Woman in Red (26 page)

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Authors: Eileen Goudge

BOOK: Woman in Red
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She laughed and shook her head. “God, I can’t believe you remember that far back.”
“I remember a lot of things.” He held her gaze a beat longer than necessary, giving Alice a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Eager to get off this subject, she grabbed his elbow, saying, “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.” She showed him to the buffet table, where Jeremy was already helping himself to a plate of food.
“It doesn’t seem to have affected his appetite, at least,” Randy murmured. He and Alice exchanged a smile, that of parents enjoying a small reprieve from their shared worry over their son. If she’d harbored any bitterness toward her ex-husband, it was gone. Randy had been a rock throughout this latest ordeal, calling often to strategize about Jeremy’s case, his solid presence the other day in court keeping her on an even keel. She didn’t know how she’d have managed without him.
Jeremy, on the other hand, seemed to be coping well enough. He’d lost that pale, shell-shocked look, she noted, watching him with his cousin Ryan, the two of them chatting as they shoveled food into their mouths. She couldn’t tell whether or not he was having fun, but at least he wasn’t hiding in a corner.
A short while later, as she was wandering over to the buffet table to have a word with Patsy Rowland, she ran into Jeremy, on his way back for seconds. For a moment he just stood there, looking ill at ease, holding his plate awkwardly in one hand. Finally, summoning his manners, he said, “Food’s good. Especially that crab thing, with the mushrooms.”
“Thanks. I’m glad you like it.”
“You do all the cooking?”
“Your grandma did some.” Alice had made the curried chicken salad and mushroom-crab strata, the garlic roasted string beans and creamed escarole; Lucy had supplied her signature Coca-Cola ham and candied sweet potatoes. She leaned in to confide, “Though between you and me I’m not quite sure how I’m going to manage when I’m on my own.” She’d hired the daughter of one of Denise’s teacher friends to wait tables and a kid from down the road to wash dishes, but other than that it looked as if she’d be flying solo, at least until Calpernia arrived. “If you know of anyone who’s looking for something part-time, I could use an extra hand in the kitchen. The pay isn’t much, but meals are included.”
“I might know of someone,” he said.
“Great. Tell whoever it is to give me a call.”
“Actually, I was thinking I could use the extra hours myself.” He was regarding her in a way that made her think of Colin McGinty’s skittish dog: shy and hopeful at the same time.
Alice was so astonished, it was a moment before she could respond. “What about Mister Barbour?”
Jeremy shrugged, and looked away. “He cut back on my hours. The season’s kind of winding down, so he doesn’t need me as much anymore.”
“Well, in that case, of course I’d love to have you work for me.” She tried to keep the enthusiasm from her voice, not wanting to overwhelm him. “How soon can you start?”
“I have this thing tomorrow after school, but I’m free the rest of the week.”
“How about Tuesday then?” He nodded, and she said with more feeling, “Thanks, Jeremy. This will be a real help.”
“Yeah, well, I just thought . . .” Color bloomed in his pale cheeks. “You know, since you’re helping out with Mister McGinty and all, that I should do my part. I’ll even work for free, if you don’t have the money to pay me.”
Alice’s throat grew tight. “If anyone deserves to be thanked, it’s him.” Colin had refused any payment, saying he would agree to handle the case only on a strictly
pro bono
basis. “As for your working for free, I wouldn’t dream of it.” She placed a hand lightly on his arm. “You don’t owe me a thing.”
She scanned the crowd in search of Colin and spotted him talking to Gary. He’d donned a sports coat and tie for the occasion, which made him stand out amid the other, more dressed-down guests. But he would have stood out regardless. There was something about him that drew the eye, an intensity that showed, not in the restless energy of someone like Denise, but in the quiet assuredness he brought to everything he did.
She’d seen it the other day in the courtroom, when he’d stood up to address the bench. “Your Honor, my client is a
sixteen-year-old boy, with no history of juvenile delinquency or school misconduct,” he’d argued, after the judge had refused his request to have the case remanded to juvenile court. “He’s an ordinary teenager engaging in age-appropriate activities. He went to a party, he met a girl, they engaged in consensual sex. I see no reason this should even go to trial, much less that he be tried as an adult.”
The district attorney, a wiry man with brushy, graying hair who couldn’t sit for long without twitching in his seat like someone with a bad case of hemorrhoids, had sprung to his feet to interject sarcastically, “Where you come from, Mister McGinty, a rape charge might be commonplace, but around here we take such things pretty seriously.” Earlier, Alice had seen him dart a nervous look at one of his colleagues when the judge had granted Colin permission to practice in this jurisdiction on a
pro hac vice
basis. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting a heavyweight from out of state to be handling Jeremy’s case.
Ignoring him, Colin had steadfastly kept his eyes on the bench. “Your Honor, with all due respect, no one is disputing the seriousness of the charge, but we would like to make sure this young man is not being made an example of beyond what justice is called for.”
The prosecutor had jumped in once more. “If this young man is old enough to engage in sexual activities, consensual or otherwise, he’s old enough to be tried as an adult!”
“Mister Cantwell has a point,” Judge Voakes had weighed in.
Finally, Colin had turned to the prosecutor, observing coolly, “I take it Mister Cantwell never engaged in sexual activity himself as a teenager.” The prosecutor’s rabbity face
reddened, as Colin continued, “As for the rest of us, if it were a crime, we’d all be on trial.”
A ripple of laughter had gone through the courtroom, and Alice had thought,
Score one for Colin
. She’d believed in him, in the face of his own doubts, and her faith had been validated. He clearly hadn’t lost his touch. For the first time since the start of the ordeal she’d felt hopeful.
“So you guys are like, what, friends or something?” Jeremy was asking now.
Her cheeks warmed. What Jeremy wanted to know was if there was something going on between her and Colin. She chose her words carefully. “I haven’t known him very long, but, yes, I’d say we’re friends.”
“So you like him?” Jeremy wasn’t letting her off the hook so easily.
“The main thing is, do
you
like him?” She was quick to turn the tables.
“Yeah. He’s cool.”
“That’s all that matters then,” she said. “But he can only help you if you’re willing. Just remember, he’s on your side. We all are.”
Jeremy looked down at his feet. When he raised his head at last, that strained look was back and he had trouble meeting her gaze. “Look, I wasn’t being completely honest with you before . . . about Mister Barbour. The truth is, I was fired.”
“Fired?” she echoed, in disbelief. “Why?”
“Because of what happened.”
“With the girl, you mean.” It wasn’t a question.
Carrie Ann Flagler. Alice couldn’t even bring herself to speak the name aloud. In court, she’d tried to catch the girl’s eye, to force her to look over at them and see what
her lie was costing them, but they might have been invisible as far as Carrie Ann was concerned. She’d sat flanked by her parents, a thin, nervous-looking woman and her bulldog of a husband, who at one point had shot Alice an evil look, as if the fault could be traced back to her. Carrie Ann herself had struck Alice as plain and unremarkable, a moon-faced girl with close-set eyes and brown, professionally streaked hair, who’d docilely answered the questions posed to her in a barely audible voice, every now and then flicking glances at her father, as if to be sure her responses met with his approval.
“He didn’t say that was the reason,” Jeremy replied with disgust, “but I know it was. I heard it from one of the other guys.”
“I guess Mister Barbour has never heard of innocent until proven guilty,” she said, indignant.
“It’s no big deal,” Jeremy said, with a shrug. “I probably would’ve quit anyway. He was always riding me about something.”
They were interrupted just then by Denise, swooping down on Jeremy as if she hadn’t seen him in ages. “Hey, you! Where have you been keeping yourself? You forget about your old aunt, or what?” She grabbed hold of him and gave him a squeeze, rocking him from side to side for a moment before releasing him. Her sister had had too much to drink, Alice noted. Not that Denise wasn’t entitled. She was a onewoman mule team, always looking after everyone else while putting herself last. It was nice to see her cut loose for a change. “How have you been? I mean, really.” She dropped her voice, looking deeply into Jeremy’s eyes as she stood there swaying slightly on her feet. “You’re not going to let this get in the way of your studies, are you? This other
thing,” she went on, dismissing the court case with an airy wave, “will get sorted out in no time. But college . . . sweetie, that’s your future.”
“Yeah, I know, I’m the Great White Hope of Grays Island,” Jeremy replied, in a voice thick with irony. “Can’t let anything screw that up.”
But the irony must have been lost on Denise; either that, or she was choosing to ignore it. “That’s my boy.” She patted him on the cheek. “It’ll all work out. You’ll see. In the meantime, we’re rooting for you, kiddo. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do. Thanks, Aunt Denise.” He eyed her affectionately.
Seeing the bond between them, Alice felt a quick, hard thrust of envy. At the same time, she knew that if it hadn’t been for Denise all those years, Jeremy would have been the worse for it.
Jeremy wandered off, and Denise leaned in to Alice. “Am I imagining it,” she whispered urgently, with a gust of boozy breath, “or is Susie Quinn hitting on my husband?”
Alice glanced over to where Gary was having what looked to be a perfectly innocent conversation with an old school chum. She peered at them nonetheless, as if to assess the situation, saying in a theatrically hushed voice, “I couldn’t say for sure, but they
do
look awfully cozy.” When Denise got like this, the only way to handle it was with humor. Usually her sister ended up laughing at herself. But this time she seemed determined to milk it for all it was worth.
“I always knew Susie was a slut,” she said, as if her suspicions had been confirmed. “Ramona Saucedo told me that, in high school, she slept with half the football team.”
“Not half. A third maybe,” Alice acknowledged. Never mind that Susie was now a happily married mother of two.
“Well, she’d better keep her hands to herself,” Denise growled, sotto voce. “If I ever found out Gary was cheating on me, he’d be one sorry son of a gun, by the time I got through with him. Divorce would be the least of it.”
Alice knew that Denise didn’t really believe that Gary would ever be unfaithful to her; Alice was less certain. He had been acting so secretive lately. Suppose he
was
having an affair?
They were interrupted just then by their mother, on her way to the kitchen carrying a stack of dirty plates—never mind Alice’s having told her to leave the clean-up for Eduardo to take care of in the morning. “You girls, always whispering about something,” Lucy clucked, shaking her head in mock exasperation. “What are you two plotting now?”
Alice and Denise exchanged a look, and Denise answered with a giggle, “Nothing you want to know about.” Lucy, without meaning to, had succeeded where Alice had failed in reducing Denise’s fears to the stuff of meaningless girl talk.
“Having a good time, Mom?” Alice asked, turning to her mother. She couldn’t recall when she’d last seen her look this elegant. Lucy was wearing a stylish print dress and low-heeled pumps, her silver hair clipped back on one side with a marquisette barrette. She’d even had her nails done.
“Oh, yes. It’s a wonderful party!” Lucy’s eyes shone and her color was high, no doubt due to the half-drunk glass of champagne in her hand. It didn’t take much to get her tipsy. “And whatever anyone says, I just know the restaurant will be a huge success.”
“Just what
have
people been saying?” Alice wanted to know.
Lucy looked uncertain, as if wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. “Oh, honey, it’s nothing. Just a few mean-spirited busybodies who think you don’t deserve to get ahead.” She spoke airily, in an attempt to make light of it. “But if they imagine some silly boycott is going to put you out of business—” She broke off, color flooding her cheeks.
“Boycott?” Alice stared at her in shock.
Her mother’s brow creased in consternation. “I’m sorry, dear, I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Please don’t let it worry you. It’s just a handful of cranks with nothing better to do than stir up trouble. I’m sure it’ll all blow over in no time.”
“Did you know anything about this?” Alice swung about to face Denise.
From the sheepish expression her sister wore, it was clear that she’d known all along. Even now, she attempted to minimize it, saying, “Mom’s right. You shouldn’t pay any attention to those idiots. Anyway, they’re the ones who’ll suffer, not you. Think of all the great meals they’ll be missing out on.”
Alice didn’t doubt that it would blow over, but the mere thought that there were people plotting behind her back had drained all the fun out of the evening. She didn’t want to spoil it for her mother and sister, though, so she only said, “You’re right. To hell with them. Here, Mom, why don’t you let me take those? I was just on my way into the kitchen.” She relieved her mother of the plates and headed off, feeling a sudden, urgent need to be alone.
She bumped into Colin along the way. “Need a hand?” he asked. “Or maybe someone to vent to?” he added in a lowered voice, taking in the grim set of her jaw.

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