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A Murderer Among Us Page 14
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Her heart thudded against her chest as she pulled into the driveway. She honked the horn instead of going inside. Seeing the children now would only complicate the issue looming in her mind.
Two minutes passed and Lydia honked again. Where was that girl! Jeff came to the door with Brittany snuggled under his arm. They both waved to her.
“Merry will be out in a minute,” Jeff called.
It was more like five minutes later when her daughter opened the passenger door and slipped into the car on a waft of some delicious-smelling perfume. She looked stunning in forest green slacks and a matching turtleneck sweater under her leather jacket.
“Hi, Mom.” She leaned over to kiss Lydia. “This is a great idea. Where are we going?”
Lydia mentioned the restaurant where she’d made reservations for brunch and took pleasure in watching her daughter’s eyes light up.
“Cool! I hear their food is awesome. Jeff and I tried to eat there one Saturday night, but couldn’t get in. You need to call weeks in advance.”
They drove south on Route 97 and chatted about the children. Lydia told Merry about her lunch with Abbie and Todd and their plans to get married and live in England. “We’ll be going to a wedding in January.”
They stopped for a red light. Merry didn’t speak for a moment. Then her beautiful face formed a scowl. “It would have been nice if Abbie told me this herself.”
“It’s all so new, and she’s busy making wedding plans. I’m sure Abbie will be calling you tonight.”
“You always defend her no matter what she does! I can’t believe she didn’t ask you to plan the wedding.”
The light changed, and Lydia turned onto a narrow road that ran parallel to the water.
“I would have liked that,” she admitted, “but Abbie said she didn’t want to put me to any trouble. They planned to get married in a rabbi’s study, then Todd’s cousin offered them their house.”
“Still,” Meredith insisted, “she should have included you in their plans.”
“What I really mind,” Lydia said softly, “is her living all the way off in England. I’m happy for Abbie. Todd seems like a wonderful person and he’s crazy about her. Only everything’s happening so quickly.”
Merry let out a brittle laugh. “The naive little fool. She can’t possibly know what she’s in for.”
“What do you mean?” Lydia asked, her voice rising with concern.
“Nothing specifically. Just that nothing ever turns out as planned.”
Her daughter’s cynicism almost caused Lydia to drive past the restaurant. She swerved and pulled into the parking lot.
“Mom!” Merry complained.
“Sorry.” Lydia parked then turned to her daughter. “Are you saying you and Jeff aren’t getting along?”
Merry shrugged. “We’re not not getting along. Just wading through life side by side.” She stepped out of the car and marched ahead, putting an end to the discussion. Lydia sighed and followed after her.
The restaurant’s high ceiling gave it a spacious, airy feeling. Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows facing the Great South Bay.
“Fantastic!” Merry murmured.
“Yes, it is,” Lydia agreed. They followed a smiling young woman to a table with a water view.
“I see you haven’t lost your knack for reserving the choice table,” Merry teased.
“Only the best for my daughter,” Lydia answered.
They leaned back into the well-padded chairs and gazed out in companionable silence. Lydia sighed as the gentle, monotonous motion of the wavelets seemed to brush against her soul, releasing all tension.
“This is so relaxing, I could sit here all day,” Meredith murmured.
“It’s almost like being on an ocean liner. I’ve always wanted to sail on the Queen Mary—all the way to England.”
“Do it, Mom, when you visit Abbie.”
“You’ll come with me,” Lydia said. “In the evening we’ll wear long dresses and dine at least once at the captain’s table.”
“Won’t that be fun!” Merry grinned impishly at Lydia. “When we dock in London, we’ll kidnap Abbie from her love nest and have a night on the town. Imagine that—the three Krause women living it up. We haven’t done that in a long, long time.”
“No, we haven’t,” Lydia agreed. In fact, the only time the three of them had gone out together was the evening of Abbie’s college graduation. Surprisingly, Meredith had drunk too much and was sick during the night.
Lydia was enjoying her daughter’s company and felt a pang of disappointment when their young waitress came over to ask what they’d like to drink and to offer the list of specials. They ordered and the waitress hurried back with their Bloody Marys. Meredith drank deeply from hers.
“It feels decadent, being away from the girls and drinking before noon.”
“Do you miss teaching?” Lydia asked.
Merry shrugged. “A bit. I feel as though my life has been put in dry dock like a winterized boat.” She gave a little laugh. “I’m not sure how it’s going to be once spring comes around.”
Lydia shuddered as a chill snaked down her back. “Every woman’s life changes when she has children. It’s a fearsome responsibility, and you’re often left to cope on your own during the day.”
“Unless you go to work—as you did.”
“Yes.” Lydia met her daughter’s eyes. “You were eight years old and in third grade when I started working in your grandparents’ company. They were running it into the ground. I discovered I had a knack for the business world. I came up with several ideas, and we managed to turn the company around. I liked working there. I was happy to take over the company when they asked me to. Your father was relieved because it meant he could concentrate on his sculpting.” She lowered her voice. “I’m sorry I wasn’t at home when you needed me.”
“I hated when the school day ended and I had to go home to a strange woman, knowing I wouldn’t see you until dinner time.”
“Your father was usually home by six.”
“Watching TV in the den.”
Lydia chortled. “That’s rich! I don’t see you sitting home with Brittany and Greta every afternoon. I know because half the time I’m watching them!”
“Mom, please! Is this why you invited me out for brunch, so you can tell me what a terrible mother I am?”
“Of course not! It’s just that I feel you’re restless and unhappy, and I want to help if I can.”
“Here you are!” their waitress chirped, setting a huge platter of food in front of each of them. While Lydia welcomed the interruption, she suddenly had little appetite to tackle the Belgian waffle topped with strawberries and cream.
Meredith ate in silence. When the waitress asked if everything was all right, she ordered another Bloody Mary. Oh, oh, Lydia worried. Is she turning into an alcoholic or is she upset? When she’d had enough of her shrimp salad, Meredith pushed her plate away.
“I’m not happy playing wife and mother,” she said.
“Playing?” Lydia echoed. “You are a wife and a mother. Your children are small now, but they’ll grow up and become people in their own right.”
“And Jeff?”
“He loves you. I suspect he’ll be there—if you want him to stay.”
Meredith looked away, but Lydia saw the tears in her eyes.
“Don’t you love him anymore?”
“I don’t know. We don’t connect. The only things we have in common are the girls and our house.”
Lydia took a deep breath. It was now or never. She stretched out her hand to cover Merry’s. “I think you should do your best to make it work. For everyone’s sake. Steve Thiergard isn’t the answer.”
Meredith jerked her hand free. “Who said anything about Steve? He’s only a friend!”
“Call him what you like. I think you’ve been seeing him on days I’ve come to watch the girls. I don’t like being used so you can have some excitement in your life.”
The blush started at Merry’s neck and rose to her ears.
“I’m not after excitement. We talk. Steve understands what I’m going through.”
“What exactly are you going through?”
The tears rolled down her cheeks. This time she made no attempt to hide them. “I feel lonely all the time. I love Brittany and Greta, but they always want and need and demand my time and attention.”
And Jeff?”
Meredith’s face hardened with anger. “I know you think he’s perfect, but that’s an act he puts on when you’re around. Jeff feels overwhelmed by everything—the girls, the house, even me. He works more than he has to to avoid us. At home he watches TV or goes on the computer.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Merry nodded. “When I ran into Steve and we got to talking, it was such a relief to laugh and chat like I used to. Like I haven’t in a long time. It only seemed natural for us to get together again.”
“So you did know him in college.”
“Oh, yes. It felt like a gift, running into him like that.”
Some gift, Lydia thought grimly. More like an accident waiting to happen. The waitress took away their dishes. They ordered coffee and apple pie a la mode. When she left, Lydia reached across the table and squeezed Meredith’s arm.
“You always felt things more than most people. But Steve Thiergard isn’t the solution to your problems.”
Merry’s eyes glistened as she spoke. “Maybe he is, Mom. He’s a genuinely sympathetic person. I remember that from when I went out with him in college.”
“You did? I don’t remember your mentioning his name.”
Meredith shrugged. “We only saw each other for about a month. He pulled back because he felt we were getting too serious and he needed his space.” Reading Lydia’s expression, she quickly added, “He’s different now. More mature.”
“Merry, you find him so appealing because you and Jeff are weighted down by responsibilities and the realities of children, home and mortgage payments. You’ve no idea how Steve would react if he had to stay up all night with a feverish child.”
Meredith gazed steadily into her mother’s eyes. “I think I love him, Mom.”
Lydia gasped as the ground seemed to shift beneath their table. The waitress set down their coffees with a smile. Lydia stared back as if she were a space alien.
“You’re infatuated with a good-looking guy who listens to you complain about your husband. That’s not love, Meredith.”
Meredith gave a rueful laugh. “I’ll take it over sitting in silence because you both know whatever words come out of your mouths will lead to an argument.”
“What do you and Jeff argue about?”
“Everything. A toy I want to buy for Greta. I want to throw out the old den couch you gave us and get a new one. If you heard Jeff, you’d think we were poor. I keep telling him that’s why we took out the home equity loan. So we can buy what we need.”
“How much do you owe?”
Meredith shrugged. “Around fifty thousand dollars.”
“And you have your monthly mortgage payments, which are hefty, if I remember correctly.”
Meredith glared at her. “I’m not asking you to help out.”
“I already have—with the down payment,” Lydia reminded her. When Meredith didn’t answer, Lydia continued, “I think you should take the offer to return to work next semester.”
“Jeff told you! He had no right!”
“I don’t know about that, but I think it’s a good idea. You’ve been too isolated staying at home. You’re better off teaching and socializing with your colleagues. Money will become less of a problem.”
“Working’s supposed to make me forget about Steve and turn Jeff and me into a happy couple? Get real, Mom. Things don’t work that way.”
Lydia sighed as she ventured into deeper waters. “Meredith, how well do you know Steve Thiergard?”
“Well enough. Why?”
“Did you know he’s been selling dangerous herbs to older women desperate to regain their youth?”
Meredith hesitated, then said, “I knew he was selling them, but they’re not dangerous.”
“We don’t know that because the tests haven’t been completed. Steve said so himself on Thursday.”
“Steve told me they’ve seen enough good results to put the compound on the market. It actually enhances a woman’s appearance and vitality. What’s holding up production is some silly glitch involving filing or registration.”
“The glitch is probably because the capsules have been implicated in causing heart attacks.”
Meredith shook her head. “Not true. The compound is perfectly safe for healthy women. The three women who got sick during the trials had previous heart conditions. Steve told me the label on the bottle will read ‘Contraindicated for anyone with heart disease’ in big, bold letters.”
She leaned forward and her voice filled with emotion. “Steve’s totally dedicated to promoting this compound so older people can lead fuller lives. If anything, his intentions are altruistic.”
“Now who’s being naive?” Lydia demanded. “Your boyfriend’s been peddling the stuff at Twin Lakes and charging a small fortune for each bottle. Claire Weill was taking the compound before she was killed.”
“Mom, you don’t think Steve had anything to do with her murder!”
“No, I don’t,” Lydia admitted, “but Marshall Weill was furious with him once he learned he’d been selling the capsules to his wife. And Steve lied to me. He said they weren’t the same capsules he was raving about on Thanksgiving, when I know damn well they are!” She grimaced. “Steve Thiergard’s more devious than you know. It’s probably how he managed to buy himself a Jaguar.”
“He told me he’d inherited money from a great-uncle,” Meredith said softly.
The waitress stopped by to offer coffee refills. Lydia asked for the check. They drove home in silence. A few times Lydia opened her mouth to urge Meredith to end her relationship with Steve, then closed it again, sensing that any more motherly advice would infuriate her daughter. She’d spoken her mind and expressed her outrage regarding Steve’s shady dealings. Meredith had turned him into her savior. On the other hand, her daughter had a good head on her shoulders. Lydia sighed. She’d done all she could. The rest was up to Meredith.
She pulled into Merry’s driveway and was surprised when her daughter turned to hug her. “Thanks for listening, Mom, and for not telling me what an awful person I am.”
Lydia stroked her daughter’s sleek hair. “Of course you’re not an awful person, Merry, but I hate to see you do something foolish that will destroy your family. Seriously consider working next semester. I’ll watch the girls the afternoons I’m free and help pay for a woman the other three days.”
Merry gave her a rueful smile. “Thanks for your kind offer. I’ll think it over and let you know.”
Lydia drove home slowly, musing about the fragility of life. It wasn’t only grave illness and accidents that changed people’s lives suddenly and irrevocably. Fraying relationships—especially between husband and wife—caused misery to everyone involved. Relationships had to be nurtured or they withered and died.
She’d been unfair to Merry, thinking she was the root of all her marital problems. Of course there had to be discord between her and Jeff for her to go willingly into the arms of another man. Her fondness for her son-in-law had blinded her to his part in their strained relations. Lydia shook her head as she passed the security gate and entered Twin Lakes. Repairing the damage wasn’t going to be easy, either. Relationships were much too complex to expect a quick and simple solution.
* * *
She knew something was wrong the moment she entered the house. Reggie came barreling toward her, wailing his complaint. Lydia took him into her arms and nestled her face in his fur as she walked cautiously through the kitchen. Nothing untoward here, she thought, moving on through the dining area to the living room. The damage was to
the long side window—a hole that had scattered pieces of glass over the carpet. Shocked, she nearly dropped Reggie, causing him to yowl in complaint. She set him down gingerly before approaching the rock that had landed obscenely on a sofa. Her hands trembled as she removed the note from the string that kept it in place.
“This is a warning,” it said. “Keep your nose out of other people’s affairs or something bad will happen to you.”
She giggled with nervous laugher as she sank back against the other sofa, hugging a cushion to her chest. Someone had vandalized her home! Fear tempered her fury, and she tried to make light of her growing terror. The gesture was ridiculous, the note’s wording over the top. Lydia shuddered as reality asserted itself. Melodramatic or not, there had been two murders and the pool cover incident to prove that danger lurked in Twin Lakes. She’d be a fool not to take the threat seriously.
What exactly was it referring to? Her helping Marshall Weill prove his innocence? The affair between her daughter and Steve Thiergard? Exposure of Steve’s herbal capsule business? Or the fact that she was trying to discover who had murdered Claire Weill and Doris Fein?
Lydia had no idea, nor did she know who was warning her off in such a crude and childish manner. She knew, however, it was time to call Detective Sol Molina to inform him what had happened.
Fourteen
Sol Molina was pissed. His displeasure came through loud and clear as he paced up and down Lydia’s kitchen floor, berating her in the coldest, most formal of tones, for being the most foolish—no!—the most arrogant, irresponsible woman on Long Island for offering to help Marshall Weill clear his name.
What was she thinking? Where were her wits? Her common sense? Didn’t she realize that by poking around and not leaving the police work to him and his men she was antagonizing the murderer, who undoubtedly had thrown the rock?
“But I haven’t questioned anyone about Marshall,” she insisted. Frantically, she racked her brain to come up with a plausible alternative. “Maybe someone threw the rock for another reason.”