‘Oh no. We’ve known about it for a couple of months,’ said Peggy. ‘He hardly has any symptoms yet. Most of the time he feels perfectly well. But, he has days . . . I keep thinking that if he remains in good health long enough, they may find a cure. He doesn’t seem to have any optimism left though. I guess, maybe, when we had the cruise to look forward to, we were thinking about that. But now he’s just very down. Hardly leaves the house.’
As Peggy talked, Shelby was driving south through the city, passing from the trendy neighborhood around the hospital through the bustling Italian Market area, now mostly Asian in flavor, and into the huge residential swathe of the city known as South Philly. Close to Washington Street, the two-story row homes were plain but well kept, with trees planted along the sidewalks. As she drove farther south, towards Snyder, the curbs became strewn with litter, and the run-down blocks were pockmarked with boarded-up buildings, covered with graffiti. One fact was inescapable. The Ridleys had just been on an expensive cruise. And yet, one had to be poor to live in this neighborhood. Nobody would ever live here by choice.
She found Hector Street. It was a narrow, one-way street. It was in better condition than some they had passed, but food wrappers and cigarette butts were wadded up on the sewer grates, thuggish teenagers clustered on the corner, and cars with duct-taped roofs and windows were parked along the curb.
Shelby parked a few doors down from the Ridleys’ house. As she got out of the car and came around to the passenger side to open the door for Peggy, she was trying to think of a tactful way to frame the troubling question that was emerging in her mind. Finally, she said, ‘Well, it was lucky that you had the means to take that cruise before your husband got any sicker.’
‘Oh heavens,’ Peggy chuckled as she allowed Shelby to help her out of the seat and accepted the cane which Shelby retrieved from the back seat. ‘We could never have afforded that cruise. Not in a million years.’
‘Oh?’ said Shelby, although she was not truly surprised.
‘No,’ Peggy scoffed. ‘My husband won that cruise in a contest.’
‘Really,’ said Shelby.
‘I know. Wasn’t that lucky? Sometimes it seems like everything is going wrong. And then, something good happens.’
They had crossed the sidewalk and arrived at the foot of the steps leading up to the Ridleys’ house. ‘I can’t thank you enough,’ said Peggy. ‘This was so nice of you.’
‘Here,’ said Shelby. ‘Let me help you inside.’
‘Oh, I can manage,’ said Peggy.
‘No, I promised Faith,’ said Shelby.
Peggy beamed. ‘Bless your heart. Can you stay for a cup of coffee?’
Shelby tried to sound nonchalant. ‘Sure. A quick half a cup.’
‘Good,’ said Peggy, as Shelby helped her, one by one, up the steps. The front windows looked blank, covered, as they were, with closed drapes discolored by years of sun, except for a dusty arrangement of fake flowers in a greenish urn which was propped on the inside window sill. Peggy unlocked the front door, opened it, and called out ‘Bud, I’m back.’ There was no answer.
Then she turned to Shelby. ‘Come. Come on in.’
Inside the house was dimly lit and tidy. Peggy indicated a well-worn chair at the scarred dining table. ‘So, coffee?’ Peggy asked. ‘It’s instant.’
‘Sure,’ said Shelby, although she was not thirsty. Now that she was seated in the Ridleys’ home, she felt more confused than ever. These were people of the most modest means who had won their trip in a contest. It was purely a stroke of luck in an unlucky life. How could it have anything to do with Chloe’s death? She did not even know what questions to ask.
Peggy limped back to the kitchen. Shelby looked around the tiny living room and dining area. It was a virtual shrine to Faith. Every wall and surface had photographs of her, from baby pictures to wedding photos of Faith, in a sensible knee-length dress and a short veil, holding a bouquet and tilting her head toward her gentle-looking husband. She had not been a young bride, but she was beaming with contentment in the photos. In a few moments Peggy returned with a steaming mug, and set it down in front of Shelby.
‘Aren’t you having any?’ Shelby asked.
Peggy shook her head. ‘Makes me need to pee. And the bathroom’s upstairs.’
Shelby nodded, and blew on the steaming liquid. ‘So, you won that cruise in a contest.’
‘I didn’t win it,’ said Peggy. ‘Bud did. Some sports radio station he listens to. You had to be the twentieth caller or something. At first I wanted to see if we could trade it in for the money, so we could help Faith and her husband out with the house. The place needs all new appliances and everything. And he’s got two kids from his first marriage so the money is always tight.’
‘Sure,’ said Shelby. But she wasn’t thinking about Faith’s finances. She was thinking about the probability of someone winning such an expensive prize from a call-in radio contest. Shelby worked in the retail business. She knew a thing or two about advertising expenses. There was something wrong with this explanation.
‘Bud wouldn’t hear of it. He insisted that we go. We’d never been on a real vacation like that. When Faith was little we took some trips in the car, but then Bud lost his job. And I had my accident – it was always something.’
‘I know how that is,’ said Shelby absently.
‘I’m glad we went,’ said Peggy. ‘We have good memories to look back on.’
‘That’s good,’ said Shelby.
‘I wonder where he is,’ Peggy fretted. ‘I did ask him to get me some coleslaw. Maybe he walked down to the corner deli. He hardly leaves the house anymore. He’s very depressed. Well, who wouldn’t be? Here he’s been worrying about me all these years and then boom. But I tell him, look, you never know. It could take years for this thing to progress. Meantime, you can’t spend the rest of your life hiding in the house.’
Shelby sipped at the coffee. ‘No, of course not,’ she said.
‘Usually I volunteer in the morning at the church. My friend, Judy, picks us up and we have lunch there. We know everybody there. Bud used to enjoy it himself. But now he doesn’t want to go anymore.’
There was a sound of a key turning in a lock, and Peggy looked up at the front door. ‘There he is,’ she said, with real relief in her voice.
The front door opened, and Bud Ridley came in, a newspaper tucked under his arm, carrying a small, brown paper bag. He did not look like a sick man. He had the same hearty appearance that Shelby remembered from the police station in St Thomas, but the expression in his eyes was weary.
‘Hey honey,’ said Peggy. ‘Guess what?’
‘What?’ Bud asked, tucking his keys into his pants pocket.
‘You’ll never believe who’s here.’
‘Who?’ Bud demanded.
Shelby stood up and turned to face him.
Bud stared at her, and then recoiled, his eyes wide, as if he’d seen a ghost. He let out a strangled cry, dropping the bag and his newspaper.
‘Bud,’ Peggy exclaimed. ‘What’s the matter with you? That’s spilling all over the rug.’
The carton of coleslaw in the brown bag had burst open and dumped out on the floor. The oily dressing was seeping into the well-worn carpet. Bud did not seem to notice. His face was a deathly white.
Shelby’s heart began to race. His reaction was not simply surprise. It was something much greater. The sight of her had sent him into a complete panic. Why? ‘Hello Bud.’
Bud’s mouth opened and closed, like a fish. ‘How did you find us?’ he gasped.
‘Find you?’ Shelby asked.
‘Faith,’ said Peggy. ‘Faith’s boss is Shelby’s sister. How is that for a strange coincidence?’
Bud averted his eyes, as if he was afraid to look at Shelby.
‘Did you have one of those spells of weakness, honey?’ Peggy fretted. ‘You haven’t had one in a while. It’s all right. Don’t worry. These things happen.’
Bud shook his head.
‘I better clean this up,’ Peggy sighed.
‘I’ll do it,’ said Bud, avoiding Shelby’s gaze.
Shelby was electrified by his discomfort. By his fear. Suspicion sharpened all her senses. There was a secret here. She could feel it. She was sure. She just didn’t know how to confront him. How did you happen to be with my daughter, just before she died? she wanted to ask. How did you come to be on that boat? On that same cruise. And then, suddenly, she knew what to ask. ‘Bud, Peggy was just telling me about how you won that cruise from a radio station,’ said Shelby. ‘I have to start listening to that station myself. What station was it?’
Bud did not answer. He scurried past her into the kitchen. Peggy was shaking her head at the mess on the floor. Shelby stood in the dreary living room, feeling like a tireless explorer at the hidden portal to an ancient tomb. The look on Bud’s face at that first, unexpected sight of her, told her that she had stumbled on to the secret she was seeking. And no matter what it took, she was going to pry that secret loose.
TWENTY-THREE
‘
I
don’t know what happened to him,’ said Peggy. ‘Bud,’ she called out toward the kitchen door. But there was no answer. ‘It’s not like him to be so rude.’
‘It’s all right. I need to be going anyway,’ Shelby said. ‘I have to pick up my grandson. Thank you for your hospitality.’
‘Here, don’t step in that,’ Peggy said as she accompanied Shelby to the door, sidestepping the spilled coleslaw.
Shelby said good-bye and walked out on to the front step. Once outside, she was shaking so hard that she needed to hold on to the railing to descend. She managed to make it to her car. She climbed inside, turned on the engine, and locked the door. She needed to think. Bud Ridley had nearly collapsed when he saw her in his living room. And it wasn’t because he was pleasantly surprised. No. He clearly had hoped never to set eyes on Shelby again.
Part of Shelby wanted to jump from the car, bang on the door to the house and demand that he tell her the truth. But she knew that would not accomplish what she wanted. She needed time to think. To plan her ambush. She needed to confront him when Peggy was not around. Peggy was oblivious. That much was clear. Shelby was going to have to take him by surprise, and alone.
Shelby picked up Jeremy and drove him to the park. On the way, he said, ‘Are we going to see Daddy?’
In the chaos of the day, Shelby had forgotten her intention to visit Rob. But at least she knew now that Rob was conscious. So, even if he looked terrible, he would be able to reassure his son. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘We’ll go and see Dad after supper.’
Jeremy let out a whoop of joy, and, when they arrived at the park, he burst from the car and clambered up the jungle gym in a frenzy of excitement. Shelby took a seat on a bench far from the other parents and the squeals of the children, and took out her cell phone. For a few minutes she thought about her strategy. Then she dialed information, took a deep breath, and placed her call.
‘Sunset Cruises,’ said the operator.
‘Yes, my name is Erin Dodson. I’m in radio advertising. I’d like to speak to the head of your advertising sales department,’ Shelby said.
‘One minute, please.’
Shelby waited, and then heard a smooth, seductive male voice on the other end of the line. ‘This is Craig Murphy. How can I help you?’
‘Hi,’ said Shelby. ‘My name is Erin Dodson. I’m calling from radio station WLSP in Philadelphia. We’re a twenty-four hour sports radio station, and I wanted to know if we could entice you to spend your advertising dollars at WLSP by running a promotional giveaway of a Caribbean cruise for two. We have an excellent demographic for your kind of customer and I’d be happy to meet with you—’
‘Wait a minute. Whoa.’ Craig Murphy chuckled. ‘Are you new at this job?’
Shelby hesitated. ‘I’ve been here for three weeks,’ she said.
‘Well, I appreciate your enthusiasm but we don’t give away cruises on local radio stations. A giveaway like that is something we might do nationally with Coke or something. Local radio is definitely not a part of Sunset’s advertising strategy.’
Shelby was silent. I knew it, she thought.
‘In fact, we really don’t do any radio advertising at all these days. We’ve found that, when it comes to cruises, there’s no substitute for the visual image. We are strictly high-end magazines in print, and, of course, television. The occasional newspaper supplement entirely devoted to our product.’
‘I can’t talk you into a meeting to explore the possibilities?’
‘Sorry,’ said Craig Murphy. ‘But you’d be wasting your time. It’s just not going to happen.’
‘Well, thanks anyway,’ said Shelby.
Shelby tucked her phone back into her bag, and walked toward the jungle gym. Her gaze remained on Jeremy, but she wasn’t really seeing him. Her thoughts, and her heart, were racing away.
It was a lie. She had suspected it the moment she heard it, but now she knew for sure. They had not won the cruise in a contest. That was something Bud had told his wife and daughter, and they had believed him. But it wasn’t true. And if they hadn’t won it, then how did they happen to be aboard that ship? More importantly, why did Bud lie? And why were they with Chloe on the night that she died?
A scream ripped through her distraction and she saw a cloud of dust and a crowd of children at the base of the jungle gym. She ran over and found Jeremy fighting and clawing at an older, larger boy. They were rolling around in the sand at the base of the apparatus.
‘Jeremy, stop,’ Shelby cried, as she tried to get between them. Jeremy was flailing away, although taking the worst of the fight. ‘Both of you. Stop it right now,’ Shelby insisted.
‘He stepped on my fingers,’ Jeremy cried tearfully.
‘You pushed me,’ the other boy accused.
‘All right. All right, enough,’ said Shelby. ‘Let me see that hand.’
Jeremy displayed reddened fingers. ‘It’s his fault,’ Jeremy yelled.
‘I don’t care whose fault it is. There’s no need for a fistfight. Come on, Jeremy. Come with me. We’ve got to get to the hospital.’