Chapter 22
THE APARTMENT IS BIGGER THAN I REMEMBER.
MAYBE BECAUSE I WAS so nervous meeting my father for the first time, I hadn’t noticed how spacious it was.
The dining room is sparkling with the chandelier and candlelight.
The long table is formally set with fresh flowers in the center.
A woman, middle-aged, hair in a bun, clothed in a white jacket, is busy in the kitchen.
Alex and I have arrived first. Sunny said she’d follow closer to dinnertime.
Liliana and a woman who resembles her, only a bit older, greet us in the living room. Liliana’s face is slightly puffy, and she takes a heavy breath before speaking. She’s reclining on a white sofa.
“So nice to see you again, Emma.” But there’s a crease between her brows that I didn’t notice last time I was here. “I’d have been up to the lake house, but the doctor has forbidden it.”
“I totally understand. You must be getting excited for the baby.”
“Yes. It feels like he’ll never get here. This is my sister, Beatrice.” Beatrice smiles and extends her hand.
Alex comes up behind me. “A drink, Emma?”
“Yes, please.”
The tension between Liliana, her sister, and Alex is palpable.
And I don’t blame them. Alex has spent more time at Cheshire Lake than in Boston the last couple of weeks, and he doesn’t seem to know or care that his wife isn’t happy about it.
And I feel guilty, like it’s my fault. But, no, I tell myself.
Alex has been at the lake because of Ruth and her loss, not because I’m there.
The doorbell rings and the woman in the chef’s coat escorts an older man into the living room.
Alex rises and hugs who I assume is his agent.
Barry Staunton has thick gray hair and heavy, dark-framed glasses that look too big for his narrow face.
He’s thin and dressed in a sport coat over a black turtleneck.
He bends and kisses Liliana’s cheek, shakes Beatrice’s hand.
“You’re lovely as ever, Liliana. How much longer?”
“Next month.” She shoots a sideways glance at Alex.
He turns to me. “And this must be the long-lost daughter.”
I feel my face redden as I extend my hand. “Emma Shrader.”
He clasps my hand in both of his. He looks at Alex. “She certainly looks like a Spencer.”
Alex claps him on the back. “She writes like one, too. I’ll get you a drink.”
“Great.” Barry turns and follows Alex over to the sideboard, where bottles of liquor stand. “No other love children from your past going to show up?”
“Jesus, I hope not,” Alex says, and they laugh.
I tug at my blouse. The heat seems to be on high in the apartment, and I thought pregnant women were always too warm. I feel blotches rise on my neck and try to cover them with my scarf. I glance down the hallway.
“May I use the powder room?” I ask Liliana.
“Down the hall. First door on the right.”
Inside, I shut the door, look at myself in the mirror.
I want to splash cold water on my face, but I also don’t want to mess up my makeup.
I know Sunny will arrive looking like she stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine, and while I want to think I don’t care, I do.
I don’t want to look washed out and dowdy next to her.
So, I stand still, take deep, cleansing breaths, and try to regain my composure.
I hear masculine laughter as I exit the powder room. Alex and Barry are coming out of Alex’s office.
“Emma, have a look at my new book. These came in a couple of weeks ago.”
Alex hands me a hardcover as we walk back to the living room. It’s heavy, and the dust jacket is slick with raised lettering.
“Murder Amongst Witches.” I read the title aloud. There’s a picture of a Puritan woman on the front, her hand over her face. The colors are dark, ominous, and the title is blood red.
“I think the cover turned out really nice,” Alex says. I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or to Barry.
Beatrice sits in a club chair next to Liliana’s sofa. She sips a glass of red wine. Her perturbed gaze follows Alex as he and Barry collapse into matching armchairs. I find a place on a white love seat that matches the sofa Liliana occupies, perch on the edge, book in my hands.
“I’ll have to take you out to Salem sometime, Emma,” Alex says. “Spooky place, although a bit touristy, especially near Halloween.”
“It sounds interesting. What happens in the book?”
Alex leans forward, sets his drink on the coffee table.
“You know the story of the Salem Witch Trials, of course. I added a murderer to the story, someone who decides to kill all the neighbors who’ve wronged him and blame it on witches.
” He sits back, crosses his long legs. “That’s not too far off what really happened.
The accusations were, for the most part, a way to punish, or even get rid of, your enemies. ”
“Don’t forget the family connection, Alex,” Barry says, eyebrows raised.
Alex laughs. “Yeah. I wonder, though, if readers will be intrigued or repulsed? Do we need to bring that up?”
“I vote we use it. The old genealogy freaks will be interested. Lots of older people in your fan base.”
“What’s the family connection?” I ask.
Alex drains his drink, sets the glass down with a clink on the glass-top coffee table.
“Well, in the course of my research, I did a little digging into the family tree. It turns out that a great-grandfather, I can’t remember now how many greats, was an accuser.
Helped send a few people to the gallows.
My father’s family goes back to the 1630s Bay Colony. ”
I sip my wine. “That’s interesting, unsettling, but interesting, I guess.”
“We can’t help what our ancestors did, Emma. It’s terrible, of course, but you can’t pick your relatives.”
The woman in the chef’s coat walks into the room. “Dinner is ready, Mrs. Spencer. Do you want me to serve?”
Beatrice helps Liliana to her feet. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.” Liliana glances at Alex. “Let’s get started.”
Alex checks his watch. “Sunny’s not here yet.”
Liliana purses her lips. “She knew what time we were having dinner. I don’t want everything to get cold.”
He shrugs, acquiesces. But before we all get seated at the long table, Sunny bursts through the front door.
“Sorry I’m late. Traffic was terrible, and I had to stop by my office.”
I sink into a plush dining chair and stay quiet, let Barry and Alex dominate the conversation.
They talk about people I don’t know and laugh heartily while the rest of us pick at our food.
Alex gets up and refills wine, while the woman in the chef’s coat keeps Liliana’s glass of sparkling water refreshed.
“How’s the tour planning?” Barry asks Sunny.
“Fine. We’ve got most of the dates set. We do have a little wiggle room at the beginning of November.” Sunny scrolls through her phone. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her without it, even here at a formal dinner. No one seems to notice.
“What about the baby?” Liliana asks, her voice strident.
Sunny huffs out a breath. “We’ve built in a week next month around the due date. Hopefully, he’ll come then.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Well, that would throw a monkey wrench into our plans, wouldn’t it?” The air between the women grows electric.
Alex clears his throat. “No need to get worked up about it, Sunny. We’ll deal with the baby when the time comes.”
“You couldn’t have planned a C-section?” Sunny smirks.
A disgusted yip comes from Beatrice.
Alex tips his head. “Now, Sunny, it will be fine. Alexander Junior will get here when he gets here. If we have to move around some event dates, I’m sure everyone will understand.”
“Fine,” Sunny says, and goes back to scrolling through her phone.
I sip my water. The heated conversation has my nerves jangling, and I just want to get through the evening. I had been excited about meeting Alex’s agent, wondering if he really would be interested in my manuscript, but now, I just want to go back to Cheshire Lake.
The air is tense among the women, as if a dark cloud has descended upon the apartment.
Liliana picks at her food, while Beatrice glares at Sunny, whose head is bowed over her phone.
Alex and Barry seem oblivious, the wine helping to keep them relaxed and jovial.
They speak in loud voices, laughing heartily.
“So, what’s the media attention been like out at the lake?” Barry asks.
The room falls silent. Sunny looks up from her phone. “It’s gotten more intense, but I hope they’ll wrap things up soon. We don’t need it to still be going on while we’re promoting the book.”
Barry nods, tents his fingers. “They really think the old guy was murdered?”
Alex sips his wine. “That’s what they’re saying—”
“And reporting,” Sunny says. “We really don’t need this.” She shoots a look at Alex.
“Can’t be helped,” he says, like they’re discussing a fender bender on the lake road.
“Did some vagrant wander through the neighborhood?” Barry asks.
“Possible,” Alex says. “Anyway, let’s not get too worried about that. Sunny and I weren’t there, so the Spencers are in the clear, Barry. No reason to get upset about it.”
Sunny glances in my direction, a smile tugging at her lips. That leaves me no doubt that they see me as an outsider and one of the murder suspects.
“Everything set for the big launch party?” Barry asks.
“Yes. Should be a great event,” Alex says, and smiles at Sunny.
Her dark eyes meet his over the glittering table. “You really think we should go ahead with it, Dad? With what’s happened at the lake?”
“Why not? We can always use good publicity, right? It would look bad if we canceled. And too many people are counting on it. Readers have already bought their tickets. They expect to see Alex Spencer and have their books signed.”
“Well, it’s not like you won’t have other releases.”
“This one is special. My twentieth book. I thought when we were planning last year, you thought it was a good idea to have a big launch event.”
“Fine.” Sunny bites her pink-painted lips and goes back to her phone.
Alex and Barry start talking excitedly about the event, draining glass after glass of wine. I concentrate on my meal and let the others talk over and around me.
After dinner, Liliana and Beatrice excuse themselves and head into another room and shut the door.
Sunny sits next to Alex in the living room, and they talk to Barry about people and things I have no knowledge of.
I feel like the proverbial fifth wheel and sip my wine, nod occasionally, and answer the few questions from Barry that come my way.
Nothing too intrusive, which is good, just polite questions about my hometown of Albany and how I like living at Cheshire Lake.
There is no mention of my novel and I’m fine with that. I just want this evening to end.
Then it dawns on me that if Alex decides to stay in town with his wife, he might send me back to the lake with Sunny.
That thought has me sweating. But then she stands and says that she needs to go home—to her own place here in Boston.
So, I’m either staying here in Alex’s apartment, or he’s returning to the lake house, or he has me drive his car back alone, which would be my preference.
It’s almost midnight when Barry leaves, still talking loudly, laughing, as Alex walks him to the door.
Alex turns to me. “It’s pretty late to start back to the lake, Emma. Let’s stay here tonight. There’s a guest room at the end of the hall. There should be everything you need in the attached bathroom. That work?”
“Yes, that’s fine.”
Despite the tension from the evening, I sleep well, falling quickly into a dark and dreamless slumber.
In the morning, I smell coffee and I hear voices ringing down the hall.
Not angry but definitely strained. By the time I shower and dress for the day, making do with the clothes I wore last night, no one is around except Alex, who’s sitting at the breakfast bar, laptop open.
“There’s coffee in the carafe,” he calls without looking up. “I’ll be ready to go in a half hour.”
“That’s fine. I’m ready whenever.”
Alex turns from his laptop. “I’ll run you up to the lake, check on Ruth. Then I’ll head back here for a few days.” He glances off down the hall, where I assume Liliana and her sister have gone.
“You don’t need to go back for me,” I say. “I can find a way to get back on my own. Uber or something.”
He waves a hand in the air, his eyes back on his screen.
“No big deal. I need to talk to Ruth. I know it looks like she’s handling everything like a pro—and she is really.
But this is hard on her. She and Simon were married over fifty years.
Besides, it’s just a little over an hour drive.
Not like we’re headed to Canada or anything. ”