A Wrongful Death (25 page)

Barbara showed her to the dining room and she nodded. "Okay. Is there a florist at the market you mentioned? I want a piece of OASIS."

Barbara didn't have a clue about what she meant, but she said there was a florist and they left. Although the market was crowded, the food court was spacious and they found a table, inspected the various small eateries and had lunch, then visited the florist where Elizabeth bought what looked like a green brick and a spool of green tape.

"You have some evergreens in the yard, don't you?" she asked. "A spruce tree or pine or something."

"Several."

"Then we're all set."

Back at the house Elizabeth said they should soak the OASIS in the bathroom sink and keep out of Frank's way. All she needed was a saucepan. She put the green brick in the sink with warm water, added the saucepan filled with water on top of it to weigh it down and then went outside to cut some greenery.

It was like magic watching her work with the flowers and greenery a short time later. The OASIS had become dark green after soaking up most of the water, and had softened. She put it in a low bowl, tied it in place, clipped stems, poked greenery into the OASIS, added flowers and it seemed in no time she had a beautiful low centerpiece. She arranged the remaining flowers in a slightly smaller vase, where they looked untouched, as beautiful and luxuriant as ever.

"How many languages do you speak?" Barbara asked when they drew back to admire her handiwork.

"Several," Elizabeth said. "Mother entertained a lot of people from the UN. She thought I should learn to speak with them in their own language."

"And I bet you can cook, too," Barbara said morosely.

"Some. Why?"

"If you can also sing, I might have to kill you," Barbara said.

Elizabeth laughed. "Saved by a voice like a frog and a tin ear."

Bailey wandered in and, while not actually smiling, he had a pleased expression. "Guess what?" he said. "Just talked to Hannah. One rainstorm after another down there in sunny California. No golfing, no fishing, just sitting around yapping and fighting. She said it's just as well that I'm not in the middle of it, and she wishes she could leave. I promised a trip to Hawaii next month if I could just meet her in Portland instead of flying down for a day or two, and she thinks that's more than a good deal. Never thought I'd be grateful for rain." He grinned. "Bet they don't close down fishing in Hawaii. And they invented sunshine."

"Keep thinking of sunshine and come help bring in stuff from my car," Barbara said.

They brought in the clamshell, poster board and birds, the pedestal and the box of wine from Martin. "That goes on the back porch to chill," Barbara said, and Bailey took it out. After Barbara and Elizabeth set up the birdbath, Elizabeth cut out a circle of the blue poster board to fit in it, and worked the skewers with the birds through it, then put it in place.

"Presto, water and birds."

"It's wonderful!" Barbara said. "Perfect. Now we'll pretend we haven't done a thing and let Dad discover it when he will."

"If it lasts that long," Elizabeth said, watching the two cats who appeared extremely interested. "You might end up with feathers all over your house."

Barbara shooed them away from the birdbath, and sat with Elizabeth chatting by the fire. Before long Frank joined them with wine, cheese and crackers. He stopped in midstride. "Well, I'll be damned." He set down the tray and went closer to the birdbath to examine it, chased one of the cats away and then said, "Just what the garden's been needing for a long time. Thank you."

He walked back to the sofa and kissed Barbara on her forehead. "Pity we don't have cardinals here," he said. "But you fixed that."

"She did it," Barbara said. "We don't have fireflies, either," she added to Elizabeth. "Strange, isn't it? Seems a perfect climate for them."

Nibbling cheese and chatting about inconsequentials, she thought this was how life was probably supposed to be, not one crisis after another. Life in Utopia, she added, not in her own here and now. Her cell phone rang minutes later, and her caller ID showed that it was Brice Knowlton calling.

"Excuse me," she said, and left the living room. So much for peace and quiet, she thought derisively in the kitchen. "Okay. Alone. What's up?"

"Dad will go along with whatever you and your father decide is best," he said. "He knows he bungled things last time around."

"Good. Nothing's going to happen until Tuesday. Monday's a holiday and probably no one will be available. When we get something set up, can I reach you at this number?"

"Day or night."

"Good. One more thing. We're going to have to get your father and mother to a safe place where we can meet with him, and where the other attorneys can, too. On Monday, get him to call up and down the coast to get a reservation for at least four days, a week would be better. It doesn't matter where it is, anywhere from Brookings to Astoria, because they won't actually go there."

"On his land phone?"

"Yes, indeed. We want them to listen in and know your folks are off for a few days at the coast. And meanwhile I'll want to see you again to fill in some details. I'll call you back on Monday to arrange it."

When she disconnected, she was thinking furiously. Where could they hide Dr. Knowlton and his wife for days, possibly a week or longer, and how to manage another meeting with Brice and not have it known? Later, she told herself. Deal with it later.

"I'll set the table, and then I have to go wash my face and change into something besides jeans and walking shoes," she said minutes later, back in the living room. "Seven of us, right?"

"Eight," Frank said, rising. "I invited Darren. As I said, no one should be alone on Christmas Eve." He left the room quickly without waiting for a response from her.

"That's what he told me, too," Elizabeth said. "He's pretty terrific, isn't he?"

Barbara nodded. He was. But Darren? She didn't want him to come near her, not now. Not until this was all over. They would take notice, look him up. She remembered how immobilized she had been when she had come across him at her apartment, as if caught in a frozen moment of time. /Don't make an issue of it/, she told herself sharply. He's an old family friend, like Dr. Minnick. That's all. Just a family friend. She closed her eyes hard.

There were hugs and kisses with Shelley, Alex and Dr. Minnick, more a father figure to Alex than just a friend and mentor, but she didn't dare touch Darren, and he was just as careful. She introduced Elizabeth as Leonora and that was that. She had told Elizabeth about Alex's disfiguring birth defect, but no one was ever really prepared for the reality of his grotesque appearance. Elizabeth caught her breath, made a quick recovery and didn't avert her gaze, which was always embarrassing. She accepted him exactly the way he had accepted her, a woman under suspicion of murder.

Frank had prepared an especially scrumptious meal, Barbara thought at the table across from Darren, but avoiding looking at him — ducks with a brandied apricot glaze; sweet potato puffs, crisp and brown on the outside, and melting inside with a touch of ginger and honey; asparagus, a lovely salad. The Soave helped, she knew, as she refilled glasses, but she was acutely aware of Darren every second.

The talk drifted from topic to topic until movies were mentioned, and Frank said, "They just don't make them the way they used to."

"No," Barbara said. "Now people talk, and there's color, and music, not just an out-of-tune piano. Not at all like they used to.

"Scoff all you want "he said agreeably. "Now it's car chases and explosions and near naked women running for their lives, and monsters."

"What's your favorite old-time movie?" Alex asked.

"Let's narrow it down to a favorite scene," Frank said, standing. "Scene — a cabin in the wilderness, a snowstorm raging, the pretty young thing holding an infant and the villain leering and twirling his mustache. Villain, 'You must pay the rent.' Pretty young thing, 'I can't pay the rent!'"

He was doing the voices, one falsetto and tremulous, the other deeply villainous, and Barbara was suddenly plunged back into a memory of sitting up in bed while he read the Pooh books. Lugubrious Eeyore, perky Tigger...

She blinked rapidly, then glanced across the table and caught Darren's gaze on her. She looked away quickly.

Frank was finishing, "Hero, 'I'll pay the rent!'" Everyone laughed and applauded. He bowed deeply and sat down, grinning.

Laughing, Dr. Minnick stood. "Remember the Saturday serials? Wonderful stuff! Scene, The bad guys have caught Dick Tracy and he's handcuffed to a water pipe in the bottom of a pool. The villain is leering in this one too — in the good old days villains always leered and sneered—"

Watching him, paying little attention to the ridiculous story line, Barbara thought what a wise old man he was. He had taken in Alex, a suicidal, tormented adolescent and saved him. How many others had he salvaged during his long years as a juvenile psychiatrist in Manhattan? How painful it must have been when he failed, and finally now he had a family that loved him and one he loved without reservation. Golden years. That was what the phrase meant, she realized, having a family you loved who loved you in return.

Dick Tracy saved himself and was free to fight crime another day. Barbara laughed and clapped along with the others and watched and listened to Shelley ham it up about the pretty young thing in a sheer nightgown investigating a noise in that dark cellar. If she had ever had a sister, Barbara thought, watching, she would have wanted her to be Shelley. Beautiful, rich, unspoiled, brave, all the things one would want in a sister. Then Alex did the dying composer who struggles to stay alive long enough to finish a great symphony. He fell over dead, in a final bit of histrionics, to laughter from those at the table. Shelley had said once that when she looked at him, she saw a beautiful shining man. Barbara had come to know what she meant.

When Darren stood, Barbara felt every muscle go tense. She kept her eyes downcast, listening. He was doing a Harold Lloyd bit, a clueless hero who, oblivious, avoids several murderous attempts on his life.

His voice, always musical and low, seemed especially so in the retelling, evoking both amusement and suspense. He had a magical voice, Barbara thought, and remembered the magic of his large warm hands massaging tension from her shoulders. His hands were always warm. Magical healing hands, a magical healing voice. He was a good actor. He had mimed the parts beautifully.

Elizabeth stood. Barbara hadn't known how much she would go along with the game, but apparently Elizabeth had felt the trust in the group, the acceptance and even love they all shared. She described a western village where everyone is huddled inside in terror. "In one house the hero is taking a revolver from a closet shelf. He loads it as the pretty young thing watches eyes wide. 'What are you doing? You mustn't go out there. It's dangerous. You can't go out there!' She runs to stand in front of the door. He straps on his gun belt and holsters the gun." In a bass voice Elizabeth said, "'A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. Get out of the way.' She moves aside, wringing her pretty little hands helplessly. 'I love you. Be careful,' she whispers. He exits. And she bites her knuckle." She received especially enthusiastic applause.

Barbara did a roomful of scientists at computers, all trying to arrive at the right combination to detonate explosive devices in a mammoth meteorite hurtling toward earth. "One by one computers flash big red messages — Error, and go black. A woman scientist is keying in code as fast as she can, working feverishly. Sweat is on her forehead as she works. Another computer goes black. Someone is praying. Another computer goes black. The man at it rises and leaves the room with slumping shoulders, his head bowed. There is the sound of a shot. For a second the woman stops all motion, then resumes even faster. Hers is the only computer still working. A young male scientist is standing over her shoulder watching. Suddenly she gasps and clutches at her chest, then slumps, unconscious. Reaching past her the young scientist finishes the last bit of code, and in space there is a tremendous explosion, then another and another. And everyone is hugging the young male scientist and laughing hysterically, or crying, as the woman falls to the floor."

"Come on, Bailey, don't be a holdout," Barbara said, after taking a bow. She didn't look across the table toward Darren, but she knew he was watching her, smiling, as he had been doing all evening, every time she happened to glance his way. Watching, smiling.

Bailey scowled at her. Reluctantly he stood. "Okay. This guy and his girlfriend kiss good-night." It was about a werewolf, who escapes the strong room his servant locks him in, and is last seen loping with red eyes toward the pretty young thing with the dewy eyes walking by the moonlit lake. He told it exactly the same way he gave one of his abbreviated reports.

Barbara wanted to hug him. He should have been down in San Diego with his family, his wife's family but, instead, here he was with this family, as much a part of it as anyone else at the table.

They all applauded, and he scowled even more, and sat down.

"Enough of this frivolity," Frank said. "No time for Oscars. It's time to clear the table and get down to the serious business of dessert."

They cleared the table, then ate Sacher torte, had coffee and some brandy. Afterward they all helped wash the silverware and crystal, load the dishwasher, do the pots and pans. When Frank tried to participate, he was chased away.

"It's been a lovely party," Shelley said later, pulling on her coat. "Mr. Holloway, you outdid yourself with dinner tonight. It was wonderful, everything was wonderful. I love your movie game."

They left, and Barbara turned from the door to see Darren watching her, still smiling. "It was wonderful," he said softly. "I'll be taking off, too. Thanks, Frank. One of the best Christmas Eves I ever had." He said it to Frank, but his gaze remained on Barbara. When he left, she realized that they had not touched all evening. They didn't dare touch each other.

Elizabeth nodded. "For me, too. I was dreading tonight, but it was lovely. Thank you."