Beads of Doubt (21 page)

I let my eyes widen. “Katie said a
word
!”

“Don’t tell my kids.” She looked rueful. “Do you ever think it would be easier if we were just like everybody else?”

“Honey, we are just like everybody else. Trust me on that.”

“I always think everyone else is smarter and happier.”

“Most people think that—about everybody else. It may be the single biggest problem in the world.”

She didn’t look convinced. “I’ll go round up my kids and get started on my calls. Bye.”

“Bye, honey.”

 

I was driving slowly, looking for house number 9038.
It would be on my right, and it was the home of the Yancys, Earl and Louise, clients of Andrew Lynch.

The neighborhood was very nice, in a northwest section of Austin called Balcones Village. The houses were mildly reminiscent of the seventies; they were large, nestled on good-sized lots with full-grown trees making the area lush and green. Between the houses I could glimpse the golf course, and if I went far enough down the road, I knew I’d end up at the Balcones Country Club.

I had a reporter friend who lived nearby, and I’d visited him more than once, except I always got lost in the twisting and turnings of the streets. I had finally located the street; now, if I could only find 9038. I hadn’t told anyone I was coming here. Actually I was headed for the hospital when I realized it was Saturday and Tess would probably be overwhelmed with people. I would see her later or the next day. She’d love to hear about the poker tournament. I just had to hope Beth and I would come back alive.

I passed a long ranch-style home with a circular drive and banana trees coming up near the front porch. Next to that was a two-story, tan-brick house that was a little institutional looking, but exceptionally neat. I squinted at the numbers beside the porch—9038, finally. I had found the home of the Yancys.

Not only had I not told anyone I was coming, but I also hadn’t called the Yancys first. It just seemed wiser to show up and request a few minutes of their time. I didn’t want them prepared. I wanted them to tell me the truth about Andrew and his investments. They might give me exactly the information I needed, which would be great, since then I wouldn’t have to go to the poker tournament.

There were no cars on the street, so I parked in the driveway and took my purse with me as I went to the door. It was painted a creamy color that matched the trim. Conservative, but in good taste. I rang the doorbell and waited, wondering if they would be there.

“Yes?” The door opened and Mrs. Yancy was standing there. I recognized her from the party and the office. I knew now what had made the identification so difficult at the party: then she’d had her hair pulled up with a magnificent Chinese clip holding it in place. In the office she’d had her hair down and in an old-fashioned pageboy, the way it was now.

Everything about her was classic, lovely, and just a bit out of date.

“Hello,” I said, looking up at her. “You’re Louise Yancy, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. And you’re Kitzi Camden! We were at your party the other night, and I never had the opportunity to meet you. Won’t you come in?”

I followed her through the house, which was a little dark, nicely decorated, and like Mrs. Yancy, a little out of date. The carpet was beige, the couches a light turquoise silk, and there were several glass cases with Hummel figurines. The pinch-pleated drapes were a soft gold and lined.

“We usually keep it dark in here so the energy bills won’t be so high,” she said, opening the drapes. “Electricity is so expensive these days, and Austin is not going to get any cheaper.”

“Oh, believe me, I know about that,” I said.

She smiled. “Yes, I’m sure you do. But your home is lovely. Please, sit down, Miss Camden.”

“Kitzi.”

“And I’m Louise.” We sat on opposite couches.

“Your home is lovely, too,” I said. “And right on the golf course.”

“Isn’t that nice? Earl, my husband, and I used to play a great deal, but he had a heart attack a few years ago, so we’ve cut back. I try to get in a few days a week, and then sometimes I’ll be on the back porch and friends will go by in their carts and invite me to join them. It’s only the third hole, so I just grab my clubs and go.”

“How fun.”

“There are some advantages to being this far out of Austin,” she said. “Oh, and I enjoyed your party so much the other night. I have wanted to go inside the Manse for years. The conservatory is spectacular. How in the world do you keep the overhead glass clean?”

“I have a company come in four times a year and wash it. Anyone who thinks I’d get up on a ladder that high is wrong.” We both laughed. “I’m glad that you enjoyed yourself. It was nice of Andrew to bring you.”

“Yes, it was,” she said. “Now, what can I do for you? I know you didn’t come all the way out here to talk about your party.”

“You’re right, I didn’t. I hope this isn’t too presumptuous of me, but I need some help and I’m hoping you can give it to me.” She nodded for me to go on and I said, “You probably know that Andrew worked with my cousin, Houston.”

“Yes. And I’ve met your cousin. He’s a very nice man.”

“Thank you.” Amazing how many women like Houston. “And I’m sure you’ve heard about Andrew. That he . . .”

“The police were here yesterday.” She looked down at the floor, shaking her head. “It isn’t right. For a young man to die in that manner, hit over the back of the head with an old candlestick . . .” She trailed off. “And then to end up in a Dumpster like that. It’s awful, just awful.”

“Did you know Andrew well?”

She brought her head up to look at me, her eyes sorrowful. “We met him when he was just eighteen years old. That was a very long time ago, wasn’t it?” She sighed softly. “Our grandson, Donovan, was in the fraternity that Andrew pledged at the University of Texas. In fact, Donovan was his big brother at the fraternity house. They were such good friends. Donovan brought Andrew here for Sunday dinner many times, and then they’d go into the living room with Earl and watch football.” She smiled. “They were so full of fun and energy. We loved having them.”

Something had happened, I could tell by the wistfulness in her voice, but the patina of gentility in her house kept me from coming straight out and asking what it was. Instead I said, “I thought that Andrew graduated from a college in California. UCLA?”

“I guess that’s where he went after the accident. I knew he left.”

I waited for her to go on, and after a few moments she did.

“The boys, Donovan and Andrew, were with another friend one night coming home from Sixth Street.” Sixth Street is part of downtown where many of the clubs are—a hangout for the college kids. “There was a car accident,” she went on, her voice soft but firm. “Donovan was killed. It was such a tragedy for all of us.” She sighed, then straightened as though being strong might make it more bearable. “The other boy ended up in a wheelchair. Andrew was in the hospital for a while, and then he went away.”

I was too far away to touch her, and I wasn’t sure she’d want my sympathy. “I’m sorry,” I said.

There was a silence in the dim room. She only let it linger for a minute or so, and then she looked at me with a smile. “When Andrew called to tell us he was back, I was surprised at how excited and happy we were to see him. I guess it’s just the energy.” She laughed softly. “Being around all that exuberance is better than watching television, that’s for sure.”

“Andrew helped invest for you, didn’t he?”

“Yes. Of all the people in the world, we knew that Andrew would take care of us as if we were family. I suppose in a way, I felt as though we were. He was almost all we had left of Donovan.”

She went to the big, old cabinet-style TV. I could see the warmth in her face as she picked up a picture and ran her finger across it as if there might be dust. Or maybe it was just to make contact with the young man who gazed back at her from the photo.

“Is that your grandson?” I asked.

“Yes.” She handed me the picture. “Wasn’t he a handsome devil?”

And he was. What I held appeared to be his high school graduation picture. He was wearing a suit and leaning forward toward the camera, his smile just a touch cocky but engaging. His hair was long—it came below his ears—and his eyes had a premature crinkle of humor. I think I’d have liked Donovan.

I couldn’t help but smile as I handed back the photo. “What a charmer. It’s like he’s having such a good time—even getting his picture taken.”

“That was Donovan. He could find fun anywhere. Even here at his grandparents’ house.”

She put the picture on the TV and took a new seat in an upholstered armchair of watery turquoise stripes. Her happy smile had faded. “Life is sometimes very hard, isn’t it?”

I was thinking of Andrew and Tess when I nodded. “Yes. Sometimes it is.”

“Some things just seem wrong, don’t you agree?”

“I agree,” I said. “A friend once said if you want fair, go to the carnival.”

“That’s terrible but so true. As we get older, it seems as though we see more—or maybe we just recognize the wrongness of things. Like criminals. Why are they alive when good people die? And why don’t we die in order?” The words seemed hard coming from this gentle woman. “It should be the oldest first. It’s not right that our children and grandchildren leave before us. I know they’re going to a better place, but it’s so lonely without them. I read in the newspaper about a 105-year-old man who is living in France. Now what could he possibly be adding to the world?”

It was a great question and not one that I was qualified to answer. “I don’t know,” I said. “I keep thinking there’s a plan, but I’ve never understood it.”

Mrs. Yancy shook her head sorrowfully. Then said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make this a sad conversation.” She brought her hands to her lap. “Earl always says to stay in the present. I guess he’s right. Oh, and here you came all the way out here and I didn’t even offer you refreshments.” She stood up quickly. “Would you like something to drink? I have iced tea and sodas.”

“No, thank you. Please, stay where you were. I’m fine.” She sat again, and I went on. “I really came to see if you could give me some information. I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time.”

“What kind of information?”

“I was hoping you could tell me how Andrew invested money for his clients. What he was buying. Stocks? Bonds? Real estate? I can’t seem to find out.”

She thought about it before she said, “Well, he insisted on diversification, of course, but primarily with us he was buying a boat. A yacht, actually. It was very large, and it had been seized because of drugs. Andrew used our funds to bid on it at federal auction and got it for a small percentage of its value. The
High Jinx
. It’s in the process of being remodeled, just like a house.”

“And when it sells there will be a profit?”

Her chest seemed to deflate. “That was the intention, but investments don’t always turn out the way they are supposed to. I’m sure you heard that we argued with Andrew at your party. I should apologize, and I am sorry. That was very rude of us. I was just so upset.” She stopped and shook her head, the sadness again evident on her face. “Now Andrew is dead and my last words to him were angry ones. I think I’ve lived too long.”

Her husband was just entering the room, and I swear he growled like a grizzly bear.

He could only have heard her last words:
I think
I’ve lived too long
.

“Louise, don’t do this to yourself.” He stopped between us, so that I saw just his profile. “Sometimes life is hard,” he told her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “But we’ve always made it through, and we will now. There are lots of good times ahead for us.”

Both gentleness and love showed on her face as she reached up and touched his hand. “And you’re almost always right, Earl. It’s very annoying sometimes, too.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve said that before.” He was smiling as he turned to me. “You’re Kitzi Camden.”

I stood up and held out my hand. “And you must be Earl Yancy. Nice to meet you.”

His hand was large but the skin was crinkly, like all the juice was out of his body. His voice was welcoming, though. “Likewise. I always like having pretty women at the house.”

“Oh, Earl,” Louise said. “Why don’t you sit down and join us?”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “But I really need to go. I didn’t realize how late it’s getting, and I’m on my way to visit a friend in the hospital.”

“Sure we can’t talk you into some wine?” Earl asked. “The sun is over the yardarm. Or the yardman. Or someplace.”

“No, thanks,” I said with a laugh. “I’d better go, but I’ll take a rain check.” I started toward the door, and they followed. As Earl opened the door for me, I said to Louise, “I really appreciate your help. And anytime you’d like to come by and see the Manse, just give me a call. I’d love to give you a guided tour.” I pulled a card out of my purse; for once I didn’t have to spend time digging for it. “You can always reach me at one of those numbers.”

“That’s wonderful. We’ll do it,” Louise said as I left.

I climbed into the Land Rover and tossed my purse on the passenger seat. Now I had two completely conflicting reports of Andrew’s expertise. Louise had said that things didn’t turn out well; Andrew had bragged that he was making more money for his clients than Houston was.

I started the car and drove off, thinking about that. Seemed to me there was only one way to prove who was right. Since the police had Andrew’s computer, and we couldn’t get back in it, and since they had his files, we would just have to track down the
High Jinx
. That big a yacht wouldn’t be impossible to find. There had to be a registry of boat numbers, and that would mean the state. I was pretty sure I could influence someone to track down what I needed to know.