Shelley got up and poured the coffee. "I don't know. Maybe she'd decided that even the money didn't make it worth living with him, but he was even uglier about it than she anticipated."
“How do you mean?" Jane said, blowing on her drink.
“Oh, maybe he'd seen it coming and put everything they owned into a corporation in his name."
“Can you do that?"
“I think if you're a sharp, stingy attorney who thinks his wife is about to make off with your money, there are a lot of things you can do. Remember that doctor who used to live on the other side of Suzie's house? He divorced his wife and went right out, bought a huge house with a pool, drove his fancy cars, lived like a king with his bimbo girlfriend, and she and the kids had to go on welfare.”
Jane nodded. "Maybe Stonecipher threatened to dump Tony, too. If he knew about their relationship — if there is a relationship."
“Maybe," Shelley allowed. "But wouldn't a sharp young attorney be able to make it on his own?"
“If he is sharp. He may be a lousy attorney — with great legs and to-die-for eyes."
“Then why would Stonecipher take him on?"
“To have someone to do the boring, routine stuff and attract a lot of women clients?" Jane suggested. "But let's assume he was bright. Why couldn't he be the murderer?"
“In cahoots with Rhonda?"
“Let's say not," Jane said. "Suppose Rhonda flings herself at him, says she's divorcing her husband and wants him instead? If he has any sense, he knows he's about to acquire a very expensive woman and will probably end up out of a job besides. Assuming he's interested in acquiring her, what better way to handle it than to get Robert out of the way entirely? He'd get the woman, the business, all the money.”
Shelley got up and topped off her coffee. "But we're back to planning versus passion again. This scenario for Tony presumes cold-blooded premeditation, and shoving a rack of hams onto someone in a crowded deli is stupid and dangerous. It seems like a real fluke that anybody got away with it.”
Jane sighed. "That's the real problem, isn't it? Why would anybody take a chance like that? It really had to be a spur-of-the-moment thing to do. It's too dumb to be anything else. Or we're too dumb to see the truth."
“Stick your turkey in the oven and take your nap," Shelley said as she got up and rinsed out her coffee cup. "Maybe your subconscious will work out the answer."
“You've got a lot more faith in my subconscious than I do."
“I have no faith whatsoever in your subconscious, but if you try to serve your mother-in-law an undercooked turkey breast, I'll never hear the end of it.”
The turkey was a great success. So was the dressing, the mashed potatoes, the gravy, and the corn casserole. In fact, Thelma Jeffry couldn't find anything to complain about except that cranberry sauce gave her a rash. "Then don't eat any, Grandma," Todd suggested sensibly.
Jane's honorary uncle Jim, a former army officer and lifelong friend of her parents, was there, too, standing in for them. And he was as proud of Mike as a real grandfather. Jane's brother-in-law Ted was there as well, doing his best to be a substitute dad. Ted's wife, Dixie Lee, presented Mike with an envelope containing a surprisingly generous check, and Jane's sister Marty, with her instinctive bad timing, called just as they started eating to wish Mike a great graduation.
“It's too bad your parents couldn't make it here for the big day," Thelma said as they were finishing up what everyone agreed was the best cherry cobbler Jane had ever made.
Mike, recognizing this as the sly criticism it was meant to be, fluffed up like an offended rooster. "Grumps is halfway around the world and they're hosting a diplomatic meeting that's been planned for two years."
“Oh, I didn't mean to imply—”
Jane had to start clearing the table to hide her smile.
“Gotta go, Mom. Everybody," Mike said.
“Mike! You're not wearing Bermuda shorts to graduate, are you?" Jane exclaimed.
“It doesn't make any difference. We're all wearing those silly long black dresses anyway, and the party after graduation is casual.”
When Mike had gone, twirling his cap and carrying the hated gown as if it were a lab experiment gone wrong, Thelma said to Katie, "When I graduated from high school, we wore long white gowns and carried roses. It was girls' school—”
While Thelma told her story, which Jane feared would make Katie think going to an exclusive private school might be fun, Jane and Uncle Jim finished clearing the table.
“Sorry your folks aren't here, honey?" he said as he rinsed the dishes and handed them to her to put in the dishwasher.
“Not at all. We've got you," she said, giving him a peck on the cheek.
“You've raised a good boy, Janey."
“I've had a lot of help. And if you say one more nice thing, I'll burst into tears and have to be led, sobbing uncontrollably, to the graduation. I'm having a real sappy week.”
9
The graduation was marvelous. It had all the sentimentality such occasions deserved. The valedictorian gave a talk that relied much too heavily on a thesaurus and was virtually incomprehensible, but had the virtue of relative brevity. The school orchestra, even without the seniors playing, did a more than credible "Pomp and Circumstance." A local minister gave a short inspirational talk that managed to suggest prayer without actually indulging in it. The teacher who read the graduates' names had done her job well, and as far as Jane could tell, didn't mispronounce a single one. She even breezed through the exchange students easily.
The graduates all looked beautiful, even the oily-haired, pimpled ones. It was that kind of event.
Todd was bored senseless; Katie was enthralled; Thelma watched like a hawk for glitches and found precious little to criticize. Mel, who met them at the stadium at the last moment, merely looked glad to sit down. Jane's sister-in-law Dixie Lee, who had no children, but had recently suffered a second miscarriage, cried more than Jane. And Ted, normally an extremely quiet, reserved man, astonished them all, including himself probably, by yelping approval when Mike's name was called out.
The system for keeping all the graduates sober and safe meant they were all funneled directly from the ceremony into the school building. Thelma was indignant until Jane explained that families could go into the school to congratulate their own — if they thought they could find them in the melee. Ted and Dixie Lee offered to wait in the car for her, but were persuaded instead to take Todd and Katie home. Jane's Uncle Jim volunteered to accompany Thelma on her quest and drive her home. Considering that he could hardly stand to be in the same room with her, it was a credit to his devotion to Jane's family and his gentlemanly instincts — or perhaps to his long military training in coping with the enemy and a longing to brush up his skills — that he made this offer.
As they headed toward the building, someone put a hand on Jane's arm. She turned, and it took her a moment to place the woman speaking to her. It was Emma Weyrich, the aerobics instructor who had also been Robert Stonecipher's paralegal.
“Emma, what are you doing here?" Jane asked. "Do you have a child graduating?”
This was the wrong thing to say. Emma was too young for that and took offense. "Of course not. My sister's daughter graduated tonight. My older sister."
“Sorry. Of course. I was just surprised to see you. I'm sorry about your boss.”
Emma's normally pretty features hardened. "Yeah, well. It was a surprise.”
What an odd reaction, Jane thought. Not exactly remorseful.
“Listen, Jane, we need to talk."
“Oh? I can't now."
“I didn't mean here and now. How about tomorrow?"