Catherine Coulter - Born To Be Wild

“Yes, Dad, Jack needs to hear this, please,” Mary Lisa said.

“Please, sir, she’s right,” Jack said.

“All right. As I said, I went over there, confronted Milo. He was swaggering around, told me to mind my own business. Then he lost control and actually hit me. I hit him back, in the ribs, and he went down. Turns out Olivia followed me there. She came running in, screaming at me to leave him alone. When I managed to get her off me, I stood there, so shocked and appalled I couldn’t think straight, watched her crouch over him, cooing and rubbing him where I’d hit him. Old Milo moaned and she looked up at me and threatened to have the police throw me in jail.”

“You never told us that, Dad,” Kelly said.

He shrugged. “Why should I? It had nothing to do with you girls. Besides, after that night, Olivia never dragged herself over here again to your mother after he’d beaten her. Maybe she didn’t because she was afraid of what I’d do. I don’t know.” He looked down the table at his wife. “What did she do from then on, Kathy? Call you? Beg you to meet her somewhere?”

“That’s cruel, George. But it makes my point. Olivia would never have hurt Milo. She adored him, even though he was a monster. She would have done anything he told her to, anything.”

Jack said, “You and Olivia Hildebrand seem like very different people, Mrs. Beverly. How is it you’re such good friends?”

She looked at Jack, locked her eyes on his face. “When we first arrived in Goddard Bay nearly twenty-five years ago, Olivia went out of her way to make me feel welcome.” The words seemed to catch in her throat. She downed some wine, swallowed. “No one else did. But Olivia came over to see me and we talked and talked. She became my best friend. That’s all.” And even you need a friend, don’t you, Mom? Mary Lisa thought.

Good enough, Jack thought. “Thank you, Mrs. Beverly, Mr. Beverly, for telling me about this.”

“You still think she’s guilty, don’t you?”

Jack looked at the beautiful woman who seemed better suited to a life in Manhattan, with doormen and limos and charity balls, than to a small town like Goddard Bay. He said, “It’s my job to find out, Mrs. Beverly. This has got to come to an end somehow. Thank you for helping me.”

Kelly said suddenly, “I remember hearing Marci yelling at her mother once, called her a boring old rug. It was something about her father not letting her go somewhere and her mother not doing anything about it.” Kelly shrugged. “All the usual teenage angst, I suppose. But the rug bit fits, doesn’t it?”

George Beverly cleared his throat. “I suppose we’ve let this dinner take a very unorthodox path. For that I apologize.”

Lou Lou smiled, raised her glass. “I would like to thank Mrs. Beverly for having us all over with almost no advance notice at all.” Lou Lou clicked her glass to Kathleen’s, and glasses were raised all around.

Kelly, bless her heart, began speaking about Monica’s run for state office. Then she eyed Mary Lisa and remarked, “Monica’s husband nearly married Mary Lisa. But that didn’t work out.”

“No,” Mary Lisa said, grinning hugely, “it didn’t. Thank you, God.”

Jack’s cell phone vibrated. He looked at Kathleen as he pulled his cell out of his jacket. “Excuse me, ma’am.” He nodded to Mrs. Beverly and walked out of the dining room.

He heard Mary Lisa say, “Kelly, what are you up to?”

He went outside. It was chilly tonight, and damp, the clouds covering the stars and the sickle moon. “Chief Wolf.”

Mary Lisa yawned as she walked back toward the elevators, Lou Lou’s morning paper in her hand.

From the corner of her eye she saw a tired-looking businessman follow the bellboy out the front doors. Nearly there, she thought, and reached her hand out to press the elevator button when the old scratchy voice nailed her to the spot.

“Will you be checking out today, Mary Lisa?”

She turned to see Mrs. Willis, her old bird eyes bright with interest and cunning, standing beside the reception counter, her arms crossed over her bright-pink-wool-sweatered chest. There was a strong smell of lavender wafting off her. “Good morning, Mrs. Willis.”

“What have you got there, Mary Lisa?”

“One of my friends wanted her morning paper. I guess you don’t provide them on Saturday mornings?”

“Nope, costs too much to throw in Saturday too,” said Mrs. Willis. “You sure that’s all you’ve got there?”

“Yes, ma’am. We won’t be checking out today, perhaps tomorrow.”

“That’ll be fine, Mary Lisa. I hope you and your girlfriends will stay for a while, maybe help us find this person who poisoned our food. You know, I was thinking Mr. Rogers has sure gotten crotchety over the years-do you know he chews nearly two packs of tobacco every day even though he can’t keep his blood pressure down? I’m thinking maybe he’s our man.”

“I suppose anything’s possible, Mrs. Willis. But my problem is I don’t see a motive for him to kill anyone.”

The old woman cackled. “You’re not looking hard enough. It’s morning and here you are wide awake. Where were you and your girlfriends last night, young lady?”

She sighed. “We were all here, Mrs. Willis, happily sleeping in your comfortable beds.” And Mary Lisa smiled, gave the old woman a little wave, and stepped into the elevator.

Lou Lou walked out of one of the bedrooms when Mary Lisa came into the suite, scratching her head and yawning.

“You look all perky this morning. Oh good, you got me a paper. You’re a princess, Mary Lisa.”

“Elizabeth still asleep?”

“I heard her in the shower already. I’m going to order room service. Dry toast for you, coffee?”

Mary Lisa nodded and wandered off into the bedroom to call Jack.

When she came out of the bedroom, she saw Lou Lou taking her first sip of coffee. Her friend sat back in her chair and said, “Okay, I know you called Jack. Why did he dash out of your folks’ house last night? Who called him?”

“A Sheriff Davis called him from Pomack, that’s a small town about thirty minutes south of Goddard Bay. He nabbed a homeless Vietnam vet who’s been on a walkabout. He thinks he might be the man Jack’s been looking for. Jack drove down there last night.” She chewed on her toast. “He’s still tied up.”

Elizabeth said, “I was thinking in the shower. Here we are, a trio of slugs up here, not being helpful at all. How about we pay Marci Maynard a visit? Her mother and yours are best friends, after all. No one could object, I mean, our offering condolences for her loss.”

Mary Lisa quirked an eyebrow at her. “What about John?”

Elizabeth laughed. “That obvious, huh? Okay, I called him this morning. He was on his way over to see Jack.” She threw out her arms. “I’m free, fortunately. Lou Lou, what do you think?”

“Let me finish the sports section and I’m with you.”

Mary Lisa said, “Well, why not? Jack won’t like it, but it’s better than sitting around waiting for him or watching the sailboats.” Or visiting my mother, she thought.

Elizabeth rose and stretched. She’d put her sleep shirt back on after her shower. It said in blazing pink across the chest, Politicians Spin in Their Graves . She looked at Mary Lisa thoughtfully. “I know you had high hopes for a lovely night at Jack’s house, babe, but things don’t always work out.”

Lou Lou said, eyeing Elizabeth over the top of the newspaper, “As if you weren’t crying in your pillow because John wasn’t around.”

Elizabeth nodded. “I don’t know about the crying part, but I’ll admit seeing him again didn’t set him back any.”