Читать книгу Flamingo Diner - Sherryl Woods, Sherryl Woods - Страница 11

6

Rosa should have felt gratified. There had been so many people at the funeral, so many sincere expressions of sympathy. Every word spoken to her had been filled with very real dismay over her loss. Even the mayor had come by the house to offer his condolences. Though Rosa listened skeptically, for once his remarks seemed to be genuine, rather than calculated for maximum political benefit.

“Don Killian was a tremendous asset to this community,” Owen Habersham said, clasping Rosa’s hand in his. “Whenever I had a problem, I knew I could come to him for clear thinking.”

Rosa had always felt the same way about her husband, had thought he felt the same about her. So why hadn’t Don come to her with whatever devastating problem had been on his mind at the end? She’d always believed there was nothing they couldn’t discuss, nothing they couldn’t work out.

The early years of their marriage had been filled with trials—business struggles, a miscarriage, the loss of his parents, then hers—but they had met each test together. Even before they’d married, there had been a few serious ups and downs. One rift had almost broken them up permanently, but they’d mended it and been stronger than ever.

She sighed at the irony in the mayor’s comment. If her husband had been thinking clearly, would he have killed himself? She was ashamed of his actions, even more ashamed that she hated him for them. One act, one instance of craziness, had destroyed everything she’d felt for him, all the love in her heart. It had turned her into a liar and a hypocrite. She was keeping her suspicions—her certainty—that Don had purposely driven into that lake from the police and, more important, from her family. She simply couldn’t bring herself to add to the devastation that Emma, Jeff and Andy were already feeling. And even now she felt a tremendous sense of loyalty to Don. She wanted to protect his reputation, which was more than he’d seen fit to do when he’d decided to drive into the lake.

Hearing so many people say such nice things should have been gratifying, but it wasn’t. She felt like a fraud, as if she didn’t deserve their sympathy because she was so horribly angry with the man they were bent on praising. Worse, she felt she didn’t deserve any compassion because it was plain to her, at least, that she had let Don down in some real, meaningful way. Why else would her husband take his own life?

“Excuse me,” she said to the mayor, when she could take it no longer. Hurrying from the room, ignoring those who spoke, she made her way to the comparative quiet of the kitchen.

Helen, who’d rarely let Rosa out of her sight, rushed after her. “How are you holding up?” she asked.

“Can you get these people out of here?” Rosa pleaded. “I’m not sure I can handle it if one more person tells me how wonderful Don was.”

“He was wonderful,” Helen replied, her tone chiding Rosa for thinking otherwise even under the current circumstances.

“I always thought so,” Rosa said, feeling the rage once again begin to build in her chest. “But wonderful people do not suddenly decide to kill themselves one day. They do not abandon their families and leave them with a million questions.”

Helen gasped. “Rosa, what on earth are you saying? Don’s death was an accident. No one’s said otherwise.”

“I know better,” Rosa said. “He drove into that lake on purpose. Nothing else makes sense.”

“Stop that. Stop it right now!” Helen said. “You can’t be saying such a thing. You can’t even think it.”

“I don’t think it. I know it,” Rosa insisted, then sighed. “But you’re right, I can’t say anything to another living soul.” She gazed at her friend. “But I have to talk to someone, Helen, or I’ll go crazy.”

“Then you can talk to me,” Helen said decisively. “If you need to work through this, then you can say whatever you want to me and it will go no further.”

Rosa nodded. “You knew Don. How could he do such a thing?”

“If—and I’m not saying I believe it for a minute—if he committed suicide, then something terrible obviously drove him to it. Anyone can reach a breaking point.”

“Of course they can,” Rosa agreed. “But what was Don’s breaking point? Can you tell me that? Was he having an affair? Did some other woman dump him or threaten to tell me what was going on? Was he sick? Was he trying to spare us months of suffering? Or was he just tired of everyday life with me and the children?”

“I don’t know,” Helen said, looking utterly helpless. “I wish I could give you answers, but I can’t. I can’t even accept the possibility that you might be right. You may have to resign yourself to not knowing.”

“I can’t live with that,” Rosa said angrily. She searched her friend’s face and voiced just one of her fears. “Helen, do you think he was involved with another woman? Someone at the diner, maybe?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Helen scolded. “Don would never have an affair right under your nose. He would never have an affair, period. He loved you. If there’s one thing I do know, it’s that.”

“How do you know that?” Rosa scoffed. “I never thought he’d kill himself, either.”

Helen obviously had no answer for that. She merely returned Rosa’s gaze, her expression distraught.

“I know one thing,” Rosa declared. “I am not setting foot in that diner ever again, not when there could be someone there who was sleeping with my husband.”

“Rosa, you’re talking crazy now,” Helen said impatiently. “Listen to me. There was no other woman. I am as sure of that as I am that the sun will rise tomorrow morning. You love that diner. You’re its heart and soul. People come there for a kind word from you. They can get a decent omelette or pancakes anyplace, but they can’t see their friends or be welcomed like one of the family anyplace else in Winter Cove. Besides that, it’s your livelihood. Who’ll run it, if you don’t?”

Rosa faltered at that. Don had always taken care of the finances. She had no idea what sort of money they had, but she doubted it was much, not with Jeff in college and Emma out only a few years. Don had believed in building up the equity they had in Flamingo Diner. Every spare penny had been put back into the business. That equity ought to be worth something. And it was on a prime piece of real estate now that downtown Winter Cove was turning trendy.

“I could sell it,” she said slowly.

“You wouldn’t,” Helen replied with shock.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Rosa challenged. “Emma and Jeff aren’t interested. That leaves Andy, but why should I tie him down to a business he might not even want? Why not sell it and invest the money?” She was already warming to the idea. In fact, she could move back to Miami to be closer to her sisters. No one there would stare at her with pity the way so many of her friends had today. Of course, she wasn’t as close to her sisters as she was to Helen, Sylvia and Jolie, her three best friends.

“And do what?” Helen asked. “How would you spend your days?”

Right now the only thing that appealed to Rosa was sleeping through them. “I’d find plenty to do,” she said confidently. “Especially if I went back to Miami. I could work in my uncle’s restaurant. I could have Sunday dinners with my family, go to Mass at the church where I had my First Communion.”

And best of all, there were few memories of Don in Miami. They had met there, but the courtship had been brief and tumultuous. Then, immediately after the wedding, they’d moved to Winter Cove and opened Flamingo Diner, using every penny of both their savings to invest in their future.

Helen was staring at her as if she didn’t even know her. “Would you honestly rip Andy out of school here, just before his senior year? Would you be that selfish?”

Rosa felt Helen’s jab hit its target. She couldn’t do that to Andy. It would destroy his chances of getting into a good university with the football scholarship they were counting on. She sighed heavily, filled with regret.

“You’re right,” Rosa admitted reluctantly. “I’d have to wait.” She met Helen’s gaze and added defiantly, “But it’s still something to consider.”

“If I learned nothing else when Harrison died, I learned that it is not wise to make any sort of major decision when you’re grieving,” Helen told her. “Whatever you do, don’t make any hasty decisions. Promise me.”

Since Rosa didn’t feel capable of deciding what clothes to put on, much less what to do about the future, she nodded. “I promise.”

“That’s good, then,” Helen said, linking her arm through Rosa’s. “Now let’s get back out there. This will be over soon.”

“Not nearly soon enough,” Rosa said grimly.

Matt hovered in the background as the gathering at the Killians’ finally began to wind down. People had been coming and going for a couple of hours now, sharing stories about Don, reminding Emma and her mother of how much Flamingo Diner meant to them. He could see from the weariness in Emma’s eyes and the distance in Rosa’s that the words weren’t really registering. As for Jeff and Andy, they had disappeared back into the tree house. Matt had reassured himself on that point the second he’d realized they were gone. As long as Jeff focused on getting Andy through his grief, he couldn’t be somewhere else getting into the sort of mischief that could ruin his life.

Matt glanced around at the few remaining guests, most of whom were longtime friends. He wondered if any of them had any inkling of what had gone wrong in Don’s life. If they knew, would they eventually share what they knew with the family, stirring up the doubts about Don’s death that were already plaguing Emma?

If it was a suicide, then finding a motive wasn’t really his job, but Matt felt compelled to investigate, because Emma wouldn’t be at peace until they had one. She was going to push this, no matter where it led.

He spotted Gabe Jenkins and Harley Watson huddled together in a corner and wondered if they knew anything about what had tormented Don in his last weeks. Gabe was a cranky old geezer on his good days, but he and Harley somehow managed to get along, and Don had always found a few minutes to sit with them once the breakfast rush had died down at the diner. Matt doubted they’d exchanged any deep, dark secrets, but after knowing each other for a lot of years, there was no telling what they talked about. Matt wandered over, hoping to pick up some tidbit of information on the sly, but they were on to him at once.

“Might’s well come all the way over here, if you expect to hear what we’re saying,” Gabe told him irritably.

Matt grinned at having been caught. “I thought I’d wait to see if you were talking about anything interesting. I don’t want to be bored to death listening to you two moan about your prostates.”

Harley gave him a dark look. “We’re talking about life and death, if you must know. Can’t figure out how Don missed that curve. He drove along the lake twice a day at least, sometimes more. He knew the road. Was there any evidence that he was hit by another car?”

“None,” Matt admitted.

“He was smart, too,” Harley added. “I’d bet there was one of those gizmos in the car that can crack a windshield in an emergency. Why do you suppose he didn’t use it?”

Nothing in the report Matt had gotten just that morning indicated that there was a tool to shatter glass inside the car, but he agreed with Harley that it was the kind of thing Don would have, given the number of canals around Central Florida. He needed to check on that.

He tuned back in to what Gabe was saying.

“I just don’t get it. He had a great business, a terrific family—what more is there?”

“Nothing I can think of,” Matt agreed.

“You think the mob was after him?” Gabe asked with more enthusiasm than usual. “Maybe they ran him off the road.”

“Are you crazy?” Harley retorted. “What’s the matter with you, old man? Have you been watching The Sopranos again?”

“Only sopranos I know sing in the choir at church,” Gabe responded. “But everybody knows the mob likes to pokes its nose into all sorts of places asking for protection money. Maybe Don wouldn’t pay up.”

“Protection from what?” Harley demanded. “What kind of crime do we have in Winter Cove? Matt here sees to it that we don’t have a lot of criminals on the loose.”

“He does his part,” Gabe agreed with a nod in Matt’s direction. “Doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a little help. You never know.”

“I know,” Harley retorted, scowling fiercely.

“You don’t know everything.”

Matt decided it was time to step in before the two men came to blows. “I think we can safely assume that there was no mob involvement in this. I know a little bit about organized crime.”

Gabe nodded enthusiastically. “It’s rampant in the big cities, am I right?”

“I wouldn’t say rampant,” Matt countered. “But it does exist. I just don’t happen to think it’s made its way to Winter Cove, certainly not to the point where our residents are likely to be the target of a hit that’s made to look like an accident.”

“Maybe it wasn’t an accident at all,” Gabe suggested. “Maybe he killed himself because they were after him.”

“Oh, give it a rest, you old coot,” Harley said, regarding him with disgust.

“You got any better ideas about why a good driver like Don would wind up in the lake?” Gabe asked, clearly annoyed that his theory hadn’t been taken seriously. He turned to Matt. “You think there’s something funny about the way he died, too, don’t you?”

Matt refused to answer. He didn’t want to send their already wild imaginations into a frenzy. Who knew where that could lead?

Gabe regarded him with disgust. “Okay, don’t say it, Matthew. I can see the truth written all over your face. That’s what brought you sneaking over here to listen in on our conversation. You don’t think it was an accident any more than we do.” Before Matt could respond, Gabe turned to Harley. “I suppose you’ve got a theory.”

“A woman,” Harley said without hesitation. “When a man goes off his rocker, there’s always a woman involved, believe you me.”

“And you would know, wouldn’t you?” Gabe retorted. “What’s it been? Three marriages? Four?”

Harley frowned. “Five, if you must know, so yes, I think I know a thing or two about what a woman can drive a man to do.”

“Don had Rosa,” Gabe reminded him. “You ever seen two people more in love?”

“They’d been together a lot of years,” Harley persisted. “Sometimes a man gets to a certain age and decides to take a look around. Don was a friendly guy. A lot of women who came in the diner probably took a second look at him.”

“Any one in particular?” Matt inquired casually, even though he couldn’t imagine Don ever looking at anyone besides Rosa.

Harley looked pleased as punch that someone was taking him seriously. “Maureen Polk, maybe. She’s been looking to get married again. She’s even cast her eye in my direction.”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “Just shows the sort of taste she has. Don would never give a woman like that the time of day.”

“Anyone else?” Matt asked.

Harley’s expression turned thoughtful. “You know he was huddled with that Sawyer girl an awful lot.”

Gabe hooted. “Are you crazy? Jennifer Sawyer is young enough to be his daughter. She went to school with you, didn’t she, Matt?”

Matt nodded slowly, unwilling to comment. His own relationship with Jennifer hadn’t been common knowledge. He’d seen the financial consultant at Flamingo Diner just about every morning, but few people had suspected that they hadn’t simply bumped into each other there by accident. When Jennifer had wanted their relationship to go public and Matt had broken it off, he’d managed to avoid her. In all that time, Matt couldn’t recall Don paying any particular attention to Jennifer. Besides, Don wouldn’t so much as innocently flirt right under Rosa’s nose, much less start a torrid affair with a woman half his age. Matt wouldn’t believe it of him, not without hard proof. And for a while there, Jennifer hadn’t had time to be involved with another man. He could swear to that.

Harley’s expression turned sour. “Don’t either of you think that Don was above such a thing. There’s not a man on the planet who can’t be tied up in knots by a female, and that’s the truth. You talk to her, Matt. I’m willing to bet that Sawyer woman knows something.”

“Bet what?” Gabe demanded at once. “Put some money on the line and make it interesting.”

“The only place I bet is the racetrack,” Harley retorted piously. “And Gabe Jenkins, you should be ashamed of turning this into some sort of sleazy way to make a couple of bucks.”

Gabe did have the grace to look abashed by the criticism. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Matt regarded them both sternly. “I hope neither of you let Rosa or Emma hear your wild ideas. This has been difficult enough for them. Right now Don’s death is considered an accident, period. Are we clear on that?”

“Absolutely,” Harley said at once, obviously horrified that Matt would think he might share his speculation with the family.

“She won’t hear a word from me, either,” Gabe assured him.

Satisfied, Matt left them and went in search of Emma. She’d left the room a half hour earlier and hadn’t reappeared.

He found her out by the pool, sitting on the edge, her bare feet dangling in the water, her cheeks streaked with tears. The vulnerable expression in her eyes when she looked up tore at him.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked.

She shrugged.

Matt kicked off his shoes, ripped off his socks and rolled up his pants legs before dropping down beside her. The pool was bathwater warm. On any other occasion, he’d have been tempted to search for a spare bathing suit inside the house and jump right in.

“A swim would feel good about now,” he said just to make conversation.

“Believe me, I thought about jumping in with my clothes on, but I figured everyone would panic and think I was trying to drown myself,” Emma retorted with a wry glance in his direction.

“Emma, no one would make comparisons with what happened to your father. As far as most of the people here are concerned, he died in an accident.”

She gave him a skeptical look. “I saw you huddled with Gabe and Harley. They were good friends of Dad’s. Do they think it was an accident?”

“Gabe and Harley are bored. They’re always looking for excitement,” he said carefully.

“In other words, they think there’s something off with the way he died, too,” she said. “What do they know?”

“They don’t know anything,” Matt insisted. “They’re just speculating.”

She started to get to her feet. “I need to talk to them.”

“Not now,” he insisted, catching her hand and pulling her back down beside him. “I know everything they know and it’s nothing we can do anything about right this second. I’ll follow up on it tomorrow. You need to get some rest.”

“As if I can,” she said wearily. “Do you think any of us will be able to look at anyone else ever again without wondering if there’s some dark secret at work? If my dad could kill himself, is there anyone who’s not susceptible to suicide as a way out?”

“You,” Matt said with certainty. “And I wish you would stop saying that your dad killed himself. We don’t know that.”

“I do,” Emma said. “I don’t want to believe it, but I can’t ignore what my heart is telling me. As for me not being likely to kill myself, I don’t see how you can say that. Everyone always said Dad and I were a lot alike.”

“And you were, but you have your mother’s strength. Problems don’t daunt you. You pitch in and look for solutions.”

Emma seemed surprised by his analysis. “What makes you say that?”

Matt grinned. “Remember the time you broke your brother’s bike? You’d borrowed it without permission, then ended up smashing it into a tree. I’ve never seen such a mess, but when I came along you weren’t crying or wringing your hands. You looked me straight in the eye and asked me if I could sneak back to the house and get some tools and help you put it back together.”

She leaned into him for a second. “You were definitely my hero that day.”

Matt gazed into her eyes and barely resisted the desire to sigh. If only he could have stayed her hero.

Then again, maybe he was getting a second chance now, though he wondered how she’d feel if she knew he’d carried on a brief, but torrid affair with the woman Gabe and Harley thought might also have been linked to her father.

“You’re doing the same thing now,” he told her, forcing himself to focus on the present, not the past. “You’re trying to fix this, doing what needs to be done, even though your heart is breaking.”

“I suppose,” she said. “But it’s one thing to come home and organize a funeral, to get meals on the table, and try to lift everyone’s spirits. It’s quite another to know what to do next.”

“You’ll figure it out. When the time comes, the answer will come to you.”

She regarded him skeptically. “What if I don’t like the answer?”

He knew what she was really worried about. She was terrified that she was going to be needed here indefinitely, when her life—the life she loved—was elsewhere.

“Then you’ll come up with a better one,” he said confidently. “Or if there’s only one solution, then you’ll make peace with it.”

“You make it sound so easy,” she said, sounding wistful.

“Not easy,” Matt corrected. “I know nothing about this is easy, but I have every confidence that you’re up to the challenge.” He glanced over and saw the sad, lost expression on her face, and decided that what Emma needed more than anything right now was to get her mind off the future. He elbowed her gently in the ribs to get her attention.

“Last one to the other end is a rotten egg,” he taunted, already shoving off the edge of the pool.

She stared after him in shock. Then a grin slowly spread across her face and she, too, pushed off.

Emma was a strong swimmer, more than strong enough to be a match for his greater height and head start. They touched the far end of the pool at the same instant and came out of the water laughing.

“You’re crazy,” she said, but her eyes were sparkling for the first time since she’d returned home.

Matt figured that ruining his best suit pants in all that chlorine was a small price to pay to see Emma happy. It might be a very temporary fix, but at least it was a reminder to both of them that life went on, that laughter was still possible even in the face of tragedy.

Just then she reached up, her hand cool against his cheek. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“For?”

“This. Everything.”

Matt turned his head and pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand. “Anytime, darlin’. Anytime.”

Still soaking wet and dripping all over the tile floor in the kitchen, Emma ran smack into her mother, who regarded her with a horrified expression.

“What on earth were you thinking?” Rosa demanded. “We’ve just buried your father and you’re jumping into the pool with your clothes on. What will people say?”

Before Emma could reply that she didn’t give two figs what anyone thought, she sensed Matt stepping up behind her.

“It’s my fault,” he told her mother. “I fell in and Emma had to rescue me.”

Rosa scowled at both of them as if they were fourteen again. “As if I’m likely to believe that. Emma, go change your clothes. Jack Lawrence wants to talk to us. Matthew, go up to my room and find something of Don’s to put on before you go home.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Matt said meekly, then winked at Emma as he passed by.

Emma stood where she was, shivering in the air-conditioned room. “Why does Mr. Lawrence need to see us tonight?”

Rosa sighed. “It’s about your father’s will.”

“Can’t that wait?”

“He says not.”

Emma touched her mother’s pale face. “Are you up to this?”

“No, but it appears I have no choice. Now, hurry and change, please. Let’s get this over with. Jeff and Andy are already waiting.”

Emma changed clothes quickly and ran a comb through her damp hair. She said a quick goodbye to Matt in the hallway, then drew in a deep breath before joining her mother and brothers in the living room.

Jack Lawrence, her parents’ lawyer, had a sheaf of papers in front of him and a somber expression on his face that made her catch her breath. He nodded when Emma walked in, then began to speak in what she assumed to be the tone he deliberately chose for sad occasions. No normal human being talked in such a low, falsely soothing monotone.

“As you know, I have been this family’s attorney for many years now. As soon as I heard the terrible news about Don, I began gathering the information I knew you would need to move on with your lives. I have his will here, which is simple enough. If it’s all right with all of you, I’ll dispense with a formal reading and just explain it.”

“Please,” Rosa said, as if she would agree to anything that shortened the proceedings.

“Okay, then,” the attorney said. “Everything is left in your name Rosa, with provisions that it be divided equally among Emma, Jeff and Andy after your death.”

Emma glanced at her mother and noted that she’d clenched her hands so tightly that the knuckles were white.

“What exactly are our assets?” Rosa asked. “Don had insurance policies.”

The attorney looked uncomfortable. “I’ve looked into those. Because his death hasn’t…” He stopped, censored himself, and tried again. “Because Don’s death hasn’t officially been ruled an accident, they won’t pay. Not yet, at any rate. Of course, once there’s an official ruling, I’m sure that money will come to you.”

Emma watched her mother’s face as the attorney spoke. She showed no reaction to his pointed remark about the death not having been ruled an accident. Once again she wondered if her mother shared her suspicions about it being deliberate. Was that why she’d been so angry, why she’d refused to see her friends? Because she didn’t want to voice her fear that her husband had committed suicide?

“I see,” Rosa said, her voice weak and clearly strained. “What do we have?”

“There’s your joint checking account. A small retirement account. This house and, of course, Flamingo Diner. Rosa, I’m sure you have a better sense of your cash flow than I do, but as long as the diner stays operating, I imagine you’ll be just fine financially. The mortgage payment is a little higher than I anticipated, but you’ve been managing for months now, so there’s no reason to assume you won’t be able to continue to do so.”

Her mother’s complexion paled. “We can’t possibly have a high mortgage payment on the diner. We took out that loan nearly thirty years ago. We should be within months, maybe a year, of paying it off.”

The attorney looked taken aback by her claim. “Rosa, I’m afraid there’s been some mistake. According to the records I have, the loan won’t be paid off for another fourteen years. Don refinanced and took out a fifteen-year note on the diner just a year ago.”

Emma reached for her mother’s hand, found it to be cold as ice. “How can that be?” she asked. “Surely my mother wouldn’t be mistaken about something like that.”

“All I know is what the bank reported to me,” Jack said defensively. “The loan on the house should be paid off about the same time. It was refinanced last year as well.”

“Oh, my God,” Rosa whispered, looking shocked. “What did he do to us?”

Emma, Jeff and Andy watched helplessly as their mother ran from the room, listened as the door slammed shut behind her. Her sobs echoed through the stunned silence.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, looking at Emma. “I had no idea she didn’t know.” He gathered his papers together, then met Emma’s gaze. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do, anything at all.”

Emma doubted she would be calling on him. For the moment, he’d done quite enough to further shatter their once secure world. As for her, any last hope she’d had of being able to go back to Washington in the near future was pretty much dashed to bits. Far worse, with the revelations about the financial mess her father had created and hidden from her mother, any slim shred of hope she’d clung to that her father’s death had been an accident had been snapped in two.