Laura Lippman - To The Power Of Three

“They hired me for my lean and hungry look,” he said when he caught Dale eyeing his plate. “I’m not doing low-carb, exactly, but when I’m away from my mom’s table, I try to keep it light. I can say no to a waitress, but I can’t say no to my mom.”

“Yes, it’s hard to say no to one’s mom, no matter one’s age.”

“Does your mom still expect you to eat when you see her?”

“My mother passed away ten years ago.”

He lowered his head, embarrassed. “Oh, yeah, I should have noticed. I mean, yesterday, in the cemetery…I mean-sorry.”

“It’s part of the natural order of things, losing one’s parent. Sad, but logical. Losing one’s child, however…” Such clichés were inextricable from grief, Dale was discovering.

“I know, it must be awful. I still can’t believe it’s Kat. Everyone liked her.”

“Well, someone clearly didn’t.” He let that sink in. “Did you know Perri very well?”

“Not at all. I mean, I must have met her, the summer I dated Kat. I think she was in Carousel . But she wasn’t, like, someone I talked to. Her older brother was ahead of me in school, but I knew him a little better. Dwight.”

No matter how things end, they have a child left, Dale thought. It’s so unfair. And the Patels have all three of theirs. Again he felt that impulse to pound the table, to throw his own untouched plate across the room, to succumb to a tantrum.

But all he said was, “So you stay plugged into Glendale, after all these years?”

“It’s home,” Peter said with a shrug. “You hear stuff, almost without trying. Truth is, I feel a lot closer to my college friends than my high-school ones. I mean, I have so much more in common with them. Whereas in high school, it was just, you know, being in the same place.”

“Propinquity.”

“Sir?”

“The mere fact of being in close physical quarters. It’s that way for most people. I seldom see my high-school friends outside reunions. And I wouldn’t even go to those if I still didn’t live in the area. My brother never goes.” Because he doesn’t want everyone to see how Mr. Most Popular turned out . Those whom the gods would destroy they first elect most popular. Then again, Kat was most popular. Most popular, first in her class, prom queen. Yes-and she was dead.

“Yeah,” said Peter, clearly just being agreeable, but Dale started, thinking the boy was affirming Dale’s unvoiced thoughts.

“The thing that bothers me,” Dale said, growing impatient, as he always did, with the small talk endemic to business, “is the idea that I might never know why this happened. If Perri doesn’t recover, we won’t find out. Even if she does, it will probably turn into some variation on the insanity defense. Either way we lose. And not just my family. I think everyone in Glendale has a stake in what happened.”

“I just assumed Perri was jealous or something.”

“But do you know that? Is it based on something someone said, or is it just your conjecture?”

“Um, well…I don’t really know anything. Giff, the drama teacher, said Perri was really burned when they subbed Oklahoma ! for Anyone Can Whistle . Even though he said Perri could be Ado Annie, which is the kind of part that actors salivate for.”

“What did any of this have to do with Kat? I mean, I know she had the lead in Oklahoma!, but why would Perri care about that, especially if the drama teacher told her the other part could be hers?”

“Beats me. Girls get crazy over weird shi-stuff. But, Mr. Hartigan, won’t the police figure this all out? I mean, isn’t it their job?”

Dale took a gulp of his coffee, willing himself to slow down, reel the boy in gently. This was the part Susannah played in his company, the gentle, gracious hostess. But he couldn’t use Susannah for this bit of liaison, for Susannah would not have approved of what he was doing.

“It should be. But I’m hearing about, um, some irregularities in the investigation. They’re nice fellows, very professional. But it’s a job to them, nothing more. They’ll be satisfied with far less than I ever will-a straightforward exegesis of bullet trajectories, where everyone was standing.”

Vocabulary was clearly not the boy’s strong point. How had he ever gotten into NYU? Oh, yes, the Cuban mom. “Well, what about Josie Patel? Can’t she tell you what you need to know?”

“As I understand it, Josie’s story doesn’t exactly track.” Dale hated to admit it, but his father had been right, calling in all those political markers, making sure they were kept up to speed on the investigation. It was like getting private title insurance-the lender’s interests and your interests overlapped only up to a point, and then you were on your own. “And her parents have hired a lawyer now.”

He made eye contact with the boy and held it. Why did women think he was handsome? Yes, his features were even, his skin pleasingly smooth, his eyes puppy-doggish, his hair floppy in the retro style that girls seemed to like. But those lovely eyes were a little vacant, his manner as floppy as his hair.

“Do you know Josie, Peter?”

“A little. She and Kat were tight. She did flip-flaps in the opening of Carousel, the one where I played Billy Bigelow.”

“Right,” Dale said, although he certainly hadn’t seen the show. Kat wasn’t in that one. He remembered Kat’s asking him to go with her, however, to see Josie and Perri. And Peter, he realized now. She had wanted her father to see her boyfriend as something other than the predatory college creep he was. Whatever regrets he had about Kat, he would never feel bad about getting this kid out of her life. He was just sorry that Peter hadn’t finessed it better.

“You know, Peter, the people who loved Kat-we need each other more than ever right now. And we have to pursue the truth as…a memorial to her. We owe her that much, don’t you think?”

The boy wasn’t the sharpest crayon in the box, and the seconds passed. Finally, finally, however, Peter said, “I could talk to her. Josie, I mean. If you think it would help.”

“Really?” Dale replied, as if the idea had never occurred to him. “Why-of course, that was never my intent, but if you did find out something, it would be…a comfort to me. Whatever you found out. From anyone, not just Josie. I mean, you have a lot of influence with that high-school crowd. People who wouldn’t dream of talking to the police might talk to you.”

Peter brushed his hair out of his eyes, sat up a little straighter. Dale could not say for sure, but he believed that what he saw then was the dreamy aspect of an actor trying on a part.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah. I could definitely do that.”

Dale pushed his business card across the table. “Between us. I know I can trust you.”

“Because…”

“Because you’re an honorable sort.” No point in reminding Peter how dishonorable he had been, how abruptly he had dropped Kat three years ago, when he thought there might be some advantage in it for him.

“You know, I kind of loved her. Kat, I mean. I really did. But we were young, like you said.”

“I’m sure you did care for her.” I’m sure you think you did.

“I really want to help, in any way I can. Josie, anybody. I’ll talk to anybody.”

The boy felt guilty, Dale realized with a thrill. Guilty and obligated-as well he should. If he had really loved Kat, Dale wouldn’t have been able to scare him away. He hated him now, just a little, for doing exactly what Dale had wanted. Even if it had been in his daughter’s best interest, it had hurt her. Even Dale could see that.