Diane’s face glowed with eagerness. “…Laverne gives so much of herself. She is absolutely
Jimmy ate stolidly, his face drawn in a frown.
Evelyn ignored the conversation except for an occasional disdainful glance.
Obviously Kay hadn’t shared her information about Laverne and Ronald with Diane. I wondered if Kay had spoken yet with Laverne. But that could wait until later. At the moment, I was impatient to talk to Kay.
I dropped down beside her, bent to whisper in her ear. “Remain calm.”
Kay stiffened. Her expression became glazed.
“Meet me downtown at Lulu’s in twenty minutes.”
I took a last bite of hamburger as Kay slid onto the next stool. Providentially, the space was open, even though Lulu’s was at the height of the lunch crunch.
The waitress filled up my tea glass, cast a professional eye. “Dessert today?”
“Lulu’s special.” After my successful morning, I deserved fresh apple pie with melted Cheddar and a scoop of homemade vanilla.
“Coming up.” She glanced at Kay. “What’ll you have?”
“Key lime pie and coffee.”
When our desserts arrived, I forked flaky crust first.
Kay slid here eyes toward me. “Where have you been?”
She gave the distinct impression she would have been happier had I never reappeared. Fortunately, I wasn’t sensitive. “I had an instructive chat with Alison Gregory.”
Kay looked bored. “So Alison’s sinking her piranha teeth deeper into the Hume fortune. What else is new?”
“Not so fast. Evelyn wasn’t interested in a partnership, nor was Alison. Jack wanted Alison’s help. He made a special effort to be charming to her at The Castle one evening, asking her to describe some of the paintings to him.”
Kay looked puzzled. “Describe the paintings to him? Why? He was as much a connoisseur as Evelyn. Jack’s wife was an artist and they often spent time at galleries in Europe.”
I shrugged. “I suppose it was a way to be friendly with Alison. In any event, it wasn’t art that brought him to her gallery. He wanted to talk to Alison about Evelyn.”
As Kay listened to my report, her eyes widened and her fork with a mound of key lime pie remained on her plate. When I finished, she sat silent for a moment, then shook her head. “Paul was Jack’s best friend. Why did Jack lie to Paul about Evelyn planning to go into a partnership with Alison?”
“Maybe he didn’t. Maybe Alison Gregory lied.”
Kay looked efficient. “There’s a quick way to answer that.” She pulled out her cell, dialed. “Evelyn, this is Kay. I may have misunderstood Jack in a phone conversation before he died. We were talking about Gregory Gallery. Are you considering becoming a partner with Alison?” She listened, then said smoothly, “Actually, I was on my cell and there was static. He must have said something about you and Alison working so closely together in your art acquisitions, a real partnership.” She ate a bite of pie. “I understand. It’s a minor point, but I wanted to clear it up. Thank you.” She clicked off the cell. “Jack lied to Paul. Why?”
I hadn’t known Jack. I didn’t know how closely—or not—he hewed to truth, but there could be an explanation. “Paul and Jack were old friends, but would Jack necessarily want to discuss Evelyn with him? Instead, he made up a story to give Paul a reason for his curiosity.”
“I suppose.” Kay didn’t sound convinced. “The whole conversation seems off-kilter to me. Jack might dissemble with Paul if there was an important enough reason, but I don’t see Jack asking a woman he barely knew for advice about his family.”
“He’d been gone a long time. From all accounts, Evelyn and Alison are very close. There was real affection in her voice when she spoke of Evelyn.” I finished the last delicious scrap of apple pie. “We can be sure it’s never occurred to Alison that Jack was pushed or she wouldn’t have told me what Jack said about Evelyn.” I quoted, “‘My sister hates me. If she had the chance, I think she’d shoot me.’”
Kay shivered. “He must have sensed enormous anger on Evelyn’s part. She has a very strong personality. I think if she were angry, she’d be frightening.” Kay pushed away the rest of her pie. “No matter what we discover, I never feel that we are getting any closer to the reason Jack was killed. I don’t see how I’m going to find out who’s guilty. Even if I do, what do I do then?” Her voice was forlorn.
It was a surprise to see Kay discouraged. Possibly I should encourage her to give up. I looked into her dark eyes, filled with doubt and sadness. Where was the Kay who never met a challenge she wouldn’t take? No doubt she was weary. Her sleep must have been disjointed, what little she had achieved after the crash of the vase. But if she quit, she would always look back and feel that she had failed a man who had been a treasured, if troublesome, part of her life.
I weighed my choices: encourage Kay to leave Adelaide, thus keeping her safe, my prime responsibility, or urge her to fight the good fight, for herself and for the memory of a man she’d loved.
My lips parted.
Kay sat up straight, her eyes blazing. “I have to keep going. No matter what it takes, I’ll find out who’s guilty.”
Here was the Kay I’d come to respect. I didn’t even consider suggesting she leave the task to me. For her own
