Family Case of Murder (5 page)

“That seems like an uneven trade. Start smaller,” she said.

“Kiss me goodbye. You haven’t kissed me in over three weeks since Christmas.”

“Do you keep track in your diary?” she teased.

“No, I keep track in the part of me that’s been permanently imprinted by you.” He reached for her just as headlights shone in the rearview mirror, indicating someone’s arrival.

“That’s Grandpa,” Lacy said.

“Of course it is,” Jason said. He brushed her hair from her face and kissed her cheek. “
New York
is looking better and better, don’t you think?”

She didn’t reply, but looking at his too-handsome face only an inch away, she couldn’t help but agree.
New York
was definitely looking up.

“See? The flight was perfect. We have your luggage. The rental car is secured. Check, check, check—we’re on our way.”

Jason was being Mr. Optimist, but Lacy was having a hard time following suit. “Let’s talk about last night,” she said.

“Wait, you sound angry. And we’ve been together all morning, which means that you’ve been harboring your anger and biding your time until we’re trapped in the car together.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m angry,” she said. Embarrassed was a better word. While she had been under the assumption that their—dare she say the word
date
—had been just that, in reality it had been a work dinner with Jason’s bosses. She had spent forever getting ready, sucking in her gut to fit into the perfect little black dress, only to be greeted by the sheriff and Detective Arroyo already sitting at their table. “You should have told me beforehand that it was a work thing.”

“You’re right, I should have.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because despite your outward chattiness, I know that you are, in fact, very shy. I was afraid that if I told you my bosses would be there, you wouldn’t want to come.”

“You make me sound like a freak. Maybe meeting new people isn’t my favorite, but I put forth the effort to be social.”

“You were great,” he said. He reached across the console and grasped her hand, giving it a squeeze. “You were very charming. Somehow you made them forget that article you wrote about the department. It was like magic. But I know meeting new people makes you uncomfortable, and I didn’t want you to stress about it beforehand.”

“Here’s a handy tip for you: springing it on me as we’re pulling into the parking lot doesn’t work great, either. I’m a grownup. If you want me to have dinner with your bosses, then all you have to do is ask. It’s this whole handy system of being there for each other that we have going on.” She squeezed his hand, and he smiled.

“I’m still getting used to the idea of having someone who actually wants to be there for me, so you’ll have to pardon me if I occasionally forget how it works,” he said.

They rode in comfortable silence a few minutes. “So, are you going to take the job?” she asked at last. The sheriff and detective had offered Jason the position of detective to replace Detective Brenner. He would have to apply, but basically they told him last night that the application process was a formality; he was a shoe-in.

“I don’t know.”

“What’s not to know? It sounds like a dream job. I mean, who makes detective at twenty six after so few years on the force?”

“That’s the thing: I don’t feel like I’ve earned it yet. The other guys are going to resent me, and I like working patrol.”

“You like working when other people sleep, physically chasing down the bad guys and riding around in your cruiser all night?”

“Well, yeah. Sometimes it’s boring, especially the riding around in my car part, but other times it’s a lot of fun. It’s where the action is, and I like to be where the action is. Being a detective is basically a desk job. Occasionally I would be on call and have to work crazy hours, but generally it’s Monday through Friday, eight to four. I’m not sure if I’m ready to be that boring and settled yet. Though it would mean a pay raise.”

“But saying no to something when the sheriff has basically hand picked you doesn’t seem like a smart career move,” she pointed out.

“And then there’s that. Part of me knows I would be crazy to say no, but I still feel reluctant to say yes. It’s confusing.” He darted her a glance. “This must be what it feels like to be you, what with the constant uproar of warring voices in your head.”

“Did we not promise to get along this weekend?” she said.

“Yes,” he said. “A promise that was put to the test when I found your boyfriend waiting on your doorstep this morning.”

“Tosh was just saying goodbye,” Lacy said.

“No, he was trying to get me to beat the life out of him so I would lose my job and have to miss our flight.”

“Yes, I’m sure that was his evil, evil plan.”

“Why else would he have said that whole ‘You’d better take good care of her,’ thing before we left?” He made his voice higher to imitate Tosh, which wasn’t true to life because Tosh was a resonant baritone.

“Uh, maybe because he actually wants you to take good care of me,” Lacy suggested.

“That goes without saying. That was gratuitous and provoking. I wouldn’t say that to him if the situation were reversed. Then again, I wouldn’t have been standing on your porch like a sad puppy, either. Loser.”

“Enough talking about Tosh.”

“Those are my favorite words,” Jason agreed.

“We’re getting close. Do you want me to turn on the GPS?” she asked.

“I thought you knew where this place was,” Jason said.

“I was there once a few years ago, but it was a very brief visit, and I don’t remember much about it. I sort of blocked it out. Did you notice Detective Arroyo’s ring last night?”

“Woman, I am filled to the brim with testosterone. Why do you think I would notice jewelry or fashion? I’m beginning to doubt my masculinity in your presence.”

“I didn’t mean like ‘Oh, wasn’t that ring adorable, couldn’t you just die?’ I mean that it looked almost exactly like the one Ed McNeil and Detective Brenner wore.”

“Not again with the conspiracy theories,” Jason said.

“But Detective Brenner alluded to the fact that the rings mean something, and why else would three men in the same town be wearing the same ring?”

“It’s probably one of those secret clubs old men like. But my grandpa was part of one of those, and basically all they did was drink beer and complain about their wives. Nothing nefarious about that.”

“I suppose,” she said. She reached into her bag, pulled out a long white scarf, and began wrapping it around her head. Jason watched her, darting glances whenever he could take his eyes off the road.

“There’s no polite way to say it, so I’m just going to ask: is this family Hindu? Because I can’t figure out why else you’re building a turban on your head.”

“It’s because of the monkey,” she replied.

Jason sighed and gripped the steering wheel tighter. “I know I’m going to regret asking, but what monkey?”

“We’re going to Robert’s aunt’s house. She’s the one in the family with all the money. She owns this amazing house in
Sag Harbor
, built during prohibition and one of the few surviving estates of its kind in the area. She’s old, single, and eccentric. You know how some older women devote all their love and energy to their cats or dogs when they don’t have spouses or children?”

“You’re not seriously about to tell me that this woman devotes all her love and energy to monkeys,” he said.

“Just one. And it turns out that the monkey really, really hates red hair, a fact I learned the hard way on my one and only visit to the estate.”

The GPS went crazy when Jason pulled off the main road, but he turned off the car to shut it up. “In casual conversation when I’m driving down the road, you cannot insert that you have to cover your hair because of some old lady’s monkey. That’s how people die in car accidents. Now start from the beginning and tell me about the monkey.”

“Like I said, the old, rich aunt has all the money in the family. She controls the purse strings and everything else. So Robert and I were beginning to get serious and we had to make the ubiquitous trek-out-to-the-Hamptons-to-see-if-Aunt-Enid-approves pilgrimage. Only apparently it wasn’t Aunt Enid’s approval we needed; it was the monkey’s. Everything was going really well. I thought Aunt Enid and I were hitting it off, and then the monkey showed up and it went downhill from there.”

“What happened?”

“It took one look at me and freaked out. The theory is that it had a previous owner or trainer with red hair who was abusive. All I know is that it jumped on me, bit my neck, and began tearing at my hair. I had to go to the hospital and get stitches and a tetanus shot. I never saw the aunt again, and Robert broke up with me soon after.”

“You mean to tell me that your spineless weasel of a fiancé dragged you out to the
Hamptons
to see if his crazy rich aunt approved of you as if you were a cow at the fair? Then he allowed the biddy’s monkey to bite you, and then he broke up with you because the aunt and monkey didn’t approve?”

“When you say it like that, I feel really silly about all those hours I spent crying because a monkey didn’t like me,” she said.

Jason put his arms around her and pulled her close, nestling her head on his chest. “You know, Red, I keep trying to remember what life was like without you, and I draw a blank. And I think maybe that’s because that’s what it was like—blank, boring, and monkey-less. So what else do I need to know about this freak show of a family we’re getting ready to spend the weekend with?”

“Robert’s parents are very nice, as long as they’re not together. His mother is under the delusion that she’s French, only she butchers the language any time she tries to use it. She also believes that cheese from a can is the equivalent of an after-dinner cheese plate, so don’t be alarmed when, after the meal, a plate of crackers and spray cheese emerges. She thinks it’s continental and fancy. Robert’s father suffers under the delusion that he’s a Kennedy. He talks a lot about yachting, though to my knowledge he was born and raised in
Indiana
and has never set foot on a boat. All of that would be merely eccentric if not for what happens when the two of them get together.”

“What happens?”

“
Mt.
Vesuvius
. You’ll see; it’s very odd. They have a way of communicating with each other that’s, uh, disconcerting to say the least. But it’s their way, and you’ll eventually get used to it. Robert told me stories about the other members of his family, but I never had the chance to meet them.”

“Because of the monkey,” Jason said.

“Because of the monkey,” Lacy agreed.

“Why don’t you take off your turban and ask them to put the monkey away like any sane person should?” Jason suggested.

“Because I don’t want to be that person, the one who makes special requests and causes drama.”

“So it’s better to let a monkey tear patches off your scalp?”

“No, it’s better to cover my hair and survive the weekend as best I can.”

“Fine, but I have to warn you that if the monkey attacks you again, it will be the last thing he ever does.”

“You say the sweetest things,” Lacy said.

“I say the oddest things, thanks to you,” Jason said. “I never imagined myself telling a woman I would defend her from a monkey, and then I met you and it somehow makes sense.” He kissed the top of her head, let her go, and started the car.

“Whoa,” Jason said as they ascended the long drive because the house was just that impressive. It had a major wow factor, and it wasn’t difficult to see why all the relatives sucked up to the aunt. Someday when she died, the grand house would belong to whomever she chose to inherit. Its location alone made it worth many millions of dollars, but it also happened to be a truly impressive house with lots of interesting architectural features from the arts and crafts period. “Is this a Frank Lloyd Wright house?”

“I don’t think so, but it looks like one of his. Maybe a student or a copycat designed it.”

“Ready?” Jason asked. He parked the car and turned toward her.

“As I’ll ever be,” Lacy said.

“C’mon. The sooner you get this over with, the sooner the monkey will be off your back.”

“Were you silent the last twenty minutes because you were trying to find a way to work that joke into the conversation?” Lacy said.

“What is the point of being with someone who was bitten by a monkey if I can’t make fun of it?” Jason asked. He opened her door and took her hand to help her out, keeping it as they walked to the house.

A maid answered the door and neither Lacy nor Jason was sure what to do because she simply stared at them as if they were supposed to know.

“Lacy Steele and Jason Cantor to see Riley Steele, please,” Lacy said after a few seconds of awkward silence. And then she curtsied.

The maid turned her back to them and they followed her inside. “I don’t think you’re supposed to curtsy to maids,” Jason whispered.

“She made me nervous,” Lacy whispered. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Not curtsy,” he replied.

The maid deposited them in the grand foyer and hurried away.

“Do you think she’s going to tell the other household staff that I curtsied?” Lacy asked.

“Count on it,” Jason said. They stopped talking and turned toward the next room as the sound of two people yelling came closer.

“I told you someone pulled up, you blind fool,” the woman yelled.

“I stopped paying attention to you thirty years ago when you became a barnacle on my hull,” the man screamed. Two well-dressed people entered the room and finally turned to Jason and Lacy with smiles.

“Lacy,” Rita Becket said as she came forward, arms outstretched. She leaned in and applied an air kiss toward each cheek. “I was thrilled to receive your RSVP. Seeing you again is trays magnific.”

Robert’s father, Bob, took his turn with a hug and they turned speculatively to Jason. “Bob, Rita, this is my friend, Jason Cantor,” Lacy said.