Death in Reel Time Page 5

  Olivia frowned. “What in the world happened to your arm?” she asked, tracing a long, nasty scrape along his forearm.

  “Little farm mishap,” he said. “Two of the goats conspired to push a gate open. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s nothing. I’ll go find Tony and press him into service until Beth gets here. He’ll have some appetizers out to y’all in a jiffy. Dinner will be served in about an hour. Hope you’re all hungry.”

  We chatted companionably, but I noticed Olivia didn’t seem herself. On closer inspection I could see she had her own assortment of small injuries, souvenirs from her afternoon’s misadventure. She’d broken fingernails, scrubbed up her knuckles, and had a blooming bruise on her ankle that was only visible when the hem of her pants hiked slightly. Daniel hadn’t noticed. I wondered if Olivia would report the incident to Daniel or Beth later, and debated whether I should rat her out if she didn’t. I leaned toward her and asked if she was okay.

  “I’m fine,” she assured me, grasping my hand. “I’m a little concerned about where Beth is, though. It’s not like her to be so late. And without calling.”

  “Would you like me to go call her?” I asked.

  “Yes, please, would you do that? I’ll enjoy myself more if I know what’s holding her up.”

  I stepped out to the kitchen, where Daniel was in his element. He was moving with efficient speed and directing Tony to do the same. I held up my phone. “Your mom is worried about Beth and wants me to call, but I don’t have her number.”

  He nodded toward a list on a bulletin board hung by an old-fashioned wall phone. I called both Beth’s home number and her cell and got voice mail each time. “Maybe she’s somewhere with Blaine,” I said. “Will he be joining us, too?”

  “Blaine wasn’t invited,” Daniel said, his voice flat. “But I’m getting a little worried myself. This is not like her.”

  “Want me to go over to her house and see if she’s there?” Tony asked.

  “Yeah, that’d be great,” Daniel said, “but take the appetizers out first, please.”

  Tony held the tray high, fancy-waiter style, and I followed in his wake, half convinced the enticing aromas wafting from the tray might actually be able to lift me right off my feet like in the cartoons.

  I slipped in next to Olivia and whispered to her that I hadn’t been able to reach Beth, but that Tony was going over to check on her.

  She smiled and nodded, moving a stack of magazines from the coffee table so Tony could put the tray down. Daniel followed a moment later with a huge tray laden with three pitchers, tumblers filled with ice, and some stemware.

  “Jack, would you play bartender so I can get back to the kitchen?” he asked, then pointed to each pitcher in turn. “There’s ginger iced tea, raspberry lemonade, and sangria. Please, enjoy.”

  When he had gone I picked up a little cocktail plate. I tried to be dainty but by the time I was done I’d piled one of everything onto it. There were stuffed mushrooms, some kind of tiny tart, figs stuffed with goat cheese, and several things I couldn’t identify but was eager to try.

  We heard Tony’s motorcycle start up and I winced involuntarily, awaiting the backfire, but I heard him pull out onto the street and purr away with no startling bang this time. We laughed and talked for a while longer, then Daniel came to check that we had everything we needed. I considered telling him I’d like every appetizer he had left in the kitchen put into a doggy bag for me to eat later, but I resisted.

  Tony was gone for quite some time and when he returned I didn’t hear his motorcycle in time to prepare myself. The backfire almost made me dump my plate of goodies into my lap. Tony made quite a striking picture standing in the doorway in his black motorcycle jacket. He carried his helmet by the strap in one hand and pushed his hair back with the other. “No answer at the door,” he reported. “But her car’s there and I think I heard the shower running inside. She’ll probably be along soon.” The helmet slipped from his grasp and rolled over to the baseboard. I saw him grimace as he reached for it and noticed that the fingers on his right hand were horribly swollen. Had they been that way earlier? I didn’t have time to ask.

  Daniel clapped his hands together and announced, “I think we’ll have to go ahead without her or else dinner’s going to be ruined.”

  Olivia seemed about to protest, but after a moment’s hesitation she managed a wobbly smile. “Yes, I’m sure she’ll understand. Something must have come up. Oh, and I forgot, they’re with one car; maybe Blaine had the car, maybe that’s why she’s late. Anyway, she can join us whenever she gets here.”

  We’d made it through the salad course and still Beth hadn’t arrived. I was annoyed with her since I was a little worried now, too, and I couldn’t concentrate every cell in my body on enjoying the food, which even my untrained palate found extraordinary. Daniel and Tony started bringing in the main course of salmon topped with a chopped salsa-type stuff, tiny herbed potatoes the size of jelly beans, and asparagus with some kind of yummy yellow sauce. We were halfway through dinner when Beth appeared in the porch doorway, her hair wet and her clothing slightly rumpled. She was pale but there was high color in her cheeks and her eyes glinted.

  “I am so sorry,” she said, looking up and down the table as if she weren’t entirely sure where she was. “I was,” she said, then there was a moment of silence as if she was trying to remember something. “I just let the time get away from me,” she said finally. She slipped into her seat, then seemed startled by a thought. “Oh, Daniel, I’m so sorry. Can I help?”

  “Everything’s under control,” he said, giving her a tepid smile. “Tony stepped in. Glad you could make it.”

  “Good, that’s good,” she said, settling back in place and unfolding her napkin. She had her head down and her movements were strangely slow and measured. Esme and I exchanged looks. Something wasn’t right.

  The conversation resumed and Daniel went to the kitchen to get Beth’s plate. As he put it in front of her he bent down to whisper in her ear. She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. I assumed he was asking her if she was okay. I also assumed she was lying through her teeth when she indicated she was.

  In contrast to the rest of us, who did everything but pick up our plates and lick them, Beth pecked at her food, frowning occasionally as if she’d tasted something odd. I wondered if she’d actually been the one who hadn’t wanted to invest in Daniel’s restaurant because she didn’t like his food. If that was the case, she had buckshot for taste buds.

  We lingered for a while over dinner and Beth excused herself from the table twice. She seemed unsteady on her feet and I saw Olivia’s worried gaze follow as she left the room each time.

  Daniel invited us to retire to the living room for dessert and coffee—key lime pie and a chocolate almond torte, which made me sorely regret not planning ahead and saving room for both.

  The doorbell rang as we were filing in. Olivia was already seated and Daniel and Tony were both carrying trays, so Esme went to answer the door.

  I heard her voice take on a particular lilt and I detoured to the front hall.

  “Couldn’t stay away, could you?” Esme said to the visitor. “You were invited as my plus-one, you know, and you said you couldn’t make it. You missed a fine, fine dinner, but you can still join us for dessert.”

  The door opened wider and I saw Detective Denton Carlson of the Morningside Police Department standing on the front porch. Denny is a very large African-American man and one of the few around who could be a match for Esme, in size and in many other ways as well. They’d been dating for more than a year now, though she still refused to call it that. According to her they were just “passing time” together. Esme’s an independent woman, sometimes to a fault.

  “Hey,” I called. “I thought you were on duty tonight.”

  “I am,” he said with a sigh. “Sorry, Esme, I’m not here to see you, though I’m always happy at the sight of you.” He gave her a half smile. “Is Bethany Branch here?”


  “Yes, she’s in here,” I said, jerking a thumb back over my shoulder.

  “I need to see her,” Denny said, stepping across the threshold, his big body filling the doorway. “It’s official business, I’m sad to say.”

  He walked purposefully to the archway into the living room, Esme and I trailing behind him. Everyone looked up, smiling, and then the smiles faded, one by one, as they took in the look on his face.

  He nodded a general greeting, scanning the room until his eyes lit on Beth and locked. “Beth, could I have a word with you in private?” he asked.

  She looked back at him and seemed to have trouble bringing him into focus.

  “Why would you want to do that?” she asked.

  “Bad news, I’m afraid,” he said. “I really need to speak with you.”

  She didn’t move and didn’t seem to comprehend what she’d been asked to do.

  I could see he was deciding whether to push further to get her alone. Finally he walked over and pulled a chair in front of her. He sat, his knees almost touching hers, and took her hand.

  “It’s your husband, Beth. There’s been an incident. I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but Blaine’s dead.”

  five

  A SHOCKED SILENCE FELL OVER the room and for the first time I realized what people mean when they say it was as if time stood still. Beth stared at Denny, an eerie, perplexed smile on her face.

  “No, he’s not dead,” she said. “It’s not that. Not that at all. I did yard work today; there were so many leaves to rake. The shade is lovely in the summer, but then you have all those leaves.” She put out a hand, palm open. “I’ve got blisters even though I wore work gloves the whole time.”

  “Beth,” Denny said, cupping her shoulder with his hand. “Beth, I’m sorry, but Blaine is dead. There’s no mistake. We found him in the lake about a half hour ago.”

  Olivia let out a sound that was somewhere between a squawk and a gasp and moved quickly to Beth’s side. Winston stood to let Daniel get to her as well, but Beth shrugged off her mother’s embrace and wiggled out to stand near the window, fists clenched at her sides. “That’s not right,” she insisted. “It wasn’t that hard, only who would think two trees could make that many leaves. Really? I just get so tired. I can’t go on like this. I can’t be the one who—”

  Suddenly she stopped babbling and it was as if her core had melted. She crumpled to the floor before anyone had a chance to catch her. Out cold.

  Olivia, Marydale, and Coco immediately formed a triage team, scurrying to get cool cloths and smelling salts. They seemed to know what they were doing. The guys looked on helplessly and I asked if I should call 911. Olivia shook her head. “I think it’s the shock. Let’s give her a minute.”

  The rest of us stepped across the hall to the dining room while the women, Daniel, and Tony saw to Beth. Almost everyone had been stunned into a speechless stupor or else they were trying to be circumspect, but Esme was neither. She set right in on Denny, shooting questions rapid fire. What happened? Was it an accident? A car wreck? Where did it happen? Was he absolutely sure it was Blaine?

  Denny held up a hand. “Look,” he said, glancing around the group before his eyes came back to rest on Esme. “You know I trust you all not to run your mouths, but this is an active investigation and I’ve got to watch what I say. I’ll tell you this much. It was not an accident, though it hasn’t been ruled on yet. A kayaker came upon his body floating in the lake. Poor kid was shook up so bad he had to be sedated. Cause of death is not official, the coroner will make that call, but there’s no question it was Blaine Branch; I saw the body myself. Jenny’s at the lake securing the scene; she hates doing notifications.” He took a breath that swelled his big body even bigger. “Can’t say I care for it, either. Worst part of the job.”

  Jennifer Jeffers was Denny’s partner. She’s a bit of a prickly pear and for some reason she hadn’t taken a shine to Esme or me. Neither of us had the warm fuzzies for her either, but she was good at her job.

  Denny glanced toward the archway into the living room and all eyes followed. Beth was sitting up now, though she seemed almost catatonic. Daniel and Tony half carried her to the couch. Then Daniel came out to talk to Denny.

  “Denton, you said an incident. What exactly do you mean by that? An accident or what?” he asked.

  “I’m not free to say more right now, Daniel, I’m sorry,” Denny said, slipping past him into the living room while the rest of us hovered in the hallway.

  “Beth,” Denny said, going down on one knee beside the couch, “I’m so sorry, but I need to ask you a few questions. When’s the last time you saw Blaine?”

  Beth frowned and looked to Denny as if she couldn’t take in the words. “I woke up and he was gone,” she said in wonderment.

  “So this morning is the last time you saw him?” Denny asked.

  “His car is in the shop,” she said. “He did not take his car. He’s around someplace. Alan took him somewhere. Alan told him it was finished, but Blaine won’t accept it. Wait, no, that can’t be right, Alan left already, didn’t he? What day is this, I can’t think.” She frowned up at her mother. She shook her head as if to clear it but the effort made her wince and she became even more befuddled. “So many leaves,” she said again with a heavy sigh. “I can’t do it all. I told him, I can’t do this. It wasn’t a lie, not really. Maybe of onission.” She frowned at the fractured phonics and tried again. “Of odission.” She gritted her teeth. “Omission,” she said, enunciating each syllable with labored attention. “Not dead, though. A surprise, and not like me at all. But not dead.”

  “Beth,” Daniel said, his voice firm, “do not say another word.” He turned to Denny. “She’s invoking. She’s in no shape to be talking to you until we know what this is all about.”

  Denny frowned. “Daniel, this isn’t an interrogation, it’s a notification.”

  “I don’t care what you call it,” Daniel said. “Until we know what’s what, she’s not saying another word. I’m her lawyer.”

  “Daniel, you’re a real estate lawyer,” Olivia said, her words quiet and gentle.

  “I’m a lawyer,” Daniel repeated. “And we’re done talking. Beth is going to the emergency room to get checked out. Right now.” He pulled his keys from his pocket and handed them to Tony. “Go get the car, would you?”

  “I’m coming, too,” Olivia said.

  “Mom, why don’t you stay here,” Daniel said. “I’ll call you.”

  “I’m coming, Daniel,” Olivia said in a tone that brooked no argument.

  * * *

  “Do you think Beth’s okay?” Tony asked, for perhaps the tenth time. He, Jack, Winston, Esme, and I were working to clear away the dinner table, put away food, and get the dishes washed and packed back into the boxes Daniel had used to bring them to Olivia’s.

  “I’m sure she’s fine,” Esme said, though she didn’t sound sure and I wasn’t, either. Beth definitely hadn’t been herself from the moment she came in the door at Olivia’s that evening and her reaction to the news that Blaine was dead was strangely disconnected.

  Marydale and Coco had taken Olivia to the ER in Marydale’s car so they could bring her home if need be. Marydale had promised to call the minute they knew anything. Apparently they didn’t yet, as my phone had gone stubbornly mute.

  Esme put the tablecloth into the washer and we finished tidying up the kitchen and packing up all the family history stuff to take back to our house. In the South when there’s a death in the family the food pours in. It’s what people do because it’s something they can do. The dining room would be needed for its normal function over the next few days.

  As I handed Tony a stack of scrapbooking supplies to put into a box I noticed the injured hand again. I asked him about it.

  “Second time I’ve done that, you’d think I’d learn, right?” he said. “My kickstand jammed and I got my hand slammed trying to release it. It’s nothing.”

  I saw hi
s hands were shaking. “Tony, Beth’s strong, you know,” I said, confident in the truth of that statement, at least.

  “I know, I know,” he said. “I just don’t like to see her like that. She’s always got her act together. Always. But tonight? Even before that cop came she seemed all strung out or something.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” I said—another true thing. “We should hear something soon. Try not to worry. You’re really fond of Beth, aren’t you?”

  “Fond? What do you mean by that? Like am I crushin’ on her or something weird? Nuh-uh, not like that. I owe her, is all; I owe her big-time. I was headed into zombieland—just another one of the walking dead—when she first knew me back at Morningside High. Let’s just say I was into a lot of stuff that didn’t bode well for my future health and well-being. Hadn’t been for her I’d be in jail, insane, or dead by now. She sure deserves better than—”

  Just then my phone rang and I snatched it out of my pocket. Marydale, as always, was calm and collected, but there was concern in her voice. “It wasn’t just shock. Beth has a concussion. It’s serious but not life threatening. She can’t remember what happened. All she remembers is waking up out in the yard and she barely remembers that. Apparently she must have fallen and hit her head on something when she was doing yard work. The docs are saying she may be addled for a while and probably won’t remember much about this whole day by tomorrow. They’ve run tests and done scans and they don’t think there will be any lasting damage but they’re going to keep her overnight for observation. We’re trying to convince Olivia to come home, and I think she’s about ready to give in. She’s totally exhausted. Daniel will stay here with Beth.”

  “How is Beth taking the news about Blaine now that it’s had a chance to sink in?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure it has sunk in,” Marydale said. “She just keeps saying things that make no sense and insisting he isn’t dead. I still can’t get my mind around it myself and I don’t have a concussion.”