A Catered Thanksgiving (18 page)

“You think these paintings are authentic?” Libby asked her sister.

Bernie nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“They could be copies.”

Bernie studied the Renoir. She studied the other furnishings, noting the care with which everything had been placed. “I don't think they are. I think everything in this room is genuine. I think Monty saved the best of his collection for himself.”

Libby opened the closet door. There were four pairs of pants, three shirts, and a sports jacket hanging in the closet. “Well, he certainly didn't spend a lot of money on his clothes. Or his shoes.” She picked up the one pair in the closet. They were old Docksiders worn down at the heel. Then she put them back down on the floor, which was old and grimy. “I guess when Monty had the floor redone, he didn't bother with the closet,” she commented before she closed the door.

Bernie ran her finger lightly over the back of the Tang horse. “I can't imagine what it would be like to own something like this,” she murmured before going over to the nightstand and looking at the printed material stacked up on it. There were gallery catalogs, notices of impending sales from Sotheby's and other auction houses. Bernie paged through them. Judging by the check marks, it looked as if Monty was interested in bidding on an upcoming Turner and a Sargent landscape.

“I guess he lived for his art,” Bernie said as she put the catalog for an upcoming sale down on the nightstand and opened the drawer. There was nothing in it but a pack of tissues and a bottle of Motrin.

“You know,” Libby said, “I was thinking about how I would feel if our father spent every cent on his interests and nothing on us. Especially if the money was coming from a company that our mother's father had started.”

“That would probably make it worse.”

“Obviously, Monty thought that his art was a better investment than his children.”

“I hate to say this, but given Melissa and Geoff, he was probably right.”

And on that note, Bernie and Libby walked out of Monty's room, closing the door behind them, and headed for the stairs. They were almost there when Bernie noticed that the door to Geoff's room was half opened.

She poked Libby in the shoulder and indicated the door with her chin when Libby turned around. “We closed it all the way, didn't we?” she whispered.

“Yeah, we did. Maybe Geoff is behind the door,” Libby whispered back.

Bernie nodded. Then she walked over and kicked the door as hard as she could. The door slammed against the wall.

“Guess not,” she said.

She and Libby stepped inside.

“It would be pretty funny if Geoff was here all along,” Libby said.

“Not really,” Bernie answered as she looked around.

Geoff wasn't.

In fact, everything was the same.

Except for one thing.

The sword on the wall was gone.

T
he entire Field family—minus Monty and Geoff—was seated in the study, drinking coffee, when Bernie and Libby came in and told them what had happened with Geoff.

Perceval harrumphed and slapped the arm of the chair he was sitting in. “See, I knew Geoff was bent,” he pontificated. “I knew he was totally unreliable. I've been telling my brother that for years. But he wouldn't listen. He didn't want to know what was right in front of his face.”

“No one cares what you think, Perceval,” Lexus snapped. “The key issue here is that Geoff is wandering around the house, carrying that god-awful sword with him.” She turned to Bernie and Lexus. “I can't believe you let Geoff get away. How irresponsible can you be?”

“We didn't
let
him do anything,” Libby said as she unbuttoned her sweater. The place was now extremely warm, almost hot, really. Melissa must have hiked the heat up to eighty. “We couldn't stop him.”

“And you don't know where he is?” Lexus demanded.

“Not at the moment, no,” Libby replied. “We looked everywhere we can think of, and we can't find him.”

Ralph leaned forward in his chair. “Does that mean you looked in the bedrooms?”

“That's what I just said,” Libby told him.

“Who gave you permission to do that?” Ralph asked.

“Why?” Bernie asked. “Is there something you don't want us to see? Like your plans for your trip to India?”

“You're going to India?” Melissa asked Ralph.

“Perceval and I were going to India on business,” Ralph told her.

“Dad never told me,” Melissa said.

“Melissa,” Perceval replied, “my brother never told you about lots of things.”

“He never told me, either,” Greta said.

“Maybe,” Ralph said, “that's because he didn't want you to know.”

“It's an expensive trip,” Bernie said. “First class all the way.”

Ralph straightened up. “One can't do business looking like a beggar.”

Libby raised an eyebrow. “I find the timing suggestive, don't you, Bernie?”

“Absolutely, Libby.”

Perceval sniffed. “If you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting, I'm deeply offended.”

Bernie put her hand to her heart. “Oh, the pain.”

Perceval started to say something, but before he could answer, Lexus said, “Oh, for God's sake, Ralph, grow up. We have a real problem here with Geoff.” She turned back to Bernie and Libby. “Did you look downstairs?”

“Of course we did,” said Libby.

She and Bernie had searched all the rooms in the back end of the first floor without any luck. Then, thinking that Geoff could have also gone out through one of the downstairs doors, they'd checked the kitchen door. It had proved difficult to budge, because the door opened outward and there were almost two feet of snow butted up against it. And when they'd finally succeeded in opening it, they'd seen a pristine expanse of white. There were no tracks of any kind in it.

The same held true of the front door. Although it opened easily, no fresh footprints leading away from the house were visible. They could make out their old footprints, but those were already half filled in, with their direction clearly heading toward the house.

Then they'd checked the garage. She and Bernie had looked in and under the two cars parked there, had opened the cabinets and the utility bins, and had looked around the pallets that Perceval and Ralph had laid Monty out on. They'd even gone through the trash. Geoff hadn't been there, but the Dell had. Bernie had declared this to be a good thing, because at least they could cross that off their list. The last thing she and Libby had done was check the basement. It had been empty except for the hot water heater and a couple of old, broken-down bikes.

Lexus ran one of her fingers around the collar of her white turtleneck. “He's going to kill us all,” she announced. “He's going to hack us to bits. I knew Monty should never have allowed Geoff to bring that sword in the house. I told him it was dangerous. But Monty wouldn't listen. He always knew everything.”

“I very much doubt Geoff would do anything like that,” Melissa countered.

Since Bernie had last seen Melissa, Melissa had changed into a pair of low-riding, tight-fitting jeans, a man's wife-beater T-shirt, and a fire engine red hoodie that ended two inches above her waist, exposing a large roll of fat. It was not a good look for anyone, let alone Melissa.

“How can you doubt that?” Lexus cried. She waved her hands in the air. “He's already killed his own father. A man who will do that will do anything.”

Melissa snorted.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Lexus demanded.

“My God, you're such a drama queen.”

Lexus pointed at herself. “Me? Hardly. Aren't you concerned for your own safety?” she asked Melissa.

“Not even a little. Why should I be? If he kills anyone, which I highly doubt, he'll kill you,” Melissa told Lexus, “not me.”

“What a horrible thing to say,” Lexus replied.

“Well, I wasn't the one that ratted him out to my dad. I wasn't the one that told my dad Geoff was using drugs. I wasn't the one who told him he was stealing from the company.”

“That's ridiculous,” Lexus cried. “How can you make accusations like that?”

“Simple. I can make them because they're true.”

“Monty didn't know that Geoff was using drugs,” Lexus told her.

“Until you told him,” Melissa said.

Lexus shook her head vigorously. “No. No. No. You were the one that told. Not me.”

“What a colossal lie,” Melissa cried.

“I'm not saying anything that isn't true. Monty told me you had,” Lexus said. “But he already knew.”

“Now, there's a laugh,” Ralph said, chiming in.

“He did,” Lexus insisted.

“Monty never told you anything,” Ralph said. “He hardly spoke to you.”

“He most certainly did,” Lexus insisted. “He talked to me for hours and hours.”

“Ha,” Melissa said.

“Don't ‘ha' me,” Lexus spit back.

“He didn't talk to you. He hated you,” Melissa said. “Marrying you was the biggest mistake he ever made.”

Lexus drew herself up. “No, Melissa. He hated you.”

“He did not.”

“Yes, he did. He hated the way you were always tiptoeing around and trying to get money from him. He called you a loser and a sneak. In fact,” Lexus continued, “the more I think about it, the surer I am that you were the one who told Monty that Geoff was using coke and stealing money from the company to get it, and then, when Monty kicked Geoff out, you hatched the plan with Geoff to kill your dad. That's exactly the kind of thing you'd do.” Lexus touched her hands to her lips. “I'm appalled. I really am.”

Melissa grew pale. Then her cheeks became mottled. “How can you live with yourself, Lexus? My father loved me. And I had no idea what Geoff was doing. Why should I? We barely even talked.”

“Another lie, Melissa. Is nothing that comes out of your mouth the truth?”

“No. You're the liar,” Melissa protested. “You're the one that twists everything into something that it's not.”

“How stupid do you think I am?” Lexus demanded.

“You don't want me to answer that, do you?” Melissa asked.

Lexus fluffed out her hair before replying. “You can insult me all you want. That doesn't change the facts. You and Geoff were tight. You two were always together. In fact, you two were in the bunker together earlier in the day. You caused an explosion.”

“That was Geoff's fault,” Melissa shot back.

“Geoff's fault. Your fault. That just bears out what I was saying about you two,” Lexus said.

“We weren't tight, as you like to put it. I was down in the bunker with Geoff because he had a new idea for some fireworks and he wanted to show me.”

Greta twisted the gold bracelet on her wrist around. “Obviously, someone knew about Geoff and told Monty,” Greta observed.

“It's not obvious to me at all,” Ralph said, chiming in. “We have no proof whatsoever that Monty knew that his son was a cokehead. Or that he was taking money.”

“That's true,” Libby interjected.

“Of course it's true,” Ralph said, annoyed at being interrupted. “And it is irrelevant on top of everything else.”

“No, it's not,” Audie protested. “It gives Geoff a motive for killing Monty.”

“We don't know that,” Ralph said.

“We don't not know it,” Perceval interjected.

“You never have liked Geoff,” Ralph said to his brother.

“I like him, Ralph. I just believe in looking the facts in the face, as it were.”

“So do I, Perceval. So do I.” Ralph banged his mug on the side table for emphasis. A trickle of coffee ran down the side. “The only thing we know for sure is that Geoff had a package of something hidden in one of those stupid candles of his. In fact, we don't even know that it is what these…ladies…say it is.”

“Yeah,” Bernie said. “It's probably Ivory Snow.”

“Well, it might be,” Ralph said.

“Don't be an idiot,” Greta said to him. “Of course it's coke. Why else would Geoff be acting the way he is?”

Ralph favored her with a wintry smile. “There could be another reason.”

Greta leaned forward. “Like what?” she said.

Ralph waved his hands in the air. “I don't know. Something. I'm sure he'll have an explanation.”

Greta leaned back, a triumphant smile on her face. “I, for one, can hardly wait to hear it.”

“We will when we find him,” Ralph said.

“If we find him,” Greta said. “He's probably in the next county by now.”

“Oh, he's here all right. No one,” Perceval pointed out, “is going anyplace in this weather.”

Ralph unbuttoned his sweater. “Forgive me if I believe in the whole ‘innocent until proven guilty' thing.”

“How sweet,” Lexus said, the sarcasm dripping from her voice. “You probably are against capital punishment as well.”

“As a matter of fact, I am,” Ralph said.

“Wonderful.” Lexus pulled at the collar of her white cashmere turtleneck sweater. “That makes me feel so much better. I think we should all spend the night down here. It'll be safer.”

“You can do what you like,” Greta replied. “I intend to spend my night in a bed.”

“Aren't you afraid?” Lexus asked.

“Of Geoff? Hardly.”

“But he killed Monty. And we're going to be next.”

Greta fixed Lexus with a gimlet look. “You think that if you repeat that enough, we'll believe it?”

“I'm repeating it because it's true and I'm scared.”

“No. You're repeating it because it suits you.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“It's simple. You would like Geoff to get the blame for killing Monty.”

“What do you mean, get the blame? He
is
to blame.”

“No. I don't think so,” Greta said.

“Then who do you think is?”

“Guess,” Greta said, leaning forward again.

Lexus pointed at herself. “Are you suggesting I had something to do with it?”

Greta smiled. “I'm more than suggesting.”

Lexus put her hands to her heart. “How can you say something like that?” she protested. “I'm not the one who's disappeared. I'm not the one running around with a weapon.”

“No. But you're the one that has the most to gain.”

“No, Greta. You do.”

Greta pointed to herself. “Don't be stupid. Monty was going to sell me half of his shares in the company, so his death was not a good thing for me. In fact, for me his death translates into a lost opportunity. That's why I don't need to forge a new will.”

Lexus half rose. “And you think that I did that.”

“Yes, I do. Most definitely. In short, you killed him because you got tired of waiting for him to die.”

“I loved him.”

“You considered him a meal ticket. Unfortunately, once you were married, he didn't turn out to be a very good one. Which is why you killed him. Oh, wait.” Greta held up her hand. “Do something by yourself? Not your style. No. That's why you had Geoff do it, and now you want to finger him for it.”

“That's absurd. Why would I want Geoff found, then?”

“So you can kill him.”

Lexus glared at her. “You keep saying things like that, and I'm going to sue you for libel when we get out of here.”

Greta took a sip of coffee and put her cup down. “Boy, that just terrifies me.”

“It should.”

Greta laughed. “If I were you, I'd stop talking about Monty's will and how it leaves everything to you. Frankly, dear, I find that impossible to believe.”

“You do, do you?” Lexus said.

“Yes, Lexus, I do.” Greta held out her hands and studied her manicure.

“And why is that, Greta?”

“Simple,” Greta said, folding her hands back in her lap. “Monty told me, as he told Melissa and everyone else here, that he was going to divorce you, which would leave you on the street with nothing.”

“God, you are such a liar!” Lexus cried. “He was most certainly not going to divorce me. He was going to kick you and those other two worthless bums out.”

Audie half stood. “Are you talking about me and Bob?” he demanded of Lexus.

“You know what they say?” Lexus sneered. “If the shoe fits, wear it.”

Bernie and Libby watched the two women from the other side of the room. It appeared as if they'd reached a standoff. There was a thirty-second lull in the conversation, then the arguing started all over again.

Lexus turned to Libby and Bernie. “Perhaps Geoff is down in the bunker,” she said to them, as if the last five minutes of conversation hadn't taken place.