Finding Laura (39 page)

“It’s possible,” Brent said. “But I don’t see anyone rushing forward to claim an accident, do you?”

“You aren’t saying it was one of us?” Alex demanded.

They were in the front parlor, everyone except Amelia and Madeline, both of whom had remained in their rooms after Daniel had told them about Anne. Daniel and Laura were sitting on the sofa nearest the window, Kerry was on the other one, and Josie and Alex occupied the chair in which Amelia usually sat. Brent Landry stood by the cold hearth.

It was early afternoon, and Anne’s body had been taken away only minutes before. With it had gone the police officers and technicians who had worked to gather evidence, leaving only Brent behind.

In answer to Alex’s question, Brent said evenly, “We’ll know more after the postmortem, but right now it looks like Anne died yesterday evening sometime between six and midnight. The gardeners had gone for the day, and
the only staff inside the house were the cook and one maid. The front gate was closed with a guard on duty. The rear gate was locked, with no sign of forced entry. None of the motion detectors around the fences were disturbed. So you tell me, Alex. Who else could it have been?”

“None of us would have killed Anne,” Kerry said quietly.

Brent glanced at her, then allowed his gaze to sweep the others. “As Daniel said, a quarrel might have gotten out of hand. If the evidence points that way, and whoever was involved comes forward, the DA would most likely consider it an accidental death. Involuntary manslaughter, perhaps.”

He paused, then said, “It’s no secret that Anne’s temper was … explosive. She might even have instigated the argument. Was she upset about anything yesterday? Angry at anyone?”

Josie and Laura exchanged glances, but it was Daniel who answered dryly, “Everyone, I believe, with the exception of Laura. There had been a scene at lunch.”

“What kind of scene?” Brent asked.

“The unpleasant kind.” Daniel shrugged.

Brent looked at him, waiting, but when it became obvious that was all Daniel chose to say, he looked at Josie. “Why was Anne angry?”

Josie lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. “I don’t know. She’d been simmering since last week when you exposed her affair with Peter. But she’d also gone out of her way Friday evening and yesterday morning to—oh, make peace with everyone or try to. Then, at lunch … she just exploded.”

“What happened?”

Josie glanced at Daniel questioningly, and it was he who said, “She did her best to insult everyone, that’s all. Par for the course where Anne was concerned.”

Brent drew a breath and let it out slowly. “Daniel, I
know you’ll go a long way to protect your family; I respect that. I know that as far as you’re concerned, what happened yesterday at lunch is not my business. But it is. I have to find out how and why Anne Ralston died, something I would think you would also want to know. No matter what the answer is. Because, unlike Peter, Anne didn’t die in an anonymous motel room across town. She died here. Literally in your own backyard. And no one in this house is above suspicion, because someone in this house knows how and why Anne died.”

There was a long silence, and then Daniel looked at Josie and nodded. Quietly, without emphasis, Josie repeated the gist of Anne’s tirade. Then she added, “But none of it was worth fighting about. We all knew Anne, knew how she was. And … once she said what she did, there was no taking it back. Why would any of us have confronted her about it later?”

“Besides which,” Alex said, “we were all fairly occupied during the evening. Drinks in here at six, then your little production, you may remember. Then dinner. Afterward most of us went back to the den, and we played bridge.”

“Most of you?”

“Josie and me, Kerry, and Amelia. Madeline was watching an old movie on TV, I think.”

“How long were you together?”

Alex shrugged. “I think the party broke up sometime after ten.”

“And you went your separate ways?”

“More or less. Amelia said she had letters to write. Madeline said something about a book. Kerry went to the music room; we could hear her playing, because Josie and I stayed in the den for a while. Then we went upstairs.” He paused, then added, “To my room.”

Without comment, Brent made a note in the little
black notebook he carried, and then looked at Daniel. “What about you?”

“Laura and I were upstairs,” Daniel said. “In my room. Together.”

“All evening?” Brent asked.

“And all night,” Daniel replied calmly.

Brent nodded, again without comment, and made more notes. When he spoke again, it was briskly. “Did any of you see or hear anything out of the ordinary?”

Laura spoke for the first time, hesitant. “I saw something. But it was after midnight, so it wouldn’t matter—would it?”

“What did you see?”

“I looked out the window and saw someone leave the conservatory. Whoever it was wore a cloak or something, and I couldn’t tell—”

“That was me,” Kerry said. “I often walk in the gardens at night.” She looked up at Brent, and a faint quiver disturbed the serenity of her expression. “I walked over the footbridge twice. But I didn’t notice anything.”

Brent nodded and made another note. Then he looked at Daniel. “I doubt Amelia would have had the strength to shove Anne, but I’ll need to talk to her. And your mother.”

Daniel frowned and shook his head. “Not today. They were both upset when I told them about Anne, naturally. And Mother’s sedated.”

“Tomorrow, then.” Brent looked at him steadily. “They may have heard something, seen something. I have to talk to them, Daniel.”

“Don’t expect me to like it.”

“No, I never expect miracles.” Brent smiled slightly, then sighed and closed his notebook, sliding it into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. “We’ve roped off the area around the footbridge, and I’d appreciate it if that could be
left undisturbed for a day or two. I’ll send one of my people out to take down the tape as soon as possible.”

“All right,” Daniel said. “I suppose there’s nothing new on Peter’s murder?”

“No.” Brent hesitated, then added, “My superiors would probably have my badge for saying this, but we may never know who killed Peter, Daniel. So far every lead has faded away to smoke. The investigation will continue, of course—but I have to be honest. As things stand now, there’s no good suspect, and no evidence pointing to one.”

Josie said, “It’s only been two weeks.”

He nodded. “I know that. As I said, the investigation will continue; there’s no statute of limitations on murder. But if murders aren’t solved quickly, they tend not to be solved at all. I just wanted you all to be prepared.”

“Great,” Alex muttered.

Brent looked at Daniel. “I’ll be back tomorrow, probably in the afternoon, to talk to Amelia and Madeline.” And when Daniel nodded reluctantly, added, “In the meantime, if any of you remember anything or think of something that might be helpful, let me know.”

There was a little silence after he left, and then Kerry got to her feet. “I never liked Anne, but I never wished her harm. Do you suppose her death had anything to do with Peter’s?”

Alex frowned at her. “How could it have?”

“I don’t know.” Her expression was tranquil. “But two violent deaths in the same family within two weeks seems a bit much—even for the Kilbournes.” Without waiting for anyone to respond to that, she strolled from the room.

“You know, she’s right,” Alex said a bit ruefully to Daniel.

He grimaced. “It had occurred to me. But I’m
damned if I can see any connection—other than their affair.”

Sighing, Josie rose and said, “All I know is that there are arrangements to make, and I might as well get started. I’ll have to try and contact Philip Ralston in Europe. He has to be told.”

“Nice call to get on a Sunday night,” Alex murmured as he too got to his feet. “Assuming we can track him down. I’ll help, sweet.”

Josie didn’t thank him verbally, but her hand slipped into his as they left the room.

“Glad those two are finally going public,” Daniel said absently. “It’s about time.”

Laura leaned her head against his shoulder. “Mmm. Daniel, do you think Anne died somehow because Peter did?”

“I wish I knew.”

She was silent for a moment, then said, “I should leave, go back to my apartment. Amelia won’t be thinking about the portrait, and—”

Daniel shifted so that he could put his hands on her shoulders. His gaze was very intent, and there was a look of strain around his mouth. “Laura … I have no right to ask you to stay here, especially after today. I couldn’t blame you if you decided to get as far away from this family as possible. But—I’m asking you to stay. I need you with me.”

There were many questions Laura could have asked him, but none of them seemed important in that moment. So she merely nodded and went into his arms.

I
T WAS FAIRLY
late that night when Alex and Josie went up the stairs together. Dinner had been virtually silent, with no one bothering to “dress” for the meal, and not even Amelia had been able to pretend that nothing out of
the ordinary had happened. She had retreated to her room soon after, as had Madeline, while Kerry had ordered the car and gone out without explanation. Daniel and Laura had remained downstairs for a while, but had gone up sometime before.

“What a day,” Alex murmured as they reached the second floor and walked down the hallway.

“Tomorrow won’t be much better,” Josie reminded him. “More questions, more arrangements—and don’t forget the press.”

Alex groaned. “Lovely. And I have to go chasing after box number two.”

“Box number two?”

He slipped an arm around her waist. “Just Peter bent on pissing me off from the grave.”

“Is that supposed to make sense?”

“Probably not. Ignore me, sweet. Let’s just say I’m not looking forward to the next few days.”

“No. Neither am I.” They had reached her bedroom, which was first in the hallway, and she looked at Alex hesitantly. “Would you … stay with me tonight?”

He glanced at the closed door, which had not yet admitted him, and then looked at Josie steadily. “Because it’s been a lousy day?”

She shook her head. “Because I want you with me.”

Alex waited.

Josie knew what he needed to hear. “I can promise we’ll be alone in there. The picture that used to be on my dresser isn’t there anymore. I put it away in a photo album where it belongs. It’s there with pictures of my parents, and pictures of me on a pony, and high school graduation. Memories. Just pleasant memories tucked away where they belong.”

Slowly, Alex began to smile. “Well, it’s about damn time. Which side of the bed do you prefer, sweet?”

H
ello, stranger.” Cassidy came into Laura’s apartment on Monday afternoon, and as her friend closed the door behind her, she added, “Are you home to stay, or—”

“No, just picking up a few things.” Laura avoided her friend’s searching look, going behind the breakfast bar to pour her a cup of coffee. “I was surprised to find you home this early. Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“They’re painting my office, so I got the afternoon off.”

Laura nodded and set the coffee cup on the bar. “Here, this is fresh.”

“Never mind the coffee,” Cassidy said, sitting down at the bar and reaching for the cup despite her statement. “I’ve been reading the papers today. Is it true? Was she murdered?”

Laura picked up her own cup and sipped, then shrugged. “We don’t know yet. The lieutenant who’s investigating is supposed to come to the house in about an hour to talk to Daniel.”

“How’s the family taking it?”

“According to their various personalities.” Laura smiled. “Amelia has rallied after a bad weekend. Anne obviously slipped, she says, and though it’s a terrible tragedy, we have to get on with our lives. Pretty much the same way she was when Peter was killed, smiling and aloof. She decided it would be a good idea for us to work on the portrait this morning. Daniel was inclined to suggest—forcefully—that she wait at least until after the funeral, but I reminded him it would keep Amelia occupied while he and Josie dealt with all the calls and the police. And I wanted to keep busy myself.”

“So you spent the morning painting Amelia?”

Laura nodded. “Kerry spent the morning with her music. Josie, as I said, helped Daniel, and Alex went into the city. Madeline ordered the car early and left; she said she had a friend she’d promised to visit, but it looked more to me like she was escaping. Not even the sedatives could shield her from that place in the garden roped off with bright yellow tape.”

Cassidy looked at her steadily. “And how is Laura holding up? You’re looking a bit taut, friend, and sounding ragged.”

“I’m feeling that way too.” Without much expression in her voice, Laura filled her friend in on most of the details of the weekend, sketching the events and characters. She also admitted her changed relationship with Daniel matter-of-factly, though she didn’t go into detail about it.

“You’re in love with him,” Cassidy said.

Laura lifted her cup in a small salute of acknowledgment. “Surely that doesn’t surprise you?”

“No, not especially. But that you’re virtually moving in with him so quickly like this—that surprises me. Laura … are you sure you can trust him? I mean, trust him not to hurt you?”

“Hurt me? You mean—”

“Well, Anne might have been pushed, right?”

“Daniel wouldn’t hurt me.” Laura didn’t realize it until she said it aloud, but she was as sure of that as she had ever been of anything in her life. Surer. “And he didn’t hurt Anne. I know it.”

“Okay, if you say so. But there are other kinds of hurt. You’re in love, but is he in love with you?”

Laura hesitated. “I don’t know. Sometimes, when he looks at me, I think he is. I know he … he feels something for me. Oh, hell, Cass, so much has happened since we met, I just don’t know. I’ve barely been able to think. But he said he needed me with him, and that’s why I’m going back there.”

Cassidy looked at her searchingly, with almost detached curiosity. “I always wondered what you’d be like in love. It’s body and soul for you, isn’t it? Absolutely all of you.”