Brutality (52 page)

“That’s right,” Fina agreed. “Don’t you forget it.” She climbed the front stairs, rang the doorbell, and opened the door. “Risa! It’s Fina!”

Risa appeared a minute later. “What happened to you?” she asked, taking in Fina’s slightly disheveled appearance. “Are you okay?”

“Jordan tried to ambush me, but I showed him who’s boss.”

“Are your clothes wet?”

Her clothes were damp, but Fina was hoping the visit would be brief and then she could head home and get in her cozies.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry to drop by unannounced,” Fina said, putting her boots in the boot tray by the door and hanging her coat on the coatrack. “Do you have a minute? There’s something we need to discuss.”

“I haven’t written the letter yet,” Risa said, heading toward the kitchen.

“That’s what I want to talk to you about.”

“Okay. Do you want something to eat or drink? I can make some tea or hot chocolate.”

“No, thanks. Can we sit down?”

Risa gave her a funny look and sat on the couch in the TV area. Fina joined her.

“I have some news,” Fina said. “Greta died this morning.”

Risa’s face went slack. “What?”

“It was very sudden. I spoke with her doctor, and he said it was an opportunistic infection. There wasn’t anything they could do.”

“I don’t understand. We just saw her a week ago, and she seemed okay.” Risa reached for a toss pillow and began pulling on the braided seam.

“I know. She was admitted to the hospital a few days ago, but when I spoke with her, she seemed fine.”

“You spoke with her?” Risa asked.

“She called me.”

“Why?”

“She wanted to speak with you,” Fina said, “but she wouldn’t tell me what about, specifically, nor did I tell her that you had decided against the donation. I was waiting until you wrote to her.”

“Why didn’t you tell me she called?” Risa asked.

“Because I didn’t trust her. I told her to have her doctor contact me, and if her situation was legitimate, I would pass the message on to you,” Fina said. “I wasn’t sure she was really in the hospital, and I didn’t want her to try to coerce you.”

“But maybe I should have spoken with her.”

“Why? There was absolutely nothing you could have done. I asked the doctor and he said that even if you were going to give her your kidney, she wouldn’t have gotten the transplant in time.” Fina touched Risa’s hand. “He also said that these types of infections can kill patients even after they’ve had a transplant. There’s just no way to know.”

Risa sat back against the cushions and braced the toss pillow against her chest. “Maybe I could have comforted her.”

“She didn’t want your comfort, Risa,” Fina said. “I’m not trying to be harsh, but what she wanted was your kidney.”

They were silent for a moment. “So that’s it?” Risa asked. “All of that, and it’s a moot point?”

“I’m sorry,” Fina said. “It’s a lot to wrap your head around.”

Risa swallowed. “I’m sorry that she died, but I didn’t really know her. Am I supposed to feel sad?”

“Not necessarily. If I were you, I’d be pissed.”

“Fina!”

“What? You went through all this rigmarole and then she drops dead? I’d be angry and relieved.”

“I’m not relieved,” Risa insisted.

“Of course not,” Fina said. “You’re too nice for that, but don’t feel bad if those feelings creep in. You wouldn’t be the first person to feel conflicted about a blood relative’s death.”

They sat on the couch. The refrigerator started humming, and ice clanked around in the ice maker.

“Is Marty going to be home soon?” Fina asked. “I feel bad dumping this on you and taking off.”

“He should be home before too long. He’s—”

“Mom!” The front door banged open, and a hubbub ensued in the hallway.

“I’ll be plenty distracted,” Risa said. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

Jordan and his friends poured into the room, and Fina rose from the couch. “Call me if you need anything,” she said. Fina started walking out of the room, but feinted in Jordan’s direction. He started and grinned. Fina laughed and retrieved her belongings at the front door.

She was sorry that Greta had died, but she couldn’t deny that a small part of her was relieved that this chapter was closed, once and for all.

—

F
ina swung by Scotty and Patty’s house since she was in the general neighborhood. Their door was locked, and rather than use her spare key, Fina rang the bell and waited. Haley appeared a minute later.

“Hi, pumpkin,” Fina said, giving her a hug.

“Hey. Aunt Patty isn’t here right now.”

“That’s okay. You’ll do,” Fina said, grinning.

“I’m taking care of Chandler, and I’m getting his dinner.”

They walked into the kitchen, where Chandler was lying on the couch, transfixed by the TV.

“Hey, dude,” Fina said, and gave him a juicy kiss on the cheek. He giggled, but kept his eyes glued to his show.

She pulled out one of the bar stools and took a seat. Haley was on the other side of the island, attending to the dinner preparation. She grabbed some pot holders and pulled a cookie sheet of chicken nuggets out of the oven. Once she’d arranged them on a plate, she popped a small dish of broccoli into the microwave and poured a glass of milk while the vegetables heated.

Fina looked at her and felt a small tug of pride in her chest. It wasn’t that Haley was doing anything most kids her age couldn’t do, but given her situation nine months ago, it was reassuring to see her behave like a normal teenager. In addition to the Shakespearean dysfunction of Rand and Melanie’s household, Haley had had few responsibilities and wasn’t expected to pull her weight in any way. Fina knew that Patty and Scotty’s kids were privileged, but they weren’t spoiled. They were being taught life skills and a concern and respect for one another that filled Fina with hope for the next generation of Ludlows.

The microwave beeped. “Chandler,” Haley said. “Your dinner’s ready.”

“This is almost over,” he said from the corner of the couch.

“You can pause it, but you have to eat now,” his cousin insisted.

“Aww.”

“That’s what Aunt Patty said,” Haley said.

The boy pushed himself off the couch and took the stool next to Fina. Haley slid the plate and cup across the island to him. She took two diet sodas out of the fridge and gave one to Fina before opening her own.

“Aunt Fina,” Chandler said, after shoving a chicken nugget into his mouth. “Do you think that if you put a frog in a cardboard box and he tried to jump that he would get out or would he get a concussion?”

Fina and Haley exchanged a look. Fina grinned, and Haley rolled her eyes.

“Is there a cover on the box?” Fina asked.

“Of course. If there wasn’t a cover, he’d just jump right out,” he said, in a tone suggesting she was an idiot.

“So you’re wondering if he would knock himself unconscious trying to get out?” she clarified.

“Yes.” He ate a broccoli floret and gazed at her.

“It depends on how strong the frog is. If he’s got strong deltoids and trapezoids like you do”—Fina reached over and squeezed his shoulders—“I don’t think he’d have a problem.” Chandler giggled. “But if he hasn’t been eating his broccoli, then he might bang his soft little head.”

“Wow,” Haley said, leaning her elbows against the counter. “You’re giving this way too much thought.”

“It’s an interesting question,” Fina said. “It deserves a thoughtful answer. What do you think, buddy?” she asked her nephew.

The rest of the meal was a monologue of Chandler’s theories and questions, which were as entertaining as they were implausible.

After he finished eating, he resumed his slump on the couch, and Haley cleaned up. As Fina stood to leave, Haley turned off the water and grabbed a paper towel.

“Gammy won’t stop talking about the trip,” she said, wiping her hands and examining the floor.

“Which trip?” Fina asked.

Haley didn’t respond.

“The Miami trip?” Fina asked, eyeing Chandler, who was engrossed in his show.

“Yeah.”

“I will put an end to it tonight. I promise.”

“Thanks,” Haley said.

Fina gave both kids hugs and kisses and let herself out.

Her mom pushed and pushed and pushed, and then she always seemed surprised when Fina pushed back.

This time, Elaine was in for the surprise of her life.

—

A
t Nanny’s, Fina rummaged around in her closet and pulled out a burner phone. She took it into the living room and pulled up the website for Horizon Mortgage East. Karla Hewett’s page listed her e-mail and her cell number. Fina walked over to the window and rested her forehead against the cold pane. She knew that her motives weren’t pure, but that didn’t negate her actions. Rand deserved everything coming to him, and Karla’s kids deserved to be safe. Fina dialed the number.

“Hello.”

“Could I please speak with Karla Hewett?” Fina asked.

“This is Karla. How can I help you?”

“Your new boyfriend is a creep, and you should keep him away from your children.”

“I’m sorry, who is this?” Karla asked.

“Rand Ludlow is a pedophile, and he likes to hire prostitutes that look like young girls. If you don’t believe me, you should ask a woman named Bev Duprey.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You can reach Bev at MCI-Framingham,” Fina said. “It’s a women’s prison in Massachusetts. She’s an inmate, and I’m sure she’d be happy to enlighten you.”

“I don’t know who you are, but you don’t know what you’re talking about. Don’t call me again!” Karla said.

“I won’t,” Fina promised. “You’ve been warned.”

She hung up and went over to the couch. She lay down and pulled Nanny’s afghan over her.

It was so draining keeping up with family.

34.

As soon as she woke up, Fina grabbed her phone and called Cristian, but had to settle for leaving a voice mail. She wanted to know if he’d made any progress proving that either Kevin or Vikram was behind the bomb.

The next person she wanted to speak with was Kelly Wegner, but as Fina gathered her belongings, Pamela called.

“I wonder if you could meet me,” Pamela said.

“Sure,” Fina said, wondering if the moment of truth was approaching.

“How about coffee in the student center?”

“Okay. Give me half an hour.”

Pamela was waiting when Fina climbed the broad stairs to the second story of the center. She was seated near a large window in a modern-looking chair covered in striped fabric. There was a coffee cup in her hand.

Fina dragged a chair next to Pamela and sat down.

“What’s going on?” Fina asked.

There were dark circles under Pamela’s eyes, and her lipstick looked faded.

“I wanted to tell you that I didn’t kill Liz Barone.”

“I don’t think you did,” Fina said.

“No?” Pamela asked.

“No. I think you had a motive, but I don’t think you acted on it.”

Pamela reached forward and placed the coffee cup on a low table in front of them. “So you know.”

Fina looked at her. “Why don’t you tell me whatever it is that you want to say, Pamela?”

She rotated her watch on her wrist before speaking. “I made a terrible mistake.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” Fina adjusted her butt in the chair. Nanny’s blue velvet couch may have been ugly, but it was certainly comfortable. “I’m probably the most sympathetic ear you’ll have for a while. You can practice on me.”

“I don’t have a Ph.D. from Stanford. I don’t have a Ph.D. at all,” she said, the statement coming out in a rush. “I never claimed that I had the degree. Someone else said I did, and then it was too late to correct them.”

“When exactly was it too late?” Fina asked. “You’ve been pretending to have this degree and other related credentials for almost a decade.”

“I was at a conference, and the emcee introduced me and said I had a Ph.D. from Stanford,” Pamela said, fingering a string of beads around her neck. “I was shocked, but I was so nervous about my presentation that I didn’t correct it at the time.”

“And afterward?” Fina asked. “Why didn’t you correct it that same day? People would have understood that you froze in the moment.”

“I forgot about it, and then the next time it came up, too much time had passed. If I set the record straight, it would look like I’d been lying.” Pamela dropped her hands to her lap.

“You were lying.”

“Not at first,” Pamela insisted. “I didn’t actively lie at first.”

“But I’m assuming some of your advancement can be attributed to your supposed advanced education,” Fina said.

“I don’t know. I obviously don’t need the degree to do my job successfully.”

“Maybe,” Fina conceded, “but that’s hardly the point.”

“What are you going to do?” Pamela asked her.

“About this? Nothing.
I’m
not your problem, but I was able to ferret this out pretty easily. If I can do it, others can, too. I’m actually surprised no one has.”

“People in academia are very trusting,” Pamela said.

Fina watched a few students playing pinball. What did it say about her brothers that their offices resembled a student center?

“Are you telling me this because you secretly hope that I’ll spill the beans?” Fina asked. “It would fit the pattern of letting other people decide your fate.”

“No,” Pamela said testily. “It’s nothing that Freudian. I wanted your advice.”

“Okay.”

“Given your family’s history, I thought you might be able to recommend a good PR firm.”

“So you’re going to go public?” Fina asked.

Pamela sighed. “I’m tired of worrying about being found out. I’m sure once it’s public, I’ll regret it, but this seems like the lesser of two evils at the moment.”

“And then you won’t have to worry about someone like Kevin Lafferty holding it over you,” Fina commented.

“He told you?”

“No, but I figured that he knew.”

“Why?” Pamela asked.

“You were so anxious to tattle on him, and it made sense once I realized you were lying about your degree. He knew, and you were trying to neutralize him.”