Tea-Totally Dead (16 page)

And then she turned and ran, across the living room and up the stairs.

No one said anything until we heard a door slam upstairs. Then everyone seemed to come back to life.

Trent stepped over to Gail’s side and the two of them began to whisper. I caught the words “acute paranoia” from Trent and “completely out of touch with reality” from Gail and then Lori started up again.

“Wow!” she said in a tone that seemed to mix awe and something like admiration. “What a trip!”

I nodded absently. What had Harmony meant by all of that?

“What sign do you think Harmony is?” Lori asked me.

I shrugged, a long slow shrug borrowed from Wayne’s repertoire. I looked over my shoulder at him again. Ace was bent forward, telling him something. Something serious from the expression on both men’s faces.

“She’s a Scorpio, I’ll bet,” Lori answered herself happily. “Mama, what do you think?” she asked.

I brought my head back around. Ingrid had joined us.

“Poor, poor woman,” Ingrid whispered mournfully. Her eyes were still red, but at least she wasn’t sniffling. “I’ve tried to be friendly to her, but I guess I just don’t understand—”

“You know what, Aunt Ingrid?” Eric broke in.

Ingrid turned a kindly smile his way. It looked good on her face, better than the tears had.

Eric flowered under her gaze. “I’m learning all about poisons,” he told her eagerly. Eagerly and loudly. Ingrid’s smile crumpled. “You know, some dweebs think poisons are hard to get, but they’re all around us. Totally easy to scarf. Cleaning stuff and pesticides, even plants. They’re some totally awesome poisons right in the garden: foxgloves, deadly nightshade, oleander, Oriental poppies.” He bounced on his toes. “And medicine. It’s real easy to overdose on the stuff that the doctor gives you—”

The doorbell rang, cutting him off.

We all turned to the door as a group. Why didn’t anyone go to answer it? Wayne and Ace were just staring, as if the door were alive and would answer itself. I started toward it myself as the second peal rang out. But Harmony had come back down the stairs by then. She swept across the living room with her head held high, white legs flashing under Vesta’s black dress.

“Clara,” she said as she opened the door. “Come in and have something to eat, okay?” The words were right, but the voice wasn’t. It was too high in both pitch and volume.

“Okey-dokey,” Clara answered good-naturedly. “I’d like a little bite.”

Harmony led her to the coffee table with its latter-day spread. Clara picked up a rye cracker. I wondered if she had used the same reasoning as I had in making the choice. The crunch when she bit into the cracker was clearly audible in the otherwise silent room.

“Well, this is very nice, Harmony,” Clara told her. She patted her hand gently and added, “But I mustn’t keep you from your other guests.”

Harmony nodded, then drifted toward Ace and Wayne. It was a good choice.

“How’re you holding up, Harmony?” Ace asked in a voice that sounded genuinely concerned.

“Vesta always liked you,” Harmony whispered, loudly enough to be heard by everyone.

The whole room seemed to let out a breath that had been held too long, and conversations sprang up again.

“So it’s totally cool, Aunt Ingrid,” Eric said. “Grampy says I can’t use any specifics, but there’s like a zillion ways you can poison someone….”

“Kate,” Clara greeted me as she walked my way. “Can we talk?”

“Sure,” I answered enthusiastically, only too glad to get away from Eric, to get away from all the Skeritts.

I followed Clara upstairs. The red coroner’s seal was still on Vesta’s bedroom door. It gave me a queasy feeling to walk past it. And I felt even more queasy when we went into Harmony’s room to talk. The drawings of crystals and crosses had multiplied since I had last been in her bedroom. The walls, and even the furniture, were completely covered in newsprint now.

Clara lifted a pile of paper from the wooden chair and set it gently on the floor. I followed her lead and carefully moved some of the paper on the bed aside so I could sit on its edge.

“Harmony is in worse shape than I thought,” Clara murmured, getting right to the point. She looked down at the floor, her moon-shaped face wrinkling with worry. “The poor little thing may need hospitalization. Do you know if she has any relatives? Any friends?”

“I don’t know,” I said, hoping that Wayne and I weren’t the closest thing.

“She shouldn’t be alone,” Clara told me.

“Well, at least she isn’t talking so much about being abducted by UFO’s,” I said. Clara brought her eyes up to look into mine.

“You know, my dear,” she said softly, “Harmony’s claim of abduction isn’t all that unhealthy. It may be a way of making sense of whatever personal trouble she’s been through. Or perhaps she actually was abducted. It doesn’t really matter. It’s real to her. And it’s a fairly harmless fancy.” She looked down at the floor again. “But this obsession with Mrs. Caruso and her relatives scares me. Harmony showed me her stomach this morning. She’s carved a V into it. To let in Vesta’s spirit, she told me.”

“Uh-oh,” I breathed.

“I cleaned the wound and bandaged it,” Clara assured me. “It wasn’t very deep, but still.” She sighed. “The poor thing isn’t eating either. I think it may have been Mrs. Caruso who encouraged her to eat. One day won’t hurt her, but I have a feeling…”

Clara shook her head as her words trailed off. Then she stood abruptly and replaced the paper that had been on the chair.

“I just thought you ought to know,” she said briskly. She leaned down and patted my shoulder. “We’ll talk more later.”

As Clara and I walked back down the stairs together, I wondered what you had to do these days to get someone admitted to a mental institution. Harmony certainly seemed to be a danger to herself. But was she a danger to others?

As if in answer, the Skeritts were all heading out the doorway when we got to the living room. I heard Dru’s voice tinkling a last goodbye, and then the door slammed. Harmony sat in Vesta’s easy chair, her knees pulled up to her chest, her eyes vacant.

“Why don’t you and Wayne get going, dear?” Clara whispered in our ears. “I’ll take care of Harmony.”

I followed her advice and led Wayne out the door, only glancing back once. Clara was stroking Harmony’s frizzy blond hair.

“There, there,” she crooned. “You’ll be all right, my little one—”

I shut the door softly behind us. Unexpected tears sprang up in my eyes. I shook them away.

“What happened while I was upstairs?” I asked Wayne as we walked to the car.

He shrugged his shoulders. I looked into his eyes. He was staring again. Maybe he and Harmony could start a club.

We were getting into the Jaguar when Lori came running toward us, waving her arms in the air.

“Wait up, you guys!” she shouted. “Wait up!”

- Twelve -

Lori continued to wave her hands as she ran toward us, her red fingernails glinting in the sun.

“Hey, you guys!” she shouted, and then she was less than a yard away from the Jaguar. I could even hear her bracelets jangling.

I bumped my head as I jumped out of the car. But I barely noticed. My heart was beating too loudly.

“What’s wrong?” I demanded, suddenly afraid. “Has someone else been hurt? Has somebody died?”

“Died?” Lori repeated, dropping her arms. Her forehead was wrinkled in confusion for a moment before comprehension smoothed the wrinkles away.

Then she giggled. “Of course nobody died,” she said. “Dad and I just wanted to know if you’d like to go to lunch.”

Lunch? As the sound of my beating heart subsided, my head began to hurt where I had bumped it. What was with these people? Wasn’t Harmony’s party enough visiting for the day?

I felt Wayne’s presence behind me and turned to see him scowling over my head at Lori.

“Uncle Ace is taking Eric and Mandy to see the Bay Model in Sausalito,” Lori babbled on. “He says it’s a scale model of San Francisco Bay and the Sacramento-San Joaquin delta. A whole acre! And Aunt Dru wants to go into San Francisco with Bill and Gail to shop, so we thought we’d—”

“Lunch would be fine,” Wayne growled abruptly.

I swallowed a groan and turned back to Lori. She was frowning now too, as if she had just noticed Wayne’s black mood.

“I know you must be feeling really terrible about your mom,” she said, her voice subdued for a moment, but only a moment. It got loud again as she went on. “But you shouldn’t worry too much. I mean, I looked at her aura and it was this terrific orange, full of strength and adventure. Whatever incarnation she’s in now, I’ll bet she’s enjoying it more than we can even imagine.”

Wayne sighed. I snuck a quick peek over my shoulder. His eyes were shut, his hands clenched into fists by his sides. I had a feeling he was trying to keep from crying. Or maybe he was just trying to keep from throttling Lori.

“So where do you want to go to lunch?” she asked brightly.

“Mushrooms,” Wayne barked.

“Pardon?” said Lori, her eyes widening. Somehow, Wayne had made the word into an expletive.

“It’s a restaurant,” I explained hastily and gave her directions. Then I got into the Jaguar with Wayne and slammed the door.

Lori and her parents followed us to Mushrooms in their Volvo station wagon.

“Wow!” said Lori as soon as we walked in. “I love it.”

Mushrooms was located between two art galleries, in a windowless cavern that had been a welding shop a decade earlier. It didn’t look like a welding shop anymore, though. Backlit fish tanks had been set into the pale blue walls of the restaurant, casting an eerie, undulating glow over the room. The only other lights were the soft, rosy shell-shaped fixtures on the tables. Overall, the effect was that of being underwater. Taped background music, of whales singing, enhanced the illusion.

I had never quite understood what the decor had to do with mushrooms. But the food was good, much of it vegetarian, nearly all of it featuring the fungus in its many forms.

“This is so incredibly serene,” Lori went on as our eyes adjusted to the dim light. “All that wavy water. Water’s very healing, you know. And the whales are so meditative—”

“Five for lunch?” asked our host.

Wayne and I nodded simultaneously. Once we were seated, Lori continued.

“Dolphins and whales are leading the way to peace,” she told us. “There’s no mistaking their vibrations…”

I looked over the Mushrooms menu, glad that Lori was so chatty. It made up for Wayne’s silence. And for her parents’ silence, I thought. Trent was studying his menu in the soft light as if it were a legal document. Ingrid hadn’t even opened hers yet. She just stared at its cover.

“Oh, they’ve got teriyaki mushroom kebabs, Mama,” said Lori. “You’ll like those.”

“That sounds fine, dear,” Ingrid whispered absently. Then she seemed to remember that this was supposed to be a social occasion. “Wayne,” she said in a stronger voice. “Don’t you own a restaurant yourself?”

“Yes,” Wayne answered her. So much for conversation.

I turned to him, glaring at his scowling profile. He was the one who wanted to have lunch with these people. I assumed that was because he hoped to learn something about Vesta’s death by talking with them. But he wasn’t talking, goddammit.

He turned my way, as if he had heard the thought. His brows were low, but I could still see the pain in his eyes. Suddenly, I was ashamed. His mother was dead. How could I have forgotten the emotional reality of that fact?

“Wayne owns more than one restaurant,” I filled in for him, trying to put some enthusiasm into my voice. “And a couple of art galleries too.”

Trent nodded approvingly, setting down his menu. “Didn’t you take a law degree?” he asked Wayne.

“Yes,” Wayne answered.

“Wayne has a degree, but he’s never practiced law,” I expanded. I didn’t try to explain why. The Bay Area was filled with people with law degrees. If they all practiced, they’d probably end up with only each other for clients. “What about you, Trent?” I asked instead.

“I have an M.A. in education,” he answered with a smile that looked genuine. His face looked softer now, relaxed. “I was a placement counselor at Fulton College for many years and then the Dean of Students.”

“And now he’s the head dean,” Lori finished for him. She gave her father an affectionate wink. “Pretty impressive, huh?”

“Pretty impressive,” I agreed.

“Dad’s got a lot of personal juice,” Lori went on. “So does the whole family. Aunt Dru’s a high-powered comptroller now. And Uncle Ace owns a string of gyms.”

“I never thought Ace would go anywhere with his wrestling,” Trent admitted. He shook his head ruefully. “But he made a good income while he could, and then he invested it wisely. He’s a wealthy man now.”

“Mandy has a crush on him,” Lori said.

“On Ace?” asked Trent, his tone unbelieving.

Lori nodded.

Trent let out a rough bark of laughter.

“Oh, you mustn’t laugh, dear,” said Ingrid. “Mandy seems quite taken with Ace. And that poor boy, Eric, has a crush on Mandy.”