Tuesday#3

Language, Agnes.

To the gosh-darned country club.

Agnes pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, took a deep breath, and said, "Well, I think that's wonderful, but you can just forget the country?—"

"We'll have it all," Maria said, thrillingly. "My wedding in my grandpa's house, which Agnes will get painted?—"

Agnes started at the steel in Maria's voice and then nodded.

"—and Taylor's brilliant food, and Agnes's wonderful cake, and Maisie Shuttle's gorgeous flowers, which Grandma Brenda will get back for us?—"

Brenda flinched.

"—and Evie's cousin Wesley's marvelous photographs, and Palmer's fraternity brother's uncle's band, and it's going to be so perfect, so traditional and yet new."

"Well, that's very sweet, Maria," Brenda said, "but?—"

Shut up, Brenda,Agnes thought, seeing the red light behind Maria's eyes, so like the light in Lisa Livia's before the carnage began.

"And it will be all of that," Maria said, her voice rising, "because it will all be tied together by our theme, the symbol of Palmer's and my future."

"Theme?" Evie said, surprised.

"Theme?" Brenda said, confused.

"Oh, God," Agnes said, bracing herself.

Maria smiled at Palmer, out on the lawn, gazing at the grass.

"Grass?" Agnes said, thinking, Green, I could fake green by Saturday.

"Flamingos," Maria said.

"What the hell?" Brenda said, startled.

"You're joking, of course," Evie said.

"Pink," Agnes said, thinking, Pink, I can fake pink by Saturday.

Maria opened her bag and took out an eight-inch virulently pink plastic flamingo and slapped it on the table. "Isn't it just hysterical? It's a pen. Dina Delvecchio sent it to me when she found out that Palmer's big successful golf course is called the Flamingo. See, the feet are like the holder, and you pull the pen out?—"

"Dina Delvecchio?" Evie said, grasping at straws since the flamingo was probably beyond comprehension.

"Maria's maid of honor," Agnes said, staring at the flamingo pen. "Bless her heart" Goddammit, Brenda, you had to open your mouth, didn't you?

"—and we glue the place cards to the beaks," Maria went on. "They're only seventy-five cents each, so they're cheap, too, Grandma. You'll like that"

"That's seventy-five bucks for place cards," Brenda said, looking at the pink plastic with horror.

"Andthey double as party favors," Maria said virtuously. "I already ordered them, Agnes. They'll be here Thursday."

"Maria,"Evie said, staring in horror at the plastic flamingo.

"So, flamingos," Agnes said. It was awful, but it was at Two Rivers, so she was for it Marginally. "Arriving Thursday."

"And here's the best part." Maria held up the dress bag. "My dress. Or Grandma Brenda's dress."

"Don't call me Grandma," Brenda said.

"The big trend now is in colored wedding dresses," Maria said, unzipping the bag. "So ..."

She pulled off the bag and revealed an old-fashioned meringue wedding dress with a huge puffy skirt canopied with lace and bows.

All of it dyed flamingo pink.

"That's my wedding dress!"Brenda said, standing up and knocking over her chair.

"I know," Maria said, beaming. "I'm going to wear it just like you wanted. Brenda."

Okay,Agnes thought, sitting down in relief. There was no way in hell Maria would wear that horror of a dress anywhere. This was payback. She met Maria's eyes and said, "Fabulous idea. It'll be the talk of the county," and Maria said, "Well, I think so."

Fifteen minutes of cool reasoning and heated reproach later, Evie had left for the Keyes mansion in silent shock, and Brenda had gone back to the Brenda Belle, the Real Estate King's yacht, in outraged fury.

Agnes grinned. "So, flamingos."

"Of course not." Maria stuffed the dress back in the dress bag. "The dress was the giveaway, wasn't it?"

"I'd pay good money to see you in it," Agnes said. "If I had any good money."

Maria sighed. "Well, I had to do something. Evie's being so snotty about everything that I'd tell her to fuck off if she wasn't going to be my kids' grandma someday. And she's an angel compared to Brenda. Did you see that dress? She really expected me to wear it. And she really did cancel my dress, too, but Palmer ordered another one and they're going to express it here Friday if that's okay."

Agnes nodded. "I'll keep it for you."

Maria shook her head. "I swear to God, Palmer told Brenda four months ago that he'd pay for the wedding, but she said no, I was her granddaughter and she was going to take care of it all, and now she's pissed off the baker and the florist and wants to use the leftover flowers at the country club. Why did she offer to pay in the first place if she was going to act like this?"

"I don't know," Agnes said. "This is not like Brenda. I could see her insisting on wearing white to your wedding because it'll look good with her tan, but meddling like this? She's lost her mind."

Maria picked up the dress bag. "Well, it doesn't matter. I've settled her hash."

"So, just checking to make sure here, no flamingos?"

"Oh, the flamingo pens are coming," Maria said. "I don't know how far I have to carry my bluff. But the wedding is just like I planned it, white butterflies and daisies. I'm going to let them both stew for a while and then graciously agree to go back to the original plan, and they'll be so grateful, they'll get out of my way." Maria looked out over the lawn and waved to Palmer, who obediently turned and trotted back toward them.

She watched him with an odd expression on her face, and Agnes felt a chill.

"Are you two okay?"

"Yes," Maria said, and then frowned toward the house. "Is that Bobbie Hammond?"

"What?" Agnes said, and turned to see Detective Hammond coming out of the house. "Yep. So Palmer?—"

"Robbie and I dated one summer," Maria said, watching him instead of her fiancé, who was now approaching the gazebo.

Oh, great."He doesn't seem real bright," Agnes said.

Maria scowled at her. "He's a nice guy."

"Not much of a future," Agnes said.

"He serves and protects," Maria said.

"I think he has a girlfriend," Agnes said, having no idea what Hammond had.

"I'm engaged," Maria said coolly.

"Okay, then." Agnes began to clear up the cake plates. "Now I have to get Maisie Shuttle back on the job with the daisies and bake you some cake. What kind do you want?"

"Whatever holds up the icing," Maria said. "The coconut was good."

"Thank you," Agnes said. "I'll give you the chocolate raspberry for the rehearsal dinner."

"Wonderful," Maria said, but her voice was flat as she looked past Agnes to her intended, coming up the steps.

"Everything okay?" Palmer said.

"Yes, dear," Maria said.

They looked at each other in fairly cold silence.

No, no, no,Agnes thought. "I have some cake," she said to Palmer and prayed that whatever it was, they'd get over it by Saturday.

God, I'm shallow,she thought, and headed back to the house to make out her list of cake supplies and to work on her column. That had to be done by Saturday, too. Everything had to be done by Saturday.

Sunday's going to be a good day, she thought.

Assuming she lived that long.

An hourafter he left Two Rivers, Shane sat outside Joey's diner in the Defender and worked at the message on his cell phone until he had it all decrypted:

WRONG TARGET HIT

CASEY DEAN STILL ACTIVE

CALL TO SET UP MEET TO DISCUSS ASAP.

"Fuck." He'd killed the wrong guy. Too many intel screwups like this lately. Somebody needed to go in there and kick some ass. Wilson would have once, but he was getting old.

Rhett was hanging his head out the passenger window, looking miserable. I know how you feel, Shane thought. He slammed his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. First Joey and his little Agnes and his mysteries, and now this screwup.

Shane flipped open the cell phone and punched in number 2 on the speed-dial. It was answered on the second ring.

"Wilson."

"I'm in Keyes."

"Why?"

"Personal business. What happened with the intel?"

Three seconds passed, which was a very long time in Shane's experience dealing with Wilson. The emptiness was tilled with clicking noises as the signal was encrypted, bounced between government satellites, and decrypted.

"I'll meet you in Keyes this evening, twenty-two hundred hours," Wilson said. "Location?"

Shane blinked. He always came to Wilson. "There's a floating dock at the junction of the Blood River and the Intracoastal Waterway."

The phone went dead and Shane closed it. He saw Joey lock up his diner and come slowly over, a newspaper in one hand. For the first time, he looked old to Shane.

"What's in the back?" Joey asked, jerking his head toward the large box in the bed of the truck as he got in, shooing Rhett over at the same time.

"Air conditioner unit," Shane said. "The one at Two Rivers isn't enough."

Joey raised his eyebrows. "Agnes come into some money, did she?"

Shane started the truck. "You shutting down for the day for real?"

"There's someone I need to talk to," Joey said. "Anybody I know?" Joey hesitated.

Shane figured he'd shown enough patience. "I got some questions, Joey. That's just the first."

Joey nodded. "Charlie ‘Four Wheels' Thibault. Grandpa of the kid who died last night."

Shane waited.

"I used to know him. Thinking I better go see him."

Shane nodded. "I'll drive you. Mind the slobber."

"Nice ride," Joey said, thumping the heavy side panel.

Shane pulled into the street and Joey pointed which way to drive. "So how'd you get to know this Four Wheels?"

"He was one of the guys back in the day," Joey said. "How's Agnes doing?"

Not subtle,Shane thought "She was with Evie Keyes and Brenda when I left."

Joey shook his head. "Poor little thing."

Shane thought of Agnes, round in those thin sweats, attacking that pepper on the chopping block, smacking him with the frying pan. Agnes was a lot of things, but poor and little weren't two of them. "Why'd you ask Agnes about Rhett last night, Joey?"

Joey looked out the window. "I always ask about Rhett. I worry about them both out there all alone." He turned back to Shane. "I've known her since she was a kid. She used to spend summers down here with Lisa Livia when they was in boarding school. They'd come into the diner and ask questions. Lisa Livia wanted to know how to run the place, she was all about the money." He laughed. "That Lisa Livia, she's no dummy. But Agnes, she wanted to know how to cook. All the time, wanting to know how to make this, why'd you put that in there, Joey?"

Shane kept his eyes on the road. He couldn't get two words about the Thibaults, but about Agnes he was getting a book. Nice try, Joey.

"Then they grew up and didn't come back anymore," Joey went on, seeming almost wistful. "I get a Christmas card every year from Agnes, sometimes she'd send me stuff in the mail, stuff she finds she thinks I like, diner stuff. But then about three, four years ago, here Agnes comes again, asking questions ‘cause now she has a newspaper column, and she remembered me, she's gonna write about me."

Shane looked over at the old man. He was grinning like it was a joke, but he was proud.

"About me," Joey repeated, shaking his head. "And then this editor in New York read the columns about me and said she wanted a book, and Agnes wrote one. The editor called it Mob Food. It came out last month, been selling real good, too, they say. That's where Agnes got some of the money for her half of the down payment on the house." He looked away, out the window. "My picture's on the cover. Leaning on the diner counter." He looked back at Shane. "I told her to forget about it, but Agnes said I had to be on the cover. And you know Agnes."

Shane nodded. "I'm starting to."

"She uses a lot of my stuff in her column, some other people's, too. She got a lot of stuff from Brenda, too, see Brenda's the one who taught her to cook?—"

Enough."So why did you ask Agnes about Rhett right before the kid broke in to take him?"

Joey looked out the window again. "Coincidence."

Shane swerved to the side of the road and slammed on the brakes, putting a hand out to keep Rhett from sliding off the seat. Rhett looked up at Shane, then at Joey, then sighed and put his head back down.

Shane stared at his uncle. "That gun at Agnes's was an old mobster's gun. That kid was the grandson of an old mob guy. There weren't that many old mob guys who retired down here, Joey. Just two, you and Frankie Fortunato, and now I hear about this Thibault guy. And I have to say that you retired down here pretty fucking young. You couldn't have been forty, either one of you. So I'm thinking there's a lot going on here that I need to know. Are you going to tell me this story? Or we gonna sit here all day?"

The seconds ticked away as Joey met his eyes; then he turned and looked out the window at the dark green woods of the swamp. Shane waited. The seconds turned into a minute, then two, and Rhett sighed once more. Then Joey sighed, deeper than Rhett, and looked back at Shane. He had a wan smile and he did look old. "You grown up, haven't you?"

"I grew up a long time ago, Joey. You saw to that."

Joey nodded. "Yeah. That was the idea." He looked out the window, still nodding, and Shane waited. When he turned back, the man Shane remembered was there. Solid. The shark smile. "Okay, Frankie and me was driving down to Miami to do a job for the old Don, Frankie's father. Our engine blew up right outside of Keyes. We got stuck here for a couple of days and we liked it. So we kept coming back every summer and then when we decided to retire,

Frankie and I figured we'd come here, do some work for the Don on the side.

"Then Frankie and I got a tip, this would be about twenty-five years ago now, that there was a freight car full of cigs on the rail line, ready to load to go overseas. We made most our money boosting freight cars when the port was still active. We kick up half the take to the Don in Jersey, split the rest twenty/twenty/ten with Charlie ‘Four Wheels' Thibault getting the ten percent ‘cause all he does is drive. Took Frankie's Caddy ‘cause it had the big trunk. Went down to the rail siding, bust in, but no cigs, just a safe, and it has this box on top, got a necklace in it, made of big hearts, junky-looking thing."

Joey shook his head. "I had a weird feeling about it. But the tip come from the Don, so we lift the safe out, and Frankie, he takes the necklace for Brenda because she's on his case all the time, he says, ‘cause she thinks he's cheating on her, which he is, but that's Frankie for you. We throw the safe in the trunk of Frankie's Caddy. Beat feet to Frankie's place, where Agnes lives now. Park just over that damn bridge; it was in better shape then. Take the safe down to Frankie's basement, open it up. Inside, no cigs. Five million dollars in nonsequential bills."

Shane raised his eyebrows.

Joey nodded. "Yeah, too much money. Four Wheels, he's scared shitless, he goes home. I go home. Frankie goes upstairs to Brenda. We figure we'll lay low, work something out. Except the next day, Frankie's gone, the safe's gone, the necklace is gone, the five mil is gone. Nobody knows nothin'. Four Wheels moves out to the swamp and shoots anybody who comes close."

"Where'd Frankie go?"

Joey shrugged. "Tahiti. Meet his maker. I dunno. Never seen or heard from again."

"Anybody come after you?"

Joey rubbed the scar over his eye. "A couple of times." He looked away.

There's more,Shane thought. "What's this got to do with Agnes?"

"This weekend, Agnes's column is on cooking for dogs, so her picture is a special one with Rhett." Joey held up the newspaper and gave it to Shane.

Shane spread it open. Inside was a column with a headline that said, cranky agnes and a picture of Agnes, smiling, big glasses and curly dark hair, with her arm around Rhett. Cute as all hell, Shane thought. "So?"

"Look at the dog's collar."

Shane peered closer. Rhett had a collar on that looked like it was made out of big junky-looking glass hearts.

Joey tapped the paper. "That's the necklace Frankie showed us that night. No one's seen it since that night, but there it is on Rhett. I think maybe the necklace and the five mil never left the house. And I think Four Wheels saw that picture and that's what he thinks, too. And maybe Four Wheels told somebody that, like one of his dumb-shit grandsons."

"Oh, fuck," Shane said. All of Keyes County could be coming for little Agnes if they thought she was sitting on five million bucks; that was why Joey had called in the heavy artillery. "You couldn't have told me this from the beginning?"

"I haven't told anybody this in twenty-five years," Joey said.

"Great." This, plus he'd killed the wrong guy in Savannah. Not a good week. And it was only Tuesday.

Joey seemed a little more relaxed now that his secret was out. "Xavier was the responding deputy on the case. Hell, the entire police force of Keyes, all four of them, was on the case. Everyone except Xavier kinda gave up when Frankie's Caddy was found abandoned at the Savannah Airport the next day and there was no sign of Frankie. But Xavier, he never gave up on it. It's the one he never solved, and it was his biggest one and he thinks it kept him from becoming sheriff and marryin' Evie Beale, Evie Keyes now. But Frankie wouldn't have blown town without saying nothing to me. We was closer than brothers."

"So who killed him and look the money?"

"No idea." Joey nodded to the road. "This is about Agnes. We go talk to Four Wheels and find out if he sent that little bastard alter our girl and what the fuck he knows. Drive."

Shane pulled back out onto the road, trying to find the wedge into Joey's story. Anybody could have killed Frankie for five million, but what that had to do with Agnes now?—

"Turn left on that dirt road," Joey ordered.

A large no trespassing sign was tacked to a tree. It was barely legible given that it had been riddled with buckshot.

As soon as he turned, Shane reached down next to his seat and pulled out his Glock Model 20 and placed it on his lap. He wasn't surprised when Joey pulled out his own pistol from his waistband and did the same. Shane recognized the make: a Colt Python revolver. Powerful and small. And the handle was wrapped with medical tape. Old dogs didn't learn new tricks. Rhett must have sensed the mood change, because he was peering ahead, out the windshield.

The road they were on barely deserved the moniker as it narrowed into a rutted track. The trees overhead linked branches to form a green tunnel.

"I don't like it," Shane said.

"Don't worry," Joey muttered. "Four Wheels ain't got—" He didn't get the rest of the sentence out, as there was a sharp snap and a hairline crack appeared in the windshield. "What the fuck?"

Rhett let out a bark as Shane slammed on the brakes. There was a ping, and Shane threw the truck into reverse as he spotted two teenagers with caps on backward, firing away with rifles from behind a log about fifty yards up the road.

"What the fuck is going on?" Joey demanded.

"Couple of kids shooting at us," Shane said as he gave the engine some gas and swiveled his head so he could negotiate the narrow track. Another ping, which he knew was a round hitting the armored front of the car. "More of the Thibault clan, I assume."

Joey reached for the door handle, but Shane had already overridden both the windows and the locks and the old man fumbled with it for several moments before realizing that.

"Open the fucking door, Shane."

"Nope." Shane saw the end of the track and the main road approaching, and he slowed down. No more shots; he assumed they were out of range and/or sight of the hidden firers.

"You just run away?" A vein was throbbing in Joey's forehead.

"When the odds aren't good, yeah." Shane spun the wheel and they were back on the county road.

"They teach you that in the army?"

"No." Shane looked at his uncle. "You did."

Joey took several deep breaths, then he slowly began to nod, and a resigned smile crept across his face. "Yeah, I did, didn't I? Always play the odds."

"This is the second time today I've been shot at," Shane said. "What?"

"First time was this morning in the woods near Agnes's house." Shane reached down and scratched Rhett's head. He'd thought that the shooting had more to do with him than Agnes, given the message he'd decoded, but he was reevaluating that now. And the bomb was a wild card that he needed to factor in. He was fucking reevaluating everything. He loved his uncle, but the old man hadn't put all his cards on the table yet, and that was troublesome. It looked like Agnes had bought more than just a lot of maintenance problems when she invested in that old mansion.

Joey's alarm was obvious. "The shooter. Was he a pro?"

"Hard to tell," Shane said.

Joey was staring out at the landscape whipping by. "I got you out of here when I sent you to school. I should have kept you away."

"Don't worry about it, Uncle Joey," Shane said, thinking about Agnes in her kitchen. "I've been in a lot worse places."

"Maybe you better go," Joey said.

Shane shot him a glance. "Not until this is straightened out."

"Shane, there could be pros out there. The Don's guys. They could be gunning for you now, too."

And there's my last question."Why would they be doing that?"

Joey looked away. "Figuring you were with me. You know."

Another lie,Shane thought, and began to wonder if there was anybody he could trust.

"Maybe you better just stick close to Agnes," Joey said.

"That's my plan," Shane said.

Agnes saton the swing on the finished screened-in back porch with a bottle of wine, a splitting headache, her laptop, and a pad of paper, trying to finish her latest To Do List and write her column while the Chicks sang softly in the background. It was hard concentrating with all the distractions, not the least of which had been Robbie Hammond coming back to the house to ask, "Was that Maria Fortunato?" with an expression on his face that said that whatever happened that summer they'd dated had had a major impact on him. "Yes, and she's getting married Saturday," Agnes had said firmly, and he'd gone away, leaving Agnes feeling a little guilty, but not much. Back to work.

The Chicks were singing "The Long Way Around," which seemed appropriate since the To Do List was getting the house painted, getting the bridge reinforced, finding an air conditioner on sale somewhere that also had really lax credit terms, ordering the cake supplies, and hunting Maisie Shuttle down to make her cough up a thousand daisies. The column was about the life-or-death importance of a cake that could hold up pounds of fondant and still taste like heaven when the guests chowed down, and Agnes loathed every boring word of it. She was trying to shoehorn in some insightful facts about the history of wedding cakes, but they were even worse?—

"I can't believe you bought this fuckin' dump."

Agnes looked up and saw a vision of petite southern loveliness— Southern Jersey, in this case—standing in the porch doorway: glossy brown ringlets framing big brown eyes, sharp features, and a wide red mouth, over a body built for a tube top and capri pants.

"LL?" Agnes felt tears spring to her eyes. "Oh, God, I've missed you!"

She got up from the swing, letting her laptop slide onto the cushions, and threw her arms around her best friend, knocking her glasses sideways in the process. Lisa Livia said, "Oh, honey, I've missed you, too," and hugged Agnes tight for a minute. Then she let go, shoved her own oversized sunglasses farther back on her head like a headband, looked up, and said, "Agnes, you dumbass, you are so screwed."

"Why?" Agnes straightened her glasses. "Did the bridge collapse?"

Lisa Livia threw her huge white patent leather bag on the old metal table and sat down on the swing, shoving the laptop back over to Agnes's side as she turned down the CD player. "No. What the hell is this doing out here?"

"I'm writing my column. Did you know that the Romans used to break the wedding cake over the bride's head?"

"No, but I'm not surprised. Italian men are hell on women. Pay attention here, I've been on that tub, the Brenda Belle, going through my mother's stuff."

"She's been living there ever since she sold me Two Rivers." Agnes sat next to her and poured her a glass of wine. "I don't know why she hasn't bought herself a nice condo. I am so glad to see you. You missed the meeting with her and Evie Keyes."

"That was my plan." Lisa Livia crossed her killer legs, took the wine and sipped it, nodded, and then drank a good slug of it. "I know why she hasn't bought herself a condo; she thinks she's coming back here, and she's trying to screw up my kid's wedding to do it."

"What?" Agnes said, looking at her over the wine bottle. "That's crazy. Why would she come back here? Why would she hurt Maria's wedding? That's her big social coup, that's her in!"

"Because, as I have been telling you for years, she's a fucking nutcase." Lisa Livia settled into the swing. "Ever since Maria's been down here, Brenda's been at her about Palmer, how much he's like his dad, who married pretty little Evie Beale when she was just eighteen and has spent the rest of his life drinking and screwing everything in sight."

Agnes blinked at her. "Palmer is like his father? That's ridiculous, Palmer is Evie's baby, Palmer wouldn't say boo to a goose, let alone proposition one. I still don't know how he got Maria into bed." She hesitated for a minute. "Actually, I'm not sure he ..."

"Yeah, he did," Lisa Livia said. "I asked because I didn't want her marrying him because he was sweet and rich and then getting bored in the first week. She said the sex was great and I should stop making assumptions and she was very happy. Now she's not so sure, because Brenda's planted this idea that he's going to turn out like his father."

"Whywould she do that?" Agnes said, mystified.

"Because she's trying to stop the wedding. This morning when I got into town, I waited until Brenda left the yacht, and then I went aboard and starting going through her stuff to see what she was up to." Lisa Livia looked at Agnes over her wineglass, her big brown eyes huge. "She's swindling you."

"What?" Agnes frowned. "No. Not Brenda. I mean, I mean she's being difficult, but I think that's just because she's having to deal with these people who have shut her out all these years. You should have seen her face when?—"

"She holds your mortgage," Lisa Livia said. "Why didn't you go through a bank, you dumbass?"

"She gave us a better rate." Agnes put her glass down. "Taylor had our lawyer look at the papers. They're standard. I mean, they're boilerplate. It's the exact same contract that Evie gave Palmer and Maria for the house they're buying next door to the Keyes place. The only clause Brenda added was that Maria hold her wedding here, and that's not a problem, I want Maria's wedding here, plus I get three months' mortgage payments free if I do it. It's a great deal."

"I know it's standard, and I know it's the same one Evie gave Palmer." Lisa Livia rolled her eyes at Agnes's obtuseness. "The difference is, Evie loves Palmer. It's also the kind used by crooked lenders to rip off buyers all the time. You think the Real Estate King became King by playing fair and square? Brenda learned everything she knows about selling houses from him. She's taking you, Ag."

This is ridiculous. Agnes pulled back a little. "LL, the contract just says I have to let Maria get married here, it doesn't say she has to get married. I know you and your mother have your problems?—"

"She's a vicious bitch," Lisa Livia said, and finished off her wine.

"—but she's not a crook."

"She killed my father," Lisa Livia said. "Real estate fraud is a step up for her."

Here we go again, Agnes thought. "Look, you're the best friend a woman could possibly have until you get started on your mother?—"

"Okay, you think I'm crazy, but just listen to me." Lisa Livia put her glass on the table and leaned forward, her tube top shifting in ways Agnes could not possibly appreciate and yet somehow was glad that Shane was not there to witness. "You know that clause that says that if you're in default of your payments for three months, the lender gets the house back?"

"Yes," Agnes said patiently, "but that's a standard clause, and we're not in default."

"But you will be," Lisa Livia said, just as patiently. "If Maria doesn't have her wedding here, Saturday, by noon, you are in default." She picked up her bag and pulled out a paper and handed it to Agnes. "Remember this?"

Agnes looked at it. "Yes. It's the wedding agreement. We're having the wedding here in exchange for ... the first three months' mortgage payments."

Lisa Livia nodded. "Those three payments are past due if the wedding doesn't happen here."

Agnes heard Brenda say, If we held it at the country club ... "What?" Lisa Livia said, watching her face.

Agnes swallowed. "Brenda's trying to move it to the country club. She even had some insane idea about using the flowers there."

"What?" Lisa Livia said.

"And Evie wants to have it at the country club, but not use their flowers." I don't believe this. Brenda would not do this to me.

"Jesus, 1 should hope not the country club's flowers." Lisa Livia sat back. "But there you go. Anything that keeps the wedding from happening here by Saturday noon means you lose the house and Brenda gets it back and she keeps your down payment. I knew there was no way she'd let this house go. She's been hanging on to it for twenty-five years, but she's broke, she's in debt up to her ears, big debt, Ag, and she's desperate for cash." Lisa Livia shook her head. "1 told you, she learned this crap from that shyster she married. Real Estate King, my ass. People used to come to the house and threaten to kill him."

"I don't believe she'd do this," Agnes said, looking at the paper. "It's too far-fetched. I know you and she have your differences, LL, but she was good to me. She taught me to cook, for heaven's sake. She's like a mother to me."

"She is a mother to me," Lisa Livia said. "And I'm telling you, she's doing it."

"Lisa Livia, I have real problems." Agnes poured herself another glass of wine. "A kid died in my basement last night after trying to kidnap my dog at gunpoint, and now I've got this wedding?—"

"Died?As in dead? And you're still here?" Lisa Livia's face changed, and she straightened. "Wait a minute. Brenda sent him."

"Oh, for the love of God, LL," Agnes snapped. "Your mother is not responsible for everything."

"She's trying to scare you out so you can't do the wedding so you'll have to forfeit and she'll get the house back. I betcha. Don't you leave this house." She drank more wine.

"I'm not."

"You're not staying here alone, are you? Get that worthless Taylor out here."

Agnes shook her head. "Joey got his nephew to come stay. Shane." Lisa Livia choked on her wine. "Shane?" she said, wiping her mouth. "Little Shane?"

Agnes thought of the guy filling up her kitchen that morning. "He's grown."

"This I have to see," Lisa Livia said. "But I am not kidding about my mother."

"You are overreacting," Agnes said, and when Lisa Livia glared at her, she glared right back.

"There you are!" Brenda called through the screens as she came up the walk, Evie following with Maria behind her, looking cautious. "Evie and I had lunch and talked over things, and then we called Maria and came back out to see you all for a moment." She came up the steps and caught sight of Lisa Livia. "And there you are, honey," she said, smiling. "I was wondering when you'd get here." She bent to kiss Lisa Livia on the cheek, but LL stiffened away so that it turned into an air kiss. When Brenda straightened, her smile was still in place, but it was tight and fixed.

Ouch, Agnes thought. Would it kill you to let her kiss you, LL?

"So, Ma," Lisa Livia said. "How's the country club? Tell you what, I'll create a disturbance, and you grab the flowers."

"Hello, Lisa Livia," Evie said, with no warmth. "Welcome home."

"Thank you, Mrs. Keyes," Lisa Livia said. "Always a pleasure to be here."

Brenda smiled at Maria. "We brought Maria because we wanted to talk about the wedding. About her theme."

"Theme?" Lisa Livia said dangerously. "What theme?"

"We feel strongly," Evie said to Lisa Livia, "that a flamingo theme, while adventurous and young and ... uh, funky, might be something Palmer and, of course, Maria might regret in years to come when they look back at their wedding pictures."

"A flamingo theme?" Lisa Livia said, looking staggered.

"Forgot to mention that," Agnes said to her. "There was a lot to catch you up on."

Evie nodded. "And that, in fact, this entire wedding has gotten out of hand. So Brenda and I have decided that something more classic?—"

"At the country club," Brenda said, patting Maria's arm.

"—would be more appropriate," Evie said. "Wait a minute," Agnes said, rising from her chair as fast as her temper.

"And since I am not without influence in the community and over my son," Evie was saying, intent clear in her voice, "I am in a position to insist. I'm sorry, Maria, but there will be no flamingo theme, and the wedding will be at the country club."

The hell it will.Agnes opened her mouth, but Lisa Livia got there first.

"My daughter wants a flamingo theme here," Lisa Livia said quietly. "And I believe it's her wedding."

"Ma," Maria said, warning in her voice.

Agnes shook her head slightly at Lisa Livia. Fight for the location not the theme. The theme's a joke. "So we'll compromise," she began, and Maria nodded, but Evie overrode them.

"Maria is very young," Evie said, smiling at Lisa Livia with the kind of smile that came on crocodiles. "She needs guidance. No flamingos."

Maria opened her mouth, looking eager to agree, but Lisa Livia missed it, crossing her arms under her red tube top. "Guidance, you say," LL said softly.

"We need to talk about this,"Agnes whispered to Lisa Livia, trying to signal her off.

"Oh, no, it's decided," Brenda said, happily. "And really, darlings?—"

"The hell it's decided," Agnes snapped at her, and Brenda blinked at her, shocked.

"Maria wants flamingos." Lisa Livia smiled at Evie, the Fortunato smile that had launched a thousand cement overshoes.

Maria evidently saw the same thing, because she said, "No, Ma, it's okay, I—" just as Agnes said, "LL, you?—"

Lisa Livia jerked her head up toward the second floor of the house. "You know that second window from the right up there?" she said to Evie in a conversational tone that fooled no one. "That was my bedroom window when I was a kid. I got stuck up there a lot when Ma had her parties. You wouldn't believe what I saw." She tilted her head, looking Evie right in the eye. "Like Simon Xavier feeling you up underneath our big oak tree. And that wasn't all. ..."

Brenda said, "Lisa Livia!" Evie stiffened, and Agnes sat down and poured herself another glass of wine.

"I'm trying to remember if you were married then or not," Lisa Livia was saying to Evie, sounding genuinely puzzled. "I'd have to ask around. You know. For guidance. To get my dates straight."

"Wine?" Agnes said to Maria, who nodded and sat down next to her, equally resigned, picking up her mother's wineglass.

Evie pressed her lips together so tight, they made a white line in her face.

"It's not the kind of thing I'd ever do," Lisa Livia went on. "I mean, ever do, talk like that, I mean, unless somebody, you know, tried to fuck my daughter over on something she wanted, because in that case, if that happened, I would pour lye over every single fuckin' inch of this town. You think Sherman did some damage on his march through here? I'd make him look like fucking Merry Maids, what I'd do to you and everybody in this godforsaken hole if you or anybody else fucks with my kid, or her happiness, so if she says she wants fuckin' flamingos, she gets fuckin' flamingos right here at Two Rivers. The wedding will not be at the country club, it will be here and it will have flamingos and anything else my kid wants, do you understand?"

Agnes drank some more wine and so did Maria. She was pretty sure Evie understood. The First Lady of Keyes might not be Caesar's wife, but she was Jefferson Keyes's wife, and Jefferson Keyes's wife did not get felt up under an oak tree by a cop or, God forbid, laid, not even twenty-five years ago.

A quiet fell over the group.

Then Evie stood up. "Very well." She nodded to Maria. "I think this is a terrible mistake, but your mother is correct, it is your wedding. You may have your flamingos here at Two Rivers."

"Now wait a minute," Brenda said, but Evie turned and walked down the steps and around the corner of the house to her Lexus, her dignity unspoiled even if her reputation had a dent in it.

Brenda turned to Lisa Livia. "Well, that was certainly a disgusting display worthy of your father's family."

"Shut up,Ma," Lisa Livia said, her hands on her hips. "Like you weren't born in the Bronx, and the Fortunatos weren't a big step up for you. Now you listen to me. You try to move this wedding away from Two Rivers again, I'm gonna clean every skeleton out of every closet you got and make them dance, you hear me? I'll dig up everything you ever buried, including my daddy, and then I'll sink that beat-up rowboat you're living on so you'll be out in the street with nothing. Do not fuck with my kid and do not fuck with my friend, they are all the family I got, and they are off-limits to you. Understand?"

Brenda drew back as if she'd been slapped, and then she glared at LL, and for a moment they were mirror images, two curly-haired mini-furies, one blonde and one dark, little but lethal. Then Brenda said, "I'm not going to listen to that kind of talk from my daughter," and turned to Agnes. "I'd like to speak with you before I go," she said coldly, and went into the house.

"I thought she'd never leave." Lisa Livia turned to Maria, who was sitting on the porch swing beside Agnes, her arms crossed in mirror image of her mother, the third fury in the triumvirate, although she looked more exasperated than enraged. "You got your flamingos, baby," Lisa Livia said, her voice doting.

"I don't want flamingos, Ma," Maria said. "I was just trying to make them crazy so they'd give me the wedding I really do want. I'd have talked them back to Two Rivers with the butterflies and the daisies and everything I wanted, but now thanks to you, I got flamingos."

Lisa Livia stared at her daughter for a long moment, and then she said, "I hope someday you have a daughter, and when you do, I hope she breaks your heart the way you just broke mine."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Maria said, and went into the kitchen.