We sat with each other for half an hour, which was refreshing. What if I had married a man like my father? I was lucky to be with Robin and lucky to be carrying his baby. And I told him so.
“I think we both got very lucky,” he said, with a smile. “And some day this will be over, and we can enjoy our lives again.”
Chapter Twelve
Funerals. I’ve been to more than my share, I feel. But nothing is as sad as the funeral of a young person who had a whole life yet to live. Since I’d been to the visitation at the funeral home the night before, I tried to persuade myself we didn’t need to go to the funeral. But I couldn’t quite make myself believe that.
At the funeral home the night before, I’d paused to look at the picture of Tammy set up by her closed coffin. Tammy had been blond, athletic, a star student; her hair was still long in the picture. She hadn’t even had a chance to have her picture taken with her new short haircut. She’d had two brothers, both younger, who looked so lost and out of place at a funeral home that my heart ached.
The Finstermeyers, too, were there, looking just as bad as I was sure I did. But Beth told me, “If Joss loved Tammy, I have to represent her at this.”
I admired her very much for looking at the situation that way, and I admired the way she hugged Tammy’s mother. Both of them cried, and the dads shook hands in an awkward but sincere expression of commiseration. Joss was missing temporarily, we all hoped. Tammy was missing forever.
The funeral wouldn’t be any better. After Trumble’s visit to collect the anonymous letter, I had a hard time climbing into my funeral clothes. The promise of rain had been fulfilled. The blustering wet wind made it feel very cold, at least for Georgia; the temperature dipped into the low thirties.
To cap off the morning, the phone rang as we were going out the door. Robin answered, and he looked stricken after a moment. He covered the mouthpiece. “I have a phone conference I’d completely forgotten about. It’s with Louise and Gerald.” His American agent and his UK agent. I tried not to look tragic as I waved good-bye. I believed he’d really forgotten. He’d put on a suit for the funeral, which he would never have done if he’d planned on dodging it.
So I went by myself in a dark gray dress with a navy and yellow scarf at the neck. I just needed to see some color that day. I belted my lined black raincoat a little more loosely to accommodate my thickening waistline.
The funeral was at the First Presbyterian Church, which had been built in the thirties and added to ever since. It was a lovely old place, with a ceiling so high that the eye was led upward. The simple large wooden cross hanging behind the altar led me to think of what I should be contemplating: making my own soul right to meet with my maker. I had a lot to offer up as I waited for the service to start. I was seated toward the rear of the church, and I’d scooted into the middle of a pew to make room for people to pack in on either side.
I watched the people entering the church. The one I wanted to see most came down the middle aisle: Connie Bell. She was only seventeen but today she looked much older. Her mother was with her, and Katy looked even worse than Connie. She was carrying a burden, clearly, and I didn’t think that burden was solely Clayton’s abduction. I wondered if Trumble had visited Connie yesterday as she’d said she would. I wondered if she’d learned anything from the girl. Most of all, I wondered why Connie was at this funeral when she was so obviously emotionally drained.
I was vaguely aware that someone had come in from my left.
“Roe,” said a familiar voice, in the hushed tone people use in church. “Hey, how are you?”
“Perry,” I said. “Good to see you.” I leaned forward to peer over him. “Hi, Keith.” Keith Winslow, a financial adviser, raised his hand in a tiny wave. Perry and Keith had been dating only a short time, but they seemed well suited. Perry had had emotional issues for a while, and I’d been a little scared of him, but his therapy had worked, and his admitting to himself that he was a gay man had been a huge breakthrough. “How’s your mom, Perry?”
He shook his head. “I’m going to have to put her in a home. She’s getting too erratic for me to take care of, she can’t work any longer, and I never know what she’ll take it in her head to do. I tried having a woman stay with her during the day, but Mama got out anyway. It’s going to take someone with training to watch her.”
“I’m so sorry. Sally and I were friends for a long time, and it makes me sick this has happened to her.” To change the subject, I said, “I didn’t know you knew Tammy?”
“She was part of the gay community,” he said, with some dignity. “We try to support our own.”
I wasn’t quite sure how to respond, but I tried to look approving. I found I was curious about the process of discovery, though. When did people understand that about themselves? Was there always a huge conflict? Once Beth had learned Joss was gay, she had stiffened her back and adjusted to it, apparently. Of course, Joss was missing and all her emotional energy had to be invested in that loss. That absence.
“So you knew before her mom did? That Tammy and Joss were a couple?”
Perry said, “Sure.”
Keith leaned over him to whisper, “Haven’t you ever heard of gaydar?”
I smiled involuntarily. Apparently, this was a real thing.
That was the last time I smiled for the next hour, during the poignant funeral and graveside service. Tammy’s little brothers were miserable, her mother and dad were tragic, and I hated whoever had made them look that way. I kept my eyes on Connie, and when she glanced back at me and saw me watching her, she flinched. Connie knew way more than she was telling, and it was so frustrating that she would not talk. She and her mother left the graveside very quickly after the funeral was over, and Connie was crying so hard she could scarcely walk.
My childhood friend Amina Day Price was waiting at my house when I returned. I was shocked to see her, delighted to see her. Amina lived in Texas with her husband Hugh, and their daughter Megan, now in her terrible twos. But today, Amina was alone.
“We’re back in town for Christmas, and I had to come see your new house and your new husband,” she said. Amina was magnetically attractive, so of course she’d always been popular in high school. I’d met Hugh, of course—I’d been Amina’s bridesmaid—but I’d never had the chance to know him well. Hugh worked long hours at his law firm, I knew from my exchange of e-mails with Amina.
“Where’s the husband and the baby?” I asked, taking off my coat and hanging it on one of the hooks on the coatrack in the entry. “For that matter, where’s my own husband?” Amina was by herself in the living room.
“Robin got a phone call from his publisher about cover approval on the next book, and he had to take it,” she said. “He’s in his office. Just happened a minute ago.”
I saw that Amina had a cup of coffee, so Robin had done his host duty.
“I just came from a funeral,” I said. I hoped that would explain any lack of enthusiasm in our unexpected reunion. I went to our coffee machine and made a cup for myself. The idea of something hot was irresistible.
“That’s what he was telling me. In fact, he filled me in on the whole situation. Of course, my mom called me about your half brother. She knew I’d want to know.”
I kind of wondered why Amina hadn’t called me to tell me she was thinking of me; but after all, she’d known she was going to be back in Lawrenceton. “So how long are you staying?” I asked, forcing myself to look beyond my own problems.
“Well, through Christmas,” she said. “Megan and I are staying my mother’s.”
Even I noticed the big narrative gap. “Ahhhhh … what about your husband? Is he joining you in a few days?”
“That’s the bad part. We’re trying a separation,” she said, taking a big gulp of air.
“Oh my gosh! That’s so sad! I’m really sorry.” I tried to remember if Amina had ever hinted this might be in the offing, but I could not think of anything she’d said that might have prepared me.
“This seems out of the blue,” I said tentatively.
“I held on as long as I could, because I really do love him,” she said, tears rolling down her cheeks. “But he just never felt he could cut back on his hours at the firm, and I could not stand being alone at home all the time.” Amina had always been social and outgoing.
“You didn’t make many friends in Houston?” I said. “I have a hard time believing that.”
“I did make some,” she admitted. “But we didn’t all have babies at the same time … and the other wives of partners at the firm told me I had to suck it up, that him being gone was the price I had to pay for the good lifestyle.”
“Gosh,” I said, in a neutral voice. I had had the selfsame thoughts when Amina had commented on Hugh’s long hours at the firm. Amina had dated Hugh for months before they’d gotten engaged, and I was sure she’d known the kind of hours Hugh would have to pull after they’d married.
“So I have playdates with other moms with kids, but I never get to do anything on my own any more. He’s working all the time, and he never keeps Megan. I don’t get a break!” Amina’s voice was almost scarily passionate and angry.
“You all didn’t talk about this ahead of time?” I said.
“No. More fool me! I thought he’d be different from the other go-getters at his firm.” She shook her head. “I know he loves me. I know he loves the baby. But having an absent husband is almost like having no husband at all. He comes in after I’ve gone to sleep, he leaves while I’m still in my bathrobe, and he never shows up in between. As far as he’s concerned, I might as well never get dressed.”
“So what are you going to do?” This was the last thing I’d expected when I’d seen Amina’s mom’s car in the driveway. But I was her friend, and I had to rally.
“I’m going to stay with Mom for a while,” Amina said. “We’ll see how Hugh feels about living without us. I’ll see how living without Hugh is for me. If he can think of a way to be a more present husband, I would be happy to work something out.”
I remembered that she’d always really enjoyed spending money, had always lived right up to her slender income prior to her marriage, and had reveled in being a lawyer’s wife. I’d heard a lot of that when I’d been her bridesmaid. But I bit the words back, because I was sure she really did love Hugh. If she wanted a change, she would have to be prepared to accept the downside of that change. Right?
Amina took another deep breath, and arranged her face in an expression of concern. “So how is the search for Phillip going? Any news?”
We talked about the missing kids for a while, and then my stomach lurched. “I have to eat something,” I said, and luckily Robin got off the phone then and came into the living room looking happy. It must have been a good conversation. “Honey,” I said, “can you get me some graham crackers?”
“Sure,” he said, and in about thirty seconds, he’d brought me some on a little plate. If Amina hadn’t been there, it would have been a paper towel.
I ate one in little bites, pushed the coffee away, and drank a glass of water instead. Amina watched all this with a quizzical look.
“Better?” Robin asked, after a minute or two.
I nodded gratefully.
“Roe, are you sick?” Amina asked.
“No, not exactly. Pregnant,” I said. If circumstances had been different, I would have made a big deal out of telling her, and I would have expected fireworks and streamers and confetti, but that wasn’t going to happen.
But I did not expect that Amina would look unhappy.
“Oh, and you’ve waited so long,” she said. “Well, that’s great!”
“Actually, you don’t seem very happy,” I said, because Robin had that written clearly on his face. Might as well take the bull by the horns.
She had the grace to look embarrassed. “I guess I thought it would be like high school,” she said. “I’d tell you all my problems, you’d tell me how sorry you were and that it would all work out, and you’d remind me of the many guys who wanted to date me, and I would feel better. Get my ego back in shape.”
“You’re grown up now, Amina. So am I. I’m your friend, not your cheerleader.” At least I’d thought so.
“I see that,” Amina said. “I really do. And I’m very happy for you, Roe. If anyone deserves happiness, you do.”
“Because?”
“Because in high school…” Then she shut her mouth to reconsider. “But that was long ago.”
“I’ve been married and lost a husband since then. I’m hardly that person anymore,” I said.
“I see that,” she repeated. “I guess we have to build a new friendship, Roe. Now that I’m home, we’ll have time to do that. If you want to.”
“Sure,” I said, wondering if I really meant that.
“Then I’ll take my leave.” She stood, and I heaved myself to my feet. “I’m so glad about the baby.”
She took her departure a bit hastily.
“What the hell was all that about?” Robin said.
I shook my head. “I think Amina still had this image of me as a teenager, and she cast me as the unattractive friend who was there to provide support for the glamorous one who had all the advantages. Which would be her, of course.”
“Weird and stupid,” Robin said.
“Looking back, I dated enough,” I said. “Not the captain of the football team, or the homecoming king. But smart guys I liked. I didn’t sit at home every Saturday night, and I had friends. But I now know that my friendship with Amina was uneven, to say the least.”
“To hell with high school,” Robin said. “This is a lot better.”
“You’re absolutely right. To hell with high school. I wouldn’t be a teenager again for any amount of money. And I’ll tell you another thing. After keeping Phil and Phillip distinguished for years, we are not naming the baby either Robin or Aurora.”
“Agreed.” Robin sat down with me, and we talked about the funeral, and we talked about Robin’s conversations with his agents and his publisher, and he told me how his work had gone today. We just talked.
It was very pleasant, and my dad’s absence was a real pleasure, too. I called my mother to tell her that Dad wasn’t in residence any longer, though I didn’t go into the why of that, and she tactfully didn’t ask.
Robin worked that afternoon, and I tried to catch up on the laundry. I also gave Moosie some lap time and stared at the television, not registering anything that was going on on the screen.
That evening, Connie Bell killed herself.
Perry called me at eight thirty to tell me. His friend Jinnie, an intake clerk, had been on duty when they’d brought Connie into the hospital. Apparently, she’d taken her mother’s sleeping pills. Katy had found Connie in the girl’s bedroom. I imagined it patterned on the rooms of my friends at that age: decorated with dried corsages and pictures of the boyfriend. Connie was unresponsive. Despite everything the doctors and nurses could do to keep the girl alive, she’d died without regaining consciousness. Jinnie, who loved to be the bearer of news more than she respected confidentiality, called Perry from the ladies’ room.
I was profoundly depressed. Not only had Connie lost her own life, which was tragedy enough, but with her had died the only source of knowledge about what had happened that day in the alley. I was convinced Connie had been there. I was convinced she was the one who had left the note on my car. But that was just a conviction with no factual support.
Cathy Trumble came by that evening. She was in a grim mood. “I went by and questioned her after the funeral,” she said. “And this is the result. She cracked.”
“I don’t know if you’re saying this because you want me to feel guilty, or what,” I said. “I also think if Connie’d been questioned even more, earlier in the investigation, she might have cracked and told you everything she knew. She’d still be alive, if she’d gotten rid of the knowledge that made her so hopeless.”
“Are you trying to make me feel guilty?” Trumble
looked angry.
“I’m saying she was the guilty one,” I said. “The pressure was too much for her. And since keeping secrets didn’t work for her, I’m going to tell you one. The Harrisons had a ransom demand for Clayton.” I didn’t look at Robin. Even if he disapproved, I had to do this, and I only regretted I hadn’t revealed it long before. I was tempted to tell Trumble about our observation of Dan Harrison paying the ransom, but I figured that would pretty much extinguish her faith in us. If she had any. And Robin and I hadn’t figured out what that whole episode had meant.
Trumble’s eyes got round and wide. “How long have you known about a ransom demand?”
“Three days,” I admitted. “Karina pleaded with us to keep silent. But as far as I’m concerned, silence killed Connie. If Karina Harrison hates me for the rest of her life, I’m okay with that. I’m sure they’ve paid the ransom. So where is Clayton?”
“I’ve got to call in to the station. You should have told us immediately,” Trumble said. She ran a hand through her graying hair.
“I agree,” I said. “Though if I truly believed that keeping her secret would keep Clayton alive, I’d stick to it. But I think this whole thing is completely … bogus, fishy, out of whack.”
“I agree,” she said. “And now I have to talk to my boss.This changes everything.”
“Will the FBI be called?”
“That’s happened. In my opinion, and don’t quote me, we should have called them immediately. Especially since Liza is so young.”
After she’d left, I turned to Robin. “I felt like I couldn’t win, in this situation. And I’m so sad about Connie. But at least this horrible death may shake something loose in the investigation.”
“You mean, maybe someone will be horrified enough to tell the investigators something new?”
“Yes. Or maybe the FBI can find something the locals weren’t able to find. I think the law enforcement here in Lawrenceton does a good job. But you always hear that the FBI has so many resources. Maybe they’ll work some magic that will help us find Phillip.”