Sweet Christmas Kisses (48 page)

“Oh, shit.” Sally took a deep breath, then rallied. “But still . . .  so maybe that was stupid, but it wasn't murder.”

“Sure. But will the rainbow press believe a word?”

Sally looked at the paper in her hands. “No. They won't. What does Conran say?”

Joanna swallowed. Her throat hurt. “Conran believes I betrayed him to the press in exchange for a filthy amount of money.”

Sally's eyes widened. “Don't tell me YOU . . . ?”

“Of course not!” Joanna hugged herself. “But everybody believes that.” She lifted her face, desperate. “I have no idea who did it. Why does everybody think it was me?”

“Because . . . “ Sally folded the paper with a frown, “ . . . you're the only one who's been close enough to him here in Stony Brook.”

“How come you know that?” Joanna's voice was taut.

Sally looked up. “Everybody knows. It has been the only topic in Stony Brook in the last week.”

Joanna rolled her eyes. “I don't believe this. I haven't been out in public with him, I've just . . .”

“. . . kissed him every now and then,” Sally finished the sentence for her.

“You know that, too?” Joanna's eyes bulged.

“Of course.” Sally shook her head. “When you called me all in tears, I knew it had something to do with him. Darn men! They're all the same.”

Joanna suppressed a hiccup. If only those stupid tears would stop. “Conran isn't like . . . the others.”

“No?”

“No.”

“I see.” Sally smiled a bit. “Now tell me exactly what happened between you and him.”

Joanna took another sip of her hot chocolate. “There isn't much to tell. He came into the clinic like an angry bull while I was treating a canary, threw the newspaper onto the table, put a curse on me - or something that sounded very much like it, and ran out again, taking the canary with him.”

Sally's eyes grew round. “You mean he stole the canary? For revenge?”

“No. The canary followed him of its own will. It was a female, maybe that explains it.”

Sally shook her head. “I can't say I get that part about the canary, but why didn't you stop him and tell him he had gotten it all wrong?”

“He was gone before we could catch Lolita.”

“Who?”

“The canary.”

“You mean you took the time to chase a canary instead of trying to convince him it was all a mistake?”

“I did, yes.” Joanna glared at her friend. “It just happens that Lolita is a client, and I can't let my clients escape like that.” She sniffed. “The few that are left.”

“Well.” Sally hit her legs with the folded newspaper. “Let's forget the canary.” She frowned. “If you say you didn't sell that stuff to the newspaper, I believe you.”

“Thank you.” Joanna blew her nose again.

Sally straightened. “Now let's approach this thing in a structured and logical way.”

Joanna gave her a watery smile. “Yes, sir.”

“Could you have taken the picture of his kitchen?”

Joanna nodded. “Theoretically, yes. But I didn't.”

Sally made an impatient move with her arm. “I know that. Second, did you have access to those lyrics?”

Joanna nodded. “Yes.” She nodded at the low table. “They're over there. Conran showed me the lyrics yesterday. We were interrupted, and I put them in my pocket, and later forgot to return them.”

Sally snatched up the paper and read it. “Right. So far, every evidence points in your direction. I can't say I blame the guy.”

Joanna swallowed. “It wasn't me.”

“But if it wasn't you, then who was it?”

Joanna shrugged.

“Come on. It must have been someone close to him, or they would never have been in his house, let alone in a position to get their hands on the lyrics.”

“Mimi!” Joanna lifted her head.

“What? Who's Mimi?”

“His stepsister. I met her on Sunday. She's nice, but . . . he told me she'd been in some sort of financial trouble before.”

Sally shook her head. “You can't go and blame this stepsister without proof.”

Joanna sat up. “Hand me that paper, please.”

Sally gave it to her.

Joanna unfolded it and studied the pictures with a frown. Then she held out her hand without looking up. “Pass me the lyrics, please.”

“Yes, doctor.” Sally handed them over and sat on the sofa next to Joanna.

Joanna bent closer over the print to compare the texts. The acrid smell of black newspaper print mingled with Sally's fresh perfume. “This isn't a picture of the lyrics I have!” Joanna pointed at the bold stroke of a W on the lyrics in her hand. “Look here. The one in the the newspaper is much more slanted.”

“But it's the same handwriting.” Sally frowned.

“He told me he wrote the lyrics twice.” Joanna lifted her head, excitement tingling through her like a warm fire. “Dimitri gobbled up the first version.”

Sally looked surprised. “For lunch?”

“No, silly. As an early-morning snack.” With a grin, Joanna reverted to the paper. “Look at this!” She pointed at the word “How”. “Do you see how different it is? In the newspaper version, he uses about half the space for the w because he wrote it with a strong slant to the right.”

Sally took a deep breath. “So either this picture was taken before Dimitri swallowed the first version . . . “

“ . . . or Dimitri didn't eat it at all and Mimi stole the lyrics.” Joanna finished. As the thought sank in, she shook her head. “I can't believe that Mimi would do such a thing to Conran.”

“It's not as if you had loads of other suspects littering the scene.” Sally's voice was dry. “Look at the kitchen. Does that ring a bell with you? Is it possible that the picture was taken from the outside?”

Joanna bent over the paper again. “No. If you look through the window, you don't see the fridge from that angle. Impossible.”

“So it was an inside job.”

“Yes.” Joanna felt sick. “But I still can't believe that Mimi would do that. She knows how much he abhors the press and the way they probe into his privacy.”

Sally put her head to one side. “Does she need money?”

Joanna shrugged. “Who doesn't? Conran said she was in trouble before, but it seems they've sorted it out.”

“Have they really?” Sally flicked her finger against the paper. “Look here, it shows a breakfast table. Those pictures were taken in the mornings.”

Joanna stared at the colorful box of cereal, at the way the mugs were standing on the table. Her jaw dropped. “I was there.”

“What?” Sally jumped up. “You're kidding.”

“I saw her. She looked as if she had just woken up, but she must have used the time while he was taking a shower to take those pictures.”

“Are you sure?”

Joanna didn't look up from the newspaper. “I saw that box of cereal, and I saw the position of the mugs. She must have taken the pictures a minute or two before I came.”

Sally shook her head. “You went to Conran Dark's house early in the morning and watched his sister through the kitchen window? Please tell me you're kidding!”

Joanna sighed. “I didn't intend to watch them. It just happened. But I didn't know Mimi at the time, so I . . . “ she broke off.

“So you did what?” Sally narrowed her eyes.

“Oh, well, if you want to know, I burst into tears and drove home.”

“Because you thought she was his lover, not his sister.”

“Yep.”

“You're an idiot, Jo.”

“Thanks for the flowers.”

Sally shook her head. “I mean it. Anybody could tell he only had eyes for you.”

“Ha. And when were you anywhere close enough to see that?”

Sally smiled. “I have my sources.”

Joanna shook her head. “I'll never understand where you manage to pick up all that faulty information.” She turned back to the pictures. “Sally.”

“Hmm?”

“I believe I have to talk to Mimi.”

“That's the first sensible sentence I heard you say today. When will you go?”

“Now.”

Joanna drove to Conran's house feeling cold and alone. The clouds hung low and threatening with a yellowish gleam. It would soon snow again. Joanna dreaded the conversation with Mimi, but even more than that, she dreaded to greet Conran at the door. Why had she never asked Mimi for her cell phone number? Then she could simply have called her and could have arranged a meeting. Instead, she had to go into the lion's den. Drat it all.

Her hands felt cold as she got out of the Jeep and went to his door. Something deep inside her trembled with anxiety. She pressed the bell and held her breath.

Mimi opened the door and smiled. “Joanna! How nice. Come right in.” She opened the door wide.

Joanna followed her inside. Thank God it was warm.

“Shall we go to the living room? I've just lit a fire.” Mimi preceded her down the hall.

“Is Conran in?” Joanna cleared her throat.

“No, I'm sorry.” Mimi turned around. “He left earlier to do some serious shopping and told me I shouldn't expect him until later. I was just starting to be bored, all by myself.”

“I see.” So she hadn't heard anything yet.
Thank God.

Joanna followed Mimi to the room and sat on the sofa where she had slept only a few days ago. It felt like weeks. She folded her hands and pressed them together until the knuckles showed white, then bent forward to warm herself at the fire.

“Is everything all right?” Mimi watched her with a worried frown. “You seem . . . different.”

Joanna took the folded newspaper from her pocket and gave it to Mimi. “Read this, please.”

Mimi took the paper with a puzzled look. She sank onto the sofa and started to read. Then she looked up, her mouth one firm line. “Why do you show this to me?”

She's not surprised.
“Conran saw the article this morning. He came to the clinic, accused me of selling those pictures and the lyrics to the press, and stormed out again. He said he never wanted to see me again.”

Mimi's hand crept to her cheek. “Oh, no.”

Joanna looked at her. “Why did you do it?”

Mimi drew herself up. “How come you think I did it? Why should I . . . ?”

“I saw you.” Joanna felt tired.

“You saw me?” Mimi shook her head. “That's impossible.”

“No.” Joanna pointed at the mug and the box of cereal. “You see, I was here at the time and happened to glance through the window.”

Mimi flung the paper onto the sofa and jumped up. “I don't believe this! Why were you snooping around the house first thing in the morning?”

“I wanted to surprise Conran, but when I saw you together, I decided it wasn't a good idea, and so I left again.”

“Ha.” Mimi folded her arms in front of her chest. “And I'm supposed to believe that?” No chance.”

Joanna bit her lip. “Mimi, I don't want to do this, but Conran . . . Conran believes it was me. He feels cheated and thinks I sold everything he ever entrusted to me. Don't you see? He'll never talk to me again.” To her dismay, she felt tears pooling hot in her eyes.

Mimi's chest heaved. “Do you think he'll ever talk to ME again if he learns that I did it?”

“Why did you?”

Mimi glared at her. “That's none of your business!”

“You're right.” Joanna got up. “It isn't. But could you . . . could you please tell him that it wasn't me? He'll never believe it, coming from me.”

“He won't believe me, either.” Mimi's mouth was one thin line.

“He will, if you tell him you did it.”

Mimi stamped her foot. “I keep telling you; I won't do it!”

Joanna remembered how she had felt the night of her accident. Bone-tired. Then, it had been physical. Now, it was a different kind of tiredness, but it went just as deep. “Then I have nothing else to say. Bye, Mimi.” She walked past the speechless girl with slow steps. As she passed her, she gave her a long look, but Mimi was returning her look with a set face and balled fists. “Bye.”

III

“What?” Sally paced up and down in front of Joanna's wood stove. “She admitted she did it but refused to tell Conran? How mean is that?”

“She didn't admit it in so many words, but she didn't deny it either.” Joanna dropped onto the sofa with a sigh.

“Are you sure it was Mimi?”

“Yes, now that I've talked to her, I know.” Joanna pulled up her legs and dropped her head onto her knees. “She wasn't surprised, you see. Just defensive.”

“So tell him.” Sally stopped in front of the sofa and stared at her friend, hands on her hips. “Tell him it was Mimi.”

Joanna lifted her head. “I'm not going to do anything of the kind.”

“Pah. She doesn't deserve you to protect her.”

“She doesn't deserve me to betray her.”

Sally snorted. “Fine words. Will you risk the man of your life because of a weak girl who has no idea what's right or wrong?”

Joanna shook her head. “It's not only that. I think Conran shouldn't have blamed me without even thinking about it. He should have known I wouldn't do such a thing. If he believes that I would do it, he would not believe me if I started to blame Mimi, either. On the contrary, it would fill him with disgust.”

Sally rolled her eyes. “How long have you known each other?”

“Seven and a half days.”

“Seven days.” Sally resumed her agitated walking. “And after seven days, you believe he knows you inside out. Aren't you expecting a bit too much of the poor guy?”

Again, Joanna shook her head. “No. We were so close . . . I . . . . I've never felt like this before, Sally.”

Her best friend sighed. “Right. But now, he believes you betrayed him, and Mimi is unwilling to talk, so what are you going to do?”

Joanna shrugged, numb. “I don't know.”

“But I do know.” Sally bent forward and took both her hands. “At least tell him it wasn't you.”

“He won't believe me. He only knows few people here, and he trusts his family, so of course, he thinks it must have been me.”

“But you have proof! You can make him compare the two lyrics.”

“I want him to believe me without having to show him proofs! What kind of love is that, if you think the worst of the person you love and jump to conclusions at the slightest provocation?”

“I wouldn't call it a slight provocation.” Sally's voice was dry.

“If only I didn't like Mimi.” Joanna looked at her hands without seeing them.