there’s any link to the law firm.” His shoulders lifted and fell. “Sure, I’ll talk to Glen if you want. I will leave no stone unturned.” He hung up, popped to his feet, sheathed the putter.
On his way out of the office, he turned a thumbs-up to another stanza of “I Keep On Lovin’ You.” “Check it in for the day, Barb. Go to the beach and take a wave for me.” The surf was usually mild on Broward’s Rock unless a storm was coming, but this afternoon the tide would be high, so there might be some decent waves. Maybe he and Annie could take a picnic to the beach. Mmmm, Annie in a gold bikini, smooth soft skin glistening with SPF coconut oil, the best of both worlds, protection married to scent. He walked faster.
Elaine Jamison was fair like her brother with the same deep-set blue eyes and high-bridged nose and pointed chin. She welcomed Annie warmly, though there was sadness in her eyes. “You’re wonderful to set up a memorial for Pat. I should have thought of it but I haven’t been myself.” Her voice trailed away as she led the way into the small living room of the cottage. The room was cheerful with a red upholstered sofa and easy chair and red curtains at the windows. A tall pottery vase on a side table held fresh red hollyhocks.
Elaine gestured at the easy chair. “I’m so glad you’ve come. Would you like iced tea? It’s fresh.”
In a moment, they sat opposite each other, a low stone coffee table between them. Annie squeezed lemon into the tumbler, enjoyed the scent of fresh mint. “I know Pat’s death has been a shock. She hadn’t been working at Death on Demand long but we liked her and I wanted to make a contribution in her name to the Red Cross. I understand she went down to Florida to be a volunteer after that last hurricane.”
“Of course I’ll help.” Elaine rose and went to a small desk in the corner. She quickly wrote a check and brought it back to Annie. “Thank you for remembering me.” She picked up her glass, then set it down without drinking. “I know it’s silly, but I think it’s even harder for me because I talked to her Friday evening. She called to ask if I found my present on my front porch. My birthday’s next week. She had dropped off a Doreen Tovey book. Pat had been after me to get a new cat. Bongo died two months ago and I didn’t think I was ready to get a new cat. But the Tovey books reminded me how much I love Siamese even though they are always impossible. Bongo”—she smiled and gestured at a strip of carpet installed on the wall next to a window—“spent most of his time climbing up to rest on the valance.” Her smile faded. “Pat sounded upbeat, kind of excited. We planned on having lunch the next day. I settled in with the book and laughed and laughed. I had such a happy evening, thanks to Pat. I laughed and Pat was dying.” Tears streamed down her face. “Excuse me.” She jumped up and left the room for a moment, then came back, scrubbing her face. “I’m sorry.”
Annie reached out, touched her arm. “She would be happy to know the book made you laugh.” She looked inquiring. “Pat sounded excited? Do you know why?”
“She was going to take an Alaska cruise. She went on and on about how wonderful the cruise was going to be. I’m glad she was happy that last night.” Elaine’s voice was subdued. She reached for the pitcher. “Would you like more tea?”
“No, thank you.” Annie opened her purse, dropped Elaine’s check in a side pocket. “Pat would appreciate your remembering her. You’d been friends for a long time.”
“She was a rock after Maddy died. Pat could be prickly, but she was loyal and kind. I think that’s why she was so upset after Glen fired her.” Elaine’s eyes looked stricken. “I don’t know how he could have done it. Oh well.” Her tone was bitter. “I do know. It’s that woman he married. She causes trouble for everyone, but Glen won’t hear a word against her. Now his home is a cold and angry place. He’s at odds with the children. Laura can’t help it that she lost her job. Everybody’s been getting fired. Unemployment’s awful. All kinds of people with college degrees don’t have jobs. Of course, Laura came home. Would Glen want her out on the street? That’s where she’d be if Cleo had her way. Sure, Laura’s unhappy. It’s humiliating to lose your job and not be able to find one. She’s sent out resumes everywhere. It doesn’t help matters that she and Kirk Brewster were getting to be friends. Of course, he’s stopped coming around now. Glen knew about them. That makes booting out Kirk even worse. So Laura’s mad and Kirk is mad and Kit is mad, too. I’m just sick about Kit. Going to Africa means everything to her, but Cleo has poisoned Glen’s mind, said Kit should have to pay her own way. If Kit can’t turn in the money by next week, she’ll lose the chance for the internship. Maybe it’s worst of all about Tommy. He shouldn’t have to go away to school. Everybody knows how boys can be hazed at military academies. He’s on the high school football team and so excited about their chances next fall. Maddy would be heartbroken. When I try to talk to him, Glen looks beaten down. He won’t meet my eyes. It reminds me of when he was little. Our dad was . . . stern. When Glen got in trouble, he’d promise anything to keep Dad from getting mad. Glen”—she looked at Annie with a plea in her eyes —“wants to do the right thing. He really does. But Cleo—” Elaine pressed the tips of long thin fingers against her temples. “Oh, I’m sorry. Please forgive me, Annie. You didn’t come to hear all my troubles. I didn’t mean to get started about the family, but everything’s been difficult lately. And to have Pat die so unexpectedly is awful.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t bear the thought that she killed herself because she lost her job. Glen’s really upset.”
Annie took an instant to answer. Billy hadn’t enjoined her and Henny to silence. If Billy learned that Annie was saying Pat had been murdered, well, so be it. “I understand the question of how she died isn’t settled. There’s reason to think she didn’t commit suicide.”
Elaine clasped her hands together. “I’m relieved to hear that and Glen will be, too. I heard she died from a drug overdose. Was it an accident?”
Annie was firm. “That doesn’t seem likely either.”
Elaine looked puzzled. “What happened?”
Annie picked her words carefully. “Someone may have had coffee with her the night she died and put the drug in Pat’s cup.”
Elaine drew in a sharp breath. Her eyes widened. “On purpose?” Her voice was hushed. “Are you saying that Pat was murdered?”
“Yes.”
Incredulity warred with shock. “That can’t be true. Pat didn’t have an enemy in the world.”
“Mr. Darling.” The pretty, dark-haired girl gave him a bright smile. “Mr. Jamison can see you now.” She held open the swinging gate to the inner office and started to turn.
“Thanks. I know the way.” Max moved past her and into a corridor. The law firm of Jamison, Jamison, and Brewster was quartered in a one-story building shaped like a T, the reception area in the crossbar, the offices and conference rooms in the vertical bar. He walked up the hall to the third door on the left, tapped, and pushed the door in.
Glen Jamison came around his desk, hand outstretched. His face, always pale, looked weary with bluish shadows beneath his eyes. Max wondered if he had been ill.
They shook hands and Glen waved Max toward a comfortable brown leather chair.
