Finding Laura (15 page)

Laura thought of Kerry’s gentle voice and smile, of the unreadable hazel eyes and the thin body and scarred face, and she couldn’t help wondering. There had to be anger there somewhere, bitterness—didn’t there? The anger of a fragile, vulnerable woman married to an indifferent man who found his pleasures elsewhere. The bitterness of a man who loved beautiful women married to a woman reluctant to show her scarred face in public. Between that very odd couple and within that very odd marriage, might there not have been rage enough for murder?

“She was out of town when Peter was killed,” Laura heard herself say.

Josie looked at her, understanding. “Yes, she was. But
 … Kerry is always pretty well veiled when she travels. Swathed in scarves and hidden behind big sunglasses, with that special makeup that hides her scars. So I suppose …”

“The police would have checked her alibi,” Laura said.

Josie laughed suddenly, a rueful sound. “Yes, of course. And it’s ridiculous anyway. Kerry couldn’t hurt a fly.”

L
aura shook off the idea as well, at least for the moment, and held her sketch at arm’s length to study it. Not bad, she decided.

“May I see it?” Josie asked.

After an instant’s hesitation, Laura turned the sketchpad around so that Josie could see her likeness.

“Hey … you’re pretty good,” Josie said slowly, wide eyes staring at the sketch.

“Not good enough.” Laura smiled. “I caught the shape of your face, the curves and angles, the shadows. But not the life. Not the spark that makes your face different from every other face. Until I can do that, I won’t be good enough.”

Josie nodded after a moment, but said, “You don’t have far to go, I’d say. Not far at all.”

“Thanks.” Laura closed the sketchpad and clipped the pouch of pencils back in place.

Josie got up, saying, “Why don’t we take the other path back toward the house; that’ll take us along the other side of the gardens.”

“Suits me. Listen, if I decide to try my hand at the maze—”

“Tell somebody you’ll be in there,” Josie said firmly. “Always. There’s an oddly muffling quality about the shrubs in the maze, so yelling for help won’t do any good unless somebody’s close by.” She grinned. “However, if you turn up missing, I’ll check the maze first thing.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Josie indicated the second path that had ended here overlooking the maze, and they began strolling back. “Along this path we have a Japanese-type section with a coy pond, three trellises covered with prize-winning roses, a fantastic rock garden—”

“And a partridge in a pear tree?”

Josie chuckled. “We just might. Suggest to Avery—he’s the head gardener—that the twelve days of Christmas might be a dandy theme, and he’ll design something incredible.”

Laura shook her head. “It’s already incredible. I didn’t think gardens like this existed, not in a private home.”

“Not many do. The cost of upkeep is pretty well prohibitive unless you have money to burn. The Kilbournes, for all their strange paths to destiny, have it. Especially now. Kilbourne Data is one of this country’s biggest designers and producers of computer equipment, as well as electronic components for military aircraft and satellites. And thanks to Daniel’s foresight, there’s now a division of the company engaged solely in research and development; real cutting-edge technology. Daniel’s a financial genius, to say nothing of having a genuine feel for what might be needed in the future.”

“I’ve heard that.” Laura glanced at her. “I’ve also heard that he and Amelia don’t always agree on financial decisions.”

Josie hesitated, then shrugged. “I couldn’t really say, since I’m Amelia’s personal assistant and rarely have anything
to do with family business. But I do know that while Amelia can veto some financial decisions, she has no say in others—or at least, so it seems to me. Apparently, David left the family money tied up in some odd, complicated way it’d take a team of lawyers to understand.” She hesitated again. “There’s been some tension from time to time. But I’d guess that kind of thing was normal in a family like this one. Nobody’s going to agree all the time.”

Laura knew only too well that Josie was right; nobody agreed all the time, and within families—especially powerful families—dissension was probably closer to being the rule than the exception. But she wondered if the curious division of power within the Kilbourne family had grated on two strong, dominating personalities, turning them into adversaries.

“How was Peter involved in the family business?” she asked, curious.

“Well, he wasn’t, really. Some family stock, of course, but no voting power, and he didn’t have much of a say in what went on. He did things for Amelia, checked out investments and the like; she has some money of her own, you see, and that’s separate from family holdings.”

Laura was a little surprised that Josie was being so forthcoming, but had a hunch it was less a matter of her discretion and more a matter of Amelia’s instructions. What she didn’t understand was why Amelia would want her questions about the family answered. To enable her to paint a better portrait? It didn’t seem likely. Why, then?

“I wish they’d find out who killed Peter,” Josie said suddenly, her tone anxious. “It’s so awful not knowing.”

Nodding, Laura said, “I read a book once where there was a murder and all the innocent people tied themselves into knots, agonizing over it. In their imaginations any of them could have done it, so they were suspicious of each
other. The point of the story was that the innocent suffer more than the guilty do when they don’t know the truth.”

Josie glanced at her quickly. “I don’t believe any of the family did it. How could I believe that?” When Laura said nothing, she added, “It must have been the redhead with him. The police think so.”

Laura nodded, hearing the aching uncertainty in the other woman’s voice; Josie had plenty of doubts and suspicions. “Probably.”

As they passed through the lovely rock garden, Josie looked distractedly around, her expression showing no pleasure in beauty at the moment. Almost to herself, she said, “I hate not knowing. I hate it.”

“So do I. And I hate being suspected of something terrible I didn’t do,” Laura said steadily. “That’s why I’ve been asking nosy questions about the family. If you were wondering.”

“Well, I was wondering,” Josie said after a moment. “But I can see how you might think it was a good idea to learn all you could about the family.”

“It’s the only thing I can do. I was pulled into this because I bought a mirror here and later talked to Peter about it. And even though the police can’t connect me to his murder, the press is having fun trying. If the truth doesn’t come out, I’ll always have that black mark of suspicion and doubt against me.”

Josie stopped on the path and looked at her. “I hadn’t thought about it that way. But you’re right, of course. If the truth doesn’t come out … we can never be sure about a lot of things. Including the people around us.” She drew a breath. “But do you really think that something you learn about the family can help you find that truth?”

Laura hesitated, then said, “I think Peter was murdered because of the kind of man he was. Somewhere along the way, he made a bad enemy, and that enemy killed him. Maybe that redhead he checked into the motel with killed
him. It certainly looked like a crime of passion, it seems. But maybe his death was just
supposed
to look that way. Maybe we’re all making wrong assumptions. I don’t know, Josie. I’m not a detective.”

“Yet you can’t leave it to the detectives, the police?”

“No, I can’t. I have to find out for myself why Peter died. And why I was one of the last people to see him alive.”

Josie nodded soberly. “I can’t say that I blame you for that. But be careful, Laura. In all the books the amateur almost always ends up hip-deep in trouble.”

It was a friendly warning, Laura thought.

At least, she hoped it was.

The two women continued along the path through the gardens to the house, neither of them with much to say now. Laura was debating with herself as to whether she should ask Josie where she was the night Peter was killed. She needed to know that, if only to eliminate the delicate redhead as a candidate for Peter’s mysterious lover, but at the same time she didn’t want to upset the feeling of casual harmony between them.

And chances were good Josie wouldn’t like the question.

They were still silent as they went up the steps onto the veranda, and both stopped almost automatically as a man strolled out of the conservatory to meet them. He was tall and blond, a strikingly handsome man with greenish eyes and a lazy smile. He looked to be about Laura’s own age, she thought, and the sober elegance of his business suit was offset somewhat by the loosened, brightly colored tie peopled with cartoon characters.

“Hi, Josie,” he said amiably with a faint smile for the redhead, and then, looking at Laura, he added, “You must be Laura. I’m Alex Kilbourne.”

The lawyer, Laura realized as she nodded a greeting. “You’re … Amelia’s cousin?” she ventured.

“Yes, but only in the vague Southern sense, meaning that we’re related. Actually, my grandfather was the youngest brother of Amelia’s late husband. There were three brothers; everyone in this house is descended from or related by marriage to those three brothers.”

Laura sighed. “I think I need to see a family tree,” she murmured almost to herself.

Josie spoke finally, directly to Laura. “Amelia began a genealogy years ago, so there’s a fairly complete chart going back several generations; I’ll show it to you later, if you’ll remind me.”

“Thanks, I will.” Laura became aware then that here was yet another undercurrent among the Kilbournes—this one between Josie and Alex. He seemed relaxed, yet his glances at Josie held an odd entreaty; and though Josie remained expressionless, Laura could feel her tension.

“How did you like the gardens?” Alex asked Laura, his tone still pleasant.

“Very much. This is a beautiful place.”

“It has its charms.” He smiled. “Amelia’s just come down, I believe, and is waiting for you in her parlor.”

“I’ll show you the way, Laura,” Josie said instantly.

Laura was tempted to tell Josie she could find her own way, since she was certain Alex wanted a moment alone with the redhead, but she decided not to interfere, having no idea what kind of relationship they had. It was interesting, though. Very interesting.

“Nice meeting you, Alex,” she said instead.

“My pleasure. See you around, Laura. Josie.”

They left him standing there on the veranda, and when Laura glanced at Josie’s face as they moved through the conservatory, she found the older woman wearing an unhappy frown. Tentatively, Laura said, “He seems very nice. He lives here in the house?”

Josie nodded. “Since he joined the family firm of lawyers a couple of years ago. Amelia likes to have family
around her, and the house is certainly big enough.” Her voice was distracted and the frown remained.

“Did Alex and Peter get along?” Laura wondered.

Josie didn’t answer immediately, and when she did her voice was no longer distracted. “No. No, they didn’t.” Before Laura could respond to that, Josie added quickly, “But he was here the night Peter was killed. Besides, they didn’t hate each other, they just didn’t get along especially well.”

“I see.”

“And a woman killed Peter. That’s what they said, isn’t it?”

“Yes. That’s what they said.”
But only because a woman was seen with him at the motel. We don’t really know for sure that she killed him. A man could have come along later and done it
.

As if she had read Laura’s thoughts, Josie’s expression of unhappiness intensified. But all she said was, “Here, this is Amelia’s parlor. I’ll see you later, Laura.” She didn’t exactly run as she continued down the hall toward the front of the house, but her need to get away was pretty obvious.

Laura hesitated an instant, then went into the small parlor where she had met Kerry earlier. It was, now that she had heard it termed “Amelia’s parlor,” very characteristic of the old lady and her style. Almost Victorian, it was furnished with antiques and held so many small tables and pictures and bric-a-brac that an unkind person would have called it cluttered. The draperies were heavy velvet, the wallpaper dark, and spread over the hardwood floor was a tapestry rug fashioned in unusually dark colors.

She had barely noticed the room during her first visit this morning, but now it had a strong impact on Laura. She couldn’t help wondering what in Amelia’s background or personality had produced this near obsession with dark colors and heavy textures. So many losses? So
many bouts with grief? Had her life given Amelia a dark and gloomy vision of the world around her?

Amelia was sitting in a delicate Queen Anne chair and smiled as Laura came in. “I hope Josie took good care of you, child.”

“Very good care of me, Amelia. We walked through the gardens.”

“Ah, good. Then shall we continue working? I thought you might like to sketch me in here. I spend a great deal of time in here.”

Looking at Amelia in gleaming widow’s black surrounded by the stifling colors and clutter of her room, Laura thought the background was ideal. She picked an angle, found a chair, and began sketching.

A
LEX CAME INTO
the library and closed the doors firmly behind him.

Josie looked up, stiffened, and said immediately, “Daniel will be back in here—”

“Not for half an hour or so, he won’t,” Alex told her. “I asked him to give us a little while.”

She pushed her chair back and stood up, glaring at him. “You had no right to do that. Dammit, Alex—”

He came to the desk, but didn’t attempt to go around that barrier to touch her. “Josie, you’ve been avoiding me since Saturday night. You scuttle away when I get close, leave a room if I come into it, and lock yourself in your bedroom right after supper.”

“Get it?” she snapped.

Alex grinned faintly. “I’d have to be an idiot not to. You’re avoiding me. Okay, so let’s talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”