The Guest List (26 page)

Bobby leaned close to Abby. “Aren’t you worried that the real murderer will try to stop you?”

“The book is already with the publisher, Bobby. It’s too late to stop us or the book now.”

“I meant to try to kill you.”

“Nah!” Abby said with false confidence. “How would he … or she … find me? I used my pseudonym.”

“Wait a minute,” Donovan said in a voice that gave him total complete silence. “Bobby’s right, Abby. You could be putting yourself in danger. If you have proof, you need to go to the authorities with it so they can nab the guy.” He looked from Abby to Mallory. “Are you sure you aren’t just making this up? This sounds like a publicity stunt to sell books and maybe get a movie deal.” Donovan’s eyes glittered like polished sapphires.

Carol finally spoke. “This is serious, Abby. What kind of proof do you have? Can you tell us?”

Abby shook her head. “It’s a long and complicated story, Carol. Just read the book when it comes out. Oh, and that reminds me of something I wanted to tell you. I’m going to have a publishing party in February, and I want all of you to
come. I’m going to have it catered and everything. Flowers, balloons, band, fortune-teller, the whole nine yards.”

“Will the book be out that soon?” Carol asked. “I thought you said you just turned it in.”

“I did. It will be out in March, but I thought I’d have the party in February. I don’t know the date yet, but I’ll be sending out invitations. I expect you both to be there in tux and gown. It’s black tie. You should see Mallory’s gown. What there is of it.” She grinned. She put her hand on Bobby’s arm. “You too, sport.”

“I have to wear a tux?”

“Yep. That’s what black tie means. Time to grow up, kiddo. You can bring a date if you want.”

Lunch arrived. Abby welcomed the break. Mallory discreetly tapped Abby’s knee, a warning to get ready for more.

“Abby and I were talking the other day, and we wondered if you saved any of our parents’ personal effects. I know they didn’t have a lot, but we’d be grateful to have anything, their wedding rings, an old watch, letters, photographs. Anything at all.”

“Good Lord, I forgot,” Donovan said. “Of course I saved some of their things for you. I saved all of your mother’s jewelry, pictures of them when they first met … oh, and, your mother’s diaries. In fact, there are two boxes of stuff in the attic over the garage,” Donovan said without hesitation. “You forgot about them, too, didn’t you, Abby?”

“I don’t recall you ever mentioning the boxes. All I remember is Carol saying she saved the newspaper article about my parents’ death.”

“Yes, that’s in there, too,” Donovan said, his voice taking on a hard edge. “I’ll have Bobby get them down tomorrow. You can either come and get them, or he can bring them over. Whatever is easier for you.”

“That would be great, wouldn’t it, Mallory?”

“Mama kept diaries?” Mallory asked.

Donovan nodded.

“How far back do they go?”

“I have no idea. I never read them. But there are a number of them. Eight or ten, anyway. I don’t remember.”

“Oh, by the way,” Abby said, remembering something that hadn’t been on the list. “We found Mama’s urn. Actually,” she said laughing, “it was never lost. Mallory had it all along. I just didn’t know it.” Abby looked at Carol, whose face drained of color, then to Donovan, who was sipping the scalding coffee in his cup.

“I’m really looking forward to showing you girls around the village,” Carol said, changing the subject. “You’ve never seen anything like this in your life. Donovan did himself … all of us … proud.”

“What we’ve seen so far is very impressive.” Abby’s thoughts turned wild as she tried to think of a way to maneuver the conversation the way she wanted it to go. “I bet you haven’t had a moment to yourself in months, have you, Donovan?”

Donovan guffawed. “I’ve had three work crews going twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, for the last five weeks. I’m surprised I haven’t worn ruts in the road going back and forth between here and home. I haven’t been anywhere, not even into a convenience store in weeks. After today, I don’t care if I never see this place again.”

“That’s not true, Donovan, and you know it,” Carol said, shaking her finger at him.

So much for where Donovan was when Dr. Oldmeyer died, Abby thought, sliding a sideways glance at Mallory.

“Are either of you romantically involved?” Donovan asked, as the waitress refilled his coffee cup.

Abby stiffened. She wondered if she could answer the question without giving anything away. “I’ve been dating a guy pretty regularly for a few months,” she said hoping to leave it at that.

“Oh?” Carol’s interest was obviously piqued. “Tell us about him. Does he live near you? What does he do for a living?”

Something in Abby snapped. “Oh, no, Carol. What is it they say? Once burned, twice shy? I learned my lesson telling you about Connor. So if you don’t mind, I think I’ll keep my new romance to myself.”

Carol’s face registered shock. “Abby, how can you say such a thing to me?”

“Because it’s true. You even admitted it to me. Don’t you remember?”

Donovan scowled, his brows meeting in the middle of his forehead. “I’m sorry, Abby. I wish we could unring the bell. However, in our own defense, we were just looking out for you in our own misguided way.” He whipped out his wallet and tossed bills on the table. “I assume everybody’s finished.” He didn’t wait for an answer but walked around the table and out of the restaurant, wearing his anger like a badge.

Abby and Mallory didn’t speak until they were inside the car with the doors closed.

“He was definitely pissed,” Abby said. “Donovan is usually so in control, but he wasn’t just now. I’d say he pretty much lost it there for a few minutes.”

“I’d say so,” Mallory agreed. “How do you think we did? We covered everything on our list.”

“Yes, but we didn’t solve anything. We found out that Donovan was the big contributor but Carol was the one who made the decision
not
to contribute. That caught him off guard. He told us where he was when Constance was killed, and I guarantee you he can prove it. He answered our question about our parents’ stuff, and I think it’s pretty clear he hasn’t been hiding it. And you saw that he didn’t even flinch when I mentioned finding Mama’s urn. So what all of this says is … nothing. Absolutely nothing. Which is neither more nor less than what we had when we started. I’m starting to get a headache.”

“Did you know Mama kept a diary?”

“No,” Abby said as she followed Donovan out of the parking lot.

“I wonder if she wrote in her diary about her affair or about me and my real father.” Mallory smiled when Abby glanced her way. “I’ll bet he goes through the boxes and takes out anything he thinks might incriminate him before he gives them to us.”

“Mallory,” Abby said wearily, “you have to stop trying to make a quarter out of fifteen cents.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. We’re going to have to try to get Bobby alone,” Mallory said, completely ignoring Abby’s comment. “Remember that scenario we ran by him in the hospital? He’s probably thinking about the closet shelf, the castle, and maybe the urn. He might have seen it and not realized what it was. He knows now. He’s going to think we betrayed him.”

“You’re right but what are we going to say? We think your dad is a murderer? I-don’t-think-so. We’re here.”

The whole scene was picture-perfect, right down to the manicured shrubbery and intricate-colored flagstone walkways. The lawns were golf-course green with young oaks that would one day turn into mighty trees to shade the winding streets. The four-unit buildings were two stories high and painted a pristine white. Green-and-white-striped awnings shaded the front windows. Two matching rockers in Charleston green sat on each small front porch along with a clay pot of bright yellow chrysan-themums.

Abby shaded her eyes to see down the winding street. “I never in my life thought I’d see a real Stepford community. It’s too damn perfect. Nothing is out of place. For God’s sake, there isn’t even a leaf on the grass. Where are the trash cans? There are no cars. The only thing missing is a bunch of robots. It’s spooky.”

“I’ll second that,” Mallory said. “Shhh, here comes Carol.”

“What do you think?” she said, waving her arm expansively.

“Really tidy. Excessively neat. Everything seems …
perfect,”
Mallory said.

Abby was at a loss for words. Carol appeared to accept their reaction as a compliment.

“Would you like to see the inside of the model? It’s the one Donovan is selling to Mrs. Lascaris.”

“The raisin-cookie lady from New Jersey? How did that come about?” Abby asked.

“Oh, he visited her a couple of weeks back, when Bobby was in the hospital. You know Donovan, he felt sorry for her because her children had moved away and she seemed low on funds.”

“So where is she?” Mallory asked. “I can’t wait to see her again after all these years. I wonder if she’ll even remember me.”

“She was supposed to have lunch with us, but she called and said she wasn’t feeling too well. It’s probably all the excitement. Donovan is going to have her picked up at her hotel and brought here for the dedication, then she officially moves in. She’s going to be here all alone until the other owners move in the first of the year. Donovan engaged the entire security force just for her. Do you believe that? He says a gated community is a gated community, and that calls for top-of-the-line security. That was one of the major selling points. Every single unit has been sold.”

Abby stepped over the threshold and was reminded of the day she entered her own house for the first time and saw all the perfection. She craned her neck to see if there was a green ceramic bowl with yellow roses in the dining room. There was, dead center in the middle of the table, just the way hers had been in the kitchen.

“It’s so bright and light and airy,” Mallory said. She dropped back a step, at which point she crossed her eyes and screwed up her face. “Oh, look, Abby, here are your books, just waiting to be read. That’s a really nice touch, Carol.”

“Donovan liked the idea. Do you think the silk trees are too much? I just couldn’t make up my mind.”

“They’re perfect,” Mallory said.

“Do the dishes match?” Abby asked.

“Match what?”

“The pots and pans and the carpet in the kitchen.”

“Yes, why?” Carol said.

Abby shrugged. “I just wondered. What about the bathroom?”

“There are two. One is really a powder room. I did them in blue and white. Fresh and kind of powdery if you know what I mean.”

“Did you fill her refrigerator, freezer, and pantry?” Abby asked.

Carol wrinkled her nose. “Donovan insisted. There must be a dozen boxes of raisins and four or five sacks of flour for her cookie baking. So, do you like it?”

“Very much,” both girls said in unison.

Carol led the way outside. “I think we have time for a short stroll. Over there we have a movie theater, a supermarket, a drugstore, a gas station, an entire little village with one-of-akind shops. We actually had to hold a drawing to decide which shops we wanted. We had a mile-long list of applicants. As Donovan said, this is the wave of the future. We have two churches and one synagogue. A person could move in here and never have to leave.”

“Kind of like the Amish country villages. Remember that movie,
Witness?
A criminal could move in here and no one would ever know,” Mallory said brightly. “Is that a pool?”

“Yes, and to your right is the park,” Carol said, pointing off to the right. “There’s also a tennis court and a clubhouse. Farther out is a nine-hole golf course. Donovan has certainly come a long way from those days when he used to drive that backhoe for that awful company he worked for in New Jersey. Moving here was the smartest thing he ever did. Of course, he
was always a hard worker,” she said, smiling. “We need to start heading back. The speeches are going to take a little while, and then everyone is going to want to see Mrs. Lascaris move in. She told me on the phone that she wears Depends. I hope she doesn’t leak all over the furniture.”

Mallory’s tone of voice dropped to that of chilled milk. “Will it make a difference? I mean if she bought this place and it’s hers, what business is it of yours or anyone else what she does with it?”

Carol whipped around, her face pinched with anger. “I’m trying, Mallory, I’m really trying. There was no need for you to make a remark like that. None at all. You haven’t changed one damn bit.”

“Neither have you, Carol. Guess that kind of makes us even,” Mallory shot back.

“Which way is the clubhouse?” Abby asked.

“That way,” Carol said, then pointed up ahead. “I have to lock Mrs. Lascaris’s door. They’re going to make a big production of her opening it with her key. I’ll meet up with you at the clubhouse.”

“You really had to set her off, didn’t you? It’s okay. You had the guts to say what I was thinking,” Abby said. “If I didn’t know before, I know now: She hates us both.”

Mallory stared at her sister for a long minute before she fell into step with her for the walk to the clubhouse.

Arms swinging, Abby and Mallory walked to the clubhouse to find Donovan standing next to an elderly lady. “Ah, here you are,” he said, watching them cross the lawn. “Mrs. Lascaris, these are those ‘little tykes’ you were wondering about. This is Mallory, and this is Abby.”

“My goodness you girls are all grown-up. The last time I saw you both you were just little bitty things and so sad.”

“And you baked us cookies and made us feel better,” Mallory said. “Raisin cookies. They were the best cookies I ever ate.”

Donovan put his arm around Mrs. Lascaris. “As soon as Estelle settles in, she’s going to start baking cookies again, so you girls will have to invite yourselves over.”

“Not a problem,” Abby said. “I’d come even without the cookies.”

“Here comes Carol,” Donovan said. “You remember my wife, don’t you, Mrs. Lascaris?”

Mrs. Lascaris’s happy expression vanished, wiped away to be replaced by what looked to Abby as astonishment. “Why, yes,” she said. “I just didn’t realize you were the one.”

“The one what?” Carol questioned her.