Katherine Page - The Body in the Cast

She slipped on the thick, very soft terry-cloth robe and let it slide down over one shoulder, revealing one perfectly formed breast. She struck a pose, tossing her head, moistening her lips. Not bad for her age.

And what that was, not even Max knew for sure.

Nine

But the past was not dead.

The Fairchilds were midway through their daily breakfast ritual. The baby was covered with cereal, its consistency suggesting Faith should quickly cut a strip of wallpaper and decorate her daughter. Ben was complaining that there were pictures of basketball players on the box but no cards inside. "No basketball players, either," his mother told him. "Now, please finish eating." He hadn't liked the answer and was staring off into space. Tom was doing whatever grown men did in the morning to get ready for work, which took roughly twice as long as most women. Faith had already poured and discarded two cups of hot coffee for him. When the phone rang, she reached for it as eagerly as a teenager.

“Good morning, Faith. Have 'you got a pencil and paper?”

It seemed an odd reason for Millicent to call, but it was always better to humor the woman.

“Why, yes. Right here." She reached for the pad and pencil from last night.

“Good, because I don't want you to forget to check any of these places."

“What places?" Faith was willing to play along. Anything beat chipping encrusted food from Amy, and she needed changing, too.

Millicent ignored the question. An agenda was an agenda.

“The problem is, I can't go into town myself, because—and this is quite shocking—the police are watching my house.”

It was quite shocking and also quite unbelievable. Why would the police be staking out Millicent's Colonial? Surely they had come up with more likely suspects. Then it dawned on Faith. Of course. Dunne shot up a notch in her estimation. Follow Millicent to find Penny. He couldn't know that Millicent really didn't know where Penny was. And "places" meant places Penny might be. The game was getting better and better.

“So, you want me to go into Boston to look for Penny"

“Not you," Millicent corrected, "Pix and you. You need someone local to help you get around.”

Faith didn't mind having Pix along at any time. And in this instance, she could be helpful negotiating the one-way streets all in the same direction that made up Boston proper, but it hurt not to he trusted to go it alone. She wondered why Millicent was bothering with her services at all and was about to ask when Millicent handily supplied the answer.

“You seem to be so much closer to the police force than dear Pix." It was not a compliment.

Still, Faith was more than happy to take on the task. f she could find Penny, she might be able to find out more about Alden, and then there was the whole issue of why Penny had run away. Faith did not believe it was grief. Penelope Bartlett must know something.

She had one more question, mostly because she was curious.

“Why are you so sure Penny is in Boston?"

“Besides the fact that I immediately saw the dog was in his run outside and had food for a day or two, just her overnight case is gone. She wasn't planning to go far. I took the liberty of noting what was gone when Charley and I were going over the house—her toothbrush, night cream.... Obviously, she planned to stay somewhere. But from what I could tell, only her blue suit is missing from her closet. Remember, she was wearing a brown wool dress and a navy quilted down coat from Bean's?”

Faith had not remembered; had not even noticed, which tended to be the case with Penny's wardrobe. Millicent was a marvel. However, you wouldn't hear that from Faith's lips.

“She was carrying her brown purse, too. I hope you're getting this all down. When we're finished, I'll call Pix while you're getting ready. Perhaps it would be best to wear something, shall we say, discreet—to blend in”

Was Millicent suggesting that Faith's normal attire set her apart from the madding crowd? She certainly hoped so. Yet it was a good idea and she'd leave her modish large-checked blanket coat at home and wear the preppy little black Lauren she saved for funerals instead.

“Here are the places Penny would be apt to go. Start at her club, the Chilton Club. Pix knows where it is. Her mother's a member. Penny might be having lunch there. But she isn't staying at the club, because I already checked.”

Faith interrupted her. "But Millicent, would she go someplace so familiar? Someplace where she would be recognized?”

Millicent was indignant. "You don't think a member of our club would call the police about another member!”

Enough said.

“Shall we continue? f she's not eating there, she might be at the Museum of Fine Arts. In the restaurant, not in that little café with those spindly chairs outside the gift shop and certainly not in the cafeteria. You should also check the members' room. f it was Friday, our job would be simple, because Penny would never miss symphony. The only other thing I can think of is the flower show—in Horticultural Hall on Mass. Avenue. She never misses it and bought her ticket a month ago."

“ Where do you think she might be staying? Does she have a favorite hotel—or friends in town?"

“Of course she has friends in town and I've already called them. And she assuredly would never have had an occasion to stay in a Boston hotel" Millicent's inflection made the two words sound decidedly seamy. "She has taken tea at the Copley, though. Add it to the list. Now you had best get yourself organized. That sounds like your child in the background, so I'll say good-bye." Millicent hung up and Faith was left to cope with her child, the crying one, as opposed to Tom's, who clearly never did.

As she took Amy upstairs to clean her, Faith made another list in her head. A "How Am I Going to Cater Tonight's Shoot and Take Care of My Children?" list. She started with Tom, who, surprisingly, thought going to look for Penny was an excellent idea. It would take his wife out of Aleford, away from further phone threats. Although Faith was pretty sure he wouldn't have been so keen if she was going by herself, but she'd take what she could get. She had been thinking about the call off and on since receiving it and had almost convinced herself it was Marta. The actress would have no trouble disguising her voice, and she might have decided her cryptic remarks at the Town Hall were not direct enough. Tom's voice broke into her thoughts.

“If Arlene can watch Amy this morning and give both kids lunch, I can work at home this afternoon. And today young Benjamin will take a nap. I'm working on the eulogy for Alden and it doesn't matter where I write—it's a mighty task.”

Faith was sympathetic. "You couldn't get someone else to do it? Like Dan Garrison? He was a friend of Alden's."

“Alden specifically mentioned me in the funeral arrangements he outlined in his will, the lawyer said. Perhaps I was supposed to feel honored."

“You never know, he may rise from his grave and correct your grammar. That may have been the intent.”

She moved on to other things. "Could you call Arlene while I change my clothes?" She didn't have any round-collared blouses, but she'd assemble something demure. It was a challenge.

“Sure, give me the baby.”

A squeaky-clean Amy gave her father a toothless grin. Daddy's little girl. It started early.

Before Tom could call Arlene, the phone rang. It was Pix. She told him to tell Faith to meet her in the driveway in fifteen minutes and to wear a hat and gloves. There was nothing like Pix for marshaling forces.

Faith threw on some clothes, enough makeup to maintain the natural look she cultivated, and searched for a hat. Since she was not a member of the Royal Family, the choices were meager: a broad-brimmed straw, a vintage fawn-colored man's fedora, or a large black velvet beret. She also had a light beige stocking cap, purchased when "grunge" meant grunge, and she wasn't wearing it until the fad passed and the word reverted to what it, and these fashions, were. She doubted any of the hats would meet with Pix's approval, but she chose the beret as the best bet. It matched her coat. Gloves were no problem. Now all she had to do was get ahold of Niki. The time had come to delegate with a vengeance.