Closet Confidential (10 page)

He called back over his shoulder. “What’s that charmin’ expression? Somewhere in the world it’s the cocktail hour?”

“It probably is. Can you make mine a virgin champagne julep?”

“Well, that’s a good idea.”

Harry returned with three champagne flutes. They all looked pretty much the same. Mine turned out to be a gentle ice tea with sugar syrup and mint. I had to admit it was delightful.

Harry sat on the opposite sofa and raised his glass in a salute.

I raised mine in turn.

“She’ll be down in good time, don’t you worry.”

“I’m sure she will. But I’m glad to have a chance to talk to you, Harry.”

“Really? Why?”

I liked the way he said it. Sounded like “wah.” Musical.

“I get the impression that Lorelei isn’t hugely enthusiastic about the whole closet reorganization project.”

He shrugged. He was an engaging man; he could manage a shrug without looking rude. It seemed to say,
Well, what can we do? We are all in this together
.

I pressed on. “Am I right?”

“Sometimes Lorelei needs a little nudge in a particular direction.”

“Am I a little nudge?”

“You are a lot more than that, Charlotte honey. You could be a very pleasant and even productive diversion for a lovely lady who is in desperate need of bein’ diverted from her own thoughts.”

“I’m not so sure I’ll be able to provide that diversion.”

“I don’t know anyone who loves clothes more than my girl, and I think when you all get right into the project, you’ll both enjoy yourselves thoroughly.”

“She didn’t seem very engaged yesterday. We only saw one closet out of the seven.”

“Seven? I think there might be more than that.”

“More than seven?”

“Well, I’m not certain. I don’t ever think much about closets. I can go check for you. Count ’em up.”

“It doesn’t matter how many. It only matters if Lorelei wants to get involved with the project. It won’t work otherwise.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will work.”

“Well, if her first closet is anything to go by, she’ll most likely have to sort things out and get rid of some items.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “Lorelei likes to hold on to things.”

“I suppose there are ways around that. You could add some more closets or convert a bedroom to storage space with racks or get some off-site storage for surplus clothing and gear, but she’d still have to decide what items would go where.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. There must be more to this whole closet business than meets the eye.”

You bet your champagne cocktail
, I thought,
and that’s why I can make a living at it.

“It’s an expensive business, and if she’s not keen, it will be a waste of your money and my time.”

By now, I was wondering how many ways I would have to make my point with Harry.

Harry said, “I don’t give a fig about the cost, Charlotte honey, if it makes a difference. I’m at my wit’s end trying to find distractions for her, so she can let her mind rest a bit.”

I cleared my throat. “I can only imagine how awful this whole situation is for both of you. Losing a child must be—”

Harry’s brown eyes filled. “The day Anabel died, the light went out of my life. I couldn’t ever have dreamed how empty I would feel. Nothing can prepare you for that complete devastation. Imagine how your own daddy would react.”

“Actually, I never knew my father. My mother divorced him a month before I was born.”

Harry stared at me for a very long minute. “And you never met him? Your own daddy?”

“That’s right. I had a series of stepfathers who were all very pleasant and kind enough. Generous, too. So the situation with Lorelei—”

“Is he still alive?”

“My father? I don’t know.”

“Your mama doesn’t know?”

“She never told me and she won’t talk about it. All I know is he was French from somewhere in Quebec. She’d moved on.”

Harry shook his head. “Seems to me a child should know her own daddy, but Mama knows best. I guess she has her reasons.”

“I imagine she does. They may even be good ones. But I prefer to believe that somewhere near Quebec City there’s a man who looks a lot like me and has spectacular storage units and a color-coded closet.”

I sensed relief in Harry’s laughter and took advantage of it to say, “But on a serious note, Lorelei probably needs to deal with her grief. She needs to get professional help. The closets could come afterward. If ever.”

“Honey, we’ve had lots of professional help. Psychologists, psychiatrists, grief counselors, even a medium. Like you say, she needs to deal with her grief. In fact we all do. Each in our own way. But the point is that all the professionals in this whole world won’t bring Anabel back.”

That was true enough. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I am trying to help and maybe I am making things worse.”

“Don’t you let yourself think like that. Now you make yourself comfortable and I’ll go check if Lorelei is able to get out of bed yet. I won’t be but a minute.” He patted my hand and left the room.

Five minutes later he descended the long architectural staircase and shook his handsome head sadly. Lorelei would not be making our meeting today.

The trip home was a lot faster. This time I was a bit over the speed limit. As I crossed the bridge to Woodbridge, I didn’t even notice the fast-flowing Hudson below. I was too busy thinking about the charged atmosphere in the Beauchamp home. Maybe that’s why I didn’t hear the siren until the dark car was on my bumper.

I pulled over with my heart thumping. How fast had I been going? It couldn’t have been that bad. I’m not much for speeding. I felt almost panicked as I rooted in my handbag for my car registration and license. Naturally, I always have them easily accessible.

I jumped when I saw the man loom in the window.

Connor Tierney leaned over and fixed those ice blue eyes on me.

“Pants on fire?” he asked.

“Very funny. I wasn’t going that fast.”

“How fast were you going?”

I hung on to the shreds of my dignity. “I don’t actually know the precise speed, but I am certainly not in the habit of . . .” I tried not to be distracted by the slight hint of his sexy aftershave. Why is that a weakness for me?

“Rule one: Don’t argue with the nice policeman.”

“Oh. Is there a nice policeman around here somewhere?” I glanced out my rear window.

He crossed his arms in front of him and leaned into my open window. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Write the ticket. If I was speeding, I’ll pay the price. I didn’t even know detectives carried radar guns with them.”

“We don’t. Like I said, I want to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“Well, about this situation with the Beauchamps for one thing.”

“I’m not sure there’s going to be a situation. Lorelei can’t even get out of bed today. She’s not in emotional shape to take on a big complicated project.”

“Big complicated project. Closets?”

“Don’t denigrate my work. That is surely outside the scope of your job description, Detective.”

“Speaking of, I hope you are not going to nose around about Anabel Beauchamp and get everyone all revved up.”

“By everyone, do you mean the Woodbridge police?”

“I mean some of the Woodbridge police and the library staff and who knows who else.”

I was outraged. “The library staff? They’re supposed to keep inquiries confidential. Wait a minute. I do not believe that Ramona would—”

“Rat you out to the fuzz?”

“Hilarious.”

“One of the patrons called the station to make a complaint that you were disturbing the peace in the library and stirring up controversy over Anabel Beauchamp’s death.”

“Wow. Crime rates in our city must be at an all-time low if detectives collect information about people asking questions in the library. Do you keep track of everyone’s overdue books, too?”

“Let’s say I happened to be passing by when the call came in.”

“Lucky me.”

“I need you to promise me you won’t get yourself involved in another investigation.”

“Seriously, there’s no way I intend to get involved in an investigation. I am merely worried about Anabel’s mother, who may or may not be my client after today. She thinks someone killed her daughter. I don’t know why, and I don’t know anything about the circumstances. I have known Mrs. Beauchamp for years, and I knew Anabel slightly and liked her very much. I got the impression when I was talking to Nick that he saw something that didn’t look right. Now, I’m fully aware that Nick Monahan is an idiot, and I can always tell when Pepper’s lying. So as she believes it was a tragic accident, I am prepared to accept that.”

“What about me? Didn’t you think I was telling the truth?” I heard the jingle of his keys.

“Not sure. I don’t know much about you.”

“But we had such a great evening out a few weeks back.”

“Right. I have vague memories of that.”

“I thought we’d have more of those.”

“Did you?” My voice was chilly enough to frost up the windows.

“Yeah. But then I had to take leave and fly back to my hometown to handle some urgent family business. My brother was injured on duty. He has a young family and he needed help. I should have called you, but everyone in my family dropped whatever they were doing and pulled together for his wife and kids.”

“Oh.” I felt about as tall as Truffle and Sweet Marie.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get in touch sooner. I didn’t want to mention it today in front of your shadow.”

“His name is Jack. And I apologize. I should have figured there was a good reason why you never called back.”

It sure was my day to say sorry a lot.

“I did try a few times, but that guy always answers.”

“Jack.”

“Is he always around?”

“He’s my oldest and best friend.”

Tierney watched me carefully for a while. “So I wanted to ask you out again this morning, but then you showed up with him. Is he your pet pit bull?”

I couldn’t hold back a bubble of laughter. The notion of baby-crazy Jack as a pit bull was nothing short of hilarious.

“Don’t curl your lip like that. Jack thinks you are going to arrest me or hassle me or something.”

“I think he’s jealous. Did you take a look at his face?”

“Not the case. You can always ask for me if he answers the phone, you know. Does he say I’m not there? He never even mentioned you called.”

“I hang up. If you’re there with him, it’s not the time for me to explain why I didn’t ask you out again.”

“What’s your excuse now?”

He grinned. “My excuse must be in my other pants pocket. So would you like to go out to dinner tonight?”

“Oh. I can’t.”

“Why not?” I guess if you’re a detective you get used to asking the questions and expecting answers.

“It’s girls’ night with Sally and Margaret. It’s a sacred tradition. I wouldn’t dare miss it.”

Tierney had met both of them, and in fact he’d been invited to the dinner after Margaret eloped with Frank, one of his colleagues. I didn’t mention that Jack often turned up for girls’ nights as the silly boy continues to be unclear on certain concepts, such as who’s a girl and who isn’t. When challenged, he claims reverse sexism and hauls out the heavy artillery from his many logic courses to win his point. Usually one of us real girls falls asleep from the sheer tedium.

“Tomorrow then?”

I looked up at those ice blue eyes and smiled. “Tomorrow will be great. My schedule’s absolutely clear.”