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“If you want a quote for your column, call our publicity department.”
“Please, Maris,” Nadia said, leaning closer. “This is important. Call me.” She pressed a business card into Maris’s hand, then turned and walked quickly away. She had the decency not to lock eyes with Noah before she left.
He was the worst part of Maris’s endurance test.
She tried not to visibly flinch each time he came near her. Yet he seemed determined to be near her. At the reception following the funeral, he was never far from her side, often placing his arm around her shoulders, pressing her hand, demonstrating to their friends and associates a loving affection that was grossly false. The act would have been hilarious if it weren’t so obscene.
Dusk had fallen before the house cleared of guests. Maxine refused to retire to her room as Maris suggested and instead began supervising the caterers’ cleanup. That’s when Maris approached Noah. “I want to talk to you.”
“Certainly, darling.”
His ingratiating manner set her teeth on edge. He was thoroughly repugnant. It seemed that the two years she had shared a home, a bed with him had happened to another woman in another time. She couldn’t fathom doing so now.
Her only saving grace, her only reasonable excuse, was that he was an excellent role player. He was an adroit liar. She and Daniel had fallen for an act he had perfected.
“You can drop the pretense, Noah. No one’s around except Maxine, and she already knows that I’ve left you.”
She led him into her father’s study. The room smelled of him and of his pipe tobacco. It smelled of his brandy and the books he had loved. The room evoked such poignant memories for her, it was claustrophobic and comforting at the same time.
She sat down in the large tufted leather chair behind Daniel’s desk. It was the closest she could come to being hugged by him. She had spent the past four nights curled up in this chair, weeping over her loss between brief and restless naps in which she dreamed of Parker moving ever farther away from her as she screamed his name. No matter how desperately she tried to touch him, he was always beyond her reach. She would wake herself up sobbing over the dual loss.
Noah pinched up the creases of his dark suit trousers and lowered himself into an easy chair. “I had hoped your second visit south had mellowed you, Maris. You’re as prickly as you were before you left.”
“Dad’s death didn’t change anything between us. Nor did it change your character. You’re a liar and an adulterer.” She paused a beat before adding, “And possibly those are the least of your sins.”
His eyes sharpened. “What does that mean?”
She opened the lap drawer of Daniel’s desk and took out a business card. “I came across this in Dad’s day planner while I was looking up addresses for acknowledgment cards. It’s an innocuous card with a scarcity of information on it. Only a name and telephone number. Curious, I called. Imagine my surprise.”
He stared at her, saying nothing, then indolently raised his shoulders in silent inquiry.
“I spoke personally to the man Dad had retained to investigate you,” she told him. “Mr. Sutherland conveyed his sympathy over Dad’s passing. Then I asked him how his business card had found its way into Dad’s day planner. He was very discreet, extremely professional, and finally apologetic.
r /> “Ethically, he couldn’t discuss another client’s business, even a late client’s. However, he said, if I had access to Dad’s files, he was sure I’d find his report among them. If I wished to continue the investigation that wasn’t yet complete, he would welcome me as a client and offered to apply the advance Dad had paid him to my account.”
She spread her arms across the top of the desk. “I’ve searched for the mentioned report, Noah. It’s not here. Not in any of Dad’s files here, or at the office, not in the personal safe upstairs in his bedroom closet, or in his safe-deposit box at the bank.
“Coincidentally, you spent time in here the morning before you left for the country. While Dad was upstairs packing some last-minute items, you told Maxine that you had calls to make and came in here, ostensibly to use the telephone. You closed the door behind you. She thought it odd at the time, since you typically use your cell phone, but she thought no more about it. Not until I asked her if you’d been snooping around in Dad’s personal things that day.”
He shook his head and laughed softly. “Maris, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I might have come in here that morning. Frankly, I don’t remember if I did or not. But since when is this room off limits to me? From the time we began dating, I’ve been in this room hundreds of times. When I make private calls I usually close the door. Everybody does. If this is about Nadia—”
“It isn’t,” she said tersely. “I don’t give a damn about Nadia or anyone else you sleep with.”
He gave her a look that said he seriously doubted that. She wanted to strike him, to pound the conceit out of his expression. “I also spoke to the authorities in Massachusetts.”
“My, my, you’ve been a busy girl.”
“I questioned their ruling that Dad’s death was accidental.” She hadn’t struck him physically, as she would have liked to. All the same, her statement rid him of a measure of arrogance. His smile grew a little stiff, as though it had congealed. His spine straightened. “Honoring my request, they’ve agreed to reinvestigate. This time they’ll be looking for evidence.”
That brought him to his feet. “Evidence of what?”
“We have an appointment with Chief of Police Randall tomorrow to discuss their findings,” she informed him coldly. “I suggest you be there.”
* * *
The burg’s police department had a staff of six—one chief, four patrolmen, and a clerk who also served as dispatcher and official town gossip. The department handled minor emergencies such as broken-down snowplows and lost pets, parking tickets when tourists passing through stayed too long in an antique shop, and an occasional DUI.
By big-city standards, the gossip wasn’t all that scandalous. It might revolve around who had recently gone to New York City for a face-lift, who was selling their country house to a movie star who futilely wished to remain anonymous, and who had checked their daughter-gone-wild into drug rehab after a tempestuous family intervention. Residents could safely leave their homes and cars unlocked because thefts were rare.
