Classic Revenge Read online

  Sam and Susan had regularly participated in the barbeques, card games, and luncheons that Millie, Edna, and Trish organized. Only a week before her death, Susan had invited all three women over for lunch. She had been her usual happy and vivacious self, a joy to be around. Yes, Susan would be missed terribly.

  "Joe saw Claire a couple of days ago," Edna said. "Evidently Sam is thinking about moving in with his sister for a while. He can't stand to be in the house where Susan died." Claire had been the Wiley's housekeeper for the last five years. Never married, she was a sweet woman who became more of a friend to the Wileys than an employee. Susan used to boast that Claire, at age sixty, was a true miracle worker around the house.

  "I know I wouldn't ever be able to use that bathroom again, regardless of how gorgeous it is." Trish shuddered. "Can you imagine bathing in the same tub where your wife accidentally electrocuted herself?"

  "I wonder if Claire will go with Sam if he decides to go to his sister's house?" Edna asked.

  Millie shrugged. "She probably will. She's like a member of the family, after all."

  Edna sighed deeply and rose from her chair. Carrying her cup to the sink, she said, "I think I'll run over and see how Sam is doing. If Joe comes by looking for me, will you tell him where I've gone? He took our car in for service this morning, and then we're meeting Stan and Lewis for lunch."

  "How are your sons, by the way? I haven't seen them in a while," Trish said.

  "I'm keeping my fingers crossed. I think Stan has a girlfriend. If those two boys don't get busy finding wives, I'll never get to be a grandmother."

  Millie chuckled. "In case you haven't noticed, your boys are in their forties. They are considered men now."

  "I don't care how old they are. They're still my boys. I just don't understand it. Both are successful in their jobs, both are very handsome, if I do say so myself, and they have never been in any trouble. What's wrong with them?"

  "Marriage isn't for everybody, you know," Trish said sardonically. "Even though you have a fairy-tale marriage, that happily-ever-after stuff doesn't work for everybody"

  Millie raised her eyebrows. "My, we're the cynical one, aren't we?"

  "I am not cynical. I'm a realist."

  "Well, then, you're a cynical realist."

  "There's no such thing."

  Edna threw her hands in the air, motioning for a time out. "You two can argue after I'm gone. I'll talk to you later."

  "Give Sam our love," Trish called out to Edna's departing back.

  Millie stayed a few minutes longer, finishing her coffee and talking about her own daughter and two grandchildren. Finally, she stood to leave. "I need to run to the grocery store. Do you need anything?"

  "No, thanks. I went yesterday."

  "Want to come over for dinner tonight? I'm fixing meatloaf, and that movie you've been wanting to see about the horse who rallied the country after the stock market crash is on "

  Trish thought for a minute. The idea certainly held appeal, and she hated cooking for just herself. "Okay, that sounds good. I would normally bring a cake, but since I'm dieting I'll bring Jell-O and fruit."

  "Yippee," Millie said apathetically. "My mouth is watering."

  Trish yawned and leaned against the opening to the living room, looking at her exercise machine. "What the heck," she muttered to herself. "Tomorrow is another day." She should start on the dessert for tonight, anyway. Grinning, she rinsed out the coffee cups and placed them in the dishwasher.

  Maybe she'd surprise Millie and bake some cupcakes. The woman was a chocoholic if there ever was one. She'd have to make sure she took them all to Millie's, though, and more important, be sure she left them all. Otherwise, she'd be tempted to eat half a dozen in one sitting. Millie, she knew, could eat them all and not gain an ounce. It just wasn't fair.

  Trish unfastened her new stretch belt. Her favorite sweatpants hung on a convenient hook on the back of the bathroom door, and they beckoned to her like a longlost friend. She was halfway down the hallway when the doorbell pealed for the second time that morning. "Now what?" she sighed and backtracked. But before she could even get to the door, the bell rang twice more.

  She flung open the door, ready to give whoever was on the other side a piece of her mind when she saw the frazzled look on Edna's face. Edna pushed through the door with a hand on her chest. Breathing heavily, she said, "Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness! You are not going to believe what happened!"

  "What?"

  "They just took Sam away!"

  "Who did?"

  "The police did!"

  Trish's eyebrows rose. "The police took Sam away? Why would they do such a thing?"

  Edna walked into the kitchen on rubbery legs and sank down at the table. She appeared ready to jump out of her skin. Her face was pale, her hazel eyes opened wide in shock. Trish silently wondered if Edna had fallen and bumped her head, but that wasn't likely because her perfectly coifed silver hair was still in place.

  Finally, Edna took a deep breath and leaned back in her chair. "I was having a cup of coffee with Sam when his doorbell rang. Claire went to answer it, and when she returned she had two policemen with her. They started all that mumbo-jumbo about his rights, and then they handcuffed him!"

  Trish leaned over and grabbed the box of tissues off the counter and pushed them toward Edna. "You've got to be kidding!"

  "I wish I were. You should have seen Sam's face," Edna sniffed.

  "Were you able to talk to him? Did he say anything?"

  "No. They rushed him into one of the patrol cars so fast I was afraid there was a sniper around or something. Then the two officers drove off with Sam in the backseat. Claire was hysterical, so I stayed with her until she calmed down. I came here as soon as I could"

  "I still can't believe Sam could be in any trouble, not with the law! Did you find out what the police are after him for?"

  Edna nodded and the tears spilled over. "They say it's for murder."

  Trish's heart stopped beating for a moment. "Murder? Are they crazy? Who in their right mind would think Sam was capable of murder?" Her mind couldn't comprehend this. There had to be some mistake. Then it occurred to her. "The police think Sam killed Susan, don't they?"

  Edna nodded, the tears running down her face.

  Trish drummed her fingernails on the table. Her mind was spinning helplessly as she tried to make some sense of what was going on. Finally, she said, "Okay, let's go talk to Claire. Maybe she knows if Sam has an attorney. First, we need to get him out of jail. I'm not sure the man can stand much more stress"

  Edna drew a shaky breath and stood. "You're right. We need to take action. Crying isn't going to help anybody"

  Trish put her arm around Edna's shoulders. "You cry all you want, sweetie. Get the shock out of your systembecause when Sam does get out we're going to have to be strong and supportive."

  Edna sniffed and nodded. "You're right, of course. We know Sam isn't guilty. We can't let him know how horrified we are that he's been charged with this. He'll think we may have our doubts. We need to show him, above all else, that we are there for him, that we believe in him." Edna's voice had gained strength and her hand was clenched in a fist where it rested on the table. Sam needn't worry about Edna's loyalty, that was a fact. The little lady looked like she was ready to punch somebody out just for suggesting he could do anything wrong.

  Trish reached over and squeezed Edna's hand. "Let's go see Claire."

  Sam's house was three doors down. It was hard to believe that the beautiful old home with the meticulous landscaping and the cheerful red door Susan Wiley had painted herself held so much recent tragedy.

  They were almost at the house when they heard tires screeching. Both of them looked over their shoulders. It was Millie, turning onto their street. "Boy, I wish they would take her driver's license away," Trish said. "She's more dangerous than a carload of teenagers on cell phones"

  "I know what you mean. She scares me to death" They watched as Millie pulled
into her driveway and slammed on the brakes. It took a few seconds for the big car to stop rocking.

  "You go fill in Millie on what's happened, and I'll go talk to Claire. You two can meet me over there"

  Edna nodded and hurried back down the street while Trish walked up the sidewalk to Sam's house. She rang the doorbell and waited, then realized that she was still wearing her bright blue spandex exercise outfit. Hopefully none of the neighbors were watching, she thought self-consciously as she quickly glanced around. Down the street, Millie was scooting off the three cushions she used to help her see over the hood of her car just as Edna reached the driver's door. She didn't see Millie's reaction to the news because at that moment the front door of Sam's house opened.

  Trish took one look at the face of the housekeeper and stepped inside to envelop her in a hug. "Oh, Claire, I'm so sorry" Claire's swollen eyes were red-rimmed, her lips trembling on her ashen face. Hopelessness seemed to shroud her as she clung tightly to Trish, her shoulders shaking. "Shh, shh, everything is going to be okay," Trish said soothingly, hoping she spoke the truth.

  Claire stepped back. "Nothing will ever be okay again."

  The sadness in Claire's voice broke Trish's heart. "Of course it will. You have to have faith, Claire."

  Claire smiled slightly and ran her fingers through her short, thick hair. "I appreciate your coming over. I was just getting ready to make some coffee. Would you care to join me?"

  "Coffee would be nice," she said, following Claire into the kitchen. The house was dark and quiet as if it, too, were in mourning. Sadness and worry permeated the air, seeping through the sand-colored walls and rich hardwood flooring. The kitchen, as usual, was spotless. She sat at the oval table while Claire started the coffeemaker and pulled cups down from the cabinet.

  Trish had always adored this kitchen, coming over often during the remodeling that Susan had supervised from beginning to finish. The open spaciousness Susan had wanted to convey, while projecting a warm, comfortable atmosphere, was successfully achieved with a tasteful mixture of old-fashioned knickknacks and stateof-the-art appliances. The ceramic bread box sitting on the dark green granite countertop had been a gift from Trish last Christmas. She smiled sadly as she remembered Susan's joy when she'd opened it.

  There was a knock at the front door just as Claire prepared to sit down. Noticing the startled look on the other woman's face, Trish hurriedly explained, "That's probably Millie and Edna. I told them I would be over here." Poor woman, Trish thought to herself as Claire went to the door. She has been through so much lately that she's afraid of even going to the door, afraid of the news the person on the other side is there to relate.

  As Trish predicted, Millie and Edna followed Claire into the kitchen. Millie's arm was wrapped protectively across Claire's shoulders as she led her to the table. Edna reached into the cabinet and pulled out two more coffee cups. They were all going to be bouncing off the walls with as much caffeine as they had consumed today-either that, or they should seriously consider purchasing stock in coffee beans.

  Trish waited until they were all seated at the table. "Claire, do you know if Sam has an attorney?"

  Claire shook her head. "I don't know. I wasn't involved in any of their personal business. I guess he must have, you know, to settle the issues regarding Susan's death and her will, but I never met an attorney or heard Sam mention one."

  "That won't be a problem. As soon as I get home, I'll talk to Joe. He'll know who to call," Edna piped in.

  "Yes, that's good," Millie said. "If Sam happens to call you, Claire, tell him we're working on busting him out of there. You tell him we are firmly behind him."

  "Do you have any idea why the police would think Sam was involved in Susan's death?" Trish hated to ask the question but there was no point avoiding it.

  "I have none whatsoever," Claire said vehemently, her earlier despair temporarily forgotten as she quickly defended the man who was her friend and employer. "This is absolutely ridiculous! The poor man is grieving for his wife, but then he's accused of her murder! You want my opinion? I think the police are bored with so little crime in our community that they're just looking for something to do"

  "Oh, Claire, surely you don't believe that?" Edna said, clearly shocked at Claire's remarks. Trish wasn't about to criticize Claire. She had her own problems with the local police department.

  "Why not? When I got home that day and found Susan, I immediately called nine-one-one, and then I had Sam paged at the golf course. The police got here first, and then the ambulance. They told me to stay downstairs while they went up to check on things. They wouldn't even let Sam go upstairs when he got home. Even after the ambulance carried Susan away, the police were still upstairs. They finally came down and asked both Sam and me where we were when the accident happened. They were so nice that I just figured it was part of the normal procedure, but now I wonder if they planted something to make Sam look guilty!"

  Whoa! Trish might believe the Grand River Police Department was apathetic on domestic issues, but never would she think they were dishonest. Claire was obviously distraught, her reasoning powers off-kilter. They had better make sure that remarks questioning the police's integrity never left this kitchen.

  Trish glanced at Millie, who was biting her lower lip, and at Edna, who appeared astounded at Claire's outburst. Good-she wasn't the only one who felt Claire was out of line. "Look, Claire," she said softly, "you need some rest. This has been a horrible, stressful situation all the way around. You're not going to do anybody any good if you fall apart"

  "Look at it this way," Millie said. "If they don't really have anything on Sam, the charges will be dropped pronto-quicko." Millie had a habit of using quirky terms, but pronto-quicko ?

  "But the damage will be done. This isn't something Sam will be able to forget-arrested for his wife's murder, and only a week after her funeral! I feel so guilty."

  "You? Why in the world would you feel guilty?" Trish asked.

  "I wasn't here when Susan died." Claire's voice broke. "Oh, I know I couldn't have prevented what happened, but I hate the idea of her being here alone. I should have been here"

  "Claire," Trish said, leaning over to squeeze her arm, you couldn't have known while you were grocery shopping that something like this would happen. Goodness, look at how many times you've done the same exact thing. You've never had any reason to believe that Susan shouldn't be left alone, have you?"

  "Of course not. It's just that if I didn't have that stupid car trouble, at least I would have been here when it happened. She wouldn't have died here alone in this house"

  "I hadn't heard about the car trouble," Millie said, "but I can surely sympathize. There's something wrong with my brake system. It never happens at a good time. You can't blame yourself for that" Edna and Trish exchanged an amazed glance. For Millie, car trouble meant replacing brake pads, which she had to do much more frequently than most people, probably due to the fact that she waited until the last minute to apply the brakes, slamming her foot down hard on the brake pedal. She must have missed the class that taught a driver how to start slowing down before it was necessary to stop.

  "If it had been the brakes, I could have made it home. Some kind of wire came off. The engine wouldn't even turn over."

  "How did you get home?" Edna asked.

  "This nice man was coming out of the grocery store, and he saw that I was having trouble. When he looked under the hood, he knew immediately what was wrong, but he said he couldn't understand how the coil wire had come off and simply disappeared. Anyway, he went over to that auto-parts place in the strip center across the street and got another one. I paid him for it, of course. He put it on, and the car ran perfect. If I hadn't have been delayed, I believe I would have been here when the accident happened" The tears Claire had been trying so hard to rein in slipped slowly down her face again.

  Edna got up to wrap her arms around her. "It's okay, Claire. Everything is going to be just fine."

  Trish
wished she could be as certain. Not that she believed for one minute that Sam was guilty, but the cops had to have something to have arrested him. She wondered what it could be.

  It was decided that Claire would go home with Millie that evening and spend the night. Even though Millie extended her previous invitation to Trish concerning dinner and a movie, Trish declined. She was exhausted from all the different emotions that had wreaked havoc on her system today. An evening alone sounded like heaven. All they could do now was wait until Sam came home to see how they could help him. This ordeal would probably warrant more than a few cooked meals.

  Later that afternoon, Trish sat at her kitchen table waiting for Edna. The poor woman had sounded so tired when she'd called to say she was coming over. Trish made iced tea and set out a plate of chocolate chip cookies, the ones she had set aside for a special occasion. She could start her diet tomorrow.

  Nervously, she strummed her fingers on the table and wondered if Edna had found out anything. She still couldn't comprehend the whole thing. Sam had been arrested for murder? The very idea was so preposterous it would almost be funny, except for the fact that Sam had been carried away in a patrol car. That was not a laughing matter.

  Trish heard the front door open. "It's me," Edna called out. Nobody locked their doors until they went to bed at night in this neighborhood. Trish couldn't help wondering if that would change now that a "murder" had occurred.

  "Well, Sam might get out late this evening or early tomorrow morning," Edna said, pouring herself a glass of tea before she flopped down at the table.

  "That's great news ! What happened?"

  "Joe didn't know a criminal attorney, but he called our attorney and got a recommendation-George Mueller. He's supposed to be one of the best" Edna took a long drink and sat back in her chair. For the first time Trish could ever remember, Edna's perfectly groomed appearance was slightly askew. A lock of silver hair fell over her forehead and her sweatshirt was wrinkled and slightly smudged.