Midsummer Murder (33 page)

She started to laugh, teeth chattering.

“It isn’t goddamn funny.” Bill’s voice was as menacing as the thunder that resonated behind his words.

He stood glaring at both of them for a second, water dripping from his hair, his rain-drenched shirt clinging to his shoulders and chest.

She looked away.

Bill began circling the Land Rover, opened the door, rummaged around, and pulled a pen knife from his pocket. A few minutes later, he reemerged, holding his hand in a fist. He opened his fingers. A pellet of metal rested on his palm.

Jeremy and Lindy peered into his hand as if it held the secret of the philosopher’s stone.

“BB,” he said. He walked away from them, then turned back. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“He’s annoyed,” whispered Lindy.

“You’re damn right I’m annoyed,” Bill bellowed. Even Jeremy flinched. “You could have been killed.”

“With a BB?” asked Jeremy.

“Yes, with a BB. A hit to the eye could have gone straight to your brain. A shattered windshield could have sent you both over a cliff.”

“It wasn’t our fault,” said Lindy. “We were ambushed.”

Bill’s growl echoed in the rafters as they followed him out of the garage.

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* * *

Showered and changed, Jeremy and Lindy sat drinking tea in the drawing room while Bill paced up and down in front of the window.

When they came to the end of their adventure with the black Explorer, Bill stopped pacing.

“I’m going into town,” he said. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

Lindy waited until the door slammed behind him. “And you’re going to face Marguerite,” she said softly.

Jeremy shot her a quick look as if asking for a reprieve.

“Go,” she said.

He went.

* * *

Lindy sat for a while longer, sipping tea and listening to the sound of the storm outside, then she climbed up the stairs. On the landing, she overtook Stu, drenched to the skin, filthy with mud and leaves, and limping slowly down the corridor.

She rushed up behind him. “My God, Stu, are you all right? Shall I get Adele?”

“No, I’m fine.” He didn’t turn around but waved her away with his hand. His voice sounded gruff and impatient. Well, no wonder. He had had a shocking week like everyone else, even more so considering what he had learned about Ellis the night before. And now he had been caught bedraggled and dirty and was probably embarrassed.

But when he finally turned to her, his usual smile was in place, and Lindy wondered if she had imagined that undercurrent of pain and frustration.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I just got caught by the storm. In my hurry to get to shelter, I tripped. No harm done except to my clothes.” He smiled a sheepish smile. Then the humor faded from his face, leaving only a crescent of a mouth and two tired eyes.

“Try not to be harsh in your judgment of Ellis and Jeremy, Lindy.

These things happen.” With a nod, which looked chivalrous in spite of his waterlogged appearance, he went into his room.

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Yeah, Stu,
she thought.
Shit happens.
Then she kicked herself mentally for her sarcasm. He was probably exhausted from shoring up the Easton family while dealing with his own convalescence and emotional upheaval. She wondered if Ellis and Marguerite realized how lucky they were.

225

Twenty

Several diners were leaving the restaurant as Lindy and Biddy arrived. “Where did all these people come from?” Lindy asked Chi-Chi as she led them to a table for two.

“The annex is open from July until the middle of September. We cater to nature lovers and sportsmen as well as art patrons.” She placed her fingertips on the table and leaned forward. “We close before hunting season opens.”

It didn’t surprise Lindy that Marguerite was against hunting for sport. And it was just as well. Chi-Chi didn’t look as though she would make it through the evening, much less until the middle of September.

“When everyone clears out, why don’t you join us for coffee?”

asked Lindy.

“Sounds wonderful.”

Lindy watched Biddy watch Chi-Chi as she walked back to her station.

“What?” Biddy stared back at her from across the table.

“Just thinking.”

“Oh, that. For a minute I was afraid you were conjuring up my future. And I left my Tarot cards in another lifetime.” Biddy flipped her palms upward in a gesture somewhere between “C’est la vie” and

“Little Suzy Sunshine.”

“So what did you do today?” she asked.

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” It was a deflection that would make Bill proud, Lindy thought unhappily. There had not been too many times in their life together that Lindy had kept anything from Biddy, and most of those times had involved Jeremy. Here she 226

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was again, stuck between her two friends. Irritated with both of them that they were so busy protecting themselves that they couldn’t talk to each other.

Biddy shot her a quizzical look. “For starters, bail has been denied.” She waited for Lindy’s reaction. “The judge felt that in view of the possible suicide attempt it would be irresponsible of him to allow Robert to return home. So they’re transferring him . . .” She paused while a waiter bade them good evening and handed them menus. “To the county jail. Evidently a step above the local pokey. As if that’s any consolation.”

“Criminy.” Lindy glanced toward Chi-Chi’s post, but her view was blocked by a statue of Diana draped in a tunic of concrete folds.

“Yeah, she’s taking it pretty hard; driving herself like a maniac,”

said Biddy. “I figure it won’t be long until she collapses. And where will that leave everybody else?”

“She virtually runs the whole operation, doesn’t she?”

“No virtually about it. Chi-Chi
is
the retreat.”

Lindy closed her menu and rested her elbows on the table, clasping her hands together and staring at her knuckles. She heard Biddy sigh.

When she looked up Biddy was searching her face.

“Lindy . . .”

“Huh?”

“There has been no sign of Marguerite, Ellis, or Stu today.” Biddy’s eyes held hers. She had to fight the urge to look away. “What’s going on?” It was more challenge than curiosity.

Lindy could only shrug and hoped her face wouldn’t give her away.

She held no illusions about that, though. Biddy had always known how to read her. It was their understanding of each other that had made them inseparable friends during their career as dancers, and had sustained them since being reunited through their work for Jeremy. Now that she thought about it, Jeremy was the one thing that threatened their trust in each other. Resentment bubbled up from somewhere deep inside her.

The waiter returned, took their orders, and left. But his interruption hadn’t made it possible to change the subject. Biddy was waiting.

“There’ve been developments.” Lindy couldn’t even look her friend in the face.

“You don’t want me to know.” Bitterness was antithetical to every part of Biddy’s being. Hearing it now made Lindy want to throw 227

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herself at Biddy’s feet, beg for forgiveness, and tell all. But she couldn’t. Only Jeremy could tell her something like that, and she doubted if Jeremy ever would.

“I’m caught between loyalties,” she mumbled.

“Oh well,” said Biddy. “I wouldn’t want you to be dis-loyal.” She dragged out the last word.

“Biddy, you know that you’re my best friend in the whole world.”

Biddy lifted an eyebrow.

Lindy closed her eyes.

“It’s about Jeremy, isn’t it?”

Lindy looked up. Biddy was pulling at her hair with both hands.

She was upset, and who wouldn’t be? “What hideous thing has he dumped on you this time?” Biddy’s voice was hard. Biddy’s voice was never hard. Lindy felt like confessing to anything if she would just sound like her normal self.

A movement caught in her peripheral vision.

“Biddy.”

“I’m sick of him and his self-involvement. He’s not the only person in the world who has suffered. The rest of us get on with it.”

“Biddy—”

“I’m fed up with him. He can just go worry himself to death.”

“Biddy—” This time she said it more urgently. Jeremy was standing next to the statue of Diana. Greek god and goddess. They were both the same shade of gray.

“I’m quitting.”

Lindy’s jaw dropped.

“Don’t—” But it wasn’t Lindy who had spoken.

Biddy’s jaw dropped, and the two of them sat staring openmouthed at each other across the table.

“I need you.”

Biddy blinked and slowly turned her head in the direction of the voice.

Lindy wondered if it was possible to vanish into thin air. Her thoughts spread out in all directions. Any thought was preferable to thinking about what was happening right here.

What was Jeremy doing in the restaurant, anyway? Christ, if people thought Dickens relied too heavily on coincidence for his plots, they should try spending a week on tour with a dance company.
The stage
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is all the world,
she thought. Keeping any semblance of a private life was definitely a problem in such a confined existence. Everything was magnified, exaggerated. Between gossip, overheard conversations, fallout from arguments that hit those who just happened to be nearby, privacy was impossible.

Lindy reined in her thoughts. Jeremy and Biddy hadn’t moved.

She considered sliding under the table. Ludicrous. Willed herself to disappear. Impossible.

“Excuse me.” She deserted the table still holding onto her napkin.

Halfway across the room, she literally ran into Chi-Chi.

“I was just on my way over. Everyone is gone now.”

“Good, let’s take another table.”

Chi-Chi frowned.

“Biddy and Jeremy need to talk business.” Serious business, she added to herself.

“They don’t need us?”

“No. Let’s just get a strategic table so we can make sure they aren’t disturbed.”

They sat down at a table across the room but with a view of the entrance and a less obvious view of Biddy and Jeremy, who were still in the same positions as when Lindy had left them.

She narrowed her eyes at them. Places, please. Curtain go.

Jeremy sat down. Lindy consigned him to his fate and turned her attention to Chi-Chi.

“Biddy and I spent the morning getting everything set for the performance on Saturday.”

“You’re incredible,” said Lindy. “How do you manage it?”

“Staying busy is the only thing that is keeping me from falling apart.” Chi-Chi looked as though she might fall apart anyway.

Lindy reached across the table to put her hand on Chi-Chi’s. “We all have absolute faith in Robert’s innocence.”

“Innocent men have gone to prison before.” Chi-Chi tried for a smile, but her lips twisted, and she hastily covered her mouth with her napkin.

“Marguerite’s lawyers are the best there are,” Lindy said with conviction. At least she assumed they were. “And Bill is working on finding out what really happened. He won’t give up.”

“You trust him, don’t you?”

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“Absolutely.” She was saved from wandering into that mine field by the waiter placing her plate in front of her. He poured Chi-Chi a cup of coffee.

“Should you be drinking that this late?” asked Lindy.

“Decaf. I’m having enough trouble sleeping as it is. Marguerite still insists that I stay at the house, but I miss the bungalow. There’s something about sleeping in your own bed . . . even if it’s empty.”

Chi-Chi struggled with her face again.

“It won’t be for long. I’m sure of it.”

After dinner, Lindy walked Chi-Chi back to the house. Sandiman informed her that Bill had not returned. She wandered back to the annex where Kate informed her that Annie had gone out with Donald. That was another situation that Lindy needed to deal with.

Glen’s accusation of her incompetence in handling her daughter still rankled. She returned to the house, too restless to go to her room.

She sat on the porch to wait for Bill to return. She would also be able to see when, and she had to admit ,
if
Annie came back to her room at the annex.

She was sitting on the stone steps, hands between her knees, rocking slowly back and forth like an inmate of Bedlam, when Bill’s gray Honda pulled up to the steps. Donald jumped out of the driver’s side and ran around to open the passenger door. Lindy jumped up.

Donald? Driving Bill’s car? Something had happened to Annie. Where was Bill?

Before her thoughts worked themselves into words, Annie bounded out of the back seat. She and Donald hoisted Bill out of the passenger’s side of the car.

In the porch light, Lindy could see a large scrape across his left cheek, and a smear of mud—no blood—under his nose.

She hurried down the steps. “What happened?”

“Lucky punch,” said Bill.

“You should have seen him, Mom.” Annie tried to take Bill’s arm, but he gently eluded her. “He was great.”

Ah, another conquest, thought Lindy. But she was grateful for this one. She followed them up to Bill’s room, Bill clutching his ribs while trying to fend of f Donald and Annie’s attentions.

Lindy went immediately into the bathroom and came back with a wet washcloth.

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“He saved my butt,” Donald explained.

“There were four of them,” said Annie. “Four of them.” She held up four fingers in case her mother had missed the point.

Lindy pushed Bill onto the bed. He grunted as he sat down.

“Four of whom?”

Annie and Donald began talking at once.

“These local guys—the same ones as before—”

“They came to the table and started harassing us—”

“And then—”

“They started pushing Donald—”

“I thought my goose was cooked for sure—”

“Bill was at the bar—”

“But we hadn’t seen him. We didn’t even know he was there.”

“And suddenly there he was—out of the blue.” Annie shot Bill an idolizing look.