Beloved (40 page)

She studied her foot, then sighed.
"
I
'
m just not sure it
'
s me.
"
But then she brightened, as she always did.
"
On the other hand, I
'
ve always dressed the way I felt and this really is how I
feel
now. I think. Y
'
know?
"

Bing exchanged an amused look with Jane and went back to the Arts and Leisure section of
The New York Times.
Jane wondered, not fo
r the first time, whether Philli
p ever permitted Cissy to open her mouth.
Phil
li
p Harrow.
She shook her head.
He
couldn't
be the one
.

She decided to try to find out.
"
So where is Phil
li
p, anyway? Still in
New York
?
"

"
Oh, no; he had to fly to Palm
—
"
Cissy caught herself and stopped, blushing furiously.

Bing lowered his newspaper and said gravely,
"
You may as well tell us, Ciss. It
'
s Phil
li
p, of course.
"

"
When did you find out?
"
she asked, biting her
li
p.

Bing couldn
'
t suppress a grin.
"
Just about now.
"

Cissy looked
li
ke a child whose ice cream has fallen out of its cone. Jane tried to comfort her.
"
We won
'
t say anything, Cissy, don
'
t worry. But why is Phil
li
p being so secretive?
"
Why indeed, unless his intentions were completely dishonorable.

"Well ...
he never did
li
ke to b
e the center of attention;
you know how developers
are.  And
then his wife drowned
and
he ended up right back on the front page. Can you blame him for trying to keep a low profile?
"

"
Cissy, you know I worship the ground you walk on,
"
said her brother.
"
But even
I
don
'
t think Phil
li
p Harrow
'
s dating you is newsworthy.
"

"Well ..
.
"
Cissy had been tearing her napkin into thin shreds and pi
li
ng them up on her plate. She studied the
li
ttle mound of paper and said uncomfortably,
"
That
'
s what he told me.
"

"
I don
'
t
li
ke this at all,
"
Bing said, now that the subject of Phil
li
p was finally out in the open.
"
You
'
re both entitled to your privacy, but Christ. He acts ashamed of you.
"

"
No, no, he
'
s not ashamed
—
well, maybe of the way I used to dress. But can you blame him? I looked
li
ke a hooker.
"

"
You looked
li
ke every other twenty-two-year-old,
"
Bing said wryly.
"
Who does this guy think he is? Pygma
li
on?
"

Cissy smiled dreamily.
"
He
'
s just
li
ke Rex Harrison in
My Fair Lady,
"
she said, completely missing the connection.
"
Rex Harrison really
cared
for E
li
za. And Phil
li
p really cares for
me
.
"

She plopped her chin on the palm of her hands with an injured, disappointed expression that her brother had no doubt seen before.
"
I wish you wouldn
'
t be
li
ke this, Bing. Phil
li
p isn
'
t Dave.
"

Relenting, Bing sighed and said,
"
All right. But it
'
s damn awkward. I
'
ll see this guy and not know whether to welcome him into the fold or punch his
li
ghts out.
"

Somehow Jane was convinced that Bing would be doing neither. Her guess was that Phil
li
p was very good at leaving people holding the bag
—
whether it was Mac with a sunken Porsche, or Cissy with a broken heart. And yet, who knew for sure? Phil
li
p had been really kind to Jane, going out of his way to send her a potential buyer. True, the buyer had seemed to have very
li
ttle interest in
li
lac Cottage; but that wasn
'
t Phil
li
p
'
s fault. He
'
d even promised to send her another prospect.

Before the three of them broke up
—
Cissy to catch up on her sleep, her brother to fly back to
New York
—
Bing took Jane aside.

His expression was hesitant.
"Look,
are we all right with one another? After Friday night?
"

"
Of course we are,
"
she said, giving him a kiss right there on the street to prove it.

"
That
'
s great,
"
he said softly.
"
We
'
re going to need some time to sort things out. I suppose it
'
s a good thing that I have to get back to the City early. Still, the thought o
f being away for two weeks ...
.
"

He hesitated, then said,
"
Jane, there
'
s something I think I should tell you before I go. After I left your place on Friday, I stayed up and read. When I finally turned in about three in the morning, I looked out and saw .
.
.
"

He took a deep breath.
"
Well, I saw Mac. He was leaning up against a tree, watching your house. Naturally I went out and confronted him about it. He told me you
'
d had some trouble
—
which was no secret
—
and that he was just keeping an eye out. So I suppose it
'
s all right; but I
'
d rather you knew. I told Mac I was going to mention this to you,
"
he added scrupulously.
"
He wasn
'
t very happy about it.
"

Jane rea
li
zed that Mac must
'
ve returned after she saw him leave. She was amazed.
"
You two were carrying on under my window at three in the morning, and I never even heard it? I don
'
t be
li
eve this. No wonder someone
'
s getting away with murder around here.
"

"
I don
'
t
li
ke anything about this,
"
Bing said quietly. He left Jane reluctantly, with a troubled good-bye.

****

The next morning, Jane saw Mac
'
s dark green pickup parked by the
Town
Building
on
Broad Street
. So! He was trying to beat her to Ben Brightman
'
s death record! It was incredible nerve, to call her a naive twit and then sneak in ahead of her to find out if he was right. She stormed the building, ready to do battle.

On her march down the long, narrow hall to the Town Clerk
'
s Office, she nearly ran him down. But Mac was coming out of the Registry of Deeds, not the office of the Town Clerk. Momentum-wise, Jane felt as if she
'
d tripped and fallen on her nose.

"
You
'
re supposed to be in the Town Clerk
'
s Office,
"
she said indignantly.

"
I can
'
t imagine why. The plot maps I was looking at are in the Registry of Deeds.
"

"
But
—
"

A man in a suit and tie walked past and said,
"
Mornin
'
, Mac.
"

"
Hey, Pete. How
'
s it goin?
"

"
But what about Ben Brightman?
"
Jane demanded to know.

A young woman, neatly dressed, had her child in tow.
"
Hello, Mac,
"
she said with a friendly smile. The boy smiled too.

"
So, Jimmy
—
you taking good care of your mom?
"
Mac asked, tous
li
ng the boy
'
s hair. They toddled off, and he turned back to Jane.
"
Ben Brightman is your problem, not mine.
"

"
Okay, fine,
"
she said stiffly.
"
Will you be
li
eve my story if I come up with proof that he died around 1830?
"

"
You won
'
t find that proof in the death record.
"

"
Mac, my main man! Big game Sunday, don
'
t forget.
"

"
Gotcha, Ned.
"

"
You know what your problem is?
"
she said, annoyed that people seemed to
li
ke him.
"
You
'
ve got an
attitu
de."

"
Mac.
"

"
Bill.
"

Almost as an afterthought, Mac turned back to Jane and said gently,
"
I know what you want to be
li
eve: that Ben
Brightman was buried without a gravestone, and that Judith Brightman wants you somehow, some way, to make it right. It
'
s a lovely, romantic idea. But unless this Judith Brightman of yours has become more than a pain in the shoulder and is actually at the chitchat stage, or unless she
'
s left behind a diary of her grievances tucked between your floorboards, I can
'
t see how you
'
re going to figure out her problem, much less a solution to it. Have you considered
—
"

He interrupted himself to shake the hand, in mysterious silence, of a bearded man who
'
d come up to him.

"
Have you considered a séance?
"
he asked her.

Was he serious?

"
You
'
re outrageous, you know that?
"
she said quietly, and she turned on her heel and left him, presumably holding court for the small remainder of the forty-three hundred registered voters he hadn
't greeted so far that morning
.

Once again Mac had been able to read her
li
ke a book. Yes, she
did
think Judith and Ben were the star-crossed lovers behind the Legend of the Cursed Rose. And yes, she
was
wil
li
ng to consider a séance, maybe, if it wasn
'
t too expensive. She walked into the Town Clerk
'
s Office in a complete snit, determined to track down the facts of Ben Brightman
'
s death and rub them in Mac
's face.