The Throwbacks (19 page)

Mabel’s maid, Marsha, carried a tray with a pitcher and martini glasses into the room. Mabel took a glass and sat next to him. He stood to take the pitcher and helped Marsha hand out the rest of the glasses as he filled them.

“A toast to old friends—and new ones too.” David gave everyone his neutral smile. He felt tense, whether he looked it or not. He supposed they’d all notice as soon as he took a slug of the martini, but that didn’t stop him from washing back half the glass at once. They probably didn’t care. They all had questions on their own minds. Of course, they all pertained to him in some fashion or another. After all, he’d been the last man through the door.

He sat back down next to Grace. Oscar watched him, but with a kind face, almost pityingly. That did it.

“Grace, I’m afraid I was too hasty in dismissing you as my decorator. Do you think you might reconsider the assignment and see it through to its conclusion?”

A flood of conflicting emotions transformed her face. Surprise, puzzlement, joy, concern and back to joy, where it stayed when she answered him.

“Of course! I’d love to. You’re sure? There won’t be any difficulties?”

“I’ll behave. I should be able to work with you professionally. After all, you’ve been assisting me on the murder case in a way, so it’s the least I can do.” He took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Why, how bloody civilized of you.” Mabel took a second sip of her drink and looked at Oscar.

“Ah yes, the murder case. I should talk to you about that, David.” Oscar stood, moved to stand near the mantle and put his drink down there. David noticed he’d drunk only an indiscernible amount.

“As for your highly civilized notion of working with Grace, I don’t believe it for a moment,” Oscar continued. “You’re smitten, it’s obvious. I don’t want her taken advantage of, and I don’t want you involved with her. You’re far too old and world-weary for her.”

The Pixie laughed and Noodles barked. It was anyone’s guess whose side they were on, but David thought Mabel ought to be serving them popcorn to watch the show. He figured this was a good time to top off his drink.

“Oscar! How could you possibly say that about David?” Grace almost leapt from her seat. “Why, you and I were engaged and—”

David heard her words and seemed to have forgotten he was holding a glass and pitcher of martinis, because they both crashed to the floor. He stared with, he was sure, the epitome of a look of disbelief on his face. He stood and ignored the gasps of surprise at the crashed pitcher, not sure if they mourned the loss of perfectly good martinis, a priceless piece of crystal glassware or the most surprising—witnessing his complete loss of aplomb.

“Did I hear correctly, Oscar? You were
engaged
to Grace?” His voice sounded calm, but he vibrated as if he were in the surreal world of a hologram.

“I know that deadly voice. Don’t concern yourself, David. Grace and I broke it off years ago.” Their eyes locked. David knew it was the truth, and knew the heavy pounding of his heart was an overreaction of a very primal kind. He’d never felt more like a Neanderthal than this moment. He turned to Grace.

“And you were surprised that I was childhood friends with Oscar?”

Her lips formed that perfect stunned “Oh” without uttering a sound, and she begged him with her eyes to forget all about it. He hoped
she
had forgotten all about it—all about her romance with Oscar—of all the blokes in the world—and wondered all the more how there could be a more unhealthy union than one between him and her.

Mabel finished sipping her martini and chuckled.

“Don’t you think you’ve tortured yourself enough for the moment, David dear?”

“Whatever do you mean? No—don’t tell me. I really don’t want to know.”

“I know exactly what she means,” Oscar said.

“Me too,” said the Pixie with a look of a kid about to watch a schoolyard fight.

“Good, then you can explain it to me.” Grace stood and put her hands on her hips. “I don’t even know what’s going on here anymore. All I know is I can’t wait to finish decorating your townhouse, David. And I especially can’t wait to help you solve the murder.”

“I don’t think that would be wise,” Oscar said.

“I think that’s a smashing idea,” Mabel said.

“I agree. What do you say, Sherlock?” Pixie dared with a twinkle in her eye.

David turned to Grace. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble assembling this cast of characters to help me reconsider, so how can I possibly not reward your unique initiative? I would genuinely be delighted to have you decorate my home, and you can help with the murder case by keeping a lid on your friend Theresa.” He smiled at her and watched her face go through a range of reactions, as always with a little puzzlement thrown into that mix.

“Is everyone in this place daffy? You’re old enough to be her father, not to mention you’re far too cynical for my innocent Gracie.” Oscar squared off in front of David.

“What?” Grace said.

“Exactly. Since when is there an age requirement between a decorator and a client? Because if you were listening—that’s all we’re talking about here. That’s all we’re ever going to talk about.” David spared a glance for Grace and stared back at Oscar. Oscar folded his arms across his formidable chest and smiled through his polished teeth.

“Well, in that case, let’s have another round of those martinis, Mabel. I think we’ve come to an understanding,” Oscar said. Mabel harrumphed but signaled to Marsha for another pitcher full of the drinks.

“What do you think this is, Oscar, the goddamned UN?” Pixie stood. David noted it didn’t lend her much of an improvement in elevation. “Are we negotiating world peace or something? You two guys barely included Grace in your conversation—do you realize that?”

“It’s okay, Sophia. I’ll go along with the arrangement we negotiated,” Grace said. David could swear there was a touch of sarcasm coming from those sweet lips. But as he watched her smile at him in that warm, inviting way she had, there were no hints left of anything but pure innocent sensuality.

He had his work cut out for him.

“But what about the murder investigation?” Grace asked.

“That’s right, I do recall something about the twin brother of Rick Racer, the lieutenant governor, being murdered—is that what you’re working on?” Oscar asked. David didn’t think for a millisecond that it was an idle question. Interesting—and troubling.

“Of course,” David admitted, “the famous murder of the mayor’s daughter’s fiancé’s twin brother. I’ve been honored with the prestigious assignment of lead investigator on the case—a tryout for the Scotland Yard Exchange Program with the BPD.” Oscar didn’t reply, but seemed to mull it over while they all watched him. If David weren’t worried about what he’d found in the Interpol report, he’d be more amused by the situation.

“Do you have any leads?”

“Do you?” David asked back. He’d decided not to draw out the suspense. Oscar looked around at everyone present. They all looked back expectantly, and apparently not surprised at the possibility that Oscar may indeed have a lead.

Oscar made an attempt to laugh it off.

“Why would I have a lead? I’ve been off in an undisclosed location for years, minding my own business and playing it straight quite nicely, thank you.” He had only a slight, yet telltale strain in his voice.

“That business you’re minding…wouldn’t happen to be an import-export business now, would it?” David played his ace, handed to him by Interpol.

“So what if it is?”

“I may need an expert opinion,” David said. He’d got what he wanted—pretty much an admission—and he decided he’d hold off on a detailed discussion until he didn’t have an audience, and most especially an audience including Grace.

“Oh, Oscar! I’m so proud of you carrying on a legitimate business and staying out of trouble. I’m very happy for you. Are you married? Do you have children? We should catch up on everything.” Grace took Oscar’s arm. David told himself the instant clatter in his chest and pounding pulse so that his head felt like a steam locomotive about to blow had nothing to do with any jealous reaction to her obvious fondness for his dear childhood friend. Or was he a nemesis after all?

“We can catch up, but you know I can’t give you details since I’m in the witness protection program. They’d have a cow if they knew I was here as it is. But I’m not too worried. I was careful about getting here,” Oscar informed them.

“Oh brother.” Pixie rolled her eyes. Grace smacked her in the shoulder.

“Are you in danger right now?” Grace said.

“No, no, don’t worry about a thing, sweetheart. But I can’t stay long—I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

“You should stay here,” Mabel said. Oscar took a telling look at Grace before agreeing to Mabel’s offer, which did nothing to cool David’s steam engine. Nor did his heart stop clattering.

“I’d like to come by in the morning for tea if you don’t mind, and we can discuss things—catch up.” David’s voice sounded tight even to him. He was very unlike himself. They all looked at him, and Oscar smiled his stupid knowing little smile and even had the nerve to chuckle.

“Of course. I wouldn’t leave town without a tête-à-tête with you, my old friend. I think I can help you weather your little professional storm.” Oscar added more somberly and genuinely, “I’m sorry about your wife. You did the right thing.”

David instantly felt his emotions ease. The old fondness for his childhood friend slid back into place, as if he’d been waiting and holding the space for him in his heart all these years.

“How did you know?” Grace said. “How do you know everything, Oscar?” She was beaming at him, but David took a deep breath. His heart and blood pressure returned to something more resembling normal. Grace did not belong to Oscar, after all. He’d lost her. Grace also did not belong to him. A quelling thought. The Pixie rolled her eyes again and tugged at Grace’s arm. Noodles barked. It was unanimous.

“Grace, I suspect he’s been chatting it up with Mabel, who of course knows all and, to a select few lucky ones, will tell all,” David said. Mabel raised her brow and only smiled when Grace checked with her.

“Oh,” Grace said.

“Don’t be so disappointed,” Oscar said. “You can still think of me as special—I’ll give you plenty of reason for that. Why I may even—behind the scenes of course—be able to help our good friend David out with this very important case. That would make me a hero in your eyes, wouldn’t it?”

Graced bopped the arm she’d been holding onto and stepped away, relenting to Pixie’s tug.

“Of course you should help David if you can. I’m helping him too. It’s fun. And he’s brilliant—I love watching him at work.” She bent to pick up Noodles and managed to avoid looking David in the eye when she said it. She was trying to go along with the charade that they were nothing special to each other. Well, one thing was for sure, whatever they were to each other, it would be short-lived and then he would move on with his life. Again. Finally.

“I guess it’s time for us to go,” Grace said. She and Pixie and Noodles hugged everyone in sight—even the maid, Marsha—and then they left. David stood in the hall outside the parlor with the rest of them, feeling deflated.

“Aunt Mabel, if you don’t mind me leaving you alone with this reprobate, it’s been a long evening for me,” he said.

“Then poor Oscar will spend the rest of his evening alone, because I’ve had my quota of excitement to last for the next month. Or maybe I’m making up for last month,” she said.

“Who are you kidding? We’ve given you as much excitement as you’ve had since I left town.” Oscar took the old woman’s hand.

“Left town which time?” She chuckled.

David had to admit to himself that Oscar had always been her favorite of the unruly three of them. But he deserved that dubious honor. Oscar knew how to show respect for older people, especially women, in a way that was admirable and difficult to duplicate with the same elegance. Mabel left them and retired to her suite.

“Does Dan know you’re here?” David had to ask.

“No. I leave it to you to tell him as much as it’s comfortable for him to know. It goes without saying that I’d love to see him; I’d love to see his family. Jason must be a young man by now…” Oscar trailed off. His lonely plight became palpable in that moment. David took the man by the shoulders.

“I wanted to come back and save you from yourself every day since I left when we were fifteen years old. You know that?”

“Yeah. I read your letters,” Oscar said. He pulled David in again for another hug, a gesture and a habit for which David was grateful. “Don’t worry, David.” Oscar released him. “It wouldn’t have worked. Besides, here we are and I’ve never been better.” He gave David his ironic smile.

“I see. Truth be told, though, you’re probably doing better than I am at this point in my life, old friend. I would stay and have our discussion now, but I have to drop in on Dan. I’m leaving tomorrow to go to London to clear up some details.”

“In the middle of your important case?”

“Not good timing, but I’ll pull it off. With your help, it looks like—once again.” David walked to the door to let himself out.

“You may be surprised at how helpful I can be,” Oscar said before David closed the door behind him. He was not sure if that would be a good thing or bad. One thing was for sure: he couldn’t let Dan be involved in anything to do with Oscar officially. It was Dan’s home turf, after all—could be embarrassing. It may turn out that he would need to play the game of “unofficial conduit of important information garnered from dubious yet credible sources.” How fortunate for him.