A Murderer Among Us (18 page)

Meredith gazed steadily into her mother’s eyes. “I think I love him, Mom.”

Lydia gasped as the ground seemed to shift beneath their table. The waitress set down their coffees with a smile. Lydia stared back as if she were a space alien.

“You’re infatuated with a good-looking guy who listens to you complain about your husband. That’s not love, Meredith.”

Meredith gave a rueful laugh. “I’ll take it over sitting in silence because you both know whatever words come out of your mouths will lead to an argument.”

“What do you and Jeff argue about?”

“Everything. A toy I want to buy for Greta. I want to throw out the old den couch you gave us and get a new one. If you heard Jeff, you’d think we were poor. I keep telling him that’s why we took out the home equity loan. So we can buy what we need.”

“How much do you owe?”

Meredith shrugged. “Around fifty thousand dollars.”

“And you have your monthly mortgage payments, which are hefty, if I remember correctly.”

Meredith glared at her. “I’m not asking you to help out.”

“I already have—with the down payment,” Lydia reminded her. When Meredith didn’t answer, Lydia continued, “I think you should take the offer to return to work next semester.”

“Jeff told you! He had no right!”

“I don’t know about that, but I think it’s a good idea. You’ve been too isolated staying at home. You’re better off teaching and socializing with your colleagues. Money will become less of a problem.”

“Working’s supposed to make me forget about Steve and turn Jeff and me into a happy couple? Get real, Mom. Things don’t work that way.”

Lydia sighed as she ventured into deeper waters. “Meredith, how well do you know Steve Thiergard?”

“Well enough. Why?”

“Did you know he’s been selling dangerous herbs to older women desperate to regain their youth?”

Meredith hesitated, then said, “I knew he was selling them, but they’re not dangerous.”

“We don’t know that because the tests haven’t been completed. Steve said so himself on Thursday.”

“Steve told me they’ve seen enough good results to put the compound on the market. It actually enhances a woman’s appearance and vitality. What’s holding up production is some silly glitch involving filing or registration.”

“The glitch is probably because the capsules have been implicated in causing heart attacks.”

Meredith shook her head. “Not true. The compound is perfectly safe for healthy women. The three women who got sick during the trials had previous heart conditions. Steve told me the label on the bottle will read ‘Contraindicated for anyone with heart disease’ in big, bold letters.”

She leaned forward and her voice filled with emotion. “Steve’s totally dedicated to promoting this compound so older people can lead fuller lives. If anything, his intentions are altruistic.”

“Now who’s being naive?” Lydia demanded. “Your boyfriend’s been peddling the stuff at Twin Lakes and charging a small fortune for each bottle. Claire Weill was taking the compound before she was killed.”

“Mom, you don’t think Steve had anything to do with her murder!”

“No, I don’t,” Lydia admitted, “but Marshall Weill was furious with him once he learned he’d been selling the capsules to his wife. And Steve lied to me. He said they weren’t the same capsules he was raving about on Thanksgiving, when I know damn well they are!” She grimaced. “Steve Thiergard’s more devious than you know. It’s probably how he managed to buy himself a Jaguar.”

“He told me he’d inherited money from a great-uncle,” Meredith said softly.

The waitress stopped by to offer coffee refills. Lydia asked for the check. They drove home in silence. A few times Lydia opened her mouth to urge Meredith to end her relationship with Steve, then closed it again, sensing that any more motherly advice would infuriate her daughter. She’d spoken her mind and expressed her outrage regarding Steve’s shady dealings. Meredith had turned him into her savior. On the other hand, her daughter had a good head on her shoulders. Lydia sighed. She’d done all she could. The rest was up to Meredith.

She pulled into Merry’s driveway and was surprised when her daughter turned to hug her. “Thanks for listening, Mom, and for not telling me what an awful person I am.”

Lydia stroked her daughter’s sleek hair. “Of course you’re not an awful person, Merry, but I hate to see you do something foolish that will destroy your family. Seriously consider working next semester. I’ll watch the girls the afternoons I’m free and help pay for a woman the other three days.”

Merry gave her a rueful smile. “Thanks for your kind offer. I’ll think it over and let you know.”

Lydia drove home slowly, musing about the fragility of life. It wasn’t only grave illness and accidents that changed people’s lives suddenly and irrevocably. Fraying relationships—especially between husband and wife—caused misery to everyone involved. Relationships had to be nurtured or they withered and died.

She’d been unfair to Merry, thinking she was the root of all her marital problems. Of course there had to be discord between her and Jeff for her to go willingly into the arms of another man. Her fondness for her son-in-law had blinded her to his part in their strained relations. Lydia shook her head as she passed the security gate and entered Twin Lakes. Repairing the damage wasn’t going to be easy, either. Relationships were much too complex to expect a quick and simple solution.

* * *

She knew something was wrong the moment she entered the house. Reggie came barreling toward her, wailing his complaint. Lydia took him into her arms and nestled her face in his fur as she walked cautiously through the kitchen.
Nothing untoward here,
she thought, moving on through the dining area to the living room. The damage was to the long side window—a hole that had scattered pieces of glass over the carpet. Shocked, she nearly dropped Reggie, causing him to yowl in complaint. She set him down gingerly before approaching the rock that had landed obscenely on a sofa. Her hands trembled as she removed the note from the string that kept it in place.

“This is a warning,” it said. “Keep your nose out of other people’s affairs or something bad will happen to you.”

She giggled with nervous laugher as she sank back against the other sofa, hugging a cushion to her chest. Someone had vandalized her home! Fear tempered her fury, and she tried to make light of her growing terror. The gesture was ridiculous, the note’s wording over the top. Lydia shuddered as reality asserted itself. Melodramatic or not, there had been two murders and the pool cover incident to prove that danger lurked in Twin Lakes. She’d be a fool not to take the threat seriously.

What exactly was it referring to? Her helping Marshall Weill prove his innocence? The affair between her daughter and Steve Thiergard? Exposure of Steve’s herbal capsule business? Or the fact that she was trying to discover who had murdered Claire Weill and Doris Fein?

Lydia had no idea, nor did she know who was warning her off in such a crude and childish manner. She knew, however, it was time to call Detective Sol Molina to inform him what had happened.

Fourteen

Sol Molina was pissed. His displeasure came through loud and clear as he paced up and down Lydia’s kitchen floor, berating her in the coldest, most formal of tones, for being the most foolish—no!—the most arrogant, irresponsible woman on Long Island for offering to help Marshall Weill clear his name.

What was she thinking? Where were her wits? Her common sense? Didn’t she realize that by poking around and not leaving the police work to him and his men she was antagonizing the murderer, who undoubtedly had thrown the rock?

“But I haven’t questioned anyone about Marshall,” she insisted. Frantically, she racked her brain to come up with a plausible alternative. “Maybe someone threw the rock for another reason.”

“Name one!” he snapped.

His anger flustered her, and for a moment Lydia’s mind went blank.

“Viv Maguire’s the most logical suspect. She was furious to see me at Marshall’s house yesterday when she stopped by.”

“Why the hell were you there?”

Lydia squirmed under his scrutiny. Why was he so enraged?

“We were talking. What else? I told Marshall if he didn’t kill his wife and Doris, then someone might have wanted to make it look like he did. I asked him for a list of everyone who might have it in for him.”

“Where is this list?”

“In my den. Do you want to see it?”

“Please. And if you have a copier, I’d appreciate your making a duplicate for me.”

She left and returned a minute later, a copy of the list in hand. Molina dropped into a chair to study the names. He stretched out his legs. They were slender but strong, Lydia noticed. Nicely shaped. She imagined he’d look good in a bathing suit or…

Blushing, she concentrated on answering his questions about the people Marshall had listed. As she spoke, the detective jotted down notes.

When they were finished, he said, “We still don’t know if Mrs. Fein’s death was a homicide. The ME’s leaning toward a coronary, and running tests. Her medical records indicate she had a weak heart. However,” he gazed meaningfully at her, “they found traces of the same herbal compound in her system that Mrs. Weill had taken.”

“Oh, no!” If Doris had heart problems, the capsules may very well have caused her coronary. In which case—Lydia pressed her hands together to stop them from trembling—Steve may have caused her death.

Molina fixed a stern eye on her. “What’s going through that overactive brain of yours?”

She couldn’t meet his gaze. “I was just wondering if there’s another tie-in with the two deaths, that’s all.”

“Our thought precisely. Believe me, we’re checking out every lead.”

He stood abruptly and reached for the rock and the note he’d placed inside separate plastic bags. He was about to leave. Lydia felt obliged to tell him about Steve Thiergard and his herbal capsules, but the words wouldn’t come. She dreaded mentioning his name for fear the police would find out about his affair with Meredith. In which case, Jeff would hear about it and he’d divorce her. Two women were dead but Meredith and her family were alive. They needed her protection. However, Steve couldn’t be allowed to continue peddling those pills and put more lives in danger.

Not to worry. The police would find out about Steve eventually. If he severed his relationship with Meredith now, it need never be mentioned in any of their reports. The solution to everything, she realized as she showed the detective to the door, was to deal with Steve Thiergard on her own.

Molina gave her the first smile of the afternoon. “I wish you’d go to Florida for the next few months. I don’t like having to worry about you.”

Her heart lurched. “I won’t do anything rash.”

“Then throw away that list and promise me you won’t go around asking questions.”

She shrugged.

He studied her for a minute. “Lydia, you don’t owe Marshall Weill the time of day, much less the obligation of proving his innocence—if he is innocent.”

“I know, but I’ve done my share of upsetting his life.”

He cleared his throat. “I hate to think you’ve come under his spell like all those foolish women.”

Lydia burst out laughing. “Contrary to what you think, I am not a foolish woman.”

“I’m delighted to hear that.” He bent down and brushed his lips against hers. Then he opened the door and stepped outside, letting in a blast of wintry air. He turned and winked.

“Take care of yourself, and call a glazier to put in a new window. My men are questioning your neighbors to find out if they’ve seen anything. And I’ll have a chat with Mrs. Maguire.”

She nodded and, too flushed with happiness to feel the cold, watched him get into his car.

“Meow.”

Reggie brushed against Lydia’s leg to announce he was hungry. He wove around her feet, but she continued to ignore him. What was wrong with his mistress, standing at the open door with a dopey grin on her face? Didn’t she care that he was starving and needed nourishment? Disgusted, Reggie nipped her ankle.

Lydia yelped at the stinging pain that snapped her out of her reverie. She fed Reggie then cleaned up the broken glass she’d left as Sol had instructed her to so he could view the scene. Careful not to cut herself, she gathered up the larger pieces, then vacuumed the carpet and the sofa several times.

All the while her mind whirled like a fan in high gear. She had ruffled someone’s feathers. The question was whose? The doorbell rang, interrupting her speculations. Lydia wasn’t surprised to find Peg on her doorstep, the brown rabbity eyes blinking with a blend of commiseration and excitement. She thrust a piece of paper at Lydia.

“Sorry to hear what happened. Here’s the name of a glazier I’ve used. He’s good and he’s reasonable.”

“Thanks, Peg. I can’t believe someone did this in broad daylight.”

Peg gave her a baleful look. “Oh, I can. As I told the detective who came to my house, once the weather turns cold and grim, people stay indoors. I didn’t notice anyone skulking about.” She glanced toward the broken window. “Of course I never saw who threw the rock since that window faces the Winslows’ house.”

“They’re away in Arizona,” Lydia commented, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

“Need any help cleaning up the mess?”

“No, thanks, I’ve taken care of that. I’ll call the glazier.”

“Put a towel or a piece of cardboard over the window to keep out the draft. Any idea who did this?”

Lydia shook her head. “None whatsoever.”

Peg shrugged. “Things were quiet here, until you stirred them up. Not that I’m blaming you,” she quickly added. “Marshall’s past was bound to come out, one way or another.”

“You sound as if you knew about it before I broke the news.”

Peg shrugged. “He told me about it one day when we were discussing investments.”

“Then other people must have known as well,” Lydia said slowly.

“Probably a few.” Peg reached out to squeeze Lydia’s arm. “Be careful. An evil force is loose in Twin Lakes. You don’t want to get caught in its grip.”

Lydia watched Peg walk across the lawn and enter her house through the garage. What was that all about? It sounded like a cryptic warning. Was Peg, in her unique and peculiar manner, offering her solace, or was she advising her to lie low?