Fourteen

Elaine Langley was sitting on the cold tile floor of the girls' restroom and crying hard. When the door opened, she wanted to scream at whoever it was to get out, but tears were choking her throat too much to speak.

When she saw it was that girl who looked like a teacher, she cried harder. What was her name? Sherry? No, Cheryl. No one knew much about her—or wanted to.

Elaine tried to stifle her tears, but they kept coming.

Cheryl was using a wet paper towel to try to get a stain out of her blouse, but it wasn't working. "Silk is not a good fabric for high school," she said. "Certainly not something to wear around Gena Upton."

At the name, Elaine let out a howl and her tears increased to a veritable flood.

She was choking, nearly suffocating on them.

"Oh, hell," Cheryl muttered, then turned to face Elaine. "What's that bitch done to you?"

Elaine covered her face with her hands and shook her head. She could never, ever, never tell anyone what she—not Gena—had done. If she did, she'd die from humiliation on the spot.

Above her, Cheryl gave a deep sigh, as though she knew what she had to do but definitely didn't want to. She hiked up her straight black skirt to her thighs, sat down on the icy floor in front of Elaine, then pulled the girl's hands away from her swollen face. "Tell me."

Elaine shook her head. "Can't," she eventually said, barely managing to choke out the word.

"Anything to do with Jim Pendal?"

Elaine gasped. "How could you know?" She wasn't to the hiccup stage yet, but she could feel it coming.

"I watch people. And besides, you aren't exactly subtle. When he's around, you don't breathe."

Elaine put her hands back over her face. "Then he knows!"

"No, he doesn't. He's a boy. He only knows about food and sports."

"And Gena Upton," Elaine said loudly.

"She went after him. His family is rich and Jim is a hunk. My guess is that she's trying to get him to knock her up so he can't get away."

Elaine drew in her breath so hard that she started coughing.

Patiently, Cheryl waited until Elaine got herself under control. "Now tell me what you did."

Elaine shook her head. "No, I can't. It's too stupid. Today women are supposed to stand up for themselves. Find careers. But all I've ever wanted is..."

"Jim Pendal."

Elaine nodded.

Tenderly, almost motherly, Cheryl smoothed a strand of hair behind Elaine's ear. "You know," she said softly, "that's not really true. You pay attention to your clothes."

"Gena says I dress weird."

"Not weird but different. Not like everyone else."

"Not like you," Elaine said, then gasped. "I didn't mean anything bad."

Cheryl smiled. "I'm practicing for the life I want, but this isn't about me. What did you do to try to get Jim to notice you?"

Elaine hesitated. "I made a plan that took me a whole year to pull off."

"I do that, too!" Cheryl's eyes widened. "I'm making a plan for my entire life. But what did you do?"

"Do you know Dane Olsen?"

Cheryl groaned. "That leech! I despise him. He stops by my locker and says he's going to give me the pleasure of going out with him."

"Out to the back seat of his dad's Lincoln."

"Exactly," Cheryl said. "So what about him? Did he proposition you, too?"

"Yes, but only to do his science work. We were assigned as lab partners. For the whole year."

"Gag." Cheryl's head came up. "Jim and Dane are best friends. I can't imagine why."

Elaine shrugged. "Jim is serious; Dane isn't. I guess it's sort of opposites attract."

"Ah," Cheryl said. "You did something for Dane in order to get close to Jim. From your misery, it doesn't seem to have worked."

"No, it didn't, but I was so honest and up-front with Dane."

"A mistake," Cheryl said. "He wouldn't know honesty if it bit him. What did you ask of him?"

"I said I'd help him with his science if he'd take me to the Spring Fling in May. Not the prom—that's too important—but to the small dance. He agreed."

"The Spring Fling is in two days."

Elaine drew in a trembling breath. "Today Dane said he doesn't remember agreeing to that and he's thinking about taking Theresa Lambert. They're going to double-date with Jim and Gena."

Cheryl looked thoughtful. "Since you and Jim graduate in June, this will be your last... Actually, your only chance with him. Unless you're going to the same universities?"

Elaine's tears started again and she could only shake her head.

"Okay, so we need to fix this now," Cheryl said. "First of all, Gena won't go on a double date with Theresa Lambert. She has a cute face and triple-D boobs. Gena would be afraid that Theresa would get too much attention. Gena would much rather double-date with you."

Cheryl's meaning was clear. There was absolutely nothing about Elaine that would make any female jealous. She was plain-faced. Not pretty, not ugly. And she was tall and shapeless. Not curvy in that Marilyn Monroe way that high-school boys liked so much.

Having her flaws spoken of so coolly had a sobering effect on Elaine. When the tears seemed to draw back into her, she started to get up.

But Cheryl put her hands on her forearms. "Gena Upton is stupid. Clever but dumb. And blind. What's your dress for the dance like?"

"I made one. It's silk and strapless. I hand-sewed tiny silver sequins in a kind of sunburst on the skirt and bodice. It took me weeks." She sniffed. "But my mom made me buy a dress. Pink with tulle over the skirt. She wants me to wear it so I don't stand out."

"Screw your mother," Cheryl said. "Sorry. I envy your fashion sense. The dance is Saturday night, so bring the gown and shoes to my house about three that afternoon and I'll fix your face and dress you."

Elaine was still smarting from Cheryl's earlier comment. "You're going to perform surgery?"

Cheryl leaned forward so they were nose to nose. "Do you really not know? You have one of those faces that with the right makeup can be anything. And your skin is beautiful! Gena Upton, with her big eyes and thin lips, won't age well. But you... I can make you look like a model."

Elaine's jaw seemed to drop lower with each word she heard.

Cheryl leaned back, frowning. "I just realized that this could be bad. If you show up looking great, Gena will probably pull a Cinderella and tear you apart. You'll be left in your underwear with bloody claw marks on your face. And your ego will be destroyed."

"I don't..." Elaine whispered. "I'm not sure..."

Cheryl stood up. "Leave this to me. I'll take Gena out of this. At least for one night." She held out her hand. "I've been on the receiving end of that girl's venom too many times. Come on, get up and wash your face. Tell people your allergies made your eyes red. Don't talk to Dane today and please, please stop looking at Jim Pendal as though he's an angel come to earth."

"He is, isn't he?"

"Not my taste, but he's a nice guy." A bell rang. Classes were over and the restroom would soon be full of girls. When the door opened, Cheryl said, "Act like you don't know me. I won't do your reputation any good."

Elaine started to protest that, but Cheryl quickly left. For the rest of the day, Elaine did exactly as Cheryl had told her. She tried to keep her mind on what the teacher was saying, but really! Who cared about some whale defending itself against men with spears?

She did all she could to keep her eyes off Jim Pendal. In Spanish class, he sat three seats ahead of her and to her left. She'd arranged that so she could pretend to look at the chalkboard, but she really just stared at the back of Jim's head.

At the end of school, she was beginning to lose hope. Nothing seemed to have changed. No one had said a word to her about the Spring Fling. Was it on or off?

As she got her books out of her locker, deciding what to take home and what to leave, she could feel her anxiety going from hope to depression. It was like she was standing at the top of a forty-foot-long children's slide and she was about to start the descent that would leave her at the bottom. Forever.

"Hi," said a male voice behind her.

Elaine turned so quickly she almost hit him with a book. It was him. Jim Pendal.

The most gorgeous, talented, smartest—et cetera—human on the planet. She couldn't speak.

"I want to apologize for my friend Dane. He said you helped him out with his science because you want to go out with him." Jim gave a small laugh at the vanity of that statement. "Is it him or the dance you want?"

"Dance." Her voice was weak. He smelled so good that she had to put her hand on her locker to keep from falling to the floor.

"I thought so. I like to dance, too. You mind if it's a double date?"

She managed to shake her head.

"Good. We'll pick you up at six on Saturday night. You live on Pine Grove, right? House with the red door?"

Again, all she could do was nod. He knew where she lived! He knew where she lived!

He stepped away but then turned back. "I think you should know that my girlfriend, Gena, is the one who arranged all this. Dane wanted to take Theresa Lambert but Gena said she liked you better."

"Thank..." Elaine cleared her throat. "Thank you. And her."

"You can tell her on Saturday. Oh! What color is your dress? For the flowers?"

"Blue."

He smiled at her. "Like your eyes."

Some guy yelled, "Hey, Pendal," and Jim caught a ball and ran down the corridor. As always, the students parted to let the sports gods pass.

On Friday, Elaine was so nervous she couldn't think. In each of her classes, she was the student the teachers could count on for an answer to any question. But this day, she just sat there.

One teacher, a nasty little man, said, "It looks like you have a date for the dance."

Not realizing that he was making fun of her, she happily said, "I do!" The whole class burst into laughter.

At home she stayed in her room, saying she had to study for a test. She knew her eagle-eyed mother would know that something was different.

On Saturday, she lied to her mother and said that she and some friends were going to get ready for the dance together.

Instantly, her mother looked like she wanted to cry in happiness. In high school in New Hampshire, she'd been a popular girl, invited to every social event. The only antisocial thing she'd ever done was fall in love with a shy nerd who wanted to become a tax accountant and live where he never again saw snow.

Her mother offered to drive her, but Elaine said no. She knew her mother would want to meet the other girls and chat with them, maybe even take them homemade cookies. She wouldn't like that her only child was going to a house in the worst part of Lachlan. And besides, there were whispers about Cheryl's mother.

When her mother kept pushing to accompany her daughter, Elaine sat down and said she wasn't going to go. It was the closest she'd ever come to throwing a temper tantrum.

Finally, her mother relented. Elaine put the dress she'd made into a long garment bag, her shoes at the bottom, and rode away on her bike.

When she reached Cheryl's house, she hesitated. The whole road was full of small houses in need of repair. Next door, empty cans littered the front porch and weeds grew through the old sidewalk. She'd heard people say this area was a "shame" and she could see what they meant.

Cheryl had slipped her a note earlier saying to come to the side door. Elaine hid her bike under a window, near a propane tank, then stared in shock at the backyard. It had rusty machinery in it and a big hole toward the back fence.

"Horrible, isn't it?" Cheryl had opened the screen door and was standing there.

She had on jeans but she looked as perfect as she did at school.

Elaine thought it was better not to lie. "It is awful. Somebody should clean it up."

"Mom and I agree but the landlord wants too much to do it. Come in."

Elaine was afraid the inside would be as bad as the outside, but it was nice. The house was clean and felt warm and friendly. The furniture in the living room was plain but it had been decorated with bright pillows, and a scarf tossed across the back of the sofa. There were many framed pictures on the wall, all of them looking to be original.

"These are pretty," Elaine said. "Who did them?"

"My mother. She likes to paint on weekends."

There were sunsets and old buildings and, Elaine's favorite, a beat-up old truck in a weed-infested field. "I really like them."

Cheryl seemed to be pleased by that and said thanks.

The kitchen was a separate room and Cheryl led the way. "We need to start by deep-conditioning your hair. It will help tone down the frizz."

To Elaine's surprise, there was a boy, eleven or twelve, sitting on a stool by the worn Formica counter. He was eating a huge piece of cherry pie. Nearby was a glass of milk and a big video camera.

Cheryl went to the old refrigerator and pulled out a jar of mayonnaise. "This is Jack. He's going to be helping me with a project this summer."

"Hi," Elaine said, but Jack said nothing. He just stared at her as though he didn't want her there.

"Jack." Cheryl's tone was of disapproval.

"Hi," he said reluctantly, then downed the last of the milk.

Cheryl handed him three one-dollar bills. "We need more milk, so you can go get some."

"I haven't finished my pie."

"Take it with you."

The boy looked like he was about to refuse, but he finally got off the stool, took the money and the rest of his pie, and left.

"Wow," Elaine said. "What's his problem? And who is he?"

"Roy Wyatt's son."

Elaine had to think where she'd heard that name. "Oh! Isn't he the guy who's always in trouble?"

Before Cheryl spoke, she looked outside to make sure Jack was gone. "Yes, he is. A couple of years ago, Jack's parents had a vicious custody battle. His mother hired a lawyer to have her ex-husband declared unfit, but then there was an accident at work." She motioned for Elaine to sit on a kitchen stool, and she put a towel about her shoulders.

"Was Roy hurt?"

"Heavens no!" Cheryl began slathering mayonnaise on Elaine's hair. "But Jack's stepfather was. He's a building contractor and a new wall that had been nailed down fell on him. When it happened, Roy was surrounded by men in a bar, but everyone knew he'd done it. Jealousy. But Jack's mother dropped her suit, so now the boy spends a lot of the summer with his father, stepmother and his little brother."

"I didn't hear any of this. Who told you?"

"I hear things," Cheryl said quickly, then was silent.

Elaine could tell that she'd overstepped. Looked like Cheryl's sources of gossip were off-limits. "Do you know the boy's dad?"

"No." She was massaging Elaine's scalp. "I met Jack when I got tangled up in a clothesline and couldn't get out. He was riding by on his bike and heard me call for help. He saved me."

Elaine still wasn't understanding the connection. "So why is the boy here now?"

"He brought the camera by. This summer his little brother is with his grandparents in Colorado, so Jack is going to film me doing some broadcasts." Cheryl wrapped the towel around Elaine's hair, then told her to stretch out on the kitchen table.

"Do what?"

"I want you to lie down with your head at this end. I'm going to try my best to get some moisturizer into your skin. What products do you usually use?"

"Soap and water?"

Cheryl groaned. "How do you expect to accomplish anything in life if you don't take care of yourself first?"

Elaine was sitting on the old chrome-legged table but it wobbled. "Don't worry. It's safe. I give my mom facials every week."

Elaine stretched out and Cheryl put a rolled-up towel under her neck. "What do you want to broadcast?"

"The news."

"You mean like on Good Morning America?"

"Yes and no," Cheryl said. "I just want to do the local news." She was putting a nice-smelling lotion on Elaine's face.

"But being a journalist could take you around the world."

"I don't want to go around the world."

She said it so firmly that Elaine opened her eyes. She knew little about Cheryl.

Until two days ago she wasn't sure of her name. "What do you want to do?"

"Get respect," Cheryl said. "I want...normal, I guess. A nice husband, two children, a lovely house. I don't want to get stuck with one of the Roy Wyatts of this world."

Elaine was beginning to understand. She'd read somewhere, "Dress like what you mean to achieve." "Is that why you wear what you do? So you don't attract people like the Wyatts?"

"Yes!" She smeared a clay mask on Elaine's face, then stepped back. "Clothes are powerful tools. They're a key that unlocks doors. I want my children to go to great colleges. I want dinner parties. When people see me, I want them to feel a sense of respect."

"A sort of Lady of the Manor."

Something about that made Cheryl laugh.

"I still think you should go to New York and get a job—"

"If I don't do it here in Lachlan, it won't matter. Being a broadcaster elsewhere would just be a job. I need to show people here that my family isn't what they think we are." She dried off her hands. "That's enough about me. What about you? What are you going to study at university?"

"English lit. My mom says that being a teacher is a good job for a woman."

"Where did you get that white jacket with the red piping?"

"I made it. When I was twelve, I spent the summer with my father's sister in North Carolina. She taught me how to sew. I loved designing things. I made whole new wardrobes for my aunt and me. We were a big hit at church."

"Then what?" Cheryl began taking the clay off Elaine's face.

"Nothing. I came home and went back to school. No more sewing. My mother doesn't believe in what she calls artsy-fartsy stuff."

"And your father?"

"He just wants me to be happy."

Cheryl began massaging moisturizer into Elaine's face. "I think you should pursue a job in fashion. I know! Change your major to business and make clothes on the side. Sell them on campus and take lots of photos. When you graduate, go to New York and present your portfolio of designs to some big shots at a design house."

Elaine was loving this fantasy. "And what about Jim?"

"Jim Pendal is so good-natured that he'll follow you anywhere. You just need to make him fall in love with you now so that he changes to UCF. You two must be together during college or some girl will snatch him up before he finishes the first year. Jim is pure husband material. He won't last long out there with all those hungry, grabbing girls."

Elaine was laughing. "So tonight I'm to stand up against the very strong personalities of Gena and Dane and make Jim like me so much that he decides to go to school with me and... What? Marry me and live happily ever after? While I'm some famous clothes designer in New York, that is?"

"Why not? Besides, I made a few calls." That seemed to be all Cheryl was going to say, but Elaine stared at her to tell all.

"I'm good at imitating voices. ‘Our boys are gonna win! And if they don't, I'll nail their hides to a fence post.'"

Elaine was wide-eyed. Cheryl sounded exactly like their coach.

"Would you like some tea, ma'am?"

"That's English."

Cheryl quickly ran through half a dozen accents, then mimicked three teachers. It was when she spoke so much like their common enemy, Gena, that Elaine nearly fell off the table laughing.

"I'm afraid to ask. What did you do?"

"My mother has a friend who owns a very nice Italian restaurant in Fort Lauderdale. Let's just say that, due to some phone calls that Gena and Dane received, there is going to be a major mix-up of who is supposed to be where. Those two are going to the restaurant instead of the dance. There might even be another misunderstanding about ages and they might be served bottles of champagne. Or maybe it's sparkling apple juice in a champagne bottle. I forget which."

"Are you saying that Jim is mine for a whole evening?"

"Or longer." She took Elaine by the shoulders. "I've seen you with other people. You're funny. You're creative. You're smart. But if you keep staring at Jim like he's something to be worshipped, you'll never see him again. Let him see the real you. Show him what he's missing by being chained to a dog like Gena."

Elaine was looking at her in wonder. "Why don't you have a boyfriend?"

"You think I don't?" She put her hands up. "I've said too much. I want you to get in the shower and wash that conditioner out of your hair now. We still have work to do and only a few hours to do it. Mark is going to get a workout tonight."

"Who is Mark?"

Cheryl nodded toward a red leather case on the table. "My Mark Cross is full of things that are going to show the world the beauty that is within you."

"Mark better put on his work clothes because he has a big job ahead of him."

Cheryl laughed. "Go on. Get cleaned up..."

Elaine looked as though she'd come out of a trance of memory, but there was a smile on her face. "Cheryl gave me one of the best nights of my life. Jim and I sat with his friends—the glamorous people of the school—and I was on. Like a spotlight had been turned on inside me, I lit up. I thought, This is where I belong. With these people. And you know what? They never said it out loud but they were glad to be around Jim without his little entourage of Dane and Gena. We laughed and danced and were full of the joy of being young and alive."

"And what happened afterward?" Sara asked.

"Jim went back to Gena and I took Cheryl's advice to act like I didn't mind. But that night at the dance had put a crack in the dam. The other girls loved the dress I wore and asked me to design theirs for the prom. A couple of times one of them would be talking to Gena and they'd leave her when they spotted me so they could show me a color they liked or a fabric. Sometimes just to chat. About two weeks later, Gena started throwing accusations at Jim and she broke up with him. He asked me to go to the prom with him—which I did. It was another magical night and that's when we started talking about going to college together."

"You started all this by saying that you knew someone who hated Cheryl enough to kill her," Jack said. "It seems like Gena would be angry at you."

"I thought she would be, but Gena was not only a control freak, she was also a spy. When we met that first time in the bathroom, Cheryl told me to act like I didn't know her. After she helped me, she still insisted I keep up the charade. I didn't like doing it, but I listened. Then, the first Saturday after graduation, I saw her outside the ice-cream shop and I asked her to go in with me. I was dying to tell her that her plan worked. We were sitting there with big chocolate malteds, laughing together, with Cheryl congratulating me, when Gena came to the table.

"I'd seen her at school and I thought she'd be furious at me for picking up the boyfriend she'd thrown away. She'd given me some dirty looks but she'd never said anything. I thought I'd misjudged her, that she was actually a gracious loser."

Elaine paused, as though what she was about to say was hard for her. "Gena came to our table and didn't so much as look at me. Her eyes were only on Cheryl and she said, ‘You did this, didn't you?' She jerked her head at me and said, ‘This one is too innocent to pull off what she did all on her own. All she knows how to do is make cow eyes at my boyfriend and cry herself to sleep.'"

Elaine paused. "When I look back on it, I know I should have stood up to her and defended my friend but she really scared me. Gena sneered at Cheryl and said, ‘I knew that if I watched long enough I'd find out who really took my life away from me. There's nothing innocent about you. When you want something, you go get it. I had everything planned and you destroyed it.'"

Elaine looked at her hands for a moment. "What she said next haunts me. Gena said, ‘I'm going to do the same thing to you. Whatever it is that you want, I'm going to see that you don't get it.'"

Elaine took a moment to calm herself. "Gena left after that. She walked out with her head up and her shoulders back, like she'd won a battle. Cheryl and I hadn't said a word. When Gena was gone, I reverted to a whimpering bag of mush and started crying. I was so afraid of her wrath. But Cheryl put her hand over mine and said I wasn't to worry. She said she had a secret weapon that no one, not even her mother, knew about, and that everything would be all right."

Jack, Sara and Kate were quiet for a moment, absorbing the story, then Sara said, "Your last name is Pendal, so I take it that you and Jim married. Still together?"

"Very much so. We have three beautiful children—two girls, and a boy born last year." Elaine paused for a moment. "When I said I owed my entire life to Cheryl, I meant it. Jim and I went to UCF and I told him what Cheryl said I should do. He thought it was a great idea. We both majored in business but he was much better at it than I was. My mind was mostly on designing and sewing and selling.

"After we graduated, we went to New York, and I got a job with a designer who eventually let me open my own label. Jim runs the business side of the company." She smiled. "Remember Cheryl's little red Mark Cross case? When I branded my line, I used half of that name."

Kate gasped. "You're Elaine Cross?" She stood up. "Elaine Cross!"

She smiled. "I am."

Kate turned, as though she meant to run to her own room, but she stopped. "Oh, no! You're going to hate me. I copy... I mean I..." She sat back down. "I love your designs."

"I'll send you this year's collection. Anybody who cares about Cheryl is my friend."

All Kate could do was nod.

After Elaine left, the three of them stayed in Jack's room. For a while, they just silently stared out the windows.

Kate was the first to speak. "Do you think this Gena murdered Cheryl?"

"Looking at it from a writer's point of view," Sara said, "I'd say no. She'd want Cheryl alive so she would suffer."

"But she didn't get a chance," Jack said. "Someone else wanted Cheryl out of the picture completely."

"Or Verna." Kate stood up. "I'm going to see what needs to be done with the other people. Wonder if your mom found any more interesting notes."

Kate left, then soon returned to signal that it was okay for them to come out. The girls who'd pestered Jack and the people waiting for autographs had left. There were no more notes that had anything but platitudes on them. On the kitchen counter were the names and addresses of people who still wanted their books. Janet from church said she'd mail them out once Sara had a chance to sign them.

"She's a godsend," Kate said absently as she started clearing up the debris from the party.

It was after seven when it was done. Heather and Ivy had left, both of them hugging Kate and Sara, and exchanging cheek kisses. Jack was filling a bowl full of ice cream.

Sara looked at her niece and said, "I don't know about you but I could stand some Kelly."

"As in Chicago?"

"Oh, yeah."

Smiling, the two women went to the big couch in the family room. Sara picked up the remote.

Jack put down his crutches, made his way to sit between them and took the remote. "What are we watching?"

"Severide," they said in unison.

Groaning, Jack turned on the TV and brought up Hulu. The women directed him to choose Chicago Fire.

"Yet another man," Jack mumbled.

He started to eat his ice cream, but when he looked at the women curled up at the ends of the couch, their legs drawn up, he lifted his bowl.

They stretched out, their feet in Jack's lap. He pulled a soft lap robe off the back of the couch, covered their bare feet and put the ice-cream bowl on top. They settled in to watch back-to-back episodes of the TV series they all enjoyed.

Sort of watched it. In their minds was the story they'd heard that day. Cheryl had done a very good deed for a girl she hardly knew. She had changed Elaine's and Jim's lives. And in a way, she'd changed the world. The Elaine Cross line of clothing wasn't necessary to the earth's health, but it provided jobs and gave pleasure. More couldn't be asked.

Yet Cheryl hadn't been allowed to live to see what she'd done. The question of "where do we go from here?" hung in the air.

During the credits of the first episode, Sara said, "We have to find Gena."

"Yes," Jack said.

"When we go, do we take arsenic or hemlock?" Kate said and the others smiled.

It was exactly how they all felt.

The next morning at breakfast, they agreed that the best thing would be to get back to normal.

"As if we've had any normal." Sara turned to Kate. "I still want to show you around South Florida."

"I'd like that."

Jack was moving eggs about on his plate and saying nothing.

Once Kate got to her office, everyone stared at her, but no one asked any questions.

Tayla gave her the listings and the code to the locks on the doors. "I want my agents to see a house before they try to sell it, so go look at them. If you see anything distinctive, put it in the specs."

Kate was glad to get out on her own. Her mind was so full of what had been going on that it was hard to think of small talk. "So how was your weekend?" wouldn't end in "Oh, fine. How was yours?"

She finally had a map of Lachlan and used it to find her way around town.

Tayla's specs included comments about each house. There were selling points, like walk-in closets, divine kitchen, new air-conditioning.

But there were also coded comments. "Make it your own" meant the house needed to be gutted. "Cozy" meant too small for more than three pieces of furniture.

But Kate's thoughts were so filled with the Morris women that it was hard to concentrate on what she was seeing.

When she left the bedroom of the eighth house and Jack was standing by the front door, leaning on his crutches, she wasn't surprised.

"The Matthews family owned this house," he said. "It needs a new roof and the plumbing is bad. There are three dogs buried in the backyard."

"Okay, Mr. Sunshine, what's happened?"

"We found Gena. She's in Miami."

Kate took out her cell. "I'll call Tayla and tell her—"

"Sara called her and they made up and they're going to spend today at a spa. Together. Talking about old times."

"I guess that really means that Aunt Sara is in the back seat waiting for us, and you called Melissa to flirt with her so she'd tell Tayla that I'd be gone."

Jack tried to repress his laughter but didn't succeed. "Exactly right. Can you imagine them suddenly being best friends? Hey, you want tacos? It's on the way and I'm driving."

"Think they have salads?"

"Ones with no calories at all. It's a miracle."

"Laugh all you want, but if you keep sitting and eating barrels of food, you won't keep that flat belly." She walked past him, her head high.

"Glad you noticed that I have one."

They locked the house and got in Sara's MINI, leaving Kate's car in the driveway.

On the long drive south through big, bad Miami, Kate described the houses she'd seen and Jack told the history of some of them. Sara knew a few of the families and their backgrounds.

They sat in the parking lot to eat tacos—with Jack eating the fried tortillas that the women wouldn't touch.

"So how did you find her?" Kate asked. "And what has she done with her life?"

Sara spoke. "Heather emailed us. Get this. Gena married Dane Olsen just out of high school and their baby was born six months later."

"Cheryl was right that Gena was trying to get knocked up to catch a man," Kate said.

"Cheryl was right about most things," Jack said. "Are you gonna eat that sour cream?"

With a pointed look at his midsection, Kate handed him the little cup. "Did they live happily ever after?"

"Dane left her before their child turned one," Sara said. "Five years later, he was arrested for dealing cocaine and spent three years in prison. After that, he wisely seems to have disappeared."

"And Gena?" Kate asked.

"At least three marriages. Takes any job she can get. Never stays with one for long. She had only the one child and he's nineteen now. He seems to like to steal cars."

In silence, they tossed their wrappers and Jack pulled onto the road.

He left the highway and drove into a neighborhood that needed work. The houses were small, close together and neglected. They made the Morris house in Lachlan look almost palatial.

Jack parked on the street. "Hope the hubcaps are here when we get back." When the women were silent, he stepped between them and put an arm across each set of shoulders. "You need to remember that whatever she says happened a long time ago. It's over and done with, and the pain was buried under a poinciana tree." Pausing, he looked from one to the other. "Let's stay polite. No anger. We'll get more out of her that way. And let's try to get leads of where to go next. Understood?"

The women nodded, then followed Jack up the weedy driveway. He knocked on the metal door. There was no answer.

"Did you call to make sure she was here?" Kate asked.

"And send her packing?" Jack said. "No, we didn't." He knocked again. Still no answer.

They were about to turn away when the door was opened by a woman who looked enough like the school photos that they knew she was Gena Upton. It was hard to believe she was under forty years old. Her bleached hair was dry to the point of cracking, and her skin was an illustration for how sun could damage a person's skin.

She looked like she'd been sleeping. There was black makeup smudged under her eyes and a bit of lipstick at the corner of her mouth. "You." She was looking at Jack and her voice was hoarse. "I've been expecting you." She gave a brief glance at Sara and Kate. "Looks like you still live in a circle of women."

Sara started to say something, but Jack put himself in front of her.

"Mind if we come in? We'd like to talk to you."

"I bet you would." She stepped back and they went inside. The furniture was old and worn. But what permeated the place was years of cigarette smoke.

Gena sat down in a wood-framed chair, while Kate, Jack and Sara took the couch. Gena lit a cigarette, took a deep draw, then said, "I saw on TV what happened. I figured it wouldn't be long before somebody came to me. I was never quiet about what I thought of Cheryl Morris. It's the innocent ones like me who always get blamed."

"Why don't you tell us your side of the story?" Sara's voice sounded caring and concerned.

Gena took another deep draw and let the smoke come out slowly. "Because of that girl, in one night I went from having it all to having nothing. She set me up to get drunk with a loser named Dane Olsen, and we slept together. And why not? The man I loved was in bed with that slut Elaine Langley. I've always wondered what trick she used to entice him."

"She made him laugh," Sara said. "And she was nice to him. She liked him." Sara's eyes were like an eagle with a rat in sight.

"Yeah, well, it wasn't real. That girl went around school wearing the stupidest clothes anyone had ever seen. She looked like a clown."

Kate started to say something but Jack put his hand over hers.

"Would you tell us more?" Jack sounded interested in what she had to tell.

Gena's sun-damaged face relaxed into a smile of pure pleasure. "I can't say I was disappointed when I heard Cheryl was dead. Murdered, wasn't she?"

"We think so." Jack showed no emotion, but he gripped Kate's hand so hard it almost hurt. But then, she needed that to keep from throwing the heavy glass ashtray on the old coffee table at the woman.

"Wonder who else hated her? Besides me, that is." Gena's voice showed that she was pleased by it all.

"We're only interested in you," Jack said.

Kate wriggled her hand from under his before he broke bones.

"All this—" she waved her hand around "—is due to Cheryl Morris. If she hadn't interfered, I'd now be Mrs. Jim Pendal and living in a nice house and wearing good clothes. She—"

"What did you do to her?" Sara was trying to conceal her anger. "How did you get her back for what you believed she'd done to you?"

"Heard about that, did you? Who told you? Wait. I bet it was that slut Elaine. What happened to her? Jim ever see through her and dump her?"

"Yes, he did." Sara didn't so much as blink at the lie. "He found out the truth about what she was like and left her. He's now lonely and looking. What did you do?"

Gena leaned back against the old chair and smiled as though her life was going to change for the better. "You may not think it, but I can make myself look good. I just need a little makeup. I'll get Jim back in no time." She looked at them as though expecting encouragement, but they said nothing. "The truth is that I've wanted to tell this story for twenty years, but I couldn't. Now that everyone is dead, I guess there's no reason to keep it secret." She smiled slowly. "It was a masterful plan and it worked perfectly."

She lit another cigarette. "I was in the bakery in town and feeling about as low as a person can be. I was supposed to leave for college in just a few days. University of Virginia. Jim and I were going to go there together. But because of what Cheryl Morris had done, Jim had changed schools, changed girlfriends, changed everything. And I was left alone. By myself."

Her frown changed to a smile. "But then fate took over. I was sitting in that bakery when Roy Wyatt's oldest kid came in." She gave Jack an up-and-down look. "You grew up as pretty as your father. But I think you're soft. Not like him at all." She said it as though it were a condemnation, a failure on Jack's part.

"Anyway, I saw you buy a birthday cake. I knew it was for her. You see, several times during that horrible summer I'd driven over there and parked in front of that rattrap of a house of hers and watched. I wondered how she felt at having destroyed a person's life. I saw a kid—you—go into her house, and I made it my business to see what you two were doing. I couldn't believe that she was planning for a career where she'd be on TV. She'd ruined my life but she was going to be a star on TV? She was going to have a life of nothing but good?" When Gena took a deep drag, her hand was shaking.

"I broke then. I drove away and cried for days. It was like there was no justice in the world. She got everything and I was to get nothing? That wasn't right."

"What did you do?" Jack asked.

She smiled at him. "I drove over to where Roy Wyatt was working on cars. With a whole lot of tears, I told him that I'd seen Cheryl Morris giving his eleven-year-old son a blow job."

The only sound was the sharp, angry intake of breath, but Gena didn't seem to notice.

"Of course, I didn't use those words. I just described the deed to your dad. And I asked him why Cheryl was doing such a thing to a little boy. Was it a cure for some illness?"

Gena was laughing at her own cleverness. "Your dad, for all that he screwed half the women in town, fell for it. He kissed me on the forehead and told me he'd take care of it all."

Gena stubbed out her cigarette and lit another one. "And from what I heard, he did take care of it. What a man he was! He yelled at that bitch Cheryl, then he told old Captain Edison everything. I don't think he believed Roy, because the sheriff had me personally tell it all over again. I was a great actress. I acted wide-eyed innocent and described pants down around ankles and lipstick and... You get the idea."

She looked at Sara. "You write those books, don't you? I oughta tell you my life story, you write it, then we'll share the money. I bet it'd make millions. I could tell you lots about my second husband."

Sara's voice was low. "There's enough hate in the world. I don't need to add to it."

"Oh, well. You're probably so rich that you don't need more money. And why help someone else?" Gena paused, waiting to see if Sara would change her mind, but she was silent. "So anyway, I begged the sheriff to keep my name out of it. I told him I'd been traumatized by what I'd seen and I didn't want anybody to know. He was a nice old man and he said he understood."

When the three of them remained silent, Gena seemed to at last see the anger in their eyes. "Look, if you think I had anything to do with that murder, you're wrong. All I did was give payback for what she'd done to me. It was a high-school prank. Nothing serious. Besides, right after that, I left for college. But then I found out I was pregnant, so I had to drop out. I married that no-good bastard Dane and I—" She shrugged. "But you don't care about what happened to me, do you? Only to that Morris girl. If you ask me, she got what she deserved. She asked for it. She—"

"Who else did you see at Cheryl's house?" Kate asked loudly. "Who else visited?"

"Arthur Niederman. I saw him there several times. But I think he went there for the mother—if you know what I mean."

"Who was Cheryl's boyfriend?" Sara's teeth were clenched.

"The only one I saw is baby boy here. And who knows what they did when I wasn't there? Maybe I guessed the truth."

When Jack made a movement, Sara and Kate each grabbed an arm in case he decided to leap on her.

"Did you see anyone else?" Kate asked. "Anybody at all? Male or female? Young or old?"

Gena's wrinkled face seemed to drain of color. "You think I saw the murderer, don't you?" She stood up. "If he's watching you guys, he'll connect you to me. Get out! Get out! Now! Go!"

They hurried out the door, Jack's crutches catching on a torn piece of carpet, but Sara halted. "On the night you went out with the Olsen kid, the ‘champagne' you had was actually apple juice. And Elaine did not sleep with Jim. He was honorable and went back to you. But you broke up with him. Nobody has been at fault for your rotten life but you." Sara stepped outside.

With a sneer, Gena slammed the door.

When they got to the car, Sara took over. "You!" she said to Jack. "Get in the back. I'm driving."

He didn't protest. He handed Kate his crutches and she put them in the back.

Jack climbed into the rear seat, and Kate took the front passenger. Sara quickly turned the dial on the GPS to direct them through the labyrinth of Miami to get them home.

She handed her cell to Kate. "Send a text to Gil to come over with full padding. He needs to get rid of some energy."

She didn't have to say who "he" was. Kate glanced over the seat at Jack. He looked like a cross between a volcano about to erupt and a man who was going to sink into a depression and never come out of it.

Kate sent the message and they went home.