Most Likely to Die (A Kate Jasper Mystery) (8 page)

- Eight -

“Or else what?” Wayne asked quietly. His brows were pushed too low for me to read his eyes, but I could see the intensity of his interest in the bulking of his shoulders.

“Or else they’ll be sorry,” Elaine replied just as quietly and crossed her arms, bulking up her own shoulders. She stuck out her face. “Real sorry.”

Something tingled on the back of my neck. Was it my hair standing up? I wouldn’t want to be in Elaine’s way if she wanted me to be sorry, whatever she meant.

I opened my mouth to say I’d be at Sid’s funeral, but one of Elaine’s children had something to say first. I hadn’t heard the girl’s entrance through the living room door, but I could certainly hear her once she was there.

“Eddie’s being a moronic little ingrate and Daddy says—” she began indignantly, her voice projecting across the vast room. I wasn’t sure if this was Dawn or Elyse, only that she was the oldest girl.

“Listen to what your daddy says,” Elaine instructed the girl impatiently. She made shooing motions with her hands. “Now get back upstairs.”

The girl put her hands on her hips and glared fiercely. But there was no real contest. She had probably learned the gesture from the woman she was glaring at. Mother ignored daughter and finally the girl shuffled out of the room with a sigh worthy of Olivier. I predicted the girl would be an actress when she grew up.

“My kids have it so easy,” Elaine confided once the girl was gone. “The best Montessori schools from the beginning. Personal computers for all of them, their own telephones, ballet lessons, karate lessons, whatever they want.

“Now with me and Sid it was different. We weren’t spoiled. And we were both only children. That’s one reason I had three kids. They’ll never be lonely like Sid and I were.”

She paused and looked my way.

“Cute kid,” I offered into the silence. “All of your children are cute.”

“And gifted,” Elaine added, uncrossing her arms. “Dawn played the lead dinosaur in
Dino-Mites
this year. And there was a lot of competition—”

“Was that the one who just came in?” I asked.

Elaine nodded, confirming my actress theory. Sometimes I thought I was getting as psychic as my friend Barbara.

“Now Elyse is a star soccer player. And she’s won first prize for her science projects two years in a row. And my Eddie is fluent in three languages already. And they’re all musical.”

Elaine paused again. I didn’t know what to say. Did she want another compliment about her children?

“At least you and Sid had each other,” Wayne put in.

“Did you know Sid and I were born three months apart?” Elaine demanded, bending forward eagerly.

Wayne and I shook our heads, feigning amazement at the coincidence.

Elaine nodded enthusiastically. “Listen,” she ordered. “Our fathers were brothers, even partners in a bottling business for a while. Real close, you know. They bottled apple juice. It was a family business. A cannery. It’s still going. Though Daddy sold it a long time ago. Uncle Simon, Sid’s father, never did as well with the bottling plant after Daddy left. But Daddy couldn’t handle Uncle Simon. Now I had my own problems with Daddy, but he was really a sweetheart underneath it all. Not Uncle Simon, though. He was a real s.o.b. through and through.”

“A hard man?” Wayne prompted.

“Huh!” Elaine snorted. “Hard wouldn’t cover it. He was a plain sadist. Beat Sid every day of his life. And not just hitting him, but at him all the time with his mouth for not being good enough. Always wanted Sid to be the best, but Sid just couldn’t.” She leaned back in her chair, her eyes out of focus. “Or maybe Sid just wouldn’t. Maybe he had just unconsciously
refused
to be the best for his father after all that abuse. Sid was stubborn. Couldn’t ever give in once he made up his mind. And Sid was smart. Smarter than people gave him credit for.”

“Good with people,” Wayne commented.

“Yeah,” Elaine agreed, leaning forward again. It had been the right thing to say. “He was a great salesman. He just wasn’t scholarship material. He never got great grades. God, he hated the smart kids. And the football stars.”

“But why?” I asked.

“Because they were what his father would’ve wanted him to be,” Elaine explained. “And what he couldn’t be. Uncle Simon made him go out for football too, but he was never that good for all of his size. But what a joker.” A smile touched her lips. “He did some great pranks on the other football guys, especially the star quarterback, do you remember him?”

I shook my head. Football hadn’t been my thing.

“Guy named Gary.” Elaine grinned broadly, looking all the more like Sid with those Sylvester the Cat cheekbones jutting out. “Man, Sid got him good. Gary was a real snot, thought he walked on water. But then this one time he really messed up, fumbled so bad he lost the whole game. The whole season. So Sid got the rest of the guys to strip him naked. Then they put girl’s underwear on him, poured beer all over him, tied him up, and then drove him downtown and dumped him in front of the police station. It was a riot. Boy, was Gary embarrassed.”

Elaine leaned back and laughed in memory.

I couldn’t even squeeze out a responding chuckle. My neck was tingling again. And my stomach was queasy. Because Gary must have been a lot more than embarrassed. He must have been humiliated. And scared shitless. Or maybe football stars aren’t subject to those kinds of feelings.

“What did the police do?” I asked softly.

“Oh, once they realized it was a prank, they let Gary go,” Elaine said, shrugging. Then she pulled her lips back in that Sid/Sylvester grin again. “But first they gave Mr. Star Quarterback a grilling he never forgot. He was there over three hours, I heard.”

If I’d been that guy, I could have killed Sid twenty-five years ago, I thought. Or twenty-five years later.

“Did Sid get in touch with Gary when he got back out here?” I asked.

“Uh-uh,” Elaine said thoughtfully. “At least, I don’t think so. They weren’t really friends. I mean, Gary wasn’t one of the gang. Anyway…” Her voice faltered.

Anyway, I decided, how could this Gary have electrocuted Sid if he didn’t even know about the party? I needed to put some reins on my imagination.

“Listen,” Elaine started up again. “Gary forgave Sid. He had to. Sid wasn’t ever malicious. He just knew how to have fun.”

“Just a prankster,” I murmured, wondering just when pranks crossed the line into pure sadism.

“He did some other good ones on Gary though,” Elaine told me, helping me to answer my own question. “Found a gay men’s magazine in San Francisco and planted it in Gary’s locker. No one ever knew but me. All the guys wondered about Gary from then on. And he found a little bottle of hair spray the same size as Gary’s deodorant and switched the labels so Gary sprayed his armpits with hair spray. God, Sid was such a riot!

“Him and Robert and me did some good ones too. When we were real little, we’d just go downtown and stare up into the sky for a long time. Then crowds would form and stare up too. It was real funny ‘cause there was nothing there.”

I allowed myself a genuine smile. That one sounded harmless at least. And funny in a way.

“Or we’d go around to strange men saying, ‘Daddy, Daddy, why’d you leave Mama?’ I never quite understood it at the time, but did we get reactions! These weird old guys would get all uptight and run away. That was one Robert dreamt up.” Elaine was relaxed now, lost in memory. At least for a while. Then her eyes came back into focus. “Still, Robert could be kinda stuck-up too. Always trying to outdo Sid with ideas. Though Sid didn’t seem to mind.”

“Was Sid in it with him on the fireworks?” I asked quickly.

“No,” Elaine answered just as quickly, squinting her eyes at me. “That was Robert’s show. Who told you that?”

“No one,” I admitted, deep-sixing the Sid-gave-Robert-the-fireworks theory once and for all. “I just wondered.”

“What did you and Sid think of the other guys in the gang?” Wayne asked before I could get myself into any more trouble.

“Well, he thought Charlie was an idiot,” Elaine drawled in answer. “Charlie had everything, you know. Rich parents. Smart in a way. But he was a complete dork. You wouldn’t believe what Sid put up with to help that guy out. And for what? Then Charlie turns on him.”

I kept my expression sympathetic. That probably had been the way Sid had seen it. No more free car. No instant access to Charlie’s sister. Complete betrayal.

“Now Jack was a different story,” Elaine went on. “He wasn’t dorky or stuck-up at all. And he really was a good musician. Remember, he was even in that rock ‘n’ roll band for a while.”

I did remember. Jack had been transformed when he played electric guitar, into someone completely and maniacally alive. And completely at odds with the quiet, good-natured kid he usually was.

“I even went out with Jack a few times,” Elaine confided, her voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper. “It was really cool, especially when he was playing in the band. But then he just seemed to give up. Gave up the band. Dropped out of college, I heard. I never knew what was going on with that guy. I still don’t.” She threw out her hands. “And now that snooty wife of his keeps him locked up like a prisoner or something. Sid was real good for him, coming back home and into Jack’s life again. But try telling that witch about it.”

“When did Sid come back out?” I asked.

“Oh, a couple of years ago. He sold hospital beds on the East Coast for a long time, but then he got laid off, so he came home.” Elaine wrapped her arms around herself for a moment. “God, it was good to see him again. Letters just aren’t the same. And he landed a job selling office furniture right off. He was good at it. But the company went bankrupt. The economy, you know.”

“How’d he get the job with Natalie?” I pressed.

“I was the one who told him about Natalie,” Elaine shot back, beaming. “Our company and hers are in competition on a lot of the same contracts. And, much as she’s stuck-up and all, her company does do good work. But it needed a better sales department. Up till that time, I think Natalie was her own sales department. So I told Sid about her. And the next thing you know he’s working for her. I told you he was a good salesman. He even sold himself to her—”

“I am so sick of watching TV I could just vomit,” came a familiar voice through the living room door. Dawn, if I remembered correctly. “TV is sooo simplistic. Anyway, Daddy says it’s almost time to go to Aunt Ursula’s—”

“You and Daddy are going to Aunt Ursula’s without me today,” Elaine told Dawn as she looked down at her watch. “But you’re right, it is time for us all to get going. I have to get to the Kanicks’.”

“Who are the Kanicks?” asked a new voice, the little boy.

“None of your beeswax,” Elaine replied, rising from her Victorian chair, looking for a moment like Queen Victoria herself for all her slenderness.

The boy blinked and turned away. His father did the same.

“That’s okay,” chimed in a third voice, the remaining girl, the youngest. “We’re going to Aunt Ursula’s. It’ll be really fun.”

“I’m sure you’ll have a
fabulous
time with your aunt!” Elaine snapped. “She’ll spoil you rotten as usual. Just remember who your mother is.”

“She doesn’t spoil us,” Dawn informed her mother. “She merely teaches us to see the world in a totally different—”

Elaine put her hands on her hips and glared Dawn to a stop. I was impressed. I felt like practicing the move myself for future reference. But I knew I’d never be able to pull it off. Except maybe on Wayne…

“Elaine,” Wayne offered diffidently. “Would you like a ride over to the Kanicks’?”

All eyes turned his way.

“No, no,” Elaine replied breezily. She took her hands from her hips and ratcheted into gracious hostess mode. “I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble. But thank you so much for coming.” She led us back to the front door and shook both of our hands, her children and husband forming a small parade behind her. “I’ll follow you in a minute.”

We were dismissed.

As the front door closed behind us, I could hear Elaine telling everyone to be good. I wondered if her husband was included in the order.

Once we got down the hill, I headed my Toyota back toward downtown Gravendale. Jack and his family lived in a house nearer to town than Elaine. One of the original Gravendale homes.

“Did I tell you that Jack and his family are living in the house that he grew up in?” I asked Wayne.

He shook his head. “I thought it was Aurora’s house.”

“Well, it was originally,” I explained. “But now Aurora is living in some kind of experimental community. At least, I think that’s what she said when she called to talk to me.”

“Huh,” Wayne muttered, his brows rising with interest.

“Wayne, why is it that everyone always has to talk to me?” I demanded abruptly. Irritation over my role as confidant had buzzed into my mind like a demented bee. Because this wasn’t the first time this role had been demanded of me. “Aurora wants ‘to talk.’ Becky had ‘to talk.’ Charlie. Elaine. And Pam—”

“Because you’re easy to talk to,” he replied quietly, cutting me off mid-diatribe.