Dead in a Flash Page 10

  As Cyrus excused himself and went over to greet them, I remembered where I’d first encountered him. He’d been the one who wheeled in a cart for us to transport the scrapbooks and stands to the banquet hall. I’d thought he was a bellman.

  seven

  AS I WAS PASSING THROUGH the lobby, I saw the senator come out of the elevator. I started to go over and speak to him, but saw he was approaching a man at the check-in desk. They shook hands and as they talked, the senator’s expression was grave. The other man’s back was to me, so I couldn’t see him. He slumped and Senator Stan embraced him and clapped him on the shoulder. After a moment they walked back toward the elevators. This had to be Lincoln’s father, although it could well have been a relative of Senator Stan’s. They had the same lanky build and rolling walk, though both were bent now with the burden of grief.

  Not wanting to intrude, I waited for the next elevator, and as I stepped out on the top floor Chelsea was coming out of her room, her movements stiff. Her eyes were red and puffy and her skin looked sallow and bloodless.

  I stopped to give her my condolences.

  “So you knew about Lincoln and me? How?”

  “I’ve got eyes,” I said. “It was clear how he felt about you and I assumed it was mutual.”

  “It was,” she said, tears welling. “I was just going out to get some fresh air.” She looked toward the elevator with both longing and dread.

  “Would you like company or would you rather be alone?” I asked.

  “I’d like you to walk with me. Do you have time?”

  “Sure,” I said, resolving to put everything I needed to do out of my mind.

  Once outside, Chelsea drew in a gulp of air as if she’d been underwater so long her lungs were caving. “I know everyone means well, but I feel like I’m suffocating,” she said. “Could we walk down to the lake?”

  At first I thought she meant she wanted to go to the spot where Lincoln died, but the thought must have showed on my face. “Not there, just down by the boat launch or somewhere. Just so it’s by the water.”

  I veered off the path and beckoned her to follow.

  “I grew up in a house beside a riverbank,” she said by way of explanation. “I like to be near water. I was happy there once upon a time.”

  “Where was this?” I asked.

  “Out east, near the coast. Our county had the distinction of being the poorest in the state,” she said with a sad smile. “And my family contributed to the demographic. We were poor—I mean like dirt poor—but the funny thing is, I didn’t even realize that until I was twelve or thirteen years old. There was always food. And somehow we had clothes and shoes. Always clean, no matter how threadbare. Our mother was a miracle worker when it came to marshaling what few resources we had. She died when I was fourteen, and things sort of fell apart after that.”

  “How about your father, what’s he like?” I asked.

  “He died when I was twenty. He was a good man, quiet and earnest. But he had a stubborn streak about some things and one of them was taking government assistance. When he and my mom first married, he worked at a small manufacturing plant out on the western end of the Piedmont and earned a decent living. They’d just had my brother back then and life was pretty good. Paycheck to paycheck, but still good. Then in the late seventies the bottom dropped out and the plant got bought. The new owners hauled off everything worth a dime, then shuttered the place. They took all the workers willing to move to Ohio and let the rest go. Dad didn’t want to go and he wouldn’t take public assistance and things spiraled down fast. Lincoln was a lot like that. Not about government assistance, but about other things. He had these principles—at least he would’ve called them principles—and he was unbending sometimes.” She choked up and I waited while she regained her composure.

  “Anyway, by the time I came along, my folks were living in a tiny little house out east, and that was only through the largesse of a cousin of my mother’s. Dad did odd jobs and somehow kept our heads above water, no pun intended.” She looked over at me as we walked. “Do you always have this effect on people? Making them blather on about themselves?”

  “Only on people who like to talk, or need to,” I said with a smile. “So you have a brother?”

  “Yes,” Chelsea said with a sigh. “I visit him once a month. He’s in Central Prison in Raleigh. He got tired of being poor and when he was eighteen, he decided armed robbery was the way out. He wasn’t good at it. He’ll be eligible for parole in another two years. There’s hope for him.”

  “So how did you make your way out of your humble beginnings?”

  “Dinah Leigh,” she said. “And some others, too. I had a teacher in high school who took an interest in me. She was kind and encouraging and determined that I’d get a shot at college. That seemed like a pipe dream to me, but she kept at me to send in an application for the scholarship Dinah Leigh offered. I had to go for a personal interview and I’d never been so scared in my life. But Dinah Leigh put me at ease and I got through it. And the next thing I know, I’m in college, then I’m in Dinah Leigh’s office filing and stapling, then I’m her personal assistant.”

  “It’s obvious she values you,” I said. “Do you enjoy the job?”

  “What’s not to love,” Chelsea said. “I’ve had the opportunity to travel and I’ve learned so much from her, about business and about life. I never even imagined how people of means lived before. And, most of all, I adore Dinah Leigh. She’s very good to me. But she’ll be stepping down from the company within the next few years. She’s grooming a nephew of Mr. Dodd’s to take over the company since neither of their own children is interested. I don’t like the nephew much and I have no interest in being just a social secretary to Dinah Leigh, so I’ll be looking for other opportunities. But I hope I’ll always stay close to Dinah Leigh.”

  We reached the boat launch and turned to walk across an expanse of manicured lawn toward a mossy embankment. We tested the earth, which was only slightly damp, and sat down.

  “Lincoln and I had an agreement,” she said, her eyes settling on a tree limb floating a few feet away in the lake. “A five-year plan.” She laughed, a small, muffled sound. “He said we shouldn’t call it that because it sounded communistic. Anyway, after the senator’s book was finished, he’d spend the next year writing his dissertation to complete his doctorate. Then he’d look for a job at one of the colleges or universities around Charlotte and I’d stay with Dinah Leigh through her transition into retirement. Then we’d get married.”

  “Wow,” I said. “That’d be a long engagement.” I wondered if Jack and I would take that long to discover if we were in it for the long haul.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Except I didn’t even want to get engaged. I mean not officially, not publicly. I didn’t want anyone to know we were even involved. We kept it secret. At least I thought we did; clearly we didn’t fool you. It all seems so stupid now, but I couldn’t think about telling Dinah Leigh. I was afraid she’d see it as me betraying all her kindnesses if I even thought about leaving her.”

  “She doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who’d hold you in forced servitude,” I said. “She’d want you to be happy.”

  “She would,” Chelsea said, and now the tears couldn’t be held back. “But it’s a moot point now. Do you ever think about how your whole life can change in the blink of an eye? How one thoughtless act can bring your whole world crashing down? After what’s happened I don’t think I’ll ever be happy again.”

  * * *

  Lenora’s suite had become the hub for logistics. Damon was sitting at a desk by the window making phone calls and ticking off check marks on a list, and Emma was helping Lenora with a list of people whose phone calls should be returned. J.D. and Gabriela were sitting side by side on a love seat looking at the scrapbooks we’d made for the senator.

  “Thank you so much for coming out to get these, Sophreena,” Lenora said, handing me a bag stuffed full of cards and papers.

&nb
sp; “No problem,” I said. “Is there anything else I can do?”

  Lenora sighed. “Not that I can think of, but you’re a dear to ask. Lincoln’s father just arrived and he and Stan are having some private time together.”

  “I think I may have seen him downstairs with the senator. Is he about this tall and slender like the senator?” I asked.

  “I expect so,” Lenora said. “I haven’t seen Samuel in years. When we lived out in the country, all the kids went to the same school but he’s quite a bit younger, so we wouldn’t have had much association even then. And once we moved into town I didn’t see much of the Coopers at all.”

  “I didn’t realize you knew them,” I said. “I thought it was Ken Dodd who recommended Lincoln to the senator.”

  “Oh, it was,” Lenora said. “But as it happens, Lincoln and Ken were at Duke together and lived in the same dorm. And they were on some sort of intramural team, rugby or squash or something. They became pals and when Ken heard Stan was looking for someone, he told him he thought Lincoln would be a good fit and it all went from there.”

  “Will Ken be able to stay for a while or is he due back to his posting?” I asked.

  “He’ll be here until after Conrad’s wedding. He was due for his break anyway.”

  “That’s good,” I said. “At least he’ll have a happy occasion before he goes back. It’s hard to lose a friend.”

  “Yes, he’s very sad,” Lenora said, “and very concerned about Chelsea. She’s taking this so hard. Course, why wouldn’t she, she and Lincoln were practically engaged.”

  “Really?” I asked, surprised this was coming from Lenora.

  She nodded. “We all knew they were in love. They both thought they were the very soul of discretion. It was sweet, really, but nobody was fooled. And now he’s gone and we’ll never have a chance to share their joy in each other. It’s just so sad.”

  I agreed and hefted the bag in her direction. “I’d best get out of your hair. If there’s anything we can do, please don’t hesitate to call. We’re not far away.”

  “Well, there is one thing. Most of us will be going back to Quinn County for the funeral. Lily Rose isn’t up to the trip, so she’ll stay behind. If you wouldn’t mind, maybe you or Esme could look in on her while we’re away? Sarah’s going to stay with her, but I’m sure she’d welcome company.”

  “We’d be happy to,” I said. We’d spent a lot of time with Lily Rose Sawyer while preparing the senator’s narrative and scrapbooks, and both Esme and I enjoyed her dry humor and lively wit.

  “That would be lovely. I offered to stay with her and let Sarah go to the funeral, but she’s not willing to leave her mother and she thinks maybe I’d be more comfort to Stan, though I don’t know if that’s true. I’m not sure there’s comfort to be had for him right now.”

  I asked if she knew where I might find Dinah Leigh or Conrad, and she said she’d seen them down in the restaurant just before I arrived. As I started for the door, Emma gave me a beseeching look.

  I felt sorry for her. This surely wasn’t the way any sixteen-year-old would wish to spend spring break. Without thinking it through, I asked if she’d like to come to my house to put the cards and testimonials into the scrapbook—a job I could have handled in fifteen short minutes, but which would probably take longer with her help.

  “Sure thing,” Emma said. “Is it okay, Aunt Lenora?”

  “You need to check with your mother, but I suspect it’d be all right,” Lenora said.

  “You ask your mom and I’ll go find Dinah Leigh,” I said. “Text me if she says it’s okay.”

  “Check,” Emma said.

  I berated myself all the way down on the elevator. Since when did I get so maternal? Or at least big-sisterly. I’d probably lose two hours of productive work by having Emma with me. But I’d done it now and there was no going back. Maybe Sarah would say no. I could hope.

  Too, I was wondering if I should’ve pushed Chelsea harder to get information about the night Lincoln died. And what she’d meant by that remark about “one thoughtless act.” But she’d seemed so fragile, I hadn’t had the heart to push. So we’d simply sat for a few silent minutes, watching as two novice kayakers struggled to find their equilibrium on the lake’s placid surface.

  I was relieved to find Dinah Leigh and her party in the casual dining restaurant, which was still plenty fancy by my admittedly low standards. Patricia and Marc Benton, Conrad, Phoebe, and Aunt Yvonne were with her. They all looked up as I approached, and welcomed me with undue enthusiasm. I soon learned why—the tension in the little group was tight as a guitar string.

  After a little social chitchat, I asked a few follow-up questions pertaining to the information I’d gotten in the interviews with Conrad and Yvonne and verified a few names.

  Aunt Yvonne was again disdainful of delving into family history, opining that so much dwelling on the past was unhealthy, a ridiculous waste of time, and a “silly thing for a grown man to be doing.”

  “Oh, but Aunt Yvonne,” Phoebe said, her soft voice placating. “It’s important to know who we come from. And it will be important to future generations, which is why it’s especially important to Conrad and me right now. We’re about to produce a member of that new generation.” She leaned over to nuzzle at Conrad’s shoulder, a brilliant smile lighting her face.

  “I thought we agreed not to share our news just yet,” Conrad whispered into the stunned silence around the table.

  “Oh, don’t be so prudish, Conrad. Babies get started before the wedding vows are said all the time these days.”

  “It’s not that,” Conrad said, his expression pained. “It’s more that this period of grief doesn’t seem quite the appropriate moment.”

  “Oh, I see what you mean,” Phoebe said. “But really, darling, that’s even more reason to share joyous news of new life. Don’t y’all think so?”

  The silence continued for a long moment before Dinah Leigh let out a whoop. “That’s fantastic!” she said. “A little Conrad’s on the way.”

  Patricia leaned across the table. “Yes, great and all,” she said, in a tone that belied the words. “But do you have a good doctor? I mean, you must have concerns? You’re kind of an older mom-to-be . . .”

  Marc, a smile frozen on his tanned face, put what I’d begun to think of as the inhibitor arm around his wife’s shoulders and squeezed. It looked like a loving gesture, but I could see his fingers turning white.

  “Patricia!” Dinah Leigh said, turning a palm toward her daughter’s face. “This is happy news, and that’s something we all desperately need right now. I won’t have your snide remarks.”

  “It’s okay,” Conrad said. “I know some are going to find this unsettling. And yes, I have visions of shuffling into the child’s high school graduation with the assistance of a walker with those little tennis balls affixed to the legs, but I’m over the moon at the prospect of being a father and I have every intention of being around to raise this child to adulthood. I’d imagined this was a gift that had passed me by.”

  “Me, too,” said Phoebe. “But here I am, and here’s little Conrad, or maybe it will be a girl. I think Dinah has a nice ring to it, don’t you?” she said, nodding in Dinah Leigh’s direction. “And while it’s early days yet, everything seems to be going fine, Patricia. Thanks for your concern. We have a very good doctor who’s monitoring me closely. And speaking of which, she’s instructed me to put my feet up for a while each afternoon. I think I’ll go do just that.” She pushed back from the table, and Conrad hopped up to assist her.

  “I’ll just go put my feet up, too,” Conrad said. “Sympathetic napping. Text me if you hear anything about the arrangements for the funeral, would you?”

  Their departure broke the luncheon up, and Dinah Leigh went off to the spa with a grumbling Aunt Yvonne in tow. I hit the ladies’ room and when I came back into the hallway, Patricia and Marc were standing between me and the elevators arguing loudly, clearly unaware of how their voice
s carried.

  “For pity’s sake, Marc,” Patricia hissed. “It’s not like I’m courting voters, they’re family. And anyway, they’re not even in my district. I’m sick of biting my tongue. I should be able to say what I mean some of the time. I’m not a robot.”

  Marc put his head down and pinched the bridge of his nose. “More’s the pity, Patricia,” he said, his voice mournful. “Then I could have you reprogrammed. You’re going to have to file down that sharp tongue of yours, at least until after you get elected. I’m not doing all this for my health, you know. Keep in mind you’ve got to get into this first office before we can use it as a stepping-stone to something bigger. Now, get a grip.”

  He stalked away and she gave his back a look that could’ve melted plastic, then her eyes shifted and she spotted me. She gave me a rueful smile. “Apparently I lack finesse,” she said.

  “It was big news; nobody was prepared for it,” I said. Then, struggling for something to say, I asked if she was going to Lincoln’s funeral.

  “Yes. Marc insists it’d look bad if I don’t go, so I let him think I don’t want to so I can earn points for cooperating. But I want to go and pay my respects. That kind of game playing is my life these days. The truth is, I liked Lincoln Cooper. He was a good guy and uncommonly smart. I learned more about policy from him in a ten-minute conversation than I do from Marc and the assembly of wonks he’s sicced on me in a month. I’m really upset about what happened to Lincoln, but these days, my distress seems to manifest in really unattractive ways. Some women claim they cry ugly—it seems I live ugly these days.”

  Her voice was soft and I could see the words were heartfelt. It took me aback.

  “Do you have anyone to talk with about it? How about your brother? I know he’s upset as well,” I said. “He and Lincoln were close friends from what I hear.”

  “Were being the operative word,” Patricia said, the acerbic tone back. “Everybody thinks Ken is such a saint. Well, he’s not. This whole doctor-volunteer thing is just to polish his image so he can get on staff at a prestigious research hospital and never have to touch a patient again. And yeah, he and Lincoln were friends. So much so he recommended him to the senator.” She laughed but there was no merriment in it. “But there were unforeseen consequences. Contact with the senator meant more contact with us, ergo more contact with Chelsea. I think Ken’s plan was to spend his volunteer time deciding if he wanted her or not and if it turned out he did, he’d come back and deign to let her marry him. I don’t think it even occurred to him she might make alternate plans. He was shocked when he realized Lincoln had repaid him by poaching his woman. He was not a happy camper. I, on the other hand, found it gloriously karmic.”