Dark Tort

something he’d given to a young lover—say, Dusty? Or what if you flipped things upside down? Maybe doesn’t-like- birthdays Uriah Sutherland had poked a little too hard in the wrong place, been discovered, and been forced to destroy the evidence—that is, Dusty.

“Let me get it,” Julian said, his voice edgy. Without looking at Nora, he handed me the box, which was, I was quite sure, about twenty pounds lighter than the trash bag.

“And oh!” Nora said, as if she’d just remembered it. “Your gratuity!” She reached into her purse and pulled out four twenty-dollar bills, which she tucked into one of my hands that was holding the box. With a smile and a wave, she walked back into the living room.

“What’s that, about a thirty percent tip?” Julian asked. “Fantastic!”

“Yes,” I said quietly. “It’s great. But listen, I want you to put that trash in your Rover. And put any other trash in there that’s outside in their cans.”

“What?” Julian cried.

“Just do it. With hired help taking out the garbage on a regular basis, they’ll never miss it.”

Once we were all settled in the not-smelling-too-great Rover, Julian said, “I’m going to back out, and then you can take it the rest of the way, okay?”

“Sure,” said Arch, who sounded none too sure.

Unfortunately, Julian was unable to make even a five-point turn to get us going forward. “You want to back down the driveway, Arch? The house is on a dead end. You’ll be fine.”

“I’m not so sure,” I began, but received a furious look from Arch.

Julian and Arch exchanged seats. Arch, unaware the car was on, turned the key in the ignition. The engine shrieked.

“Happens to everybody,” Julian said from the backseat.

Stay calm, I told myself, very calm. I closed my eyes and did a yoga breathing exercise while Julian quietly told Arch that he’d have to take the Rover straight back, then gradually turn to the left, so he could make it into the street.

“Wait!” Julian said sharply. “Somebody’s coming.”

It was Donald Ellis. He was a little out of breath.

“I wanted to thank you all for doing such a great job,” he said. “I had a fabulous birthday. Here.” He pressed a hundred-dollar bill into my hand.

“Mr. Ellis, your wife has already tipped us, and that is far too much—” I began. But he was already gone.

“Can we go now?” Arch asked. His voice was so nervous I wasn’t sure he really wanted to drive, but there was no way I was going to embarrass him in front of his half brother and Julian.

I looked in the rearview mirror on the passenger side. “Sure. Give it a little gas.”

Arch began to inch down the driveway, tapping the brakes every two seconds in the way of new drivers, giving all of us in the car whiplash.

I frowned at the mirror, and realized we were up so high in the Rover that I couldn’t see exactly where the driveway was. Since the very last thing I wanted was to whack into Nora Ellis’s carefully planted fruit trees, I opened my door a smidgeon.

“Okay,” I said encouragingly, my heart light from having received two big tips. “Give it just a teensy bit more gas.”

Which is what Arch did. In fact, he gave the Rover a rather large bit of gas, with the big SUV still in reverse. This sent it catapulting into the Ellises’ serpentine wall, which tore off the open passenger-side door.

CHAPTER 15

I raised Tom on his cell. He had been investigating another case nearby, and could be at the Ellises’ house within fifteen minutes. He told us he would call a tow truck, because he knew a guy who would respond right away. I thanked him profusely.

“And see what Julian’s schedule is like,” Tom added. “If he can stay with us until the department cleans up this murder, so much the better.”

“You mean, because it’ll take forever to get the door replaced? Or do you think our family is in danger?”

“Neither,” Tom replied calmly. “But we’ve got a lead on who tried to hit Vic out in our street, and I just want as many folks in the house as possible, to watch each other’s backs. Plus, if you’re going back to do any cooking for that law firm, I don’t want you alone.”

I exhaled, thanked him again, and signed off. Then I checked out the serpentine wall. That thing must have been made of concrete, because it was completely unharmed. Thank the Lord for small favors.

As if he’d heard Tom discussing him, Vic Zaruski came ambling down the driveway. His smile was wide. “Mr. Ellis just gave me a hundred-dollar tip! Man, I want to come back here! They’ve got a Steinway that nobody plays. What the—” He was staring at the Rover door, which was lying halfway across the driveway, where it had landed. Then he looked up at our foursome: Julian, Arch, Gus, and yours truly. Vic’s grin returned. “Somebody is screwed!”

Arch and Gus were still young enough that any untoward use of profanity could send them into paroxysms of laughter.

“Vic, please. Not in front of the kiddies.”

“You should sue Rover,” Vic said, his voice suddenly serious. “A door shouldn’t come off like that, you know?”

“Well,” Julian commented, “help is on the way. And I don’t think Rover would pay for someone backing into a wall.”

“Julian,” I began for at least the fourteenth time, “I am so so so sorry—”

“No, it was my fault,” Arch said. He’d been alternately apologetic and upset since we’d all hollered for him to “Stop!” This in turn had sent me backward, then rocketing forehead-first into the dashboard. I fingered the spot gently; the bruise was already swelling. I wanted to think about something, anything, besides Arch driving. Or not driving, as the case might be.

“It was my fault, Arch,” I said with a finality that I hoped would close the argument.

Gus said, “This is just like what my grandfather is always saying.” Gus lowered his voice. “‘Take responsibility, Gus. That’s what no one does these days. Take responsibility!’”

“I’m going to run inside,” Julian said. “You need to get some ice on that forehead, Goldy.” The very last thing I wanted was to bother the Ellises, and have them come out here. But Julian was already racing up the driveway. I prayed that he would meet Lorraine, who would help him out.

“Vic,” I said lightly. “Your playing was great. I love those old sixties songs. You did a marvelous job.”

He blushed to the roots of his tightly curled straw-colored hair. “Why, thanks.” Then his face turned glum. He shook his head.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“Oh, I used to hope that, you know…” He looked into the street, as if thinking about what he used to hope.

Gus and Arch had moved into Woods’ End, where they were throwing a Frisbee that had popped free from Julian’s storage area behind their seat. So with just Vic and me in the driveway, I wondered if he’d talk to me a bit about Dusty. About why he threw a diamond ring through the window of Aspen Meadow Jewelers. About what he had hoped.

“No,” I said, my voice low. “I don’t know.”

To my great surprise, as well as Vic’s, I imagine, tears spilled out of his eyes. He muttered another profanity and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. I pulled a tissue out of my pants pocket and handed it to him. Julian still hadn’t returned, and the boys were yelling and racing back and forth as they tossed the Frisbee.

I said, “Vic, is there something you want to say to me?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. He searched in his pockets and brought out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. “Mind if I smoke? Think the Ellises will mind?”

“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” I said, although I was sure of no such thing. Still, some folks’ tongues were loosened