I hugged Angela and Steve, Rosemary and Joe, and told Donna how sorry I was. She looked regal in a long navy dress. Her eyes were red from crying, but she seemed calm and appreciative that I was there.
“Thank you for coming, Carrie. Aiden’s purpose in life was to help people. The world has lost one of its angels.”
“I didn’t know Aiden well, but I can see he was well loved,” I said, thinking of Gwen’s emotional outburst and Roxy’s frequent visits to Aiden’s office. In fact, where was Roxy?
I caught sight of her a few rows away, sitting with, of all people, her cousin Tommy.
“We’ll talk later,” Angela said.
And compare notes, I thought as I returned to my seat where I’d left my sweater, and moved closer to the aisle. As the room filled up, I recognized a few library patrons. I nodded to Nick Gannon and Vera Ghent, who had slipped into the row behind me. And there was John Mathers standing at the back of the room. I caught his eye and smiled. John glanced upward, as though asking God to give him strength. Somehow he knew that I was sleuthing again and there wasn’t anything he could do to stop me.
To my surprise, Miles Forlano stepped up to the lectern at the front of the room, a handsome, fit figure of manhood in his prime. He wore a blue summer blazer, gray slacks, and an open-necked white shirt, appearing both casual yet respectfully dressed for the occasion. He held out his arms and asked for silence.
“It is with great sadness that I stand here before you as we remember my dear friend Aiden Harrington, cut down in the prime of his life by a miserable coward. Aiden was a warm and generous human being and a gifted surgeon. He loved his family, cared for his patients, and was a loyal friend. I miss him terribly, as I imagine all of you do.”
Miles went on for another five minutes, then invited Donna to say a few words. She thanked everyone for coming and went on to say what a wonderful father Aiden was, and how much his patients meant to him. Then a tall, stooped man who appeared to be close to seventy got up to speak. Aiden’s father. He talked about Aiden as a boy, introducing an element of humor when he spoke about Aiden’s fascination with science experiments and how once he almost blew up the garage with an experiment gone awry.
Frankie, Donna’s sister, shared how Aiden had helped her pass a college math course. Then Vera walked up to the lectern. She looked pretty in a deep purple dress with tiny white and yellow flowers, though her curly hair was disheveled.
“Aiden Harrington was my boss for the past five years, some of the happiest working years of my life. He was kind to everyone in the office and never lost his cool, even when I accidentally overbooked his schedule.” She stopped for the small ripples of laughter that ran through the audience. “His patients loved him, and with good reason. Aiden was a wonderful doctor. We all miss him.”
An elderly woman rose and spoke, praising Aiden’s medical skills. As she returned to her seat, I heard a commotion on the other side of the room. Roxy came stumbling down the aisle. Was she drunk? High? She stood before the lectern and clutched the mic as if she were afraid someone would grab it from her.
“Yeah, Aiden was a great guy, but he had one fatal flaw. He gave generously to the people he loved, never expecting anything in return.” Roxy’s gaze darted around the room in search of a target. It settled on Donna. “Too bad his wife, my dear cousin, never appreciated him.”
I stared, transfixed, hardly believing what I was hearing.
“Oh, Donna loved being a doctor’s wife, and all the perks that went with it—the beautiful house, money for vacations—but did she care about the man himself? Poor Aiden. He deserved someone who truly loved him.”
Miles, who had leaped out of his seat and raced up to Roxy, now put an arm around his ex-wife’s shoulders. We all watched as Roxy struggled to free herself from his grasp, but Miles held firm and led her swiftly out of the room.
People looked at one another, at a loss regarding what to do next. Miles had been the person directing the memorial, and no one else was volunteering to take his place.
“Well, that puts an end to this little show and we can go back to work.”
I glanced around to see who had spoken. As I’d suspected, it was Nick Gannon.
Vera nudged him and whispered. “Show some compassion. The girl was in love with him.”
Nick laughed. “Like half the people here. They should have known the real Aiden.”
A minute later, a man I didn’t know walked to the front of the room and thanked everyone for coming. As we stood to leave the room, I tapped Nick on the shoulder. “What did you mean—people should have known the real Aiden? What was he really like?”
Nick stared at me.
“Sorry. I’m Carrie Singleton. I didn’t know Aiden well, but he died in front of me at my friends’ wedding. I’m just wondering what he was really like.”
“Right. We met at the wake.”
“Yes, we did.”
Nick shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong. Aiden was a good guy. He had a big heart, like everyone said, but he couldn’t see the big picture.”
“What do you mean?” We both, along with Vera, had joined the crowd in the aisle slowly exiting the building.
“I had visions of opening another office in Merrivale, but Aiden refused to consider it.”
“I think he was too busy with other affairs to have his mind on business matters,” Vera said with a meaningful smile.
I stared at her. “You mean—Roxy?”
“I said affairs, didn’t I?” Vera fluttered her eyes. “Silly man, when he had a gorgeous wife like Donna at home.”
Affairs? Plural? Surely not Aiden! I wasn’t being naïve about how some men played around, but Aiden didn’t seem the type. I walked slowly back to the library, as I tried to process what I’d learned about the people surrounding Aiden and the possible motivation any one of them might have had to poison him. Nurse Gwen’s insistence that he had been an especially caring employer didn’t explain her extremely emotional reaction to his death. And how weird was it that she took off when I had left to talk to Angela and her family. I wondered if Gwen was one of the affairs that Vera had alluded to. How I’d love to ask Gwen and watch her reaction.
Poor Roxy was in a bad way—coming to the memorial drunk or high and blasting Donna in front of everyone for not being a good wife. Seeing Roxy with Tommy made me wonder if they might have planned Aiden’s death together. After all, they each had a grievance against him. Though Aiden had been supportive of Roxy, she hadn’t managed to win his affection and convince him to leave Donna. Sometimes murderers were beset with grief even though they themselves had killed the person they still loved.
I walked across the library’s parking lot as I considered Nick’s comments. He had hinted there was a side to Aiden that most people either didn’t know about or were ignoring. Was he referring to the supposed affair with Roxy and/or Gwen, or was he just being spiteful because Aiden had refused to go along with his plan to open another office? Maybe Gwen could fill me in on what was really was going on in the office. I’d contact her after the weekend. And if she was reluctant to meet, I’d simply explain that I’d been asked to find out who had murdered Aiden. Surely she would want to help me find his killer.
Dylan arrived at the cottage a little before seven, a bottle of wine in hand, looking handsome and sexy in shorts and a T-shirt. I served our dinner—a large salad I’d made to which I’d added grilled sirloin tips that I’d picked up at the Gourmet Delight, along with focaccia bread that was warming in the toaster oven. Dylan filled our wine glasses. We smiled and toasted each other, then sipped.
Dylan was full of talk about Gary Winton, his new protégé, pleased by how quickly Gary picked up whatever he was explaining and by his eagerness to start working on cases.
“Sounds like you made the right choice,” I said.
“You’ll see for yourself when we take him out tomorrow,” Dylan said as I cleared our dishes and set out plates for dessert. “I know you want to run a few errands in the morning, so I signed us up for a three o’clock boat ride around the Sound.”
“What a great idea! I went on one of those boat rides when I was six years old.”
“Then I thought we’d have dinner at the Sea Maiden. I managed to snag a reservation for seven thirty. That gives us an hour and a half between the boat ride and dinner. We can drive around town, show Gary some of our favorite spots. Or have drinks at my place.”
“I’m sure he’ll go for either one,” I said.
We drank our coffee and munched on one of Aunt Harriet’s cakes that I’d defrosted earlier.
“Tell me more about Aiden’s memorial service,” Dylan said.
I had told him about Gwen’s disappearing act and Roxy’s outburst earlier. “His partner Nick Gannon made a comment, implying that Aiden wasn’t the Golden Boy everyone was praising. That could have been a reference to his supposed affairs with Roxy and/or Nurse Gwen, as Vera the office manager implied.”
“Were Nick and Vera sitting together?” Dylan asked.
“Well, sure. They work together, don’t they?”
“Did they go to the memorial service together?”
“I wouldn’t know. Why do you ask?” I laughed. “You don’t think they’re having an affair, do you? Vera’s about fifteen years older than Nick.”
Dylan shrugged his shoulders. “Just wondering.”
“Anyway, Nick was annoyed that Aiden didn’t want to go along with his plans to set up another office—in Merrivale.”
“Not exactly a reason to kill your business partner,” Dylan said.
“No.” I exhaled loudly. “And there’s no clue anywhere leading to the poisoner. Anyone could have bought the stuff.”
“I’m sure John’s checking that out,” Dylan said.
“Speaking of John, he was at the memorial service, but I didn’t get a chance to talk to him. I’m hoping that Angela’s learned something from her relatives.”
We settled down in the living room to watch a movie. Like an old married couple, I thought, and quickly brushed the thought aside. Then Angela called. Since Dylan was engrossed in the movie, I spoke to her in my guest bedroom/office.
“We’ve just finished dinner at my parents’ and soon we’re off to Aunt Marie’s for dessert.” Angela released a deep sigh. “I can’t wait to go home for some peace and quiet.”
“What’s been happening? Have you learned anything?”
“My brother’s gone completely berserk. Suddenly he insists he has to get back to California ASAP to start filming his movie, which is bogus. I mean, how can he do anything with that movie if he doesn’t have enough funds? He’s furious that John Mathers wants to interview him again about Aiden’s murder.” Angela giggled. “I won’t bother repeating the rest of what he said. Though they don’t say it, I’m pretty sure my parents wish he’d go home. On the other hand, they’re worried about him. I think they’re finally seeing the kind of person Tommy really is.”
“What about Donna? How did she take Roxy’s little performance?”
“I have no idea, but we’re going over to Donna’s parents’ house in a little while, so I’m sure I’ll get an earful.”
I filled Angela in on Aiden’s colleagues’ comments. “We have nothing concrete to go on. The only thing left to do is find out what kept Aiden holed up in his home office all those evenings before his death. Though I’m sure John went through everything there already.”
“I’ll go with you. You never know what will turn up.”
“Good idea. I wish we knew what Aiden wanted to talk to Dylan about.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Angela said. “Aiden did want to talk to Dylan. Which meant something was troubling him. Something he wanted investigated.”
“Something illegal, I imagine.”
Angela laughed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. By the way, would you like to come over for a barbecue early Sunday evening? Steve can’t wait to try out our new grill.”
“I’d love to. Give me a minute to run it by Dylan.”
“Sure,” was Dylan’s quick response. “Shall we bring wine or beer?”
“Beer,” Angela answered.
We chatted a minute more, then I went to join Dylan in the living room. He gave me a quick kiss and I nestled against him. A quiet evening at home was just what I needed.
A few hours later I must have dozed off because Dylan was nudging me. “Your cell phone’s ringing.”
I hurried into my bedroom where I’d left my phone and wondered who was calling. My mother? With the three-hour difference between Connecticut and California, she sometimes misjudged the time. Not that it was late. Only a quarter to ten. And not that she called very often.
“Hello, Carrie?” The voice was so muffled, I couldn’t identify who was speaking.
“Yes?”
“This is Gwen. Gwen Swithers. You said I could call. I know it’s late, but …” Her voice faded away, and I was worried she was about to hang up.
“I said to call and I meant it. Are you all right?”
“Not really. I can’t get past this terrible sadness. And I keep wondering if I should have told the police—” Gwen stopped suddenly. “I—I don’t know what to do.”
“Would you like to meet for breakfast tomorrow and talk about whatever’s bothering you?”
“I’d like that, Carrie—as long as you keep what I tell you in confidence.”
“Of course,” I said. Unless you poisoned Aiden.
We made plans to meet at a diner a few miles east of Clover Ridge at nine fifteen. I told Gwen to get a good night’s sleep.
“I think just knowing we’re meeting in the morning, I’ll be able to sleep for the first time in weeks,” she said.
And maybe tomorrow morning some of the mystery surrounding Aiden Harrington will be revealed.