That night I called Billy and repeated what his mother had said as best I could remember. When I finished, he released a mournful sigh.
“So, she still refuses to give up the name of her lover.”
“Right. I don’t know if she’s afraid of this person or wants to protect him.”
“Still? After all these years?” Billy’s voice cracked. “And she couldn’t offer one good reason why she ran off, leaving Daphne and me?”
I pressed my lips together. Of course I’d told Billy what she had said about her emotional state at the time, but people only heard what they wanted to hear. “I think she was traumatized with a serious case of PTSD. She didn’t say she saw this person stab your father, but she must have seen something that left her in no doubt that her lover had killed him.”
After a minute, Billy said, “And she asked for my phone number?”
“Yes. I gave it to her, though I can’t promise that she’ll call you.”
Billy made a scoffing sound. “And I have no intention of waiting around, hoping she’ll call—not after all these years.”
“Please let me know if she contacts you.”
“Of course, Carrie. I can’t thank you and Dylan enough for taking a day off to drive all the way to Long Island to see her.”
“We wanted to hear what she had to say—for your sake and hopefully to get a lead on the person who killed Daphne and Ilana. Billy, please don’t tell anyone that we visited your mother. If the killer finds out, he’ll assume she gave him up and come after Dylan and me.”
Billy’s laugh was anything but humorous. “You don’t have to remind me to keep my mouth shut. I’m still recovering from that stupid announcement I made at Daphne’s service.”
My life resumed its usual pattern over the next few days. Angela’s bridal shower was at the end of the month and I had a few things to attend to, including phone calls to a few of her female relatives who hadn’t bothered to RSVP.
Every so often I felt a pang of guilt for not telling John that Dylan and I had paid a visit to Patricia Harper aka Sheila Rossetti. Then I’d think, why risk getting bawled out for what he’d see as interfering in his case when in fact we hadn’t learned anything new? Besides, she had been cleared of all charges regarding her husband’s death. As for her lover, she’d refused to tell us his name, and there was no reason to believe John would be more successful in getting her to talk. Sheila lived in another state, so I doubted he could force her to come in to be interviewed. Still, I felt bad for not letting him know that we’d seen her.
I ran into Danny Brower outside the post office. When I asked if the police had any new leads regarding the investigation, he sighed and said they were still waiting for some fiber and hair results to come back but otherwise they had zip.
I talked to Evelyn about our visit to Long Island, and she had a few things to say on the subject.
“I’m disappointed in Pattie Harper. You’d think catching her daughter’s killer would be her priority, even if it was her long-ago lover.”
“I’m wondering if the man has some sort of hold over her,” I said.
“A good point,” Evelyn said. “But why is she so afraid, after all these years?”
I thought a bit. “What if she tells John the name of the person who killed her husband. Then he, in turn, points a finger and claims he only did it because she asked him to?”
Evelyn’s head bobbed up and down in agreement. “That would explain why she skipped town so quickly after she was cleared of Chet’s murder.”
“Daphne and Ilana were killed here in Clover Ridge,” I said. “That means the killer might still live here …”
“Or?”
“Or he’s a member of the movie crew.” I groaned in frustration.
Evelyn frowned. “For her children’s sake, Pattie should tell the police what she knows.”
“I’m hoping she’ll contact Billy,” I said.
“Given her track record, I’m not holding my breath.”
I found myself checking in with my mother every day. I’d helped her through a rough time and felt our relationship had taken a turn for the better. But now that her life was back on track, she’d reverted to her old ways. Though she always sounded happy to hear from me, her mind was on Tom and his glorious future.
“Carrie dear, I can’t talk!” she said when I called her the morning after our excursion to Long Island. “They’re filming all day today down by the water. Would you like to come and watch?”
“Sorry, Mom. I have to work. But I’m glad they’re moving right along.”
“Absolutely! Marissa Varig is such a sweetie. Not like that bitch Ilana.”
“How’s Tom?” I asked.
“Fine. I watched him and Marissa run through a few scenes. They are perfectly cast and bring out the best in each other.” She giggled. “I wouldn’t be surprised if this role wins him an Oscar nomination.”
An Oscar? The woman’s delusional. “I’m glad Tom’s doing well. And the two of you are good?”
Another giggle. “Better than ever. He’s still apologizing for falling for Ilana’s tricks. We’ll be fine. Have to go now. They’re about to shoot one of Tom’s big scenes. He likes to know I’m close by.”
My mother and Tom would be all right, I decided when I disconnected. They were back in tandem. Once again on the same page. He was her husband and she was back to showering him with all the attention she’d never given Jordan and me. I sighed as I realized that my mother loved me in her own way, though it wasn’t the way I would have wanted.
“You knew Pattie Harper, didn’t you Aunt Harriet?” I asked during dinner at my aunt and uncle’s house a few days later.
Aunt Harriet put down her fork and sighed. “I suppose her daughter coming back to town and getting murdered has people talking about Pattie Harper all over again.”
“What was she like twenty years ago?”
“A pretty woman, worn out from working two jobs and being the punching bag for that brute of a husband. I didn’t know her well, just enough to smile and say good-morning when we saw each other shopping or running errands. I knew about Chet and his drinking, of course. So did everyone in town.”
“You can say that again,” my uncle chimed in. “Al Tripp had a thing for Pattie. He kept after Mitch Flynn—he was the police chief before John—to throw the SOB in jail for abusing his family, but Mitch claimed he couldn’t unless one of his victims filed a complaint. Of course Pattie and the kids were too frightened to do anything of the sort.”
Aunt Harriet smiled. “Yes, Al was half in love with her. Offered to represent her for free if she filed for divorce.”
“Look who’s talking,” Uncle Bosco said to Aunt Harriet. “You tried to take her under your wing. Even offered to let her stay with us awhile, though she and I had never exchanged two words.”
“It was the only decent thing to do, Bosco!” My aunt turned to me. “One Saturday morning I was shopping early—we were having people over that evening. I ran into Pattie in the supermarket. She’d been crying. And there was a large bruise on her cheek. No one was around, so I pulled her to one side and offered to help her. At first she pretended not to know what I was talking about. Then she said I wasn’t to worry. She had a friend who was helping her and things would be better very soon.”
Uncle Bosco raised his hand. “That happened two days before her husband was murdered.”
My heart began to pound. Maybe Dylan and I had gotten it all wrong. Maybe Patricia Harper had planned with this mysterious person to kill Chet.
“Do you have any idea who she was talking about?” I asked.
“None whatsoever,” Aunt Harriet said. “For a while Lester Brown was under suspicion because he’d made no secret that he thought the world of Pattie. She only had to say the word and he would have taken her in.”
I cleared my throat. “What about Al Tripp? Could he have killed Chet?”
My uncle burst out laughing. “Are you kidding? Our esteemed mayor?”
I shrugged. These days our mayor’s driving passions were his family and the welfare of Clover Ridge, but we were talking about twenty years ago.
“You said he had the hots for Patricia Harper.”
“So I did,” Uncle Bosco said. “Al was grilled along with Lester Brown, and he provided a solid alibi. As a young lawyer, he worked crazy hours and was able to prove he’d been in his office with a client till close to midnight the night Chet Harper was killed.”
“Pattie was at work, so she couldn’t have done it,” Aunt Harriet said. “And so Mitch, who always took the easiest path, turned to their son Billy. He’d heard that Billy had argued with his father a week or two earlier, so he put the screws to poor Daphne and voilà! He managed to find himself a murderer and tie up the homicide with a ribbon.”
“She should have stayed to give Billy moral support,” Uncle Bosco said, “but she was gone by the time he was charged.”
“And if she knew that her friend or lover had murdered her husband, she should have said so,” I said.
Aunt Harriet reached over to pat my shoulder. “If that person really existed. No one ever saw Pattie’s so-called lover. I agree, she should have stood by her children, but we’ll never find out why she didn’t, since we’ll most likely never see her again.”
I remained silent, hating not being able to tell them we’d seen Sheila-Patricia.
My aunt got to her feet. “Carrie dear, let’s clear the table and make room for some homemade apple cake and coffee.”
Days passed. On a beautiful May afternoon, I left the library at five, dropped Smoky Joe off at the cottage, and drove to the gym. I was puffing away on the elliptical when Billy walked over, a broad grin on his face.
“My mother’s coming to visit,” he said softly so no one could hear us.
I stopped the machine and stared at him. “What made her change her mind about coming back here? From spending time with her, I got the impression she was terrified of the person she believes killed your father and Daphne.”
Robby nodded. “Don’t I know it. A complete turnaround. I think it took my sister’s death sinking in to make her think how it could have been prevented if only she’d spoken up years ago. She said she’s tired of being afraid and will tell the police everything she knows.”
I hugged him. “I’m so glad. When is she coming?”
“Next Tuesday. I’m taking a few days off so we can spend time together,” Billy said. “Do you have any suggestions where we might go? From what she’s told me, she and her husband rarely go out.”
“She might enjoy the event at the library Saturday night. Four of the movie actors will be reading Gurney’s The Cocktail Hour. The seats in the meeting room are all taken, but the movie company’s sound engineer is setting up a system so patrons can sit upstairs and hear the play being read. I’ll reserve two seats if you like.”
Billy laughed. “Just like the radio. Thanks, Carrie. I think she’d like that.”
“I’m glad you’ll have this chance to spend time with your mother.”
“Me too.”
The following day, as Angela and I walked over to the Cozy Corner Café, I told her that Billy’s mother was coming to pay him a visit.
“I hope this isn’t a mistake,” Angela said.
I shot her a look of surprise. “Why do you say that?”
“Because Billy must be furious that she abandoned him and his sister. I bet they get into an argument first thing.”
“Hopefully, she’ll tell him why she left,” I said. “Not that it excuses what she did, but it will explain why she acted that way.”
“Ha! And never contacted him or Daphne in twenty years,” Angela said.
I prodded her. “What’s really bothering you?”
Angela exhaled a deep sigh. “My brother. I keep wishing he wasn’t coming to the wedding.”
“Angela!”
“I told you Tommy did really mean things to me when I was growing up. And the one time I told my mother, she downplayed it. Well, the last time he was in town, I brought it up. At first he denied it. Then he began laughing in that stupid way of his—the way he laughs when he knows he’s done something bad. I yelled at him before he could spew out one of his usual excuses. He yelled back. And so it went until my father came into the den to ask what was going on. Tommy ran out of my parents’ house. He came back late that night and flew back to Hollywood the next morning, earlier than he’d planned. That was two years ago.”
“I’m so sorry.” I stopped walking and put my arm around her.
Angela shrugged. “Anyway, my mother insists he’s changed. He has a new girlfriend he’s bringing to the wedding, and he’s working on a movie that he claims has great promise. Ha! I keep worrying he’ll do something stupid on the most special day of my life and ruin everything.”
I hugged her close. “Guys grow up. My cousin Randy used to tease me mercilessly. He turned into a really good guy. And Tommy will only be here a few days, right?”
Angela nodded. “I know. It’s crazy. Lately, I keep thinking of things that might go wrong.”
“Nothing will go wrong at your wedding,” I said. “I promise.”
We started walking again. “Getting back to Billy and his mother,” Angela said. “She’s had plenty of time to think about everything you and Dylan told her. I suppose part of the reason she’s coming to visit Billy is so she can tell John Mathers what she knows or suspects.”
“Let’s hope she doesn’t chicken out.”
That afternoon I received a phone call from Charlie Stanton.
“Hi, Carrie. Any chance your library’s meeting room is free tonight or tomorrow evening? We’d like to do a run-through of the reading in the library, if possible.”
I glanced at my schedule. “You’re in luck. A program that was scheduled for tomorrow evening was canceled. You can have the room from seven till nine.”
“Awesome!” he boomed over the phone. “We start filming extra early tomorrow morning and should be finished by three the latest. That gives everyone some time to relax before coming over. Thanks.”
“You’re most welcome,” I told him. “Everyone’s looking forward to this event. I’ve ordered forty folding chairs for the patrons who will be sitting upstairs.”
“Ralph, our sound engineer, will be coming along to set up the sound system that will transmit the reading to the upstairs area. By the way, you can tell your patrons they’re welcome to watch our rehearsal if they like. As long as they realize it’s a rehearsal and we’ll stop occasionally for various reasons. Some people find that pretty damn annoying.”
“I’ll be sure to mention it,” I said.
I posted about the rehearsal on the library’s Facebook page, then went to tell Sally. She was delighted, as I’d known she would be. Any program or event that drew patrons to the library gave her joy.
At five o’clock, I put Smoky Joe in his carrier and headed out to my car. I drove to my favorite drugstore, which was a few blocks off the Green. “I won’t be long,” I promised Smoky Joe as I locked the door behind me.
I was trying to decide between two brands of sunscreen when I heard someone chuckle. “Well, well, look who’s here.”
I glanced up at John Mathers. “Hi, John. What are you doing here?”
“What do you think? Shopping. Same as you. Sylvia asked me to pick up her prescription, and I wandered down this aisle.”
“I need some sunscreen. That is, I don’t really need it. I still have some from two years ago, but I’m afraid it’s no longer effective.”
Why am I babbling about sunscreen? More to the point, why am I feeling so uncomfortable?
I reached for the brand I’d been favoring and drew a deep breath. “Anything new on the murder investigation?”
John shrugged. “You know how it is. We check out every lead, then recheck.”
That’s about as vague as you can get. Clearly, he’s not planning on telling me a thing. “I’m sure you do. Thank God there haven’t been any more murders.”
John winked at me. “We haven’t talked in a while. Is there anything you’ve learned recently that might have bearing on the homicides?”
My ears grew warm. I knew they must be blazing red. “Recently? Let’s see. I’ve heard that Alvin Tripp had taken an interest in Patricia Harper around the time her husband was murdered. Do you think he was her secret lover?”
“The secret lover who supposedly murdered her husband and more recently her daughter and Ilana Reingold?” John burst out laughing. “Come on, Carrie. You can do better than that. If you heard that Al Tripp was once interested in Pattie Harper, you must also know he had a foolproof alibi the night Chet Harper was murdered.”
“So I’ve heard,” I admitted.
“I was thinking about more recent developments. Like Pattie Harper’s upcoming visit to Clover Ridge.”
“Oh. You know about that.”
“Why am I not surprised that you know it too?” John put on an expression of fake innocence. “But then, you’ve already met the mysterious lady.”
I sighed. “Okay, you got me. Dylan and I went to see her last week.”
John shook his head. “You should have told me, Carrie. You should have told me.”
“I’m sorry,” I said softly. But he was halfway to the register and didn’t hear.