An enterprising vendor had gotten up early to provide coffee and muffins for the
KTA
staff. Gordon hobbled to the kiosk, looking forward to a steaming cup of caffeine. He’d had no time for breakfast.
Beth Terry stood at the counter, peeling back the paper on a huge chocolate-chip muffin.
“Good morning, Professor.”
“Good morning.”
“I guess you heard about our intern,” she said, the statement more a question.
“What?”
“They found Sam in the tunnel at The Breakers last night. Alive, thank God, but in bad shape. He’s in the hospital, still unconscious.”
Gordon squinted as he took a sip of hot coffee. He felt no sympathy for the kid. If not for the intern’s bragging that he’d been an eyewitness, Gordon would not have been put in the position of talking about Madeleine’s death to an audience of millions.
Dominick O’Donnell took the call from B.J. over at Newport Hospital. Word spread quickly through the stunned staff.
“Zoe Quigley is dead.”
Linus looked quizzically at his deputy.
“You know. Zoe. Our intern?” Dominick guessed he shouldn’t have been surprised. Linus lived in a world ruled by self-interest. In that world, it wasn’t necessarily important to know the names of your underlings.
“The black one?”
Dominick winced as he nodded.
“What happened?”
“It looks like a hit-and-run. This morning when she was on her way down here.”
“Jesus.” Linus groaned. “I hope we don’t get hit with a lawsuit.”
As soon as Linus walked away, it struck him. Zoe Quigley’s death could add further drama to this morning’s show. Even the darkest cloud had a silver lining.
CHAPTER
97
Standing in the hospital parking lot, Grace found herself shaking as she listened to Lauren begin her report at the bottom of the first hour of the broadcast.
“Hello, Constance and Harry. Yes, it’s a tense, sad morning here as one of our KEY News interns is dead and another fights for his life. Twenty-year-old exchange student Zoe Quigley of Richmond, England, died in the ambulance on her way to Newport Hospital this morning, the victim, it seems, of a hit-and-run driver. Details are sketchy at this point, but it appears that Zoe was walking, before dawn, on her way to work at our broadcast site at Bowen’s Wharf. She was mowed down by a vehicle two blocks from the hotel where she and our news staff are staying while we’re in Newport.”
Grace found herself suddenly worried about Lucy. She hoped her daughter was still asleep, safe in her room at the Viking, oblivious to any of this.
Lauren was continuing. “At the same time, Constance and Harry, twenty-one-year-old Sam Watkins, another
KTA
intern,
lies in the intensive care unit here. As you know, Sam had been missing since late Sunday. Newport police found him last night in a tunnel on the property of The Breakers, the Vanderbilt estate. He has head injuries and has not regained consciousness.”
Grace knew that Lauren was being careful with her wording here. In his instructions given minutes before the report began, Linus had been adamant that Lauren delete any mention that Sam had been scheduled to be interviewed about what he’d seen of Madeleine Sloane’s death.
KTA
had provided Gordon Cox in Sam’s stead when the intern had not shown up. There was no need, as far as the executive producer was concerned, to emphasize that. Grace still marveled that there had been no viewer phone calls, at least as far as she had heard, picking up on the discrepancy between the video of Sam in the promo and the image of Professor Cox that actually was served up.
“All of this, Constance and Harry, comes on the heels of other tragic and disturbing events that have been rocking this city by the sea. A fourteen-year-old missing persons case turned out to be a murder when socialite Charlotte Wagstaff Sloane’s remains were discovered buried in a tunnel on another estate here and identified this past weekend. Also over the weekend, her daughter, Madeleine Sloane, fell to her death on a staircase from the cliffs to the Atlantic Ocean. The medical examiner’s office has announced that they will be issuing their findings in that case later this morning, while police continue to investigate if and how these events are linked. Back to you, Constance and Harry.”
Grace watched Lauren unclip her microphone and hurry over to B.J. to ask how she had done. As if it really mattered, thought Grace. Madeleine was dead; Sam, who said he was an eyewitness, was fighting for his life; and Zoe was never going to return to her family in England.
Despite the warming morning air, Grace felt a chill as she recalled what Zoe had told her in the restaurant ladies’ room the night before. The car on the road near The Breakers speeding past the young intern, almost knocking her down, on the night Sam was last seen there. Had the driver finished the job this morning, thinking that Zoe could identify Sam’s assailant? Had Zoe been intentionally run down and killed?
CHAPTER
98
The green Mercedes pulled up on Thames Street and parked directly at the opening to Bowen’s Wharf.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass if I get a ticket,” Mr. Vickers yelled at his wife. “I’m getting Joss and I’m getting her right now. I’m not going to let my daughter be exposed to this.”
“What exactly is
this,
Howard?”
He looked at her, stunned by her seeming incomprehension.
“This
is danger, Vanessa. What’s the matter with you? Don’t you see what’s happening?”
“What I see is a horrible accident. A young woman was hit by a car. It happens, Howard. It’s very sad, but it happens.”
“And what about the other intern, that boy in The Breakers’ tunnel? What do you see there?”
“I don’t see anything yet, Howard. We’ll have to see what the police turn up or what the young man says when he wakes up.”
“If
he wakes up, Vanessa. How can you be so naïve? Three people who were at our clambake Saturday night have been attacked. Two of them are dead and the other is near to it. Sam Watkins and Zoe Quigley have been interning with KEY News. So is our daughter, and I’m getting Joss out of here—out of the Viking and back home where she belongs.”
He slammed the sedan door and marched to the end of Bowen’s Wharf.
CHAPTER
99
At the close of the broadcast, after a water tour of the harbor and coast of Newport, the sightseeing vessel carrying Constance, Harry, and Professor Cox docked again at Bowen’s Wharf. From the deck it was Harry, this time, who wrapped things up, teasing the audience about the next morning’s show.
“Tonight there will a fabulous party, the Ball Bleu, held at The Elms, to raise funds to help the endangered birds of Rhode Island.
KEY to America
will be there, and we’ll show you all the glamorous goings-on, along with a fascinating view of what it was like to be one of the servants in that Gilded Age mansion. That, and much more, tomorrow on
KEY to America.”
CHAPTER
100
Elsa walked away from the television set and out into the garden. She sat down in a chaise longue on the patio and listened to the energetic chirping of the birds. The little creatures were always busiest in the morning.
So they were finally going to issue the results of Madeleine’s autopsy, Elsa thought. She wanted to be with Oliver when he got the news. He would need her by his side. It would be hard for him, no matter what the medical examiner found. Surely, if she were there for him in this, his hour of greatest need, the bond between them would be unbreakable. She just had to be patient.
In her mind, Elsa was already Mrs. Oliver Sloane. After some more time passed, Oliver would come around and marry her. He just didn’t know it yet.
She thought of the swans, so graceful on the water, so awkward on land. Swans, it was said, mated for life. Just like swans, Oliver and she were meant to be united forever, sailing placidly through the rest of their lives together.
CHAPTER
101
His eyes burned after a sleepless night. Rusty stood under the shower spray, hoping the rushing water would relieve the tightness in his neck. He stood there for a long time, but the tension did not lessen.
That rich girl, Joss, the one whose parents had hosted the clambake, had recognized the tattoo design he had copied from Charlotte’s earring. He was almost sure of it. He could tell Joss hadn’t bought his lame explanation last night.
Idiot. You shouldn’t have had it in the design book for anyone to see. What were you thinking?
Joss, and those other two with her, were with the news. They’d gone rushing out when they heard that the kid had been found in the tunnel but, when Joss had time to think about it, she could tell them about the design. They might come back, they might tell the police. Who knew what they might do?
Rusty’s mind raced. He had to get rid of the earring. A design on paper was one thing. Having the real McCoy, the earring that Charlotte Sloane had been wearing on the last night anyone had
seen her alive, was another. It would incriminate him, big time.
He knew he should have disposed of the earring earlier, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to part with it. It was so beautiful, unlike anything he had ever seen before. The earrings he used to buy his mother in the jewelry departments at the discount stores looked like the cheap imitations they were next to the richness and textures of Charlotte’s earring. The gold more lustrous but less shiny. The diamonds exquisitely fine.
Exquisite. Just like the lady who wore it that warm summer evening. The damsel in distress, desperate to escape the country club and what had upset her inside its walls. The classy creature who’d had no idea, as she accepted his offer of a ride, that the night would be her last.
CHAPTER
102
Before she did anything else, Grace wanted to call Lucy. She needed to hear her daughter’s voice. B.J. offered his cell phone, and she stepped away from the satellite truck to make the call. Hearing her own voice message on the cell phone she’d lent her daughter, Grace called the room directly.
Frank answered on the third ring.
“Hi, it’s me. Grace.”
“Hello.”
“I’d like to talk with Lucy.”
“She’s not here. Jan just took her down to breakfast.”
Grace’s heart sank. “Is she all right, Frank?”
“Do you mean is she upset with all this craziness on your news show this morning, Grace? The answer to that question is yes.”
“I’d hoped you would have kept Lucy from watching.”
“That would have been impossible, Grace. Lucy has made it a point to watch
KEY to America
every morning this week. She wants to see what her mother is working on. So, no. I didn’t keep her from watching. And frankly, I don’t see why I should have. Lucy is old enough to see what her mother is choosing to get herself into.”
“Getting myself into? What am I getting myself into, Frank?” Grace made a concerted effort not to raise her voice, mindful that B.J. could overhear.
“I don’t know, Grace. You tell me. It seems to me that those interns you pal around with are dropping like flies.”
And you’d love to see me drop, too, wouldn’t you, Frank?
Grace wanted to yell it into the tiny phone, but she held herself in check.
“Just tell Lucy that I called, will you please? Tell her that I’m fine and that I love her and I’ll see her later. Tell her there is nothing to worry about.”
CHAPTER
103
From The Elms’ rooftop, Newport Harbor could be seen in the distance. Mickey stood on the third-floor balustrade and looked out at the huge pale blue tent set up on the lush, green lawn. Several hundred guests would be dancing in the tent tonight, all of them expecting flowing liquor and fine food, all of them having the potential to be future clients.
He was exhausted but determined to summon the energy to ensure that the Ball Bleu was a resounding success. He had paid attention to every detail. The robin’s egg-colored table linens, the flower centerpiece arrangements of anemones, bluebonnets, and forget-me-nots, the menu that began with Blue Point oysters and ended with blueberry cobbler. He’d even assembled a gaggle of blue toy swans to float in the bronze fountain. The guests would surely be impressed.