll get over it,” Bernie told her. “My sister doesn't like being wrong.” She spent the next five minutes comforting Ellen.

“Aren't you embarrassed about the way you overreacted ?” she said to Libby after Ellen had driven off.

“I didn't overreact,” Libby snapped back. “You agreed with me.”

Bernie wanted to tell her she hadn't, but instead of risking an argument, Bernie dug her phone out of her bag and called Ryan to tell him they had Manny's computer.

He answered on the first ring and suggested he meet Libby and Bernie for a handoff at the Starbucks located a half mile from where they were.

“You're on,” Bernie told him before hanging up and telling Libby where to go.

Libby nodded and turned down Levitt Street. She didn't say anything for the next five blocks. At Midler she turned to Bernie and said, “How come you didn't tell Ellen about Manny's computer?”

“Given Ellen's mouth, I just figured that the less she knows at this point, the better.”

“Makes sense,” Libby said, and she went back to looking at the road.

Chapter 32

I
t was getting on dusk, the hour when cars without their headlights on blur and dissolve in the grayness and people are settling in for the evening. When Libby pulled into Starbucks the lot was almost empty. During the day, it would be jammed with vehicles jockeying for space, with people getting their caffeine jolt before they got on or off Metro-North, but at night the place was practically deserted.

Bernie sat there for a moment listening to the rain splattering on Mathilda's hood. Then she tucked her tote under her raincoat. “Ready?” she asked Libby.

“When you are,” her sister replied, turning the motor off. “I still don't think I overreacted,” she said.

“Fine. You jumped to a conclusion,” Bernie told her.

“A legitimate one.”

“Can we drop it?”

“If you insist,” Libby said, still feeling aggrieved.

The sisters put up their hoods and made a dash for the door. A Joan Baez tape greeted them as they walked inside. Bernie immediately spotted Ryan and Matt standing by the counter. Of course, they were easy to spot since there were only six other people in there.
Not the best place for a meeting
, Bernie couldn't help thinking as she walked toward them.

“Can I get you anything?” Bernie asked when she reached them. She'd been planning on handing the laptop over and leaving, but now she figured she had to at least treat the kids to something to eat and drink.

Ryan nodded. “I'll take a piece of cheesecake and a brownie.”

“And I'll have a piece of cheesecake and the half moon cookie,” Matt said, pointing to the last one in the display case. “And a venti latte.”

“Me too,” Ryan said.

Bernie added two coffees for herself and Libby to the order and paid the cashier, a girl who looked as if she'd been on her feet way too long. Then they collected their beverages and Libby led the way to a four-person table situated by the window.

“We saw my mom,” Ryan announced as he put ten packets of sugar into his coffee and stirred the mixture with his plastic fork.

“Funny, so did we,” Libby said, restraining herself from saying, “Why don't you have a little coffee with your sugar?”

“She came by the house earlier.” Ryan turned his head away but not before Bernie saw his eyes beginning to mist.

“Don't be such a dork,” Matt said to Ryan, hitting his younger brother on the back of his head with the flat of his hand. “Ryan's upset,” Matt explained to Bernie and Libby, “because the parents were fighting again. Really fighting about what Mom did, and then Ethan got in the middle of it and told both of them that if they got divorced, even if Mom did go to jail, he'd never speak to them again.”

Bernie took a sip of her coffee and put it down. It was overbrewed. The coffee had been sitting for too long. But then what did she expect at this time of the night? She should have ordered decaf. That way they would have had to make a fresh pot.

“So what did your parents say?” Bernie asked.

“Dad told Ethan to zip it and Mom started crying and ran out of the house.”

Ryan blinked several times. “Is she going to jail?”

“I hope not,” Bernie told him.

“That's why you want me to look at Manny's computer, right?”

Bernie nodded. “Yup. You're our main man.”

Ryan smiled and attacked his cheesecake, while Matt licked the icing off his half moon cookie, then started on the cookie itself.

A thought occurred to Libby. “Did you tell anyone about the laptop?” she asked anxiously.

“No.” Matt looked confused. “Should we have?”

“No. Don't tell anyone,” Bernie said quickly. “No one needs to know.”

Ryan and Matt looked at each other. Both shrugged at the same time.

“Fine,” Matt said.

“Works for me,” Ryan added. He took another large bite of his cheesecake, swallowed, and sipped his coffee. “Can I see it?”

“By all means.” Bernie took the laptop out of her tote and handed it across the table. She watched as Ryan opened the case and took the laptop out.

“Cheap piece of crap,” he muttered to himself as he turned it on. “I don't know why people get this kind of stuff.”

“You think you'll be able to get in?” Bernie asked him.

“Probably,” Ryan said.

“Because I couldn't,” Bernie told him.

Ryan favored her with a look that clearly said, why am I not surprised?

Bernie drew herself up. “I know a little,” she retorted, defending herself.

“If you say so,” Ryan said dismissively.

Bernie opened her mouth and closed it again. He was right, and anyway, she wasn't about to get in a pissing contest with a teenage boy. “Remember,” Bernie said instead, “no one can know you have it. We can get in a lot of trouble if anyone finds out.”

Ryan glared at her. “I'm not an idiot, you know.”

“I didn't think you were,” Bernie said.

“So you'll call us,” Libby asked.

“As soon as I have something,” Ryan said. He was studying the screen and didn't bother to look up. “Come on, baby,” he crooned to it. “Let me in.”

“Call us even if you don't have anything,” Bernie said.

Ryan didn't answer her.

Matt shrugged. “That's what he's like when he does this kind of thing,” he said. “Totally focused. Don't worry. I'll call one way or another.”

It was raining even harder now. Torrents were pouring out of the sky, turning everything watery when Libby and Bernie stepped outside.

“I feel like Noah in the flood,” Libby grumbled as she tossed her coffee cup in the trash. She hadn't wanted it in the first place; neither had Bernie, who did the same.

“I guess we'll see what Ryan comes up with,” Bernie said to Libby as they hurried over to Mathilda. She cursed as she stepped in a puddle that had formed on the tarmac and went into water past her instep.

“All I can say,” Libby said, walking around another puddle, “is that I hope whatever Ryan finds is worth it.”

“At least we'll have something,” Bernie replied, “and in my book something is better than nothing.”

Libby muttered something under her breath, but Bernie didn't bother to ask her what she'd said because she was pretty sure she already knew. She was just getting in the van when she got a call on her cell from Jeremy Stone.

“Lisa's husband wants to talk to us,” she told Libby after she'd hung up.

Libby sighed. “No rest for the weary.”

“Or the wicked,” Bernie added. “He wants to meet us at the Roost,” she said, naming a dive bar on the far end of town.

Libby started Mathilda up. The engine coughed twice and turned over. She didn't like rain or damp or cold. Basically, she drove best when it was sunny and the temperature ranged from seventy down to forty.

“I wonder why he picked there.”

“My guess?” Bernie replied. “Because he doesn't want to be seen talking to us.”

“That would be mine too,” Libby said.

Bernie smiled. It was nice when she and Libby agreed on something.