Set the Stage for Murder (13 page)

“
Victoria, dear, what’s still to be done before everyone arrives?” Phoebe asked, still smiling.

Vicki got up from the table and crossed the room to look at Marc’s planning calendar. “Well, Ethan is working on the flowers and Marc assures me tonight’s dinner is under control. Kim and Marie arrived early this morning and have prepared all the guest rooms.” She turned back and faced her mother-in-law. “Maybe you can do a walk-through with me? I always seem to overlook something.”

“
I’d be delighted, although I’m sure everything is perfect.” She got up from the table and followed Vicki through the kitchen door into the large dining room, which was lined on one side by French doors that opened out onto the wraparound porch. “Victoria, this dining room is just stunning since you had it repainted” Phoebe said, as she took in the room appreciatively. “It’s such a rich, velvety brown. It looks wonderful next to the white molding.”

“
Thank you, Phoebe, we love it, too.” Vicki beamed at the compliment, knowing that if her mother-in-law hadn’t found the room pleasing she would have just remained silent. “Ethan is going to use the deep pink roses and Irish Belles in here. I think they’ll be perfect.”

“
Absolutely. That young man has a good eye. Tell me, what are the sleeping arrangements for the weekend?”

“
Well,” Vicki said as she led the way into the yellow living room, “Harold, Billy, the Cortez family, and Tony and Caroline will stay in the main house. We’re putting Roz, Meg, and Juliet in the guest house.”

“
Keeping her out of the fray, so to speak?” Phoebe asked with a smile.

“
Something like that,” admitted Vicki. “I thought she might be more comfortable away from . . . ” She stopped, unsure how to put it.

“
Away from those she’s wronged?” Phoebe finished, running her hand along the back of a pale green, silk damask covered sofa.

“
Yes, I suppose that’s it,” Vicki said. She took a seat in one of the pastel yellow, green, and pink striped chairs next to the fireplace and looked into the hearth. “I had Ethan prepare the fireplace. The nights have been unseasonably cool and I thought a fire might be nice. What do you think?”

“
I think a fire would be lovely.” She sat in the opposite, identically upholstered chair and quietly assessed her daughter-in-law. “Victoria, what is bothering you? Except for our brief escapade with Marc and Vincent in the kitchen, you’ve been very reserved today.”

Vicki leaned her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes. “I’m worried, Phoebe. I have a bad feeling about all this.”

“
About our plan, you mean?” Phoebe asked, suddenly concerned that she’d overburdened Vicki by adding her investigation scheme to everything else that was going on this weekend.

Vicki shook her head. “No, I actually think your plan is a good idea.” She got up, crossed to the window, and gazed out over the lawn to the wooded area beyond. “I think we need to take some sort of action because I’m worried that something … oh I don’t know Phoebe, it’s just going to sound stupid if I say it out loud, but I’m afraid something … evil is going to happen.” She turned and faced the other woman. “I know it sounds silly, Phoebe, but I just can’t shake this feeling.” She walked to the fireplace and absentmindedly fiddled with one of the ceramic Chinese dogs that flanked either end of the mantle. She and Teddy had picked them up in an antique store in Paris because they had reminded the couple of Clementine. “And honestly, I’m worried about Teddy. I’m afraid that this production isn’t going to happen.” She put the ceramic dog back down and looked at Phoebe. “Go ahead and say it. You think I’m being foolish, don’t you?”

As she had been listening to Vicki’s concerns, Phoebe’s gaze had drifted to the fireplace and to the logs that Ethan had laid on the grate, so precisely. Suddenly, on this sunny August afternoon, she shivered and wished a fire had already been lit. “Actually, my dear,” she said, looking back up at the younger woman, “I’m afraid I don’t think you’re being foolish at all. Victoria, we need to proceed with caution.”

Chapter 12

Juliet gripped her seat with such force that she feared she would tear through the leather upholstery in her stepmother’s Jaguar. Caroline was attacking the Taconic Parkway as if it were a Grand Prix course, taking the never-ending twists and turns at breakneck speeds.
Dear God
, thought Juliet as her stomach lurched,
where are the state troopers when you need them
? She glanced back at her father, who had chosen the seat directly behind his wife and plastered himself against the door.
He’s sitting so that she can’t see him in the rearview mirror
, thought Juliet as she wished that she could have driven up with Roz and Meg. But then again, Roz had been the one to suggest that she ride with her father and Caroline. Juliet had added that suggestion to the list of things she found odd and confusing at the moment.

“Goddamnit, Cary,” Tony exclaimed. “You’re going to kill us all! Would you please slow down?”

Dame Caroline looked into the rearview mirror, adjusted it so that she could glare at her husband, and pressed down on the accelerator. Sir Anthony turned his head to look out the window in order to avoid making eye contact with her. As he watched the New York countryside go by in a green blur he wished to God that he had taken a drink before getting in the car, or better yet, brought a bottle with him. Cary was still making his life miserable because of the Roz thing. He could just imagine what this weekend would be like when they were all together. He knew his wife well enough to realize that she wasn’t through getting back at him, or at Roz either, for that matter. He also knew that her next move would be lethal and would arrive when least expected. The thought of it scared him silly. And on top of everything, he was embarrassed because Juliet had to witness all of this. Naturally she had seen him fight with Cary before, but this was different. And it involved Roz. He wondered what was going on in his daughter’s head.

Caroline slowly let up on the gas and allowed the Jag to decelerate to a safer speed. She had been planning to all along, but certainly not when Tony told her to do so. No, it would be in her own time and on her own terms, just like everything else. She had to make Tony realize that he must never make a fool of her again, especially not with that bloody bitch of a first wife. Why in the world had she let this happen? Why had she permitted him to do this damn play?

Oh, it was all Juliet’s doing, really. She had so wanted Tony to do the project with her, and Caroline wasn’t heartless, so she gave her permission. After all, she liked Juliet. She really did. She had never been able to understand how a child with a mother like that had turned out so sweet and normal. And then to be raised by that other bloody bitch, Meg Pierce! It was good thing that Juliet had Tony and Caroline in her life for a dose of sanity, she thought as she looked in the rearview mirror and floored the car, just as her husband had started to calm down.
Don’t even consider relaxing, old boy,
she thought.
Don’t even think about it!

Juliet studied her stepmother, confident that she wouldn’t get caught doing so. No, the other two people in the car with her were preoccupied with each other, for the time being. Well, if she were being truthful, they were like that most of the time. Her father and Dame Caroline were either fighting or thinking about fighting or, heaven help her, making up after fighting. So went the relationship of Britain’s leading couple of the stage, just as it had gone ever since Juliet could remember. Except this time something felt different and as she looked at Caroline, she realized what it was; her stepmother seemed to be, for lack of a better word, demented. That item in the paper must have really thrown her. Juliet had no idea what was going on with her parents, but whatever it was had shaken
The Great Dame
to her core.

Normally, Caroline was fastidious about her appearance, understanding that a woman who wasn’t blessed with great beauty has other tools at her disposal that can draw attention away from her shortcomings. Cary’s stock in trade had always been her grooming. She wore simple, tailored clothes, which worked well on her larger frame, and kept her expertly colored hair arranged in a way that almost made her look feminine. And her hands, while large for a woman, were always immaculately manicured. Today, however, she was an absolute mess. Although she was dressed well, she had clearly skipped a hair appointment, if the gray roots were any indication. And instead of arranging her hair as she usually did, she had attempted to pull it back and put it into a clip at the nape of her neck, except it wasn’t quite long enough and several tendrils had escaped. Her normally perfect hands were marred by the presence of a clumsily applied gauze bandage. As Juliet looked at the dressing, a small red spot appeared and grew. Caroline’s death grip on the steering wheel must have caused the unmentioned wound to reopen. Yes, it appeared to Juliet that her stepmother was literally coming apart at the seams.

since the note and the bouquet, but Juliet could see the toll the threats had taken on her. Meg was playing her usual part and attempting to keep everyone happy and safe, but Juliet could tell by her behavior that something was wrong, something bad. Is it Connor? Could she really hate him that much? What had he ever done to her? And Connor. Juliet felt as if
Coming apart at the seams
. Funny how that phrase and others like it had danced into Juliet’s mind so often, recently. They so aptly described much of what was happening around her and to her. Roz was bravely trying to hold it together
she
were falling apart when she thought of him and how he was suddenly and inexplicably distancing himself from her. She didn’t understand. Maybe they could talk this weekend at Lenore’s Folly. Maybe he could explain everything and her heart would stop feeling as if
it
were coming apart at the seams. And finally, this play, this project that she once thought was the answer to her prayers, was starting to seem like a mirage. At times it loomed in front of her invitingly, promising everything she desired. But there were other times when, no matter how hard she looked, she just couldn’t see it at all.

***

Sally tried not to panic when she realized that the pill bottle had opened and the tiny tablets were scattered throughout the bottom of her oversized Prada handbag. She sat on the edge of the bed in a guestroom at Lenore’s Folly and dumped the contents of her purse out on the shell pink matlasse coverlet.
Great
, she thought,
how the hell am I supposed to find a little pink pill on a pink bedspread
? She had returned the larger items to her bag and was in the middle of picking up the tablets and putting them in the vial when Ed and the butler came in with the suitcases.

“
Lose something, my sweet?” Ed asked with a smirk. “Perhaps Vincent here can help you.”

“
I don’t need any help,” she snapped, shoving the pill bottle under the pillow. “I’m fine.”

Ed was like a dog with a bone. “Did you lose a contact, Babe? If so, you know you’re blind as a bat without them. Why not let Vincent help you search?”

“
I said I’m fine. Oh look,” she said, as she picked up an imaginary contact lens, turned her back to the two men and feigned putting it in her eye. She turned around and flashed them her best red carpet smile. “All better, see?”

“Great,” Ed said. “Maybe now you’ll be able to pick up all those little pink pills that are spread all over the bed.”

Vincent could see that although the smile was frozen on Sally Crandall’s face the look in her eyes had changed to one that was anything but pleasant. In fact the old phrase “if looks could kill … “ came to mind.
Great,
he thought,
this investigation is already paying off
. Because as Vincent had learned in his previous job, someone who harbors the sort of hate he just glimpsed in Sally Crandall is capable of doing just about anything. “Is there something else I can do for the two of you?” he asked in a most proper fashion.

“What?” Ed asked, tearing his gaze from his wife’s and focusing on Vincent. “Oh … no, I think that’s it. Right Sal?”

Sally had regained her composure and donned a charming demeanor, perhaps partially because of the two pills Vincent had seen her pick up from the bed and pop in her mouth, when she thought they weren’t looking. Granted, it was too soon for her to feel the actual effects of the drug, but Vincent knew that just the knowledge that relief was on the way could soothe an addict.

“No, thank you so much. We’re fine.” She smiled and crossed to the window, apparently leaving the retrieval of the little pink tablets for later.

“Let me know if I can be of service,” Vincent said, and with a small bow, he exited.

Sally turned and faced her husband. “When did you become such a heartless bastard?” she asked with tears in her eyes. “Why did you do that?”

Ed sighed, sat in one of the wing-backed chairs by the fireplace, and rubbed his temples. “You mean why did I mention the pills? After not saying a goddamned thing for twenty years, why did I mention the pills that have almost destroyed you? He sighed again and leaned his head back. “I don’t know Sal, except … except me not saying anything all these years hasn’t done any of us any good. Not you, not me and not Connor.”

Sally let out a small gasp and put her hand to her throat. “How dare you,” she muttered. “How dare you blame me for how things have gone with this family?” Her voice had risen to a yell. “Did you ever consider what it has been like for me, knowing you were sleeping with every woman who crossed your path? Did you ever think about why I take these pills?”