Chapter 34
THE BOSTON VENUE IS HUGE AND GLITTERING.
SOFT MUSIC PLAYS over the sound system, and a large crowd has gathered.
Drinks are available at a small bar in the corner, and tables of finger foods line one wall.
I’ve been to author events in the past, but nothing like this.
But Alex is a big star in the literary world.
He told me it was going to be a fairly extravagant event as these things go, so I wore my blue dress.
The same one I wore to Simon’s memorial get-together.
It’s the only dress I’ve got. Ruth is wearing a navy-blue skirt and white blouse with two ropes of pearls.
Her silver hair shines. She looks elegant, like someone’s wealthy, socialite mother.
Alex is wearing a dark suit and blood-red tie, as if to match the book cover, which is projected on a massive screen over the stage. “Murder Amongst Witches,” the title, glows at the top of the screen, followed by: “An Evening with Alex Spencer.”
There’s a table in the lobby where guests are checked in.
It’s a ticketed event. A long line of men and women of all ages snakes around to the double front doors.
Alex is already in the main room mingling with attendees, a big smile on his face.
The weariness in his visage that had been in evidence lately seems to have disappeared.
Looking at him tonight, you’d never know that anything could possibly be wrong in his world.
A reporter, handpicked by Sunny, trails him, snapping photos and taking notes.
Ruth and I stand in a corner, holding a glass of wine each.
Larry is busy at the food tables, piling his plate with shrimp and caviar and toast points.
This must’ve cost a fortune. Alex said that it is sponsored by a local bookstore and his favorite restaurant.
But he also said that he made a generous donation to the cause as well.
Sunny is patrolling the room, checking that all is running smoothly.
Her pale hair is free of its ponytail for a change and cascades in waves down her back.
Her makeup looks professionally done, but there’s an uncharacteristic pucker in her brow, which she smooths when greeting people she obviously knows.
Then there are chaste pecks and smiles. Everything looks like the exciting event that Alex was pushing for.
No sign of any consternation, except on Sunny’s face when she thinks no one is looking.
Barry corners Ruth and me, his dark-framed glasses dominating his narrow face.
“Emma! Glad to see you again. Did Alex tell you?”
“Um, what?” I stammer like an idiot.
“I read the first part of your novel. Really good.” He seems to bounce on his heels.
“Oh, yes. Thank you so much. He said that he sent it to you. I really appreciate you taking a look at it.”
He taps me on the arm, as if in a parting gesture as his gaze shoots across the room to Alex, who is talking with two young women. Alex casually touches the blonde’s shoulder and both women giggle and smile.
“Send me the rest, Emma, when you get a chance,” Barry says, and walks off toward Alex.
“Isn’t this exciting?” Ruth says. “Alex told me that Barry really liked your book. Wouldn’t it be something to have two authors in the family?”
I feel dizzy. The room is too warm, too crowded. “Yes,” I say.
Larry joins us, balancing his overburdened plate and a glass of beer. “Food’s great,” he says around a mouthful.
A woman in a red dress approaches the podium and the music stops. She introduces herself and thanks the sponsors, her smile wide.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats. Our program is getting ready to begin.” People discard their plates, quickly refill drinks to take with them. Ruth, Larry, and I sit in the back and watch as everyone settles, which takes several minutes. The lights go down as if to hurry people along.
The woman in red adjusts the microphone, pushes back her dark bobbed hair.
“We are pleased to see so many of you here tonight. Thank you so much for coming out on a cold autumn evening. Sit back and enjoy the internationally bestselling author, Boston’s own, Alex Spencer.
” She steps aside and the room echoes with applause.
Alex jumps up the two steps to the stage, smiles, and waves.
He seems to have the energy and verve of a twentysomething.
My father is totally in his element. So different from me.
Just being a guest at this event has me shrinking back, fussing with the neckline of my dress as if it might smother me. I think of Mary. Am I more like her?
Alex plunges into the story of his new book, what inspired him, how the setting helped tell the story.
He’s funny and interesting and the audience is captivated, willing to follow him anywhere.
I’ve heard author talks before, but Alex is mesmerizing, the best I’ve ever seen. And I feel a flicker of pride.
Ruth’s eyes are fastened on my father, drinking in his every word, a smile on her painted lips. Even Larry seems to have forgotten about his beer and holds it loosely in his hand, tipping it to the side, where it threatens to drip over the rim.
When the presentation concludes, the audience applauds and gets to their feet.
The signing will occur now, and everyone wants to get a good place in line.
There’s a scurrying of people hefting coats and tote bags, talking and laughing as they file out of the room and head into the lobby, where a table is set up, Alex’s books neatly arranged in mountainous piles.
“Think I’ll grab another plate before they shut down the food,” Larry says, and saunters off.
Ruth tips her head toward mine. “I need to speak to Sunny, dear. You all right?”
“Of course. I’m going to get some water.”
Alone, I head toward the bar, where a few people linger.
Husbands or wives maybe who have no idea who Alex is, dragged along to the event by an eager spouse.
I’m handed a lukewarm bottle of water. “At least it’s wet,” a middle-aged man says to me companionably as he opens his own bottle.
I smile in return and make my way back toward my seat.
Noah is crossing the room. I didn’t know he was going to be here. He’s wearing that same tweed jacket over a white shirt and jeans. “Emma?”
He follows me to my chair. I stand behind it, gripping the back. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” I say.
“Wasn’t sure I was coming but decided at the last minute.” He cranes his neck around to look at the crowd in the lobby. “It was sold out, but I bought the ticket a month ago, in case. How’ve you been?”
“Fine.” I set my water bottle on the seat of the chair.
Noah lowers his voice. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“I’ve been doing some research.” Of course he has. “On Carol Lawson.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
He opens his hands, a plea. “I just want to talk to you about what I’ve found.”
“Have you heard anything about Aubrey?”
He blinks his eyes behind his glasses. “No.”
“Seems to me that we ought to be more concerned with who killed Simon and what happened to Aubrey. That seems to be more pressing, don’t you think?”
“Well, of course. But the cops are actively investigating Simon’s death. I think they’ll get to the bottom of it sooner rather than later.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I’m hoping.”
“Well, the cops are looking into Carol’s disappearance too, right?”
Noah nods. “Detective Sanchez said that the investigation is active again, but the case is so old, it doesn’t hurt to have more eyes on it.”
“I guess. But what about Aubrey, Noah? What do you know about what happened to her? I think you would know better than anyone.”
He takes a step back. “What? What are you getting at?”
I feel the heat rise to my face. I swallow. “I found her scarf. In your bathroom.”
His face falls. Realization slowly covers his features. “Christ. Right! You found it that morning …”
“Yes. I wasn’t snooping, just looking for some toothpaste.” I glance over at the lobby, where Alex is smiling over an open book, his pen in hand. There’s still a big crowd. I want to get out of here, but I rode with him, and it doesn’t look like he’ll be ready to leave anytime soon.
“Aubrey and I are friends, Emma.”
“You don’t seem too concerned about her.”
“I totally am. Believe me.”
“What was her scarf doing in your bathroom drawer?”
“The night of Simon’s memorial, she and Dale went home and got into an argument.
She wanted to let the police search their house, and he didn’t.
She came over to my place, which she’s done before when they’ve argued.
I gave her a glass of wine and listened while she vented about Dale and her fears that they’d be implicated in Simon’s death.
How everybody in town was whispering about them. ”
“Do you think Dale had anything to do with Simon’s murder?”
Noah shrugs. “I don’t think so, but Aubrey was pretty upset that night. We talked until nearly midnight.”
My gaze meets his.
“Then she went home, Emma. That was it.”
“The scarf?”
“She forgot it. She put on her coat, and I walked her to her car. When I went back inside, I saw the scarf on the foyer floor, but she’d already driven away, so I stuffed it in my pocket and forgot about it until I was getting ready for bed that night.
I put it in the drawer figuring I’d give it to her when I saw her. ”
Do I believe him? It all sounds perfectly logical. Maybe.
“Anyway, I’ve talked to some of her friends and family, and they haven’t heard from her. I’ve asked Detective Bellman, and he said they have no reason to believe that anything bad happened to her. They really want to take a look at the Thompsons’ house, but so far, Dale hasn’t cooperated.”
I cross my arms over my chest, glance at the ceiling. “I was in Dale’s backyard the other day. I was out for a run and … I was afraid someone was following me, so I ran back there. I saw some dirt, disturbed behind the shed like someone had been digging back there.”
“Really? Did you tell the detectives?”
“No. I’ve been so caught up in some other things. And I don’t know if it was anything. It’s not a big enough patch to have buried a body.”
“But big enough to bury the weapon that was used to kill Simon?”
“Maybe. But that’s not all. While I was back there, I saw Jeffrey go into Dale’s house. Through the back door. I ran into him when I was leaving and he said that Dale asked him to look after his house, that there were a lot of outsiders coming in and out of the community.”
“That’s strange.”
“I know. It’s all bizarre. If I tell Detective Bellman about the dirt, do you think he can get a warrant?”
“I don’t know, Emma. But I’d tell him what you saw anyway.”
“I will.”
Ruth starts walking in our direction.
“You want to talk? Back at the lake?” Noah whispers.
“About Aubrey?”
“Yes. And Carol.”
“Have you really found something?”
“Don’t you think it’s interesting that two women have disappeared without a trace from Cheshire Lake?” With that he walks off. Turns back to me. “Call me, okay?”
When the last attendees have trickled out of the venue, Alex is finally ready to leave. We stand in a little group, Ruth, Sunny, Larry, and me, while Alex says goodbye to Barry, who’s headed back to New York in the morning.
“It was some evening,” Alex says, rubbing his hands together. While the rest of us seem tired, Alex is still energized. “I probably should head back to the apartment, spend some time with Liliana.” His gaze turns to me. “You want to ride back to the lake with Ruth and Larry?”
“Yes,” I say, relieved that I don’t have to spend the night in Boston.
Alex grasps my hands in his. “Thank you for being here, Emma. You really made the event a family affair.”
“It was wonderful,” I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster, Noah’s words echoing in my mind. “I’ll see you soon?”
“Yes. I’m staying in Boston a few days, but I’ll be up to the lake before too long.”
Sunny kisses Alex on the cheek. “You were wonderful, Dad. Everything was perfect. I’m headed home.”
Alex crushes her in a hug. “You did a great job, baby girl. Not a whiff of dissension in the air tonight.” He lets her go and swipes a blond tendril back over her shoulder.
Sunny slips into her coat. “Thanks. I’m going to get out of these heels, put my feet up, and have a glass of wine in front of the fireplace.”
“Sounds like a plan. Talk to you tomorrow.”
We head out into the cold night air. Alex peels off toward his Mercedes. The rest of us walk farther out in the parking lot. Sunny catches up to me and plucks the sleeve of my coat. I stop and turn toward her while Larry starts the car and Ruth slips into the passenger’s seat.
“Dad told me that you were thinking of leaving, going to Portland,” she says.
“Yes. I have an interview there soon. I was thinking of heading up early, but Alex convinced me to stay a while longer.”
Sunny’s brow creases. “Why don’t you leave now, Emma? Dad’s just being polite. We have too much going on here.” Her gaze follows Alex’s car as it speeds by.
I put my hand on my hip. “I’ll leave when I’m damn well ready, Sunny.”
She purses her lips. “I saw you talking to Noah. What did he want?”
“Just saying hello.”
“Right.” Her dark eyes meet mine. “Be careful. You have no idea what you might step into.”
My heart is beating in rapid little thumps. “Why don’t you enlighten me then?”
“Just watch what you say to people before you make trouble for my dad.”
“Why would I do that?”
“He’s an important man and there are some people who would relish the chance to do him harm.”
“Well, I’m not one of them, Sunny. So, stay away from me.” I go to push past her, but she reaches out and grabs my arm.
“Just leave, Emma. Okay? I would if I were you.”
I shake myself out of her grasp. “Leave me the hell alone.” I open the car door, slide inside, and slam the door in Sunny’s face. She stands still a moment, glaring at me through the glass. I return her stare as Larry backs the car out of the parking spot.