The Cluttered Corpse (17 page)

“I hate fancy restaurants. Do I have to get changed?”

“It's a pretty laid-back spot, but I think the shorts and Hawaiian shirts will stick out. Move up a notch. I'll give you the tiramisu earlier if you promise to wear socks.”

Jack reached for the dessert. “Do I have to go alone?”

“Of course not. You're undercover. You need a date.”

“Who?”

“Let's see now, he'd recognize Lilith.”

“Margaret?”

“I told him about Margaret in the hope that she'd represent Emmy Lou. He might make the connection. She was all over the news last fall.”

Jack's face lit up. “I got it! Sally. She's even nosier than you are. She'll love snooping and coming up with weird and intrusive theories about who, what, when, where, why. I won't have anything to do but drive and eat.”

“You're a genius, Jack. Have I mentioned that? Take my dessert too.”

If Sally hadn't been so close to her due date, she might have done backflips at the idea of spying on Dwayne Rheinbeck and his lady in red at Wet Paint.

“I love it!” she gushed. “Only one itty-bitty problem.”

“Which is?”

“Benjamin's giving a talk to the blah-blah-blah society tonight.”

“Not it's real name, I suppose. Don't worry about that. I'll bring the dogs over, and I'll put the kids to bed and then watch television until you get home.”

Perhaps she hadn't heard me. She said, “I could ask Lilith. She gave me those babysitting coupons at the shower.”

“Nope. You're doing
me
a favor. I'll do the babysitting. You save Lilith for when you need a break. I might bring along my mudroom project. Should be fun.”

“You think you'll get work done while you're babysitting the kids? That's so cute.”

“Don't be silly, Sally. I love your kids. I'll bring a play kit with music and crafts and stories. Maybe some bath toys. You won't have to worry about a thing.”

“And I don't plan to. It's so nice not to be neurotic.”

“So I've heard. See you at seven. You're a true friend.”

Sally and Jack tore off in Sally's black Jeep Cherokee. Jack doesn't believe in SUVs, but all bets are off when it comes to Sally. Jack thinks the world of her. Plus no way would Sally be able to bend into and out of Jack's vintage Mini Minor. I'd equipped them with an excellent description of the lady in red and of Dwayne too. Sally hadn't met him, and Jack, well, what can I say? Speaking of Jack, he looked almost respectable in his clean chinos and striped shirt, not tucked in of course. He must have thought the task was important. And as far as I could tell he was wearing socks under his shoes. But no one would be looking at Jack, even though he's kind of cute. All eyes would be on Sally. She was too fabulous in a sleeveless black dress, remarkably flexible to accommodate the bump. Her blonde corkscrew curls seemed even more impossibly glamorous than usual. She had a cluster of wide bangles up her arms and had found the most elegant dangling earrings and flat metallic sandals. I did my bit by applying polish to her toes, as Sally claimed not to have seen her feet for two months.

She whispered, “There's life in the old girl yet.”

We waved as they left. The kids seemed overjoyed. Until the SUV rounded the corner and vanished from view that is. One by one, their eyes grew rounder. Their mouths grew rounder too. I'm not sure what came first, the gush of tears or the ear-splitting howls. Dallas, Madison, and Savannah had truly great lungs. Truffle and Sweet Marie had been little angels up until this point. Something about the wailing children brought out the devil dog in them.

The sharp sounds of barking did nothing to stop the crying. The kids have always loved the dogs, and the wieners have more or less tolerated the kids. But this was war. The screaming escalated into hysterical sobs. I picked up baby Savannah. She shuddered and shook and struggled against me. With my “free” hand I snagged Truffle and tucked him under the other arm, headed toward the back. In a second, I had deposited him in the main-floor powder room. The door muffled the barking. Sweet Marie took refuge under Sally's white leather sofa. The sofa did not muffle the barking.

Half an hour later, my single accomplishment had been to get Sweet Marie into the holding tank with Truffle. They'd make me pay in the future, I knew, but sometimes you have to look after number one, two, three, and four.

I had sung all the songs I knew. I had tried all the kids' games I brought with me. The books had already been flung against the wall, the crayons were strewn on the carpet. I had rocked, cuddled, hummed. I'd tried healthy treats, switched to ice cream, briefly considered brandies all round.

Nothing, nothing, nothing worked. Nothing. On the rare occasions when I'm watching Sally's kids, I get Jack to come with me. He plays a great game of giddyap. But Jack was on the spy mission with Sally, and I was in way over my head.

At seven thirty I caved and called Lilith. “I know you're busy, but this is a disaster.”

“Whoa. What's that noise in the background? Are you at a riot or something?”

“You might say that. I'm babysitting at Sally's.”

“Explains it.”

“But can you save me?” I said. “I'm down on my knees. I'll crawl over broken glass.”

“Reinforcements on the way.”

The kids stopped in mid howl as Lilith walked through the door. Maybe it was her turquoise spiky hair. Of course, it could have been the piercings. Then again, she was toting a plate of what smelled like Toll House cookies, the universal comfort food. Could have been that. The children, shuddering and sniffing, stared. Then baby Savannah reached out for Lilith. Dallas and Madison clustered around asking what was on the plate.

“Thank Rose too,” I said.

Lilith settled everyone in minutes. And I couldn't figure out how she did it. She had the touch. Even I calmed down. A quarter of an hour later, all three rug rats were deep in sleep on the sofa. I carried the sleeping children upstairs, one by one, worrying with every creak of the stairs that a child would wake up, setting off a domino effect. Savannah's eyelids fluttered, but she snuggled into her crib, thumb in her rosebud mouth. Madison and Dallas squirmed a bit as they were tucked into their beds, but that was it. I watched their sleeping faces, still streaked with tears, for a moment and was thankful for the miracle of sleep. When I came downstairs, the dogs had been released from captivity and were curled up on the sofa with Lilith. Lucky, they hadn't chosen that night to play Where's Charlotte?

“I think we should have brushed their teeth and washed their faces, but I was afraid of what that would trigger. I'll let Sally handle it.”

I stared around at the remnants of my babysitting kit. Who had I been kidding? I'd always been a lousy babysitter. Jack was a natural, Lilith was a natural. I was a natural disaster.

“So.” Lilith chuckled as she handed me a Toll House cookie. “How's this biological clock I hear so much about?”

“Let's say, my alarm just went off.”

The evening out had obviously been good for Sally. She was glowing and relaxed when she and Jack returned from their mission. “Are the kids all right?”

“Sleeping like angels. As are the dogs.” I was relaxing in the chair giving the impression of being in charge. Lilith departed once order had been restored. She'd left the rest of the Toll House cookies, and they had been keeping me company.

Truffle had wakened long enough to give Jack a big kiss, but was already curling up on the best chair.

“Wonderful. You want to hear about the spy mission?”

“Are you kidding?”

Sally laughed. “You were right. There is definitely something going on with that Dwayne and the singer, unless you want to call her a piano player.”

“She's a piano player too?”

“She was playing jazz piano and singing kind of updated jazz stuff.”

Jack said, “‘Popsicle Toes'. Diana Krall kind of stuff. She was pretty good. Sally thinks something is going on between her and Dwayne, but I didn't notice it.”

“What do you ever notice?” Sally said, rolling her eyes.

“Lots of stuff.”

“Brakes? Handlebars? Cycling shoes?”

“Boys and girls!” I said. “Back to the point of the exercise.”

Sally slid onto the sofa. “You sure did some cleaning up, Charlotte.”

“It was nothing,” I said.

In fact, Lilith had insisted on helping me to get the crayons out of the carpet and pack up the rest of the disaster. She'd even run the vacuum cleaner. I owed her big-time. Not the first occasion when I'd been in her debt either.

“The place looks a lot better than when we left.”

“Stop teasing, Sally. Tell me what you saw.”

Sally stretched like a cat. “You were absolutely right, Charlotte. This guy seems to be besotted with that girl, whether she's a singer or piano player. And even if Jack is useless as an observer, I'm not. This girl's way, way, way too young for him.”

Jack said, “She didn't look that young to me.”

“Pu-leeze,” Sally said.

“I did see her,” I said. “I thought early twenties. Anyway, it doesn't matter how old she is. He's married to Emmy Lou. He shouldn't be…”

Sally's mind was made up. “That didn't stop him from putting his paws all over this chickie.”

I turned to grill the second witness. “Did he put his paws all over her, Jack?”

“He gave her a couple of hugs. They seemed harmless to me. Affectionate.”

“Sleazy,” Sally said. “Gave me the willies.”

Jack sat up straight and stared at her. “No. He seemed friendly and sort of supportive. Something seemed to be bothering the girl and he was cheering her up. Like a friend or an uncle. That's my opinion, Charlotte.”

Sally snorted. “Some uncle. If ever a man had sex on his mind, he did. This is a very beautiful girl.”

I piped up. “That's what I don't get. Emmy Lou's beautiful too. She's very appealing, and Dwayne gave the impression of being crazy about her.”

Sally said, “Didn't look that way to me. This guy's wife is heading for either life in prison or a one-way ticket to a psych ward, so he gets to play around with the staff. That is so vile.”

Even though I'd suspected it and sent out the two spies, I suppose part of me had been hoping I was wrong. “What do you mean by ‘play around'? Did they leave together?”

“Not exactly,” Sally said.

“Not at all,” Jack added. “She left after her second set. Said good-bye to the other people there. He gave her a hug. He stayed. She went home or wherever.”

I said, “I guess the jury's still out then.”

Sally gave it her best sneer. “This jury convicted him.”

“Guillotine at dawn,” Jack said. “But I'm not so sure. I hug you guys sometimes. That doesn't make me sleazy.”

“That's different,” Sally snapped. “We've been friends since we first went to school for heaven's sake.”

“Maybe they've been friends too. You can't jump to conclusions.”

“Big age difference for friends,” I said.

Sally said, “I can so jump to conclusions. I do it all the time and I'm always right.”

There was some truth to all of those assertions. Sally made up her mind instantly and there was no changing it. And she was usually, if not always, right.

“I give up. But Charlotte, you might be happy to know that we have the singer's name if that helps in any way. He introduced her before each set.” Jack handed me a cocktail napkin with a name written on it.

Bryony Stevens.

I said, “Looks like you're not so useless after all, Jack.”

“He's quite the little detective,” Sally added.

“I'm not little,” Jack said. “But I did find out something from talking to the bartender.”

“Wait until you hear this,” Sally said. “You might not be pleased, but at least it will clear something up for you.”

I sighed. “Couldn't one of you say what it was, rather than—”

“Dwayne had an alibi,” Sally chirped.

“For the entire afternoon,” Jack said. “I got in a conversation about bikes with the guy behind the bar and in the course of it, I asked him about the stuff that happened with Emmy Lou and Tony. It came out that Dwayne was in the restaurant all day. Never left until you showed up, Charlotte, because they were short of staff, they had some kind of disaster in the kitchen, and they had a full house at lunch. Anyway, until some chick showed up at around five, he was in full view of everyone, helping out with the cooking.”

“Oh. But that's one person. Why are you shaking your head, Sal?”

“We talked to our server too. Apparently Dwayne was there. All day. Until you arrived, wearing your espadrilles, according to our server who was female and knows such words.”