The Ice Storm Murders Page 4

  When they were alone, Eloise turned to Anne.

  "What has gone on here? There seems to be some secret."

  "Has no one told you about Hamish's mother?"

  "No."

  "She became deranged early on in her pregnancy and killed David's father and his fiancee. She's in prison now. She was married to Brad Barrington."

  "Murders? Here?"

  Eloise's face paled. Anne sugared her drink and handed it to her.

  "I think you should understand who these people are."

  "If Brad is Hamish's father, why does he not live with him?"

  "Because Cooper Thwaite was his father and David's father."

  "And Olivia?"

  "Also Cooper's. I don't know who her mother is."

  "So tangled. But I thought perhaps they were David's children, he loves them so."

  "Yes, he does. He's their brother."

  Raised voices from the other room brought them to the door of the kitchen.

  The children sat on the floor of the living room, playing with giant lego and minute lego people. Above them, a tide of angry voices crashed and ebbed.

  "What makes you think I want messy children all over the living room floor when our guests arrive?"

  "Vanessa—"

  "Don't Vanessa me. Look at them. Egg all over their faces and jam on their hands. I want them upstairs where they belong."

  Olivia inspected her hands and Hamish's face. "We don't have egg and jam—"

  "Don't contradict me, Olivia. Where is that little witch who is supposed to be looking after them? Was she too busy mooning after you to wipe their grubby hands."

  "What are you talking about—mooning."

  "Don't play games with me, David. The guests will be arriving and—"

  Olivia pulled Hamish after her and ran up the stairs. Eloise left Anne's side and stepped back into the kitchen.

  "No," said David.

  "What do you mean, no?"

  "Have you looked outside or further than your nose. No one is coming. Not the guests, not the minister, not the musicians. Not today."

  Vanessa shrieked and disappeared into the dining room. David hesitated but returned to the kitchen. The door swung closed behind him, and he slumped into a kitchen chair.

  The rain laid siege to the windows, covering them with a frozen curtain. The dogs nuzzled him, one to a side. Max, worried, rested his shaggy head on David's knee and watched his face from below his bushy eyebrows. David ran his hand behind the dog's ears and scratched.

  "So that's it. No wedding. No family."

  "I wouldn't say that, David. You still have the children and Eloise to help you,” said Anne.

  Eloise said, "I have to go to the children."

  She ran up the back stairs.

  "What did she mean Eloise mooned after me?"

  "You must pay better attention after this."

  David pushed back through the door into the living room just before Thomas clattered down the stairs to the kitchen.

  Upstairs, Olivia listened at the nursery door. When no one followed them up the stairs, she scampered down the hall to Vanessa's room. Inside, she lifted the lid on the beautiful box on the table with the mirror behind it. Once before she had opened the box but Vanessa caught her, and said she would spank her if she found her there again. Olivia didn't know what spank meant, but it sounded bad. But there were necklaces and rings in the box, all glittering and beautiful.

  She explored the box, trying on a sparkling ring with bright red stones and plain glass ones. At least they looked like glass to her. They were pretty but not like the red and green and blue ones. She pulled up the top tray. Papers, just papers. Why would Vanessa keep papers in the box with her jewellery? If only she could read.

  Someone was coming. Footsteps stopped outside the door but went on. Now she was scared. What if Vanessa found her? The spanking thing sounded scary. She couldn't put the tray back in over the papers. She stuffed one of them into her pocket and tried again. She slammed the top and raced from the room back to the playroom.

  "Olivia, where have you been?"

  "I went to the bathroom."

  "Were you in Vanessa's room again?"

  "No."

  Olivia was scared again. She told Eloise a lie. What if they sent her away? Vanessa wanted to send her away. What if Eloise wanted to send her away too? When she peered up at Eloise, she saw tears on her face. "I'm sorry. Don't cry."

  Eloise sat down on the playroom rug beside Olivia and hugged her. "Not your fault, ma chère."

  A knock at the playroom door brought Eloise to her feet, wiping her face with her hands. Brad and Andrea came in. "We'll play with the children while you have breakfast, Eloise."

  Olivia's face drooped. Why did they have to come?

  "Thank you," said Eloise and left.

  "What would my darling boy like to play?" said Andrea, picking the toddler up and covering his face with kisses.

  "He wants to play Lego," said Olivia.

  "Don't talk for Hamish," said Brad.

  Olivia wandered over to the play table and reached for her crayons. Behind her, the grown-ups talked to Hamish and to each other.

  "He's such a lovely boy, isn't he, Brad?"

  "Yes, Mom. Enjoy him while you can."

  Andrea clutched Hamish to her, and he squealed. Why was she holding him so hard, Olivia thought. He didn't like it.

  "There, there, Hamish. Grandma's sorry."

  "What do you mean?"

  "After they're married, he'll cut off your access, and you won't see Hamish again."

  "Vanessa doesn't like them."

  "Vanessa likes David's money."

  What was access? What were they going to cut? Olivia put her head down on the desk and cried.

  "Now you've upset Olivia. You'd better go," Andrea said.

  Olivia kept on crying. Maybe she would leave too.

  Chapter Four

  Thomas passed Eloise on the stairs.

  "What's going on here?" said Thomas when he came into the kitchen. "Eloise looked as though she was about to cry."

  "Sit down, and I'll tell you."

  Before she described the scene, Thomas walked to the doors, made sure no one was listening and sat again.

  Cautious, Anne thought. He'd slipped into what she called, to herself, his spy mode. Calm, pragmatic, unemotional.

  "What happened afterward?"

  "David came in here and talked about how much he wanted a family and how much he loved the children. He thinks it's over with Vanessa."

  "After one fight?"

  "Fundamental issue, though."

  He reached for her hand and rubbed it between both of his. Her hand must be cold, she thought.

  "What about us? Is the problem between us fundamental too?"

  "The problem with me is fundamental. I—"

  Vanessa swung open the kitchen door from the dining room, took one look and yelled for David.

  "What is it this time?" he said when he came through the door from the living room.

  "These damn dogs are in the kitchen. Put the filthy beasts outside."

  "Come," David called to the dogs from the kitchen door.

  The poodle danced over to David, who rubbed her neck and whispered to her. Max shook his shaggy head and ambled towards the door to the living room.

  "I said put them outside."

  "My house, my dogs, my rules," said David.

  He opened the door, and the dogs ran through into the living room.

  Vanessa followed.

  "No privacy in this kitchen," Thomas said. "We'd better follow and make sure no one is injured."

  The others—the Barringtons, Mike, and the Bakers, but not the Argyles—huddled at one end of the long room far from Vanessa who railed at David and then struck a pose with one arm on the mantle of the fireplace. The mantle was a shade too tall for her, Anne thought, making her ever so slightly awkward. Not perfect.

  She was lovely, though, even with her ears
exposed. Vanessa wore her blond hair pulled back in a sleek chignon, diamonds flashing from the lobes of her long ears that stood a little too far away from her head. If they were to have children of their own, ears would be a problem. It was odd, she thought, that Vanessa and David's were so similar. But perhaps, with the way things were going, it wouldn't be an issue.

  The dogs bounded over to Trevor, who rubbed an ear on each and received kisses on his nose when he put his face close to theirs.

  "Ugh. How can you, Trevor?" said Vanessa.

  "I like dogs and dogs like me," he said.

  Beth and Kevin came in and again sat a little apart from the group. Anne caught a frown on Andrea's face, directed towards Beth, Anne thought. What was that about?

  The phone rang.

  For a moment, no one moved. David picked up the phone, scowled and said, "Brad, the call's for you. The prison.”

  "Why—"

  "No idea."

  Brad walked the phone into the dining room. The guests milled about, straining to hear his conversation while pretending to chat about the weather.

  Vanessa and David whispered in a corner. The scarlet of her face, still present from her anger, deepened.

  Anne overheard part of the conversation.

  "I will not, and if that's how you feel, we're done," David said.

  Vanessa stalked to the window and pretended to look out at the storm.

  A moment later, a white-faced Brad stumbled back into the room and collapsed in a chair beside his mother.

  "What is it?"

  "Karen's dead."

  "How?" someone asked.

  "Opioids."

  Someone gasped, but when Anne looked around, she saw only concern on the faces of the others. Brad sobbed into his mother's shoulder. Her eyes glistened, and she patted his back. On her other side, Trevor hid his face in his hands. His shoulders heaved. Carmel stood beside him, her emaciated hand stroking his hair. Beth walked over to her brother and sat on his other side and put one hand on his arm. He shrugged her off, but she stayed beside him.

  Andrea glared at Anne.

  "You, it's all your fault."

  "What—"

  "You sent her there. You had to poke around, stirring things up. She would be at home with Hamish except for you."

  She lunged across the room towards Anne, stumbled, and fell, but David saved her from hitting the floor. She flailed at his chest.

  "Get away from me."

  "Andrea.” David said.

  "You're the same. Why did you have your stupid party?"

  Andrea screamed and ranted until Brad and Beth dragged her up to her room. Kevin hunkered down in a club chair, his face impassive.

  Anne collapsed into a chair, hugging her arms to her chest. Thomas stood beside her, his hand resting on her shoulder. "A drink?” Thomas said. "Cognac?"

  "A little."

  What a nightmare, Anne thought. Trapped with a madwoman, a grieving family, and battling bride and groom.

  "I thought she was a murderer. Why all the hysteria?" Vanessa said, not too quietly, to David.

  "She was his wife before she was a murderer."

  "That doesn't explain the mother-in-law or was that just alcohol? Don't look at me as if I'm the crazy one. You're all nuts."

  She twisted away from David and ran up the stairs.

  The others drifted away, leaving only David, Thomas and Anne in the darkening room. The storm, as though empowered by the rage in the house, shook the windows and pelted them with ice.

  "I'm sorry he has to stay here," David said.

  "I'm sure all of them would prefer to be elsewhere," said Thomas.

  "He said an overdose of opioid but he didn't say if it was suicide or accident or murder."

  "Or how she wasn't found it time," said Anne.

  "In time?" David said.

  "For Narcan, the antidote."

  "Do you still carry Narcan with you?" Thomas asked.

  "Always. With this opioid crisis you never know when you might be the only one who can help. I wondered how, in a facility where the prisoners are supposed to be watched, this happened."

  "Went to sleep and didn't wake up, I imagine."

  Eloise came down the stairs and called to David. "Would you say goodnight to the children? The storm is making them anxious."

  "In a moment."

  "You have a lovely family," Anne said.

  "All I ever wanted was a family and now I almost have one. I'd better go to them."

  "I't's a shame she doesn't share his desire," Anne said after David walked up the stairs.

  "Should we talk about us, dear heart."

  He enveloped her in his arms.

  "We know about us. I have to decide about what I should do and my thoughts aren't clear."

  "When you're ready—"

  "Let's go up."

  Eloise sat on an armchair near the play table. Olivia worked on drawing with her favourite purple crayon and Hamish built towers with his over-sized Lego. David came in after knocking on the frame of the open door. Hamish ran to him and put up his arms. David scooped him up.

  "Dada."

  "Hi, little guy. What are you building?"

  "Big."

  Hamish followed his word with a string of babble. David put him down, Olivia took his hand, and pulled him to the table to see her latest creation. "Uncle David, I'm drawing our house."

  "Let's see."

  "I see you drew the living room and all the people."

  "Yes. Then I'll draw some more rooms."

  Eloise searched David's face. So much love, she thought. Why did he bring that awful woman into their lives? What if she asked if she was staying after the wedding? She needed to know. "David, could I ask you a question?"

  "Of course. Something wrong?"

  "Perhaps. I wondered if I would have a job after you were married. Perhaps Vanessa would like to choose her own nanny for the children."

  David's eyebrows shot up. "They aren't Vanessa's children."

  "But—"

  His face reddened and his mouth became a thin line and a deep furrow appeared between his eyes. Was he angry with her?

  "You work for me. Vanessa has no say and will have no say in my staffing decisions, especially as regards the children."

  "That might be uncomfortable. I heard her tell that man, Mike, that she wanted all of us to go—me, the dogs, the children."

  "You misunderstood."

  "No, I didn't but I'm sure she will deny it. That is why it will not be comfortable for me here."

  She moved away from him and gazed out across the field. The ice didn't coat the nursery windows but across the field, birch trees bowed to the ground under their burden and behind them stood two venerable pines, their tops scarred where the weight had severed the main trunk. Wind shook icicles from the trees and smashed them on the frozen snow below.

  "Please don't do anything rash. This weekend is strange for all of us and now with the tragedy—"

  "What tragedy?"

  "Brad's ex-wife, Trevor's sister died in prison. They telephoned this morning."

  "Hamish's maman?"

  "Yes."

  "Il pauvre garçon."

  "Will you stay after the storm?"

  "For a short time."

  "Thank you."

  For a moment Eloise thought he was going to hug her but he stepped back, said goodbye to the children, and left.

  How could she leave him? What would she do without him and without the children? That woman was so horrible.

  "Don't cry, Eloise. Uncle David won't let anything bad happen."

  Olivia's little hand patted her back.

  "I hope not, chèrie. I hope not."

  Chapter Five

  Trevor and Carmel followed Brad, his sister, and Andrea upstairs but Brad slammed shut the door to Andrea's room, and they continued down the hall. Light filled their small room, tucked away around a corner of the hallway, despite the ice that coated the windowpanes. One door led to a bath
room, another to a closet. Carmel said she liked the room; liked the ice-blue colour that predominated. Too cold for him.

  Carmel drooped in one chair while Trevor sat in the other, one long-fingered hand covering his eyes.

  "Perhaps she would rather die than spend twenty-five years in prison?"

  "Don't say that. The lawyers appealed the length of the sentence. Someone killed her."

  "Did Brad say she was murdered?"

  "No. But Karen didn't do drugs."

  "Perhaps she started."

  Carmel's voice trailed off to a whisper. What was he going to do? She got worse every day. Even in the few hours since they arrived, she seemed to dwindle.

  "David and Vanessa aren't getting along," he said.

  "I hadn't noticed."

  "The wedding might be off."

  She raised a languid hand and let it fall into her lap where it lay, white and still. So pale. The doctor said her iron was low and gave her pills, but she wouldn't take them.

  "What does it matter?" she said.

  "If he's not married, David will find it difficult to convince the court he should keep Hamish from his family, from us."

  "From us?"

  A frown appeared between her eyes and she cocked her head at him. "From us?"

  "I think we should petition the court. I'm his family, too."

  "They won't give him to us because of me."

  Silent tears dribbled over her cheeks and dropped, unheeded on her silk shirt.

  "If you thought we could adopt Hamish, you would get better, eat again."

  "They'll likely make up. People do."

  "Maybe not, and if he has no wife—"

  "I'll try to eat."

  "That's my girl."

  But she was right. David might make up with her and ruin any chance they had of adopting Hamish. What was he going to do?

  Back around the corner and down the hall, in Andrea's room, Brad slumped in a pale green wicker chair. Beth, her back against the wall, stood close to the door. Andrea, her face suffused with anger, lurched up and down the room and stumbled over a rug. Sharp cracks like rifle shots echoed from the forest beyond. The gale howled and rattled the windows.

  "Sit down, Mom, before you fall and break a hip."