Daisy didn’t hear from Helena or Grover until Sunday that week, but she barely noticed because she was so busy with the assignments Mark John had given her. Helena finally called to invite Daisy to a concert with her and Bennett the following Friday evening and Grover called to talk late Sunday night.
“Any news?” Daisy asked.
“I just got off the phone with one of the detectives,” he said. “He told me Melody had an alibi that checks out. They want to question me again. What do you think that means?”
That was bad news. “I wish I knew,” Daisy replied. “So what’s her alibi?”
“Her mother,” Grover said with a snort. “What mother wouldn’t provide an alibi if her child was suspected of murder?”
He made a good point.
“When are you going to talk to the detectives?” Daisy asked.
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Are you taking a lawyer?” Daisy asked.
Silence. Daisy had her answer.
“Grover, you’re making a big mistake,” she warned, exasperated by his stubbornness.
“You have to let me do this my way,” he said quietly.
“Then why did you call me?”
“Just for reassurance,” Grover said.
Daisy winced, knowing she had provided anything but reassurance to him. She had probably only made matters worse, she thought.
“I’m sorry, Grover. I should be more supportive. Of course you need to do what you think is best. I just worry about you, that’s all.”
“I worry about me, too,” he said. He chucked, but Daisy knew he was forcing himself.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Daisy asked.
“I would, but I know they won’t let you into the interview. You should probably just go to work.”
“All right, if you say so. But I’m available if you change your mind.”
“Thanks, Daisy. I appreciate it. Anything going on with you?”
Daisy winced, remembering how she had acted trying to hide from him and Tish at the bakery. “It’s been crazy at work. Mark John handed out an obscene number of assignments, all with a quick turnaround, and I’ve been working almost non-stop. Are you still retaining clients?”
“About half,” he said. “Some have cancelled and been honest about it, you know, saying that because I’m involved in a murder investigation it would be best to cancel the contract. I don’t blame them. But there are clients who are sticking by me. Summer party season is kicking into high gear, so I’ve been busy. I’m glad because it helps take my mind off things. Then when I’m not out doing a party, I’m in the office shoring up inventory and planning menus and all the other things I have to do to stay afloat.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to help.”
“That’s all right. It sounds like you’ve been as busy as I have.”
“There’s a light at the end of the tunnel, though. Eventually the police are going to figure out who killed Walt and you’ll be off the hook. Frankly, my money is still on Melody. Maybe the police will take another look at her alibi and she’ll be arrested.”
“I don’t care who they arrest, as long as it’s not me and I can get on with my life,” Grover said. “Have you found out any more about Brian’s test-cheating scandal?”
“No. Brian was actually in my office the other day and I just couldn’t bring myself to ask him about it. It’s kind of a sensitive subject.”
“It must be,” Grover agreed.
“Hang in there. I’m still trying to figure it all out.”
“Thanks. You’re the best,” Grover said. His voice was warm, despite all the worries weighing on his mind.
Daisy hung up and stared at the phone thoughtfully. She needed to find a way to help him. He didn’t deserve the damage to his reputation or the worries that accompanied his situation. It didn’t help that she had been too timid to ask Brian about the scandal that cost him his job. Or that Melody’s mother had provided her an alibi.
At least Grover hadn’t mentioned Tish once. Thank goodness.
Daisy had thought more than once over the week, and usually with a twinge of guilt, that she hadn’t taken a look at the dime novel Brian had given her. Once her deadlines had passed, she would need to settle down and read it. It wasn’t fair to Brian that she hadn’t even attempted to read the book, as she knew he was waiting for her to discuss it. And she knew the Library of Congress would be able to care for the book far better than she could; she wanted to get it back to Brian so he could donate it as soon as possible.
But she was too tired to take a look at it that night. All she wanted was to curl up in bed and drift off to sleep.
And that’s exactly what happened, until a phone call jarred her from her dream in the middle of the night.
“Hello?” she answered, her voice groggy and slow.
A muffled sob erupted on the other end of the line, and Daisy stared at the phone in confusion. “Who is this?”
“It’s Jude.”
“What’s wrong?” Daisy asked, immediately awake and alarmed. “What’s happened?”
“I can’t find Mark John. He isn’t answering his phone and he said he would call me tonight.”
Daisy let out an annoyed sigh. “Is that all? I’m sure it’s nothing. He’s had a tough week and he’s under a lot of pressure at work right now. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“But what if he’s lying dead somewhere?” Jude asked, her voice breaking and the sobbing starting again.
“Jude, this is Washington. No one lies dead anywhere for long without someone finding the body.” Daisy winced when she heard herself say such insensitive words. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me. But I really don’t think you have anything to fret about. I’m sure he’s fine.”
“If he’s fine, then why doesn’t he answer my calls?” Jude asked, a hint of challenge in her voice.
“Maybe his phone died. Maybe he lost it. Maybe he left it at work. Maybe the ringer’s off. There could be a thousand innocent reasons he’s not answering his phone right now. You need to get some sleep.”
“You really think he’s all right?”
“I’m sure of it.”
“I hope so.”
Daisy had a hard time going back to sleep after Jude’s phone call. Her heart was still beating fast and she had to admit it was odd that Mark John wasn’t home in the middle of the night on a Sunday and not answering his phone.
She tossed and turned for an hour before deciding to get up and use her time for something other than being frustrated and increasingly angry at Jude for waking her up. She pulled on her white gloves and reached for the dime novel, which she had placed on her nightstand. She turned to the first page and began reading.
The Widower’s Curse
By Harold Henderson
It was only a matter of time before this story would come to be told aloud. It has been whispered and bandied about among a discrete circle of persons for years and the public record must now be set straight.
The Widower Sheppard was a man of ugly disposition. Oh, he hadn’t always been like that. He used to love and was loved in return, but certain family traits wormed their way into his mysterious heart and into his diseased mind as he grew older and he eventually became embittered and hateful. His father had been the same way, so it wasn’t surprising that when the Widower Sheppard was finally laid to rest no one could be bothered to attend his funeral, save for the gravedigger and the widower’s children, who were glad to see him buried, may the Lord forgive them.
Young Sheppard (who, at that time, was of course not yet a widower) began life with the promise of riches and success. He was born into a family of privilege and spent his youth in various pursuits common among the wealthy, such as traveling abroad, sailing, horse racing, attending the theater, and playing at cards.
One fateful day, Young Sheppard was at his supper club with a group of like-minded friends when he received sobering news. The valet of the club handed him a note, folded so no one else could read what was written there. Unfolding the note and holding it close to his chest in order to keep its contents private, Young Sheppard read the words that his father’s valet had written and had delivered to the supper club. “Please make haste and return home, young sir, as your father has requested your presence with his lawyer.”
Our young bachelor was inclined to ignore the note, as he considered his father’s lawyer to be boorish and coarse, but he decided that he should behave as the dutiful son. Thus he returned to his home, albeit without the haste requested in the note. When he arrived, he found the household in a general state of bedlam, a condition far removed from the normal staid routine of the family.
Upon questioning his mother, he learned that his father’s lawyer was awaiting him in the study. Once he was comfortably seated across from the lawyer and wondering where his father could be, the lawyer informed the young man for the reason behind his visit.
It seems the father had been visited by the local police and taken to a nearby police station for questioning in the murder of a young man who had lived in a neighborhood quite near the Sheppards’ home. Young Sheppard was shocked to his very bones that his father was being accused of such abhorrent behavior, and he went, this time with haste, to the police station. He was accompanied by his father’s lawyer, who spoke to his client there and was informed that the client was, indeed, being charged with murder.
When Young Sheppard had departed for his supper club earlier that evening, he could not have known that his life was about to take a drastic turn for the worse. The scandal which followed the arrest of his father and the subsequent trial that ended in his father’s conviction for murder was enough to bring financial and social ruin to the family which had once held a privileged and enviable position in the city of New York.
In time, the Sheppard family ran out of funds and was forced to sell the mansion which they had always called home. With her husband in prison and no longer able to provide for the family, Mrs. Sheppard sadly found herself in a position of having to look for a job, something she had never dreamed of doing. With her own family deceased, she could not even turn to them in her grief and financial need. And since her husband had been branded a killer, she had a difficult time finding even the most meager employment.
She eventually found a job as a seamstress several miles from New York. It was a financial burden to find a way to the tailor’s shop every day, but she managed. Her sons also found work, one at a printing shop, one as a baker’s assistant, and one, Young Sheppard, as a carpenter’s assistant. Mrs. Sheppard’s daughters also found work, one as a nanny and one in a shoe factory making fancy shoes like those her mother could no longer afford.
With Mrs. Sheppard and all her children working, the family was finally able to buy a small home in a shabby neighborhood. The family was never again wealthy, except for Young Sheppard, but they were better off than some of New York City’s poor. The two daughters eventually married and the sons, too, found wives. Mrs. Sheppard ended up living alone, but her children all lived nearby and they were able to help her as she grew older and more feeble in her later years.
As much as she was enjoying the story, Daisy’s eyes began to close as she read and she leaned back against the pillow. The alarm woke her from a sound sleep Monday morning. When she got to work she found Jude pacing the hallway between her office and Mark John’s office.
“Did you talk to Mark John?” Daisy asked.
“No. He’s in his office now, talking on the phone. He’s going to have some explaining to do when he finally hangs up and I can get in there. I’m going to wring his neck.”
“Before you strangle him, remember there may be a perfectly reasonable explanation for him being off the grid last night,” Daisy warned.
“I will,” Jude said with a smirk. “I can’t wait to hear his explanation.”
Daisy went into her office and closed the door so she wouldn’t have to hear the fireworks when Mark John got off the phone. She had too much work to do to worry about Mark John’s whereabouts the night before, plus she was tired.
She hadn’t been at the computer too long before Jude peeked her head around the door with a look of chagrin. “He had a migraine. He was asleep and turned off the ringer because the sound from the phone hurt his head.”
Daisy smiled. “See? It was nothing for you to worry about. I hate to say I told you so, but—”
“I know, I know. You told me so. I’m just glad he’s all right. His headache is better and he’s in a better mood today. I think the stress of last week hit him hard.”
Daisy had been thinking a lot about Mark John and Fiona since the last time she and Jude had spoken, in the conference room over sandwiches.
“Do you two ever talk about Fiona?” Daisy asked suddenly. Jude looked over her shoulder toward Mark John’s office and slipped into Daisy’s office, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
“We don’t really talk too much about her,” Jude said, sitting down across from Daisy. She picked at one of her fingernails as she spoke. “Mark John is very careful to keep the doors to his house locked all the time and he’s always warning me not to go anywhere by myself, even in the middle of the day. I think the memory of Fiona’s death is never far from his mind, at least in terms of staying safe and keeping me safe. But he never mentions her. Do you think I should say something to him?”
“It seems like talking about her would be the healthy thing to do, especially if you and Mark John are getting more serious,” Daisy said, choosing her words carefully. It was amazing to her that the couple had hardly talked about Mark John’s murdered former wife. Wouldn’t that be the elephant in the room every time they were together? “So he never talks about what happened the night she was killed?”
Jude shook her head, her eyes downcast. “No. I’ve read about it online, of course, and in the newspapers at the time, but I’ve always figured that if he wants to talk about her, he will. And he hasn’t, so he probably doesn’t want to.”
“Maybe he’s waiting for you to ask.”
“Maybe,” Jude conceded, but she looked doubtful.
“Let me know how it goes if you two do talk about her,” Daisy said, wondering if she should change careers to be a relationship counselor.
Jude took the hint and stood up to leave. “Thanks, Daisy,” she said, opening the door and stepping into the hallway. “You give good advice.” Her smile was genuine.
When Jude had shut the door behind her, Daisy tried getting back to work, but a horrible thought had struck her while Jude was talking.
Was it possible that Mark John and Jude had been romantically involved before Fiona’s death? That Mark John had been cheating on his wife, as she had been cheating on him? That would explain why it seemed that Mark John was talking about marriage to Jude so quickly after Daisy thought they started dating. Maybe he hadn’t mentioned it quickly at all. Maybe they had been together for a long time and marriage was just the next step.
Then an even more horrible thought occurred to Daisy. Was it possible that Fiona and Mark John were both involved in Fiona’s murder so they could continue their relationship out in the open?
It was too horrible even to consider. Daisy shook her head as if to dislodge such a heinous idea and tried to focus on the document in front of her. But she couldn’t concentrate. She needed to get out of the office for some fresh air, to clear her head so she would be able to get some work done. She grabbed her wallet and cell phone and headed downstairs and out into the steamy Washington morning. While she walked she phoned Helena. She hoped Helena would be able to talk some sense into her.
“Sorry to bother you at work,” she said when Helena answered the phone.
“No problem. Is something wrong?”
“Not really. I want to run something by you so you can tell me how stupid it is.”
“What?” The confusion in her voice was obvious. Daisy chuckled wryly.
“Just listen and you’ll understand.” Daisy recounted her conversation with Jude. She finished by taking a deep breath and asking Helena, “Do you think it’s possible that Mark John and Jude somehow planned Fiona’s murder so they could be together?”
“Whoa, slow down there. Daisy, you’ve had too much caffeine. You’re making up wild stories that have no basis in fact. What would possess you to think you’re working with a couple of murderers?”
“I don’t know. It’s just a thought that occurred to me. I knew it was far-fetched, so that’s why I called you. So you could be the voice of reason.” Thank God Helena was an engineer. She looked at everything logically. Well, most things.
“What you need is a nice cup of tea. Herbal tea, that is. Take a break from all the work for a while. Want to get together for lunch?”
“I really shouldn’t. I’ve got so much work to do that I can’t spare the time. Besides, I brought lunch with me to the office today. And if I’m going to be able to go to that concert with you and Bennett on Friday night, I can’t be taking any more time away from my office.”
“All right. Just make sure you don’t let yourself get carried away with thoughts of murder and mayhem. I’ll talk to you before Friday.”
Daisy hung up with a feeling of relief. Of course Jude and Mark John hadn’t planned Fiona’s murder. She ducked into her favorite tea shop, which was just a block from her office, and ordered the herbal tea Helena had suggested. She let it cool while she walked back to work.
She was able to concentrate on her research and the afternoon sped by quickly, as did the next several days. Summoning the determination and focus she had cultivated in college and graduate school, she was able to push any thoughts of Jude, Mark John, and Fiona out of her head for the rest of the week. She and Helena spoke on the phone on Thursday night and the topic of murder didn’t even come up. She was looking forward to the concert the following evening. Grover called next to ask if Daisy still wanted to help out at an event the following week. There was a graduation party scheduled for Wednesday evening and he could use the help. Daisy said she’d be happy to.
She finished two of her four assignments on Friday and was ready for an evening off. After work she changed her clothes, hurried to the Metro, and rode all the way out to suburban Virginia, where she was going to meet up with Helena and Bennett for the concert.
She saw them before they saw her outside the Metro station. They were laughing, leaning into each other, and looked perfectly at ease. Daisy felt a tiny twinge of jealousy, but pushed it aside and told herself firmly that this evening she wasn’t going to have any negative thoughts. She smiled broadly at the happy couple as they approached and accepted a peck on the cheek from Bennett, as if they had known each other for years.
“Helena talks about you all the time,” Bennett told her as they walked toward the park where the concert was being held. “I feel like I already know you even though we didn’t get much of a chance to talk that night Dave and I met you.”
Daisy felt her face flush at the memory of the double date, then repeated the evening’s mantra to herself. No negative thoughts. No negative thoughts. She grinned at Bennett. “Helena can’t possibly talk about me as much as she talks about you.” Bennett and Helena exchanged glances and laughed.
Bennett had brought a big blanket and they purchased dinner from one of the food trucks set up around the big park. The atmosphere was bright and noisy and the promise of live jazz outdoors was just what Daisy needed after a long week at work. They settled on the blanket amid the crowd and waited for the music to start.
Daisy looked around absentmindedly at the crowd as more and more people gathered, setting up lawn chairs, hauling out coolers, and spreading picnics on the ground. She did a double-take when she saw Jude and Mark John sitting on a blanket about thirty feet in front of her. They were facing the stage and probably hadn’t seen her. They were seated close together, Jude’s hand resting lightly on Mark John’s leg. They were talking animatedly about something, though neither one was smiling. It didn’t look like a fight, just an intense conversation. Daisy eventually turned her attention back to Helena and Bennett, as it was more fun to pay attention to a conversation she could actually hear.
Before long the music started. The best thing about summer jazz festivals, Daisy thought, was the eclectic mix of fans. There were parents with young children, teens in groups, older couples, people on dates, and large groups of people of all ages. And everyone was there to enjoy the music and the atmosphere. She laid back on the blanket next to Helena and closed her eyes, listening to the music.
When she sat up to grab a bottle of water from her bag, she noticed Jude standing up. She stepped carefully over people in the crowd as she made her way to one of the port-a-potties along the perimeter of the park. Daisy idly watched Jude’s movements for a moment, then turned her attention to where Mark John still sat on their blanket. She was startled to see a hooded look in his eyes and a sneer playing around the corners of his mouth as he, too, watched Jude weave her way through the crowd.
She thought back to her conversation with Jude, when Jude had mentioned that Mark John didn’t like her going anywhere by herself out of concern for her safety. She wondered if Mark John hadn’t wanted Jude to go the rest room by herself. But why wouldn’t he just go with her?
Daisy reminded herself again that she was at the concert to enjoy herself and what happened between Mark John and Jude was really none of her business. Turning her attention back to the stage, she concentrated on being mindful of the music. It must have worked, because she didn’t even notice when Jude returned to Mark John’s side.