Deadly Ever After by Eva Gates (distant reading .txt) 📗

a week in the library. You get no vacation time. Let’s go. Oh, for heaven’s sake. The dog’s only visiting. She isn’t usurping your position.” I marched across the room, picked the big cat up, and put him on the floor outside. He sauntered toward the stairs without a backward glance, head high, hips swinging, tail erect. When I glanced behind me into the apartment, Fluffy was stretching luxuriously across the full length of the window seat.

I arrived at the Ocean Side Hotel at two minutes to eight. I was running up the steps when the cruiser with Watson and Holly Rankin pulled up. I waited in the lobby for them.

“I shouldn’t be surprised to see you, Lucy,” Watson said. “But I am.”

“Evangeline called Mom, and Mom called me.”

“This isn’t a public event, Lucy. I could have had Officer Rankin escort Mrs. Lewiston to the police station, but I decided, in light of the early hour, I’d come here instead. Was that a mistake?”

“No. I’ll tell Mom we can’t stay.”

He nodded and headed to the elevators. Holly and I scurried after him. It was early, but guests were stirring, ready for breakfast in the restaurant or going out for a day on the water or at the beach.

Quite a crowd had gathered in Evangeline’s suite. Mom was there, once again fresh and dewy and perfectly turned out. Ricky looked rumpled, badly shaven, and not happy. A man I didn’t know stood next to Evangeline. He was about my age, short and slight, with Coke-bottle-bottom glasses and brown hair artfully arranged to stand up above his forehead. He wore a dark suit with a perfectly knotted blue tie and a spotless starched white collar and cuffs.

Watson focused on him. “I’m Detective Sam Watson, NHPD. Who are you?”

“Stephen Livingstone. Attorney with Richardson Lewiston.”

“You called a lawyer, Mrs. Lewiston? That is, of course, your prerogative, but you are not under arrest. I simply have some further questions about the death of your husband.”

“I didn’t call Stephen,” Evangeline said, “but I’m glad he’s here. We can’t have you continuing to browbeat my son and I.”

I decided this wasn’t the time to correct Evangeline’s grammar. The proper phrase would have been my son and me.

“Hardly browbeating,” Watson said. “If the rest of you will excuse us …”

My mom stood up. Ricky crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair.

“All of you,” Watson said. “Please leave. Except Mrs. Lewiston and her attorney.”

Ricky huffed and slowly got to his feet.

“Hi.” Stephen grabbed my hand and pumped it enthusiastically. “So pleased to meet you. You must be Lucy, Mr. Richardson’s daughter. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“You have?”

“Come along, Lucy,” Mom said. “Don’t dawdle.”

Mom walked out of the room. I followed, and Ricky brought up the rear.

“Where’d he come from?” I asked when the door had closed behind us. “Did you ask the firm to send a lawyer, Ricky?”

“I didn’t. If I need representation, I’m good with your uncle and his partner. I looked them up last night, and she’s got a mighty powerful track record.”

“Your father called me last night after you left,” Mom said, “to say he was sending someone down. If the reputation of the firm is in anyway threatened by these events, he wants someone here, on the ground.”

“Fair enough,” I said.

“Have you had breakfast yet?” Ricky asked.

“I haven’t had time for so much as a cup of coffee,” I said. “It’s supposed to be my day off.”

“Good. I’m starving.”

“Might as well,” Mom said. “Evangeline will call when they’re finished.”

“Let’s get a seat by the door,” Ricky said. “So we can see the cops leave.”

“Did Evangeline say why Watson wanted to talk to her again?” I asked Mom when we were seated at a spacious table for six in the hotel’s bright, cheerful restaurant, with full coffee mugs and open menus.

The restaurant was less than half-full, and the low buzz of conversation swirled around us. The morning sun streamed through the east-facing windows, and the air was fragrant with the delicious scents of morning: coffee, toast, bacon.

“She doesn’t know,” Ricky answered. “At least they didn’t haul her down to the police station as though she were a common criminal. Like they did to other people I could mention.”

I added a healthy slug of cream to my coffee and stirred. “Mom?”

“She didn’t say. Unlikely Watson told her.”

“It might not be about anything new. They have people go over their statements more than once, looking for inconsistencies or forgotten details.”

“Ready to order?” the waitress asked.

Mom chose the yogurt parfait, Ricky asked for a double stack of pancakes with sausages, and I threw caution to the wind and ordered the smoked-salmon eggs Benedict. My relaxing morning and my day off had been ruined, so I might as well get something out of it.

“I don’t suppose,” I said, once the waitress had left, “you thought of anything new last night.”

“Nope,” Ricky said.

“What did you do after leaving the police station?”

He avoided my eyes. “Nothing much.”

“If you’ve stayed on to be a support to your mother,” Mom said, “going out and leaving her alone isn’t the best way to go about it.”

He lifted his head and stared at her. “I don’t believe that’s any of your business, Suzanne.”

She sipped at her coffee. Somehow, in all the turmoil of yesterday, she’d managed to find the time to get a fresh manicure. She put the cup carefully down in front of her. “It would appear, Richard, that you and your family have made it our business. Believe me, I’d rather be at home, and Lucy has better things to be doing. Instead we’re here, because your mother has asked for my support. I’m happy to provide it out of respect for her loss and for the years we’ve known each other, although at times we could scarcely have been considered friends. If you believe I’m wasting my time, please tell me, and my daughter and I will be on our way.” She plucked her napkin off her lap, folded it, and