Part 10 (2/2)
I got out of the car and beeped it locked. ”She's in shock. Come on, let's get this over with.”
A minute later, John answered our knock at the door of suite fourteen. ”He's in here, Mrs. O'Halloran. He's a little worse for wear, but he's okay. His gla.s.ses are broken, and he hasn't had access to a razor in more than a week, but he's all right and very anxious to see you.”
Margo and I stood behind Mary, ready to catch her if she collapsed, but her composure held. ”I brought him some things I knew he would need,” she said and held out the little suitcase she had brought with her. Her eyes searched the room beyond John, and he stepped aside.
James stood in the center of the room, still wet from a shower. He wore a terrycloth robe, thoughtfully provided by the hotel. His eyes were riveted on Mary where she stood at the door.
John took the suitcase she held out and put it on the end of the bed. ”There's no point in trying to deal with the legalities tonight, so James has agreed to turn himself in to the Wethersfield police at ten o'clock tomorrow morning. There will be an officer parked outside this building tonight in an unmarked car.” He stopped talking, since it was clear that neither James nor Mary was listening to him. He looked at us and shrugged.
Margo gave Mary a little push, and she stumbled into the room. Her eyes never left her husband as she ran to him and grabbed him by both shoulders. John looked a little alarmed, but Margo shook her head at him.
”You stupid son of a b.i.t.c.h,” Mary said. Then she stood on tiptoe and hugged him fiercely.
We backed out of the room, and John pulled the door shut. We exchanged satisfied smiles as the promised police officer pulled up beside us to consult briefly with John. He took up his position in the first row of parking s.p.a.ces and cut the engine of his unmarked vehicle.
”Poor guy,” Margo sympathized. ”He has to sit there all night? What does he do when, uh, he has to use the facilities?”
”They're equipped to deal with that,” John told her without elaborating. ”Anyway, he'll only be there for four hours. The duty will rotate among several officers.”
”What will happen to James, John? In his own mind, he's responsible for his brother's death, but it was an accident, a freak accident.”
John looked at me in the lamplight as if considering my ability to hear what he was about to say. ”That part isn't really the problem,” he said finally, ”or at least, it wouldn't have been if he'd busted out of that room at the Wadsworth yelling for help when he found his brother. No one in his right mind would have believed a man would deliberately try to drown someone in a vat of punch.” He shook his head. ”No, it was what he did next that will turn a jury against him, if it comes to that.”
”You mean, trying to cover it up?”
John ticked off points on his fingers. ”He fished his brother's body out of the punch and dressed it in a Santa suit. Then he put him in a garbage bag and wheeled the body out of the museum. He drove to the boat launch, tipped Joseph into the river, and carefully put his car back exactly where he had originally parked it. Finally, he hiked all the way across town to the UCC and made himself invisible for more than a week. He didn't come to his senses the next day and call somebody. He laid low for eight days, and who knows how much longer he would have been there if you hadn't figured it out.”
John's matter-of-fact summation made my blood run cold. ”He wanted people to think it was he who had died so his wife could collect on his life insurance,” I pointed out in James' defense.
”That was never going to work,” John said in disgust. ”There are all kinds of physical evidence used to identify a body, like dental records, DNA, traces of medications. Besides, if he cared so much about his wife, did he consider how she would feel having to view the remains? She was pretty lucky Joseph had been in the water only three days when she saw him. After a week, they get ... well.” He thought better of supplying details.
”So it's not so much Joseph's death but the cover up that's got James in over his head?” My words replayed in my mind. I clapped a hand over my mouth but couldn't contain an involuntary giggle at my unfortunate metaphor. Margo picked up on it immediately.
”Out of his depth?” she offered and snorted.
”Going down for the third time?” I choked, and we both howled.
”You two are sick,” was John's only comment.
”You're right, we're bad people,” Margo said. We pulled ourselves together. ”Now, I believe someone promised me dinner and a movie.” She patted her husband's backside discreetly. I couldn't see in the dim light, but I was sure John was blus.h.i.+ng. ”What are you and your fella gettin' up to tonight, Sugar?”
I had a sudden vision of Armando up to his elbows in a sinkful of dirty gla.s.sware while hungry cats yowled around his ankles.
”Oh my G.o.d, I've got to get home,” I blurted in a panic. I headed for my car at a trot. ”Armando and Emma have been coping with the whole wedding thing by themselves all day, not to mention the new cat.”
”New cat?” Margo called after me.
”Gracie, you'll meet her tomorrow. See you then. You guys are the best.”
I started the car and tore out of the lot at an imprudent rate of speed, considering that two of Wethersfield's finest were watching me. At the first light, I checked my watch. Nearly six o'clock, and I had planned to be home to help in mid-afternoon. Well, at least I had a great excuse.
I pulled into the garage and ran up the stairs to the kitchen door. When I opened it, I fully expected to find pandemonium, but all was quiet. The kitchen was in surprisingly good order, and something appetizing simmered on the stove. I followed the smell of wood smoke into the living room, where logs blazed cheerfully in the fireplace. Armando and Emma sat companionably on the sofa, enjoying a gla.s.s of wine. They looked up when I came in and stopped dead in my tracks.
”Hi, Momma. We didn't hear you,” Emma stated the obvious, but I was too stunned to respond. I very nearly didn't recognize my own home. In the few hours I had been gone, the s.p.a.ce before me had been transformed from a run-of-the-mill dining-living room into an elegant holiday setting for a wedding. The furniture had been moved to the walls to open up the s.p.a.ce. Damask-draped tables formed a buffet on which crystal and silver gleamed. A small side table stood at the ready for the wedding cake.
What had been the pa.s.s-through from kitchen to dining room was now a fully stocked wet bar. Tasteful arrangements of white roses and baby's breath mixed with seasonal greenery now complemented the Christmas tree and a few other decorations that had been allowed to remain. A bridal garland on the mantel indicated where the ceremony would take place, and short rows of satin-padded folding chairs were arranged down the center of the room in front of the mantel. Very simply, the place was drop-dead gorgeous.
”How did you do this? Did the caterer's staff help?”
Emma gave Armando a thumbs-up. ”Oh, they came by around noon and dropped off some gla.s.ses and silverware and stuff, and the florist delivered a lot of roses, but we pulled it all together. So you like it?”
”Like it? I love it! I can't believe this is our house. Jeff and Donna will be absolutely thrilled. I think you two should go into the catering business yourselves.” I crossed to where they sat and gave each of them a big hug. ”I'm so sorry I got held up, but wait until you hear what happened.”
Armando put a gla.s.s of wine into my hand and pushed me gently into the big easy chair opposite the sofa. After just a few sentences, they were hanging on my every word, their eyes round.
”Wow,” was Emma's succinct reaction when I finally wound down.
Armando's eyes danced as he gazed at me across the room. ”So once again, Wethersfield's answer to Jessica Fletcher has solved the crime,” he joked gently. ”I am sure the police are grateful for your a.s.sistance, as they have been in the past.” Despite his teasing words, I could hear the pride in his voice.
”Depends on who you ask,” I replied. ”I don't think that young man sitting in the Hubbard Plaza parking lot for the next several hours is all that happy with me. Anyway, I'm starving. Emma, are you staying to share whatever it is on the stove that smells so good?”
She drained her gla.s.s and jumped to her feet. After the day she had put in, I admired her energy. ”No can do, Momma, sorry.” She headed for the kitchen.
”Big plans for the evening?” Armando twitted her. I knew he was as happy as I was to see her regaining her energy and spirit. She stuck her head back into the room as she shrugged into her coat.
”As a matter of fact, I do,” she retorted. ”I've been invited to a party, and I'm going, so there.” She caught my eye and winked. ”Don't worry, Momma. I'm back.”
”I can see that. Have a good time.”
”I intend to,” she a.s.sured me. ”See you guys tomorrow,” and she was gone.
Thirteen.
”Are you excited?” I asked Jeff on the phone the next morning.
”Right at the moment, I don't know what I am, Aunt Kate. I'm worried about Donna. If I'm interpreting the awful noises coming from the bathroom correctly, she's in there throwing up.”
”Perfectly normal,” I a.s.sured him. ”I'm sure it's just a thumping good case of the jitters combined with morning sickness. Surely this isn't a new thing.”
”If she's been having this kind of morning sickness, she's done a great job of keeping it a secret from me,” Jeff said.”
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