“You don’t know? He was the best man at your wedding. I would think when he left the reception, he might say goodbye and mention where he was headed.” Alex’s face was dark with anger. “Jill, ever since we sat down for this interview, you and your lawyer have been dumping all over me because I’m trying to do my job. You say you’re innocent. Then let me hear the truth. No more lies. No more evasions.”
“I’m not lying,” Jill said. “I haven’t seen Felix since… since before I went outside to have that cigarette.”
“Nobody knows; nobody tells,” Alex said, seemingly to himself. “What hotel is he staying at?”
“The Saskatchewan,” Jill said.
“A straight answer. Thank you very much.” Alex raised his hand in dismissal. “You can leave now.”
Bryn was with her aunts at the top of the staircase that curved to the main floor. The three women formed a provocative triptych. Shoulders squared, jaw set, Claudia MacLeish was stoic. Bryn, too, was composed, but tears ran down her cheeks as if somewhere inside her there was a well of sorrow that could not be stilled. Tracy’s woe was unrestrained. Hands cupped over her eyes, she sobbed with such intensity that her slender body seemed to convulse. Her suffering might have touched a stranger, but we “Magictown” aficionados had caught Tracy’s act before. The cupped hands and the sobs were tipoffs that, once again, the Broken Wand Fairy’s powers had failed her.
If I had had magical powers, I would have made all three women disappear, but like the Broken Wand Fairy, I was mired in the real world. All I could do was watch as Jill ran to Bryn, clasped the girl’s bare shoulders, and assessed her anxiously. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Bryn said. The tears were still flowing, but her words did not suggest deep and abiding grief. “I’m glad he’s dead,” she said.
Jill drew the girl to her. “Shh…,” she murmured. “You mustn’t say that.”
Bryn broke away. “Why not? It’s true. It’s not like I haven’t told you a million times that I hated him.” She whirled to face her aunts. “I told you too. He deformed my life, and nobody did anything about it. Now somebody has. Just don’t expect me to be a hypocrite like everybody else.”
It was a situation that demanded quick and deft handling, and Kevin Hynd supplied it. “We haven’t met,” he said, extending his hand to Bryn. “I’m Jill’s lawyer. Since you’re her stepdaughter now, I’m going to give you some legal advice.”
Bryn took his hand warily. “What’s the advice?”
“Put a sock in it,” Kevin said equitably. “There are cops hanging off the rafters here. If you want to rant, wait for a change of venue.”
“I’m not leaving Jill,” Bryn said quickly.
“You don’t have to,” Jill said. “We’ll figure something out.”
“Stay with us,” I said and immediately regretted the invitation. I would have shared a pup-tent with Jill, but the idea of having Bryn at close quarters was not appealing. I didn’t like her, and Angus’s readiness to leave the reception suggested I wasn’t the only one who suspected his goddess had feet of clay.
“Finally, a decision.” Claudia shifted into full take-charge mode. “Let’s move,” she said. “The only thing that calms Tracy down when she’s this hysterical is one of her pills and a massage, and these healing hands of mine won’t be able to do their job unless they’ve spent some time wrapped around a big glass of Johnny Walker. Bryn can pick up her stuff when you drop us off at the hotel.”
Bryn’s eyes widened. “No,” she said. “I’m not going back there. Just pack up my things and send them to Joanne’s in a taxi.”
Claudia frowned. “If that’s what you want…”
“It is,” Bryn said.
“And that’s it?” Tracy’s voice was jagged. “After seventeen years, you just walk out of my life?”
“Oh please,” Bryn said. “Like you care about anybody but you.”
Jill turned to Claudia and Tracy. “She’s had a lot to deal with today.”
Claudia made no attempt to hide her exasperation. “Bryn, I may not have done enough, but I did the best I could.” She gestured towards Tracy. “So did she.”
“Bite me!” Bryn snapped, then flew down the spiral staircase. I watched her, surprised and oddly heartened. For the first time since I’d met Bryn, I knew I had heard her true voice. It wasn’t pretty, but it was authentic. As she disappeared into the lobby, I found myself hoping that despite everything that had been done to her, the bouncy egotism of the seventeen-year-old would get Bryn through.
When we came in, Taylor was lying on the hall floor with her head on Willie’s side, gazing at the angels suspended from the flocked tips of her tree. The invisible music box was still playing “The Way We Were.” As I listened to its endless, tinny repetitions, I knew I had discovered a fresh circle of hell.
The blast of cold air from the open door roused Taylor from her reverie. “Is the party over?” she asked, looking up at us.
“Yes,” Jill said. “It’s over – big time.”
Kevin had gravitated towards Angels Among Us. “Serious foliage,” he said.
Taylor bobbed her head in agreement. “Do you know who all the angels are?”
Kevin perused the tree carefully and nodded. “Every last one.”
“They’re all dead,” Taylor said. “But look at the card.”
Kevin put on his wire-rimmed glasses and read. “It’s true,” he said. “The great ones never really die.”
Angus loped down the stairs and took in the scene. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“Let’s go up to your room,” Bryn said. “I don’t feel like talking about this in front of everybody else.”
“If you want privacy, you can use the family room,” I said. “Nobody’s in there.”
Bryn glared at me, but my son shot me a look of relief. “Good plan. My room’s pretty much of a slag heap.”
After Angus and Bryn left, I turned to Jill and Kevin. “Slag heap or living room?”
“Normally I’m a slag heap man,” Kevin said. “But this is a professional visit.”
I didn’t remember a chapter in Ms. Manners’ book of etiquette that covered entertaining a friend who was a murder suspect and her lawyer, but I did my best. As we walked into the living room, I turned on lights, flicked on the gas fireplace, and made the hostess’s offer. “What can I get you?” I asked. “Coffee? A drink? It’s the holiday season, so I’m well stocked.”
“Actually,” Jill said. “What I’d like is a joint.”
“Can’t help you there,” I said.
“I can,” Kevin said. “As long as Joanne doesn’t mind.”
“Joanne doesn’t mind.” I said. “It’s for medicinal purposes.”
Kevin pulled a baggie out of his pocket, rolled an expert joint, and handed it to Jill. He rolled a second one and offered it to me.
I shook my head. Kevin shrugged, touched the tip of the joint with a lit match, and sucked deeply. Beaming like a benevolent Buddha, he leaned back in his chair. “Truth-telling time,” he said. “And, Joanne, I know how this sounds, but I think it would be better if you left.”
Jill started to protest, but I cut her off. “Kevin’s right,” I said. “What you tell him is covered by lawyer-client privilege, but what you tell me is fair game. Besides, Taylor and I are at a critical juncture in Little Women. Beth is just about to leave this vale of sorrow, suffering, and tears.”
Jill inhaled and gave me a half-smile. “I love that part. Beth always made my fillings ache.”
Apparently Taylor shared Jill’s opinion of the saintliest March sister. When Beth breathed her last, Taylor rolled over with a satisfied sigh and fell into a sound sleep. I turned off the light thinking Claudia’s idea of a super- sized Johnny Walker had much to recommend it. Willie had other plans. He was waiting on the threshold of Taylor’s room, and he leapt to attention as soon as he saw me. It was well past time for his after-dinner walk, and as I followed him down the stairs, his tail stump wagged with anticipation. Once again, the universe was unfolding as it should. I hadn’t made it much past the landing when Angus caught up with me. “I can take Willie,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said. “But if you want to stay with Bryn…”
Angus lowered his voice, “Actually, Mum, I’d kind of like to get out of here for a while.”
“Situation getting a little intense?” I said.
He shook his head in bemusement. “It’s not intense at all.”
“Bryn did tell you about what happened to her father?”
