to look. A petite woman, with a round face, sharp blue eyes, and shoulder-length hair pulled back with a black velvet ribbon. Granted she had changed somewhat since the days she managed the Reynolds children. Now in her late sixties, her hair, once a rich shade of chestnut, had faded to a silvery white, and faint wrinkles lined her checks and forehead. Her carriage, however, had not succumbed to age; she still moved with the same assured ramrod posture that instilled both fear and respect.
Ann bounded out of the car and ran to Nana on the doorstep and enveloped her in a giant hug. It wasn’t the friendly hug you give an old acquaintance—this was the needy hug of a child seeking comfort. Ann seemed to sag into Nana.
“How are you holding up, honey? Are you okay?” Nana asked softly as she gently stroked Ann’s back.
Ann’s reply was muffled and she kept her head buried in Nana’s shoulder. After a moment she stepped back. Her eyes were a tad red, but she seemed in control.
Nana glanced my way. “Hello, Elizabeth,” she said. “How have you been?”
“I’ve been fine, Nana,” I replied. “It’s good to see you.” Gesturing to Kit, I added, “Have you met my sister, Kit?”
Nana politely shook Kit’s hand before turning back to me. “I have to admit, Elizabeth, I hardly recognized you at the funeral. I must say, you’ve certainly changed since I last saw you. You’re so tall and slim!”
I may have neglected to mention before now that as a child I ate my feelings, feelings that usually manifested themselves as chocolate doughnuts and sausage pizza (it’s been my experience that feelings rarely take the form of, say, carrots or celery). So what I’m saying is that I was on the heavy side. Still, there was no call for Kit to snigger (yes,
Repressing the urge to deck Kit right there on the front lawn, I instead sweetly said, “Yes, but these days it’s Kit who has the extra weight, but, of course, that’s because she’s expecting. We’re all so excited.”
Distracted by Nana’s coos of congratulation, Kit didn’t have time to decipher if my comment was intentionally snarky (it was). Once she finished congratulating Kit, Nana invited us into her house. Although it was large and spacious, it had a cozy, snug feel to it. The foyer was simple, with a wide-planked wood floor and a high ceiling. Nana led us into a cheerful sitting room that boasted a vaulted ceiling with exposed beams and a wall of windows that afforded a stunning view of the water.
Nana directed us to take seats, before asking in a serious voice, “So, how are you doing, Ann? The truth.” Kit and I sat down on a canary yellow couch, while Ann took a seat on a club chair upholstered in red gingham. Nana sat down in its twin and studied her old charge with a concerned expression.
Ann shrugged before answering. “I’m not going to lie to you, Nana. The past few days have been terrible. It’s been bad enough dealing with Dad’s death and all the aftermath, but I’ve had to relive some really painful memories.”
Ann fell silent. Nana said nothing. She knew Ann well enough to let her talk at her own pace. After a moment, Ann told Nana of Michael’s attack. Nana’s blue eyes grew dark with anger. “That son of a bitch,” she muttered. Ann nodded in full agreement and then said, “But, honestly, the worst of it is that Joe is in charge of the investigation.”
A knowing expression crept into Nana’s eyes. Even after all these years, she didn’t need to be reminded who Joe was. “Ah, so Joe is back in the picture, is he?” she said thoughtfully.
Ann flushed. “He’s not back in
Nana looked unconvinced but did not press the topic. “Well, tell me then, what’s happened so far with the investigation?”
Ann quickly and succinctly brought Nana up to date with everything that had happened so far. Nana sighed and shook her head. “I always thought that Michael would come to a bad end, but I never envisioned this.”
“Did you never like him?” Ann asked.
“I have to admit that at first I thought he was charming. He knew how to work people. But after a while I sensed that his charm was all an act. There was an aspect of him that was closed off. I don’t know how to explain this, but there was something artificial about him that bothered me.” Nana looked at us as if at a loss for words. “You never got the impression of a true burst of feeling,” she finally said. “I tried to talk to Reggie about it, but she was beyond reason when it came to him. She was head over heels about that boy.”
“But she nevertheless ended it,” I pointed out.
Nana nodded. “True, but I always thought there was more to it. I sometimes wondered if they didn’t just have a minor tiff and Reggie overreacted and ended things. I don’t have to remind you about her temper. She may have assumed that he would come back, hat in hand, and that they would work it out.”
“That’s exactly what I thought!” Kit exclaimed excitedly. “I told Elizabeth almost the same thing! When my husband and I were engaged, we had several big fights. It’s just such a stressful time. I don’t think most people realize that.”
“Did Reggie ever talk to you about the breakup?” I asked Nana, ignoring Kit.
Nana shook her head. “No. She pretended not to care, but I remember the day the workman came and took back her wedding arch. At that point we’d learned about the embezzlement, but she still burst into tears when it was loaded onto the truck. Her pride may not have allowed her to ever take him back, but that didn’t mean her heart wasn’t hurt.”
“I have to admit to you, Nana,” said Ann, “I’m worried that the police aren’t going to focus on anyone besides me. I wondered if
Nana considered for a moment. “Hang on,” she said and rose from her chair. She went to a built-in bookshelf on the far wall. “I still have my journals from back then.”
“You kept your journals? This long?” Ann asked in surprise. “Why?”
Nana shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Hard to say, really. But every time I try to get rid of them, I end up feeling like I’m throwing away those years. But maybe it’ll help us out today. Maybe I wrote something that could be useful.” I was impressed. The extent of my record keeping is what I throw into my purse. Meaning at any given time you can find scraps of paper with phone numbers scribbled on them but no helpful accompanying name and crumpled Starbucks receipts from two years ago.
After studying the shelves for a few minutes, Nana pulled out a thick leather volume and returned to her chair. Opening the book, she flipped to the week in question and read over her notes. “Hmmm…” she said, tapping a slender finger on the page, “I have here that after the party on the fourth, the family returned to the house in Georgetown on the fifth, as construction on the pool was scheduled to begin later that day. Oh, apparently though, your father and Bonnie had a fight on the night of the fifth because I have here that Bonnie returned to St. Michaels that night.”
“She left? The fight was that bad? Do you remember what the fight was about?” Ann asked.
“No. I’m sorry to say that fights between them were not uncommon. Depending on how bad they were, Bonnie usually took off for St. Michaels to pout for a day or so.” Nana looked back to the journal and read some more. As she did, her lips pulled into a frown and her brows pulled together.
“What is it?” asked Ann.
Nana didn’t answer right away; she seemed to be internally debating something. “I don’t know if I should say this,” she finally said. “Normally I wouldn’t, but given the circumstances…”
“What?” Ann asked impatiently.
“Well, I have a note here that when I went back to the St. Michaels house on the fifteenth to supervise the pickup of Reggie’s wedding arch, I found that Bonnie had had company. She’d left two wineglasses and an empty bottle of wine out on the back porch. Of course, it would never occur to her to clean up after herself.”
No one spoke at first. I knew what I was thinking: Bonnie had entertained a male visitor while away from Uncle Marty. I wondered if anyone else shared my view. “Do you think…” I began.
Nana tipped her white head in acknowledgment at my unfinished question. “I’m sorry to say that it wouldn’t surprise me. Neither of them was happy in that marriage. Your father had a mistress of sorts with his business. Bonnie was left largely bored and with a lot of free time. That’s never a good combination.”
Ann sat with a bewildered expression on her face. “Bonnie with another man? I guess it doesn’t surprise me, given her selfish personality, but she always made such a big production of adoring my dad.”
“That she did,” Nana said noncommittally.
