They all looked at the book again.
“We don’t have a lot to work with here, do we?” Leonora asked finally.
“We know one thing for sure,” Deke said. “We know that things don’t add up. We’ve also got these clippings and this book. That’s more than we had before you arrived in town, Leonora.”
“But where do we go now?” she asked.
Thomas unsteepled his fingers.
Leonora and Deke both looked at him.
“What?” Leonora prompted. “Got an idea?”
“If you want to start somewhere, Deke,” Thomas said deliberately, “I guess you could check out the murder of Sebastian Eubanks.”
Leonora frowned. “Why?”
“What good would that do?” Deke demanded. “Eubanks was killed thirty years ago.”
“I’m not saying it will get us anywhere,” Thomas said. “But as Leonora just pointed out, we haven’t got a lot to work with. One of the few facts we do have is that, for some reason, the Eubanks murder apparently interested Bethany enough to cause her to make copies of the newspaper stories concerning the case and later Meredith put them into a safe-deposit box for us. That’s something. Not much, I agree, but something.”
“You’re right.” Deke flattened his palm possessively on the photocopies. “I’ll get on it right away. Doubt if there will be anything out there on the Net because the story is so old but the library has microfilm of the
Wing Cove Star
that goes back to the founding of the paper.”
There had been a distinct change in Deke since she had first met him an hour ago, Leonora thought. There was a new crispness in the way he folded his spectacles and dropped them into his pocket. His facial expression was more alert, more alive. The moody, gloomy quality was
gone. In its place was renewed determination. Deke was now a man with a mission.
She glanced at Thomas. Something in his face told her that he had mixed feelings about the transformation. She understood. Deke might very well take a turn for the worse, psychologically speaking, if their investigation went nowhere. False hope could be worse than no hope because it fed fantasies and nurtured delusions.
So be it, she thought. She was on Deke’s side in this thing. She had come here to Wing Cove to find answers and the only way to get them was to follow every possible lead even if it led to a dead end.
“I told you that we needed a new point of reference if we were to have any chance of finding something that the investigator missed last year,” Deke said to Thomas. “This book and the clippings may give it to us.”
Leonora sat forward. “You hired a private investigator to look into Bethany’s death?”
“Sure,” Deke said. “But he got nowhere. All he came back with were the same rumors about drugs that Stovall gave us. I fired him after a month.”
Wrench’s bent ear twitched. He lifted his nose and aimed it at the front door. A second later, someone knocked forcefully, interrupting Leonora before she could ask any more questions.
“That will be Cassie.” Deke shut the catalog of looking glasses and got to his feet with unexpected alacrity. “My yoga instructor. I’ll let her in. Open those curtains, will you, Thomas? She’s always complaining about how dark it is in here.”
“No problem.” Thomas rose from the big chair and yanked the curtains away from the nearest window with unmistakable zeal. “Can’t say that I’m real fond of the décor, myself,” he added in a low voice meant only for Leonora’s ears.
Deke raked his fingers through his unkempt hair and beard and opened the front door.
Leonora turned and saw an amazon with short, curly red hair and a figure that could have been used as a model for the Statue of Liberty. Except that Lady Liberty was not dressed in sweats.
“Cassie, this is Leonora Hutton,” Deke said. “She’s a friend of Thomas’s. Leonora, Cassie Murray.”
“How do you do?” Leonora said.
“A pleasure.” Cassie crossed the room with long, ground-swallowing strides. Her right hand was extended.
Leonora scrambled up out of her chair and braced herself.
Wrench hauled himself to his feet and wagged his tail. Cassie patted him on the head and then grasped Leonora’s hand and pumped it enthusiastically a few times.
“Nice to see a new face around here.” Cassie gave Leonora a brilliant smile. “I’ve been telling Deke for months that he needs to widen his circle of acquaintances and make some new friends. He spends his days in this cave, looking into the totally artificial light of a computer screen, and then wonders why his energy lines are obstructed.”
Cassie had to be at least six feet tall, Leonora mused. She towered a good two inches over Deke and she wasn’t wearing heels. There didn’t appear to be anything wrong with her energy lines. She practically vibrated with vitality.
“Hello, Cassie.” Thomas opened another set of curtains. “How’s it going?”
“Fine, just fine. Here, let me give you a hand with those.” Cassie went to the nearest window and snapped open the heavy drapes. “Can’t do good yoga without some natural light. What do you think of Deke’s beard, Leonora? I’ve been trying to convince him to shave.”
Leonora glanced quickly at Deke. She could have sworn that he was blushing. But there was something else going on. He watched Cassie as if she were a gift he dared not open.
“Each to his own,” Leonora said gently. She didn’t think the beard did much for Deke, but she had no wish to add to his obvious embarrassment.
Cassie snapped the last set of drapes apart and then stood back to survey the results.
“Much better,” she announced. “In yoga one must reach for the sun, not the darkness.”
“It’s foggy outside, Cassie,” Deke said. “You can’t see the sun.”
“Doesn’t matter. Natural light is the key. Fog is natural.”
“Whatever you say.” Deke shrugged. “You’re the expert.”
Thomas touched Leonora’s arm, silently urging her toward the door.
“We were just about to leave,” he said. He helped Leonora into her coat. “Right, Leonora?”
“Yes.” Leonora hastily seized her satchel. “We’ll let you two get on with your yoga lesson.”
Wrench was already at the door. Thomas attached his leash. The three of them went outside into the fog-shrouded morning.
Thomas pulled the collar of his jacket up around his ears. He said nothing as they walked down the road toward the footpath.
It was cold. Leonora slipped on her gloves and tugged the hood of her coat up over her head.
“Think he’s sleeping with Cassie?” Thomas asked abruptly.
The question startled her out of thoughts of old murder and old mirrors.
“Are you talking about your brother?” she asked.
“Yeah. Deke. Think he and Cassie are having an affair?”
She felt herself turn red. “Why on earth are you asking me? He’s your brother, not mine. You know him better than I do.”
“I’m worried. Deke has changed a lot in the past year. He’s been a different man since Bethany died. Depressed. Morbid. Spending too much time on the Net.”
“You think maybe an affair with his yoga instructor would help cheer him up, is that it?”
“Couldn’t hurt.” He warmed to his theme. “You saw Cassie. I think she’d be a good antidote for his obsession with Bethany’s death and all those damned conspiracy theories he’s been weaving for the past few months.”
Leonora halted on the path and rounded on him. “Why do men always think that getting laid will fix everything?”
Thomas stopped. “I didn’t say that getting laid would fix everything,” he muttered. “I just thought it might, you know, lift his spirits. Take him out of himself for a while. He seems to like Cassie. At least, that’s what it looks like to me. Those yoga lessons are the one thing he actually looks forward to every week. I was amazed when he signed up for a whole year’s worth in advance.”
“So in your considered opinion Deke should jump into bed with Cassie? You see sex as a form of therapy for his depression?”
Thomas raised one broad shoulder. “Worth a shot.”
Outrage swept through her. “I don’t know how Cassie feels about your theory but, speaking personally, I can tell you that I certainly would not hop into bed with a man who was just using me to work through some psychological issues.”
Thomas blinked, obviously surprised by her anger. “Take it easy, I’m just saying that I think Cassie would be good for Deke.”
“If you were in your brother’s shoes would you want to go to bed with your yoga instructor merely to see if you could cheer yourself up for a while?”
He thought about that. “Depends on the yoga instructor.”
“Good grief.”
“It was just a thought.”
“Really? How much
thinking
have you actually done about this bright idea of yours? Have you thought about Cassie, for instance? Have you considered her feelings? Maybe she wouldn’t care to be used as a form of therapy any more than I would.”
“I said forget it.” He turned and started walking again. “I just wanted to see if you thought they might be having an affair. But it’s obvious you’re going to twist everything I say, so there’s no point trying to talk rationally about it.”
Leonora took a deep breath and told herself to get a grip. Thomas was right. She was definitely going over the top here. There was no reason to take this personally. They were discussing Deke and Cassie. Two people she barely knew.
It wasn’t as if Thomas had suggested that she jump into bed with
him
for therapeutic purposes.
She hurried to catch up with him. “Look, I know you’re concerned about Deke. I’m no expert, but I really don’t think sex is going to fix what’s wrong with your brother.”
“I gotta tell you, he’s scaring me.”
Understanding dawned. “That’s why you’re going along with this plan to investigate Bethany’s death, isn’t it? You see it as a distraction for him.”
“I’m not sure I’m doing him any favors. What if we don’t come up with answers? He might sink even deeper into his depression.”
She contemplated the fog for a while, thinking.
“Closure,” she said eventually.
“What?”
“I think that’s what this is all about for Deke. Not just answers, but some kind of closure.”
Thomas halted on the path once more and searched her face. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m no shrink but it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that part of the reason Deke is obsessing on Bethany’s death is because his grief is complicated by some other emotion.”
“You think he feels guilty because he wasn’t able to protect her?” Thomas shoved one hand into his pocket. “I thought about that. Any man would have problems dealing with the fact that he wasn’t able to keep his woman safe. I’ve tried to talk to Deke about it. There was nothing he could have done. There was nothing anyone could have done.”
“Maybe there’s more to it. No marriage is perfect, and sudden death doesn’t give anyone a chance to say good-bye or resolve outstanding issues. Who knows what was going on in Deke’s and Bethany’s relationship in the weeks and months before her death? Maybe they were having problems. Maybe they had argued that morning and Deke feels guilty because he never got a chance to say he was sorry.”
“You think maybe some of those unresolved issues are haunting him?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I’m just saying that he probably needs closure and he has convinced himself that finding Bethany’s killer will give it to him.” She hesitated. “Who knows? Maybe I’m here for the same reason. Closure. I never got to say good-bye to Meredith, either.”
“This is damn complicated, isn’t it?”
“Life is complicated and sex does not make it less complicated. If anything, it only muddles things.”
Thomas said nothing.
She glanced at him. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
“Well, I’ve got to tell you that sex never seemed all that complicated to me.”
“Which only goes to show.”
He frowned. “What does it show?”
“That men and women view sex from entirely different perspectives.”
“Damn. How the hell did we end up talking about sex?”
“You started it,” she said. “You asked my opinion and I gave it to you. I don’t think Deke can allow himself to be happy again as long as he’s obsessing on the past. So in answer to your question, no, I don’t think he is sleeping with Cassie Murray, and even if he is, I doubt that it would bring him peace or solve his problems.”
“Then we need to get some answers,” Thomas said.
“Please make yourself
at home while you’re working here at Mirror House, Leonora.” Roberta Brinks looked up from pouring coffee. “My staff and I will be very busy for the next several weeks, what with the annual alumni weekend coming up. I’m afraid there will be a lot of coming and going around here.”
“Believe me, I understand the importance of alumni weekends,” Leonora said in honest, heartfelt tones.
“A great nuisance.” Roberta chuckled. “But where would we all be without our generous alumni, hmm? In any event, I think you’ll find that you’ll be quite undisturbed upstairs on the second floor. No one uses that part of the mansion very much. And the third floor is completely closed off. It’s only used for storage these days.”
“I appreciate the tour of the house,” Leonora said. “It’s quite amazing, really.”
She dropped her heavy satchel on the floor, sat down in
one of two chairs that were positioned in front of the desk and watched Roberta pour coffee.
Roberta had introduced herself as the executive director of Mirror House. She was a handsome, robust woman of some sixty years who carried herself with an air of authority. Her hair, cut in a classic, patrician bob, had evidently once been very dark. It had turned a striking shade of silver. She wore a white silk blouse with a paisley scarf, a navy-blue skirt and a pair of pumps that matched the skirt.
“I must admit I’m curious about the architectural style of Mirror House,” Leonora said. “I can’t quite identify it.”
Roberta made a face. “Technically speaking, I believe that it is considered a cross between Victorian and Gothic. It has been declared quite hideous by several self-respecting architects. But Nathanial Eubanks was very rich and very eccentric. Rich eccentrics who endow private colleges and thereby make it possible for generations of lucky professors to obtain tenure are allowed to build bizarre mansions.”