his chair and turned his attention back to Bonnie. He was not going to waste any more time trying to charm me, for which I was grateful. Frankly, I don’t think my nose could take it.
Julian and Bonnie went out for dinner that night. Ann and I opted to eat in—not that we were asked to join them, of course, and not that we would have even if we were asked. With their departure, Ann and I settled into our routine of the past week. We cooked a simple dinner (grilled chicken, squash, brown rice) and took our plates out onto the back patio. The night was almost cool (that previously mentioned breeze from either the north or south having picked up) and the stars stood out with unusual intensity. If it weren’t for the lingering scent of Julian’s cologne, it might have all seemed a very bad dream. Bonnie was absolutely besotted with the man and clearly had every intention of handing over the entire contents of her bank account to him for “handling.” As a grown woman (at least according to her birth certificate), she had every right to make all the idiotic decisions she wanted to. However, as she was still holding on to the proceeds from the sale of the St. Michaels house, I very much doubted that Julian’s role of financial adviser would go uncontested by the rest of the family.
“Can you believe this?” Ann asked, as she angrily speared a piece of chicken. “It’s bad enough that I’ve got to deal with a murder investigation, but then Bonnie decides to bring home some greasy boy toy who not only ‘sees auras’ but smells like he’s been marinating in gigolo juice! Have you ever smelled anything so god-awful in your life?”
I laughed. “No, but I imagine that cologne is restricted to a very elite clientele, clientele obviously lacking in olfactory cells.”
“I can’t imagine the ingredients in that concoction are legal.” Ann rolled her eyes in disgust. “But in any case, it’s not the sort of scent you’d expect from your money investor.”
“Speaking of which, what are we going to do about that? We can’t allow Bonnie to give him access to her accounts. He’ll drain them dry!”
“I know. I know,” Ann said with a shake of her head. “But short of having her committed, I don’t know what we can do.”
“Have you called Reggie and Frances and brought them up to date?”
“Yes. We’re going to meet for dinner tomorrow night. I want to talk to them both before they come here. I don’t think they completely understand the severity of the situation. I don’t think anyone really
I nodded. “The smell alone will tip them off.”
It was late by the time Bonnie and Julian returned. Ann made a point of staying up until they got home so she could make sure that Julian at least began the night in the second guest bedroom. “I’ll be damned if I’ll let her take that man into her bedroom,” she said. “All that oil in his hair will ruin the good sheets.”
Bonnie made no objection to the arrangement, a factor I took as a good sign. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to knock some sense into her silly head. Once Julian retired for the night (after making a big show of gallantly kissing Bonnie’s hand), Bonnie followed Ann and me into the kitchen. Pouring herself a glass of white wine, she settled herself at the kitchen counter and said, “So how are the plans coming for Marty’s party?”
Ann turned and contemplated her stepmother in horrified disbelief. “The party? Well, gee, Bonnie, I haven’t really had time to do anything about that. I’ve been rather busy, you know?”
Bonnie’s blue eyes opened in surprise. “Busy? Doing what?”
Ann let out a strangled laugh. “A great deal, actually. I’ve been cataloging and organizing everything Dad mentioned in his will, not to mention dealing with the police.”
Bonnie shrugged. Never having had to organize anything beyond her shoes, she didn’t see the problem. “Well, I would still like to have it. I think Saturday would be perfect.”
Ann gaped at her. “Saturday? This Saturday?” Bonnie nodded. “But it’s already Thursday! I can’t possibly put together a memorial party in just two days!”
“Oh, Annabel, I’m sure Elizabeth here will help you. Besides, as I’ve always told you, you can do whatever you put your mind to.” Bonnie lifted the wineglass in a toast to Ann and took a large sip.
Ann turned to me, her expression one of incredulous fury. While I don’t confess to an ability to read minds, I nevertheless had a pretty good idea what Ann would do right now if, as Bonnie suggested, she just put her mind to it. And while it was true that Ann could always count on me, I didn’t think assault and verbal battery was our best course of action right now.
“I’d be happy to help,” I said quickly, hoping to forestall the outburst I saw forming in Ann’s head. “Ann and I will get started on that now. Bonnie, you must be exhausted. Why don’t you go to bed and let us get started with the plans? We can tell you all about it in the morning.”
Bonnie slumped a little in her seat and nodded. “It
Next to me, Ann’s mouth began to twist and curl in an apparent effort to prevent herself from screaming. “Exactly,” I said. “You should get to bed. Ann and I can handle this. You’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep.”
Bonnie took another sip of her wine before setting the glass on the counter. “You’re probably right. Let me know what I can do to help,” she said to Ann, as she slid out of her chair and scooped up Scarlett. “Julian and I have lunch plans and after that I’m taking him sightseeing. But I should be around later. I think. It really depends on what Julian wants to do.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ann said through clenched teeth.
With a backward wave of her hand, Bonnie floated out of the kitchen, Scarlett tucked under her arm.
“She’s—” Ann began, but I cut her off.
“Yes, she is. And more. But there’s no point wasting your breath about it. She is what she is. We’ll call everyone and tell them to be here at five on Saturday. We’ll get some steaks and wine and do a cookout. That will be the easy part. The hard part will be convincing her not to hand over all the money to Julian.”
“Is there anything we can do legally?” Ann asked.
“Short of having her ruled incompetent by the courts, I’m not sure.”
“Well, I’m sure as hell going to find out. I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit by and let her drain everything my father worked for just so she can hand it over to that gigolo.”
“Don’t worry. That won’t happen. I promise,” I said.
Chapter 19
You ought certainly to forgive them as a Christian, but never to admit them in your sight, or allow their names to be mentioned in your hearing.
After Ann went to bed, I called Aunt Winnie and brought her up to date on the latest events. When I got to the part about Julian and the money, she began to curse. Spectacularly. Brilliantly. Like the dad in
“I don’t know yet. But I’m coming down tomorrow. Let me book a flight. I’ll call you later with the details.”
My next call was to Peter. While the essence of his reaction to hearing about Bonnie was essentially the same as Aunt Winnie’s (shock, disgust, concern), it was not nearly as vulgar. “Well, my flight gets in Saturday afternoon,” he said. “I don’t know what I can do, but I’ll be there for you.”
“That’s all I need.”
We talked for several minutes more, but the points of
