Murder With All the Trimmings (18 page)

BOOK: Murder With All the Trimmings
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Why would someone try to poison the customers at Elsie’s Elf House? Josie wondered. She’d met Elsie. The woman didn’t seem like a killer. She was too cute and friendly and yes, elflike. Maybe Doreen did it, to ruin Elsie’s business. Except it ruined hers, too. And Doreen didn’t exactly run over there every hour to say hello to her business rival. Maybe she sent her lumpish daughter.
With a big plastic jug of antifreeze to pour in the sauce? That would be a little obvious. What was Heather going to do—disguise it with holly?
Josie tried to make the pieces of this Christmas puzzle work, but nothing fit. She dozed a bit, and was awakened by her mother announcing, “I’m here to take you up on that offer of dinner, Jack.”
Josie jerked upright and found a little puddle of drool on the arm of the chair.
Jane was wearing another new pantsuit, this one black with silver buttons. It set off her freshly washed hair. Jane’s makeup was perfect.
“I’m not hungry,” Jack said.
“Well, I am,” Jane said. “And you have to eat sometime. You won’t help that boy of yours if you get sick, too. If nothing else, you can watch me eat.”
Jack shrugged and obediently put on his coat.
Josie was stunned by the spectacle of her mother going after a man. So much for the old ways, Josie thought. Mom did everything but tackle the guy.
“Are you coming with us, Josie?” Jack asked. Jane seemed to have forgotten her daughter.
“Thanks, but I’ll stay here,” Josie said. “I’ll call Mom on her cell if there’s any change.”
Jane hauled her catch of the day off to dinner. Josie resettled herself in the uncomfortable bedside chair and wondered why hospital chairs were always turquoise. Was there a special Medical Warehouse of Blue-Green Backbreaker Chairs?
When the room was quiet again, Josie held Nate’s hand and said, “Thank you for what you said to our daughter. It will make a big difference—to her and to me. We appreciate the insurance money, too. I’ll invest it and make sure Amelia goes to college.”
She waited, hoping for a flicker of an eyelid. Nothing. She could have been talking to a wax figure.
“I’m sorry we didn’t have more time together, Nate, but we created someone exceptional. Our daughter is the best of both of us. She won’t make our mistakes.”
Josie wondered if every parent believed that. She hoped it was true.
Nate gave no sign he heard her. Josie felt bone tired, as if she’d been digging ditches instead of sitting in a hospital room. She shifted her weight, trying to ease her aching back. Nate grabbed her hand, but she couldn’t tell if it was on purpose or a reflex.
In the dark room, it seemed to Josie that the outline of the Nate she once knew showed through the wrecked man in the bed. She saw Nate’s cheekbones in the flab on his face. She could almost believe her Nate was back.
In her mind’s eye, she saw Nate the way he was on one of their first dates. She was young and carefree again, crunching through the dry leaves. She and Nate were tossing handfuls of leaves at one another and laughing.
Jane was there, too, disapproving. “You’ll regret this, Josie. You’re heading for trouble.”
“I’m young and I want to have fun,” Josie told her. “What’s wrong with that?” Her voice got louder and she was screaming at her mother. Then Josie realized the scream was actually an alarm on the monitor above Nate’s bed.
Nate’s arms were flailing, and his body was jerking like a puppet with broken strings. Josie thought he was trying to get up, and then realized he must be having some sort of seizure.
A nurse came running into the room. “You’ll have to leave,” she said, and shoved Josie out the door as a team of medical professionals pushed past her. She heard someone call “code blue” and another person demanding oxygen.
“Nate,” Josie said. “Nate, come back.”
But she knew he was already gone.
Chapter 19
“I hate you! I hate you!” Amelia screamed at her mother.
Josie felt as if those words were hacked into her heart with a rusty knife. There was no soothing way to tell Amelia her father was dead.
She’d already called Jane and Jack and waited for them at the hospital. That was a nightmare. Now she had to break the news to her daughter.
“You got what you wanted,” Amelia added, twisting the knife. “I hope you’re happy.” She ran to her room and slammed the door.
And stayed there.
Josie made Amelia’s favorite dinner of mac and cheese that night, but her daughter refused to eat it. Amelia’s hospital clothes were tossed on the floor. She was wearing jeans and her beloved pink hoodie. She must have dug it out of the back of Josie’s closet, but Josie didn’t have the heart to say anything. Amelia stayed in bed, fully dressed and curled up in a fetal position, weeping. Her computer was off, and so was the television. She wasn’t listening to her iPod.
Josie decided to leave her alone. She felt as if she’d bungled her mission, but there didn’t seem to be any way to make it better. Josie left Amelia’s door open a crack and checked on her every half hour.
Amelia sobbed herself to sleep about ten thirty that night. Josie tucked a blanket around her daughter and saw the tear tracks on her face. She was so tired, her bones ached, but Josie couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t cry, either. She moved restlessly from room to room, a lost soul who blamed herself for the disaster that had hurt her daughter.
About midnight, Josie heard something bumping down her mother’s stairs. She peered out the front door and saw Jack leaving her mother’s home with his suitcase. A cab was waiting out front. Josie guessed Nate’s father was not going to sleep in Jane’s guest room.
Jane followed Jack downstairs and stood at her door, staring after him. She didn’t wave or say good-bye.
“Want to come in for coffee?” Josie asked her mother.
“Coffee?” Jane said. “I want a drink. Do you have any wine?”
“I think I have a bottle of white in the fridge. Come in and get warm,” Josie said.
She put on coffee for herself and poured her mother a glass of cold Chardonnay. “What’s with Jack?” Josie asked.
“He won’t forgive me because I dragged him out to dinner and his boy died while we were gone.” Jane gulped down half the glass.
“That’s not your fault,” Josie said.
“That’s not what he says. He’s moving to a hotel by the airport. He barely spoke to me.”
“How’s he going to get around?” Josie asked.
“Take a cab. Rent a car. I don’t really care.” But Josie could tell her mother cared very much. Her hand trembled as she knocked back the rest of the glass. “How’s Amelia?”
“Not so good,” Josie said, pouring Jane another half a glass. “She blames me for her father’s death. Says I got what I wanted.”
“Ouch,” Jane said.
“Yes, it hurts,” Josie said. She could barely hold back her tears. “Amelia skipped her favorite dinner tonight. Want some mac and cheese?”
“No, thanks,” Jane said, a little too quickly. She took another gulp of wine.
Josie put out a bag of pretzels. She didn’t want Mrs. Mueller to see her mother staggering across the porch. The old biddy must have noticed Jack leaving in the cab. The entire neighborhood would know by morning.
“Don’t worry, Josie,” her mother said, crunching a pretzel. “She’ll come around. Kids make dramatic statements, but they don’t mean them. At least I hope they don’t.”
There was a long pause while Josie remembered the angry words she’d hurled at her mother years ago. “Hate” had definitely been one of them.
“Amelia’s a good girl,” Jane said. “She needs to mourn her father.”
“I’m not sending her to school tomorrow,” Josie said.
“That’s probably wise,” Jane said.
It was three a.m. before Jane crossed the porch to her door. Her walk was surprisingly steady. Mrs. Mueller’s lights were off.
Josie did not sleep the rest of the night. Nate’s return had caused some seismic shift in her little family. She no longer knew her own daughter. She couldn’t predict what Amelia would say or do. She’d tried to protect her daughter from Nate’s drug-dealing past and instead caused Amelia more pain. It would have been better if she’d faced who and what Nate was.
Well, too late now. I ran away like a coward, Josie reminded herself. Now she spent the dark hours of the new day in an unproductive game of what-if.
What if she’d discovered she was pregnant before Nate left for Canada?
What if Nate hadn’t been arrested in Canada for drug dealing?
What if she’d married Nate?
What if we’d lived in a cottage with a picket fence and roses?
She angrily hurled a couch pillow across the living room. I fell in love with a drunk and a drug dealer. I’m not fit to judge bananas at the supermarket.
The sky was lightening to pale gray when Josie put her head down on the pillow for a moment’s rest. The phone woke her at 9:03.
“How is Amelia?” Jane asked.
“Huh?” Josie said. “Omigod. I’ve been asleep, Mom.” She dropped the phone and rushed in to see Amelia. Her daughter was sound asleep, still wearing the pink hoodie. Josie realized she’d better call the school and say that Amelia would be out for a few days due to a death in the family.
The school secretary was crisp with Josie. “I’m sorry for your loss, Ms. Marcus, but we prefer that you notify us by e-mail before eight o’clock in case of an absence.”
Josie hung up the phone, wondering if the secretary would have been so snippy if Josie was a major donor taking her child skiing in Vail.
Josie made herself some coffee and heard the water running in Amelia’s bathroom. She poured her daughter a glass of milk and popped two pieces of bread in the toaster. She waited for Amelia to come out to the kitchen. When she didn’t appear, Josie put the jar of grape jelly on a tray with the toast and milk and a napkin and carried it to Amelia’s room. Her daughter pointedly ignored her, her chin stuck out like a bulldog’s. She’d inherited that from her grandmother.
“You can be mad at me all you want, Amelia,” Josie said. “But you have to eat sometime.”
Amelia treated her mother to more stubborn silence. Josie set the tray on Amelia’s desk and left. She felt like a complete failure. She cleaned the kitchen and dusted and vacuumed the living room.
Amelia skipped lunch and dinner. Now Josie was worried.
“Let her alone,” her mother counseled, but Josie was afraid her daughter’s grief would make her sick.
When Amelia declined breakfast again the next morning, Josie called Jane. “Do you know where Jack is staying?” Josie asked.
“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Jane said.
“Well, I care about my daughter,” Josie said.
It took real effort for her to hang up the phone gently. Josie started calling every airport hotel she could find on the Internet. She finally reached Jack at the Marriott.
“I’m sorry I behaved the way I did,” Jack said. “It was childish. Your mother is a good woman and I regret hurting her feelings.”
“She’ll survive,” Josie said. “But I’m really worried about your granddaughter. She’s refusing to eat. She hasn’t had a bite since yesterday. I wonder if you would come over to talk to her.”
“Of course. We’ll go out to lunch. What does she like to eat?”
“McDonald’s is good enough,” Josie said.
“Not for my granddaughter,” he said.
“How about a big, thick sandwich at the Posh Nosh?” Josie said. “It’s nearby in Clayton and not as expensive as the name sounds.”
“Good,” he said. “I could eat a horse, as you say.”
“No horses, but the Posh Nosh does have buffalo pastrami and buffalo corned beef. I think the deli calls it bison.”
“What about my granddaughter? Does she eat bison?”
“I think she prefers salami and Swiss on sourdough. But she’ll probably have a Canada Dry ginger ale in your honor.”
“My son tried to drink Canada dry for years,” Jack said.
There was an awkward silence. Josie didn’t know what to say.
“Yes, well, I’d better drive to your home and see my granddaughter,” Jack said. “Would you give me the directions again?”
Josie did, careful to steer him around the maze of highway construction.
“One more favor,” Josie said. “Would you talk her into changing out of that pink hoodie her father gave her? She won’t take it off.”
“I’ll do my best,” he said.
Josie hung up, feeling a little better. She was giving up some of her control over her daughter, but she no longer felt she could cope with the problems Nate had caused.
Josie knocked on Amelia’s door. “Your grandfather is coming to see you,” she said. The girl was still curled up in bed, pale and unmoving, wearing the rumpled hoodie.
Amelia made no response. Josie decided to leave her alone. She reheated a cup of coffee and was gratified to hear sounds of running water coming from Amelia’s bathroom.
BOOK: Murder With All the Trimmings
3.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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