Plaster and Poison (16 page)

“Wayne got those records from the phone company. There’s nothing interesting there, either. A call to Cora in the morning, to arrange to meet for lunch, Cora said. A couple of calls back and forth with the office at Devon Highlands, to check figures, and then a call from Mary Elizabeth Stenham in the afternoon.”
I wrinkled my brows. “What did Mary Elizabeth want?”
“No idea,” Derek said, “but I doubt it was anything sinister. All the Stenhams plus Melissa call Clovercroft all the time, sometimes more than once a day.”
“Right.” That made sense. “And no one has called with a demand for ransom or anything like that, I take it. Steve’s well off, right? ”
“Steve
is
well off,” Derek nodded. “Not sure he’s
that
well off, though. He may be able to raise a couple hundred thousand in cash, but there are people who can come up with much more than that. In any case, we have no idea whether anyone’s called, because we can’t find Steve, either.”
“Has Wayne put out an APB on him, too? ”
Derek shook his head. “Not yet. We don’t know if he’s missing. Or how long he’s been gone. He could just be on a business trip, or something.”
“So do you think he came here and got Bea? Or did someone else get them both? Or what? ”
“I don’t know,” Derek said, frustration edging his voice. “I don’t know anything. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
I nodded, hooking my arm through his. “Let’s go see the others. Try to forget about all of this for a while. I realize that probably isn’t possible, but there’s nothing we can do right now, and those are our families out there. Let’s go make sure they’re getting along.”
“Good idea.” He managed a smile as he looked down on me. “And tomorrow, if Beatrice isn’t back, I’ll start turning Clovercroft over, stone by stone, if I have to.”
“I’ll help you,” I promised and squeezed his arm as we headed down the hallway toward the living room.

14

The lasagna was excellent, of course, and the company equally so, but Bea’s disappearance did put a pall on the gathering. Cora did her best to seem normal, but it was obvious that she was deeply worried, and a few times I caught her staring off into space, ears almost visibly straining, as if she were listening to something just out of range. When the phone rang about halfway through dinner, she jumped like a scalded cat and dived for it.
“Yes? ”
From the expression on her face, the caller wasn’t Beatrice. Cora’s face puckered, and she closed her eyes for a second. “Yes, Alice. No, no news.”
Alice talked in her ear, and Cora’s eyebrows rose. “You did? Really? That’s interesting. All right. Yes, I’ll let them know. Thanks for telling me. And for your sacrifice.”
Alice spoke again, and then they both said good-bye and Cora turned back to the table, where we all sat staring at her like attentive children.
“Sacrifice? ” Dr. Ben said.
“It was Alice.” Cora went back to her seat at one end of the rectangular dining table, flags of high color on her cheekbones now.
“And?”
“She’s spent the evening in a bar near Steve’s work, getting chummy with the receptionist. The woman wasn’t willing to tell her anything earlier in the day, but Alice got the impression that she knew something, so she waited until the office closed at five o’clock and waited for the receptionist to come out at the end of the day, and then offered to buy her a drink. Long story short . . .”
“Too late for that,” Derek said, but affectionately.
His stepmother sent him a look, equally affectionate, before she continued. “Once she was away from the office, and had a drink or two inside her, she told Alice that not only was Steve not at work today, he hasn’t been there all week.”
“Really? ”
“That’s right,” Cora confirmed. “The woman said he called on Monday morning, just after she came to work, and said he was taking a few personal days. He’s been working for them for two years without a vacation. Apparently whatever case he’s been involved with is at a point where it’s OK for him to be gone, and so he hasn’t been there for several days.”
“Interesting,” Dr. Ben said. Cora nodded.
“So do you think he’s here? ” Mom asked, looking from one to the other of us. “In Waterfield?”
“It’s possible,” Derek allowed.
“It’s likely,” Cora corrected. “Where else would he go? He has no family, and he hasn’t taken a vacation for two years. It’s not likely he’d suddenly get a hankering for the beach. But if it finally sank in that Bea wasn’t going to come back to him of her own accord, and that if he wanted her back, he’d have to go get her—then it makes perfect sense that he’d come here.” She got to her feet again. “Excuse me. I should call Wayne Rasmussen.”
She headed back to the telephone.
The conversation continued, with sober excitement, but as I listened to the others make guesses as to where in Waterfield or down east Maine Steve might be holed up, and what they could do to find him, I found myself thinking that while this was certainly useful information, it didn’t really change anything. Beatrice was still just as gone. But at least the news that Steve seemed to be gone, too, made it appear a little more likely that they were together, making us all more hopeful that nothing bad had happened to Beatrice.
After a few minutes, Dr. Ben must have had enough of the speculation, too, and turned to me. “I’m so sorry, Avery. Derek reminded me that you were interested in talking to me about my great-uncle William. He mentioned it a couple of weeks ago, and I plain forgot. Tell me again what’s been going on? ”
I went over the story of the initials once more, and this time added what Mom, Noel, and I had discussed earlier in the day. I even dug the paperwork out of my bag and handed it to him.
“I’m afraid I don’t know anything about his matters of the heart,” Dr. Ben said apologetically when he had finished looking at my—admittedly skimpy—research. “He lived and died long before my time, and I can’t remember anyone ever talking much about him. I didn’t even know that he had died from strychnine poisoning until Derek mentioned it.”
“Derek said it could have been an accident, that they used strychnine as medicine back then? ”
Dr. Ben nodded. “Along with a lot of other substances we’ve since realized are deadly. Like arsenic, which pretty ladies used to get clear skin and sleek hair. That’s a possibility, but if the navy gave him something, surely they would have chalked it up to an accident instead of making it sound like this.” He tapped the printout with a fingernail.
“The article does make it sound like something more sinister happened,” I admitted. “What about suicide? Or not suicide exactly, but more of an accidental suicide: Maybe William was trying to make himself sick to avoid being shipped out, and then he took too much . . . ? ”
“That’s also possible,” Dr. Ben nodded. “Poisoning does usually include vomiting, chills, fever, and the like. He might have thought ingesting poison would make him just sick enough to get out of active duty.”
“Or someone killed him.”
Dr. Ben nodded.
“But you don’t know who? No family stories about Uncle William? No rumors?”
The doctor shook his head. “Not a one, I’m afraid. Like I said, I didn’t even know the cause of death until Derek mentioned it. I don’t think he was married, for what that’s worth, but then again, I don’t think he was very old when he died.”
“When was he born?” The newspaper article hadn’t mentioned anything about that.
“I’m not sure, exactly. Around the turn of the century, I believe. My grandfather was his younger brother, and he was born just on this side of 1900. We have an old Bible somewhere with a family tree. It’d be in there.”
“I’d love to see it,” I said.
“I’ll show it to you after dinner. And we have some old photographs sitting around, too. People weren’t good about taking pictures back then, since it was costly, and regular people didn’t have cameras, but there may be one of William.”
“Great.”
By now, the others had finished their conversation, too, and Dr. Ben raised his voice. “Let’s talk about something that isn’t depressing for a while. No murders, recent or old, and no missing persons, either. Noel, it’s your first time in Waterfield, isn’t it? How do you like it? ”
Noel hesitated, searching for a safe subject. With murder and kidnapping off the table—our more immediate concerns—he settled for the default, the weather. He liked Waterfield, he said, but thought he’d have enjoyed it more in the summer. Now he was cold all the time, and he missed the consistency of the California weather, with its seventy-five-degree Fahrenheit temperatures whether it was summer or winter, spring or fall. From there, the conversation went on to how Mom liked living in California, with its lack of seasons, after spending her entire life on the east coast. I concentrated on eating my lasagna and salad and let the others talk, looking from one to the other and watching their interactions.
I wanted Derek’s family to like mine, and I wanted mine to like his, and it seemed I was in luck and they did. I had thought they would, but you can’t ever be entirely sure. I didn’t know Noel that well myself, for one thing, and I’d really known the Ellises for only six months or so. But although Derek and I didn’t have any kind of understanding—we’d never really discussed the future beyond deciding to go into business together, and that was supposed to be on a project-to-project basis—I felt like it was important that our families got along.
Derek had never really told me how he felt about me. I mean, I knew he liked me. I knew he enjoyed my company, and he enjoyed working with me, and he liked the kissing and all the rest of it, but I knew all that because he showed it, not because he said so. I don’t think the word “love” had passed his lips. Then again, the word “love” hadn’t passed mine, either. Every time it got as far as my tongue, I caught it and put it back. Partly because I didn’t want to be the first to say it, but also because I wasn’t sure of what I was feeling. I was crazy about him, yes. I was
in love
with him. I liked him a lot, besides that. And the kissing and all the rest of it were certainly nice. He could make my heart beat faster just by looking at me a certain way. But I’d thought it was true love before and found out I was wrong, and I didn’t want to make that mistake again. Not with Derek.
Cora came back about halfway through the conversation and joined in. I let them talk, and Derek did the same thing, occasionally nudging my foot under the table and shooting a glance my way. I wondered if he had worried about our parents getting along, too, or whether he was just playing footsie because he enjoyed it.
After the food was eaten and the table cleared, Derek brought out the whoopie pies and distributed them, and we all got busy chowing down on chocolate cake with vanilla cream filling. Once those were devoured, too, Derek and I loaded the dishwasher—the mothers had done the cooking, so the children could clean up—and then I sought out Dr. Ben.
“Can I see those photographs now? ”
“Sure.” He nodded to Derek. “You know where they are, son.”
“Bottom drawer of the buffet? ” He headed for it.
Dr. Ben nodded. “The family Bible should be there, too. Why don’t you bring it all over to the dining room table so you can spread out. The rest of us can go sit in the living room.”
Derek came back carrying a big, thick, leather-bound book so old that the calfskin binding left residue on my fingers when I opened it. The paper was onionskin, so thin it crinkled.
“The family tree should be on the inside of the front cover,” Dr. Ben said over his shoulder as he squired Cora out of the dining room. “Have fun.”
“Thanks.” I grinned after him.
Derek pulled up a chair and sat down next to me. “So what are we looking for? ”
“Anything relating to William, I guess. Here he is.” I pointed to the name. “Your dad was right.”
William Aaron, the family tree said, eldest son of Mallessa, born Carter, and Malcolm Ellis. Missed being a New Year’s baby by a few hours. Born January second, 1900, died June sixth, 1918. Never married. Survived by his mother, one brother, Benjamin—Dr. Ben’s namesake—and two sisters, Elizabeth and Mary Jane, all of them younger than he was.
“Nothing else of interest there,” Derek said and reached for the stack of photos. I shook my head and closed the Bible, pushing it to the side.
Most of the photos were much more recent, beginning with the last few years. Ben and Cora on their wedding day, with Derek as best man, handsome in a well-fitting suit, and Alice and Beatrice as bridesmaids in sea foam green dresses. It looked like the ceremony had taken place in the garden behind the house, with the Reverend Bartholomew Norton, Derek’s friend from high school, officiating. There were pictures of Ben and Cora sitting around the house. Pictures of Ben painting and Cora gardening. Christmas dinner with everyone around the table: Ben and Cora, Alice and Lon, Beatrice and a nerdy-looking type with glasses who must be Steve. Derek and Melissa.
I put that one down without comment, but the next one I wasn’t able to. “Your wedding day? ”
Derek leaned closer. “Sorry.”
“No problem. It’s not like I was unaware you’d been married.” It’s something different to actually see it, though. “You didn’t have a church wedding? ”
Derek shook his head. “Too much in a hurry. We got married on a Thursday because that was the only day I didn’t have a rotation. At the courthouse.”
I nodded, unworthy jealousy rolling in my stomach. They were so young and clearly deliriously happy. He had the biggest, goofiest grin on his face, and both his arms around her, and Melissa . . .
My eyes narrowed. She looks expensive and elegant now, but ten or eleven years ago, when they met and got married, she was breathtakingly lovely. Her hair, much shorter these days, hung down below her shoulders back then, like a fall of pure moonlight, and she looked ethereal in a pale, creamy white dress with a tight bodice and flowing skirt. She was carrying a small bouquet of what looked like lily of the valley, instead of the ostentatious spray of roses and baby’s breath I would have expected, and—much as I hated to admit it, because I really wanted to believe that she had no redeeming qualities whatsoever and that she’d only married him because she wanted to be married to a doctor and he was on his way to becoming one—she looked happy. Her eyes shone, and her smile was relaxed. She had one arm lifted, her hand caressing his cheek, and she was looking up at him with what looked like genuine emotion.
“Lovely,” I said.
Derek nodded, eyes still on the picture. “She was. I thought she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.”
“I know,” I said. “You told me.”
He glanced at me. And then kept looking. After the silence had dragged on for long enough to become quite uncomfortable, to a point where my cheeks were as bright as Rudolph’s nose, he leaned forward and kissed me. Softly. And long enough to take all my breath away. Again.
“What was that for? ” I asked, after he had straightened up and I had gotten my voice back.
He smiled. “Just because I could. And because I want you to realize that you don’t have to worry about Melissa. She may have been pretty, but so is foxglove. Until you try to eat one, and then it kills you.”
I giggled, it was so unexpected.
“I was twenty-three, Tink. Just a baby. She was gorgeous and knew what she wanted. I didn’t have a chance.”
“She looks happy,” I pointed out.
Derek looked at the photograph and shrugged. “No reason why she wouldn’t be. She’d gotten what she wanted. She was married and to a future doctor. Why wouldn’t she be happy? ”
“So you don’t regret that it didn’t work out between you two? ”
His eyebrows shot up. “Hell, no. That last year or two were so miserable I would have paid her to leave.”
“Good thing you didn’t have any money.” Since this was when he had stopped being an MD and started being a handyman, and that’s why Melissa decided she’d had enough. “She would have taken you for everything you had.”
“She was too thrilled to land Ray Stenham,” Derek said with a shrug. “She was happy to see the back of me. Here”—he reached out—“I’ll throw that away.”
He plucked the photograph from my hand.
I took it back. “That’s not necessary. She’s part of your life. Always has been, or at least for as long as I’ve known you. It’s not like tearing up the wedding picture will change the fact that I see her every day and she delights in rubbing it in.”
I put the photograph facedown on the pile and continued looking. Pictures of Derek as a teenager gave way to pictures of Derek as a child, with a woman with fair hair and the same blue eyes as his.