“No,” Dru said bluntly. “I was nicer than I am now when I was her age and still innocent. Maybe she would have changed too.”
“Not Annamay, no. Never.”
“Everyone has to grow up.”
She didn’t realize until she heard the words what a terrible mistake she’d made because Annamay would never grow up.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Hyatt. I’m awfully sorry.”
But it was too late. The old man was fleeing, half running, half stumbling, along the flagstone path to the house, his hands pressed against his chest as if to stem the flow of blood.
“Holy hell,” Dru said, and dumped the rest of the chocolate cake into the lily pond.
Only the three of them were left in the sunny birch-paneled family room, Kay and Howard and Ben. Chizzy had gone back upstairs as soon as she’d made the coffee and sliced the cake. She felt an ominous sadness in the air, not just a sadness for the past but for the future, as though an important decision were about to be announced. Nothing had been said to her about such a decision so she was powerless to alter it no matter how deeply it would affect her. Under normal circumstances she would have eavesdropped and, hearing a word here and a word there, put them together into a sentence. But there was no such thing as normal anymore and there never would be again, and she talked brusquely to herself in the bathroom mirror: “Don’t go dreaming. If there’s ever any normal again it will be a new one and you’ll have to get used to it, like it or not.”
Ben shared none of Chizzy’s premonitions. Now that the funeral was over he expected Kay and Howard to grow closer to each other again. Howard would continue to manage the investment firm, Kay would resume her job as a volunteer driver with the Red Cross, and he, Ben, could go back to his own work.
His current project was designing a pavilion for a Hollywood actor who knew exactly what he wanted, a house made entirely of windows and mirrors, no expenses spared and to hell with earthquakes. The actor’s wife wanted a blue tile roof and an indoor-outdoor swimming pool.
Ben hated the assignment. People who claimed to know exactly what they wanted often didn’t like the results and the money-is-no-object crowd had a tendency to ignore their bills, assuming perhaps that money was also no object to the plasterers and cement finishers and plumbers and carpenters.
But his real assignment, first and foremost, was to bring Kay and Howard together.
“I think you two should take a trip in the new car. Drive up the coast route to Big Sur and San Francisco and Point Reyes. Keep on driving. Chizzy will take care of things here and I’ll drop in on Mr. Hyatt every day and take him wherever he wants to go.”
Kay didn’t even look at him. She was watching Howard who was pouring himself some bourbon. “What do you think of that, Howard?”
“Of what?”
“Benjamin has planned a trip for us to Big Sur and other points north. Does that appeal to you?”
“I don’t believe so.”
“You could always talk to the car if you got bored with my company. Or we could take turns talking to the car. Would you like that?”
“No.”
Kay turned to Ben. “You see? Howard and I have become very direct with each other. No unnecessary amenities, just the straight stuff, yes and no.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Ben said. “Stop it right now.”
“I’ll stop talking like that if you’ll stop planning our future for us,” Kay said. “Howard and I have something to tell you and you’re only making it more difficult. I know you’re fond of us, Ben, and you want us to stay together and live happily ever after and all that. But it’s impossible.”
“Only because you’re not trying hard enough.”
“Perhaps we don’t want to try.”
“But you’ve got to. Look at it mathematically. Neither of you alone is half of what you are together. And what’s going to happen to Chizzy and the old man and the dogs and the koi?”
“The koi,” Kay said. “The koi, for God’s sake.”
“And the house? My house? I lived and breathed this house. I love every inch of it.”
“Build one of your own. That new girl who’s living with you, what’s her name?”
“Quinn.”
“Miss or Mrs.?”
“I never asked her.”
“My goodness, we are getting sophisticated, aren’t we?”
“Quinn happens to be my assistant,” Ben said stiffly.
“Really? Well, I’m sure she assists you in one way or another. Anyway, I’ve heard she’s a beauty. Why don’t you marry her, design a house of your own?”
“I don’t want to get married. And I can’t afford to live on a scale like this.”
“It’s a little unfair for you to insist we stay married when you won’t even get married in the first place. Don’t you think so, Ben?”
“Surely there’s no question of a real divorce.”
Howard finished his drink. “There’ll be no drastic change at all for the moment. I’ll move into the guesthouse so my comings and goings and telephone calls won’t interfere with Kay’s life. I expect to be pretty much absorbed in my new job.”
“Your new job? What are you trying to tell me? What about the investment firm?”
“It can get along without me for a while. I have more important things to do… Are you sure you wouldn’t like a drink, Ben?”
“What important things?”
“Michael Dunlop and I are going to work together.”
Ben looked incredulous. “You’re taking up some kind of religious activity?”
“It’s a religion to me by this time though it can’t be called a religious activity.”
“What can it be called then?”
“Michael and I are going to find the person responsible for Annamay’s death.”
Ben went over and opened the door that led into the main patio. He drew in a deep breath of air and held it. He felt almost faint and wished he had some of Mrs. Cunningham’s smelling salts with their scent of lavender and shock of ammonia. He said finally, “So you’re into that again.”
“He was never out,” Kay said. “Never for one single second. People like you and Dad and Vicki have been blaming me for the split in our marriage. I went along with that. It seemed easier to accept the blame than to put it on someone already overloaded with guilt… He never stopped thinking about it, right from that very first night when Annamay failed to come home. Even when we lay beside each other in bed his obsession was like a tangible wall between us. When he asked me for love he meant sex, and I’m not a hooker. Would you agree with that, Howard?”
Her husband gave her a bleak little smile. “Oh yes. It’s pretty obvious you’re not a hooker.”
“So you see, Ben,” Kay went on, “this isn’t a sudden decision. It was made months ago and nothing you can say will change it. Now if you don’t mind I’m going up to my room. I need to be alone for a while.”
The two men watched her leave, interested less in her exit than in avoiding each other’s eyes.
“Okay, I get the picture,” Ben said. “But why Michael Dunlop?”
“Michael and I are old friends.”
“You and I are also old friends. Why didn’t you pick me?”
Howard had been dreading the question and trying to prepare answers to it. But when he spoke them aloud they sounded as if he were reading from a cue card. “Your work won’t go on without you like mine and your hours aren’t flexible like Michael’s. You have to earn a living.”
“That’s not the real reason, is it?”
“Partly.”
“Is it because you think I’m too young, you don’t respect me?”
“You’re an artist, Ben. You’re temperamental and emotional and… well, you’re just not cut out for the kind of job this is going to be. You’re not tough enough.”