“Excuse me?” She hadn’t quite heard him.

  “I promise I’ll talk to you tomorrow. But right now I’ve got to be alone.” He stared at her a moment longer, then turned and carried the bottie into the main hall, shutting the door behind him.

  When Sophie finally returned to the cab, she found the driver leaning against the front fender, smoking a cigarette.

  “Did you find him?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Let’s go.”

  He took one last puff, then dropped the cigarette on the ground and crushed it with the heel of his boot.

  Sophie climbed into the rear seat and tipped her head back, closing her eyes. If Nathan wouldn’t talk to her, it seemed unlikely that anyone else in the Buckridge family would either. Something terrible had happened in Constance’s suite. She’d never seen Nathan so upset.

  Remembering the manila envelope, she opened it and drew out its contents. As the driver pulled back onto the highway, she glanced at the heading on the first page: INTERVIEW: laurie lippert, elk river, minnesota, thursday may 13. That was today. Maybe this would shed some light on the current Buckridge family chaos. She settled back in the seat and began to read.

  Journal Note

  INTERVIEW: LAURIE LIPPERT, ELK RIVER, MINNESOTA THURSDAY, MAY 13

  M: Thanks for allowing me to come to your home.

  Lippert: Believe me, it’s my pleasure. I’ve been wondering if anyone would ever show up to ask me about Connie Buckridge.

  M: Let’s start at the beginning. You began working for the Buckridges when?

  Lippert: In the summer of ‘72. I’d just graduated from high school and needed a summer job. After a few weeks, I realized that I really liked housekeeping. It made sense to me. I’d had an office job between my junior and senior years and I hated it. I’d come in and sit down at my desk in the morning, shuffle some papers around, do a little typing, talk on the phone, and then it would be five and I’d leave. I mean, what’s all that about? Boring as hell, too. But cleaning a house felt like I was accomplishing something concrete. I could live at home, save m> money, and I didn’t have to punch a time clock. I could wear whatever clothes I felt like wearing that day, and if I was ten minutes late or had a doctor s appointment, nobody made a big deal out of it. Connie wasn’t much of a stickler for rules. I liked that. As long as I got the job done, and done well, she was happy. Really, the only thing she insisted on was that I was out of the house by dinnertime. Otherwise, I could pretty much come and go as I pleased.

  M: Just out of curiosity, what time was dinner?

  Lippert: I normally tried to leave by five. Sometimes it got to be a little later. But six-thirty was the cut-off. Evenings were family time. Connie didn’t want any staff around, not even the part-time cook

  M: You never stayed past six-thirty?

  Lippert: Oh, well, if there was something coming up, like a dinner party that weekend, I’d occasionally have to work late.

  M: How often did Constance give dinner parties?

  Lippert: A few times a month. And then spring and fall cleaning was another heavy work period. But I got paid a bonus at the end of it, so it was never a problem.

  M: What did you think ofthe Buckridges?

  Lippert: I really thought Nathan was handsome and fun. He was always nice to me. He had a girlfriend, so I knew I didn’t have a chance with him, but we still talked a lot. He liked to talk and so did I. Sometimes hed sit in the room I was cleaning. Or if I was outside shaking rugs, he d help me.

  M: What about the others?

  Lippert: Will I be quoted?

  M: Not without your permission. As I told you on the phone, if I decide to use any of this interview in my book, I’ll need to get your authorization. But I’m hoping that everything you tell me today will be on the record. Otherwise, it won’t be of much use.

  Lippert: (Hesitates) Okay, I get it. I’ll go on record, what the hell. Paul was a self-consumed jerk. And extremely sloppy. Connie picked up after him. I picked up after him. Even Emily picked up after him every now and then, and she was no paragon of neatness herself. He pretty much ignored me, thought I was the “hired help “ and usually treated me like I was too stupid to understand basic English. It bothered me a little, but then people like him are dinosaurs in my book By the time I’d quit working at the Buckridge home, I’d made big plans for my future. I was going to have my own housecleaning business, with lots of employees. And I was going to make a ton of money. I haven’t made a ton yet, but I ‘m doing pretty well for someone with a limited IQ.

  M: Yes, Paul sounds like a real winner. But what about the others in the family?

  Lippert: Emily was nice enough. She was pretty social, so she wasn’t around much. Connie was a great boss. If she didn’t like the way I did something, she’d tell me straight out. She didn’t make me feel like a naughty child either. Some women are awful that way. They hint. They never actually come out and say what they want, so you ‘re never sure you ‘re doing it right. And then they have the nerve to treat you like a “bad girl “for not being able to read their minds. It s ridiculous.

  M: What about Wayne and Arthur?

  Lippert: Wayne was pretty quiet. He wasn’t around much during the day, so I never really talked to him. He was always pleasant, but then … I don’t know… he seemed sort of distracted. I think he really loved Connie and felt bad that he was in such terrible shape physically. There were always lots ofpastries and cookies around the house, and I guess that’s what he ate. I know Connie was worried about his health. Nathan told me he had a heart problem. Oh, and then Arthur. (Pauses; face turns serious) I can’t leave him out. We had morning coffee together occasionally. I liked him, I guess. It s hard to remember now. He was very thin when he first arrived. Nathan told me he was some sort of CIA operative in Saigon. He’d been captured by the Vietcong and tortured. I thought it was all very tragic and heroic. He never would talk about it, so I finally stopped asking him questions. He was interested in philosophy and psychology, so we’d discuss that sometimes. I guess… I thought he was a little odd. I figured everyone else thought so, too, but nobody ever commented on it.

  M: Odd in what way?

  Lippert: I don’t know. I could never put my finger on it. He just didn’t react normally sometimes. And he was on a lot of different medications. I saw them when I cleaned his room.

  M: Do you remember the names of the medications?

  Lippert: (Shakes her head) Sorry.

  M: Where was his room in relation to the rest of the house?

  Lippert: All the bedrooms were on the second floor. Connie had her office on the first, off the living room, and next to it was the den. That’s where Arthur stayed. I got the impression that Connie wanted to keep an eye on him during the day. He slept a lot, particularly at first. As he got stronger, he started going out, like to the library or to a movie.

  M: Did Connie ever go with him?

  Lippert: If she had time. She was pretty busy with her TV show. I think most days he was on his own.

  M: I understand that you were working at the house on the day Wayne Buckridge died.

  Lippert: That’s right. (Grows excited)

  M: What time did you leave that day?

  Lippert: Everything had gone wrong that afternoon. I don’t remember all the details now, but I was supposed to have the good silverware polished and put away before I left. I didn’t get started on it until almost five. I worked quietly in the kitchen until I heard Wayne drive up. He usually parked in the driveway and then he’d come into the house through the kitchen door.

  M: What time was that?

  Lippert: Around six. I remember because he was home early and it was unusual. Normally, he never got home until after seven. He said he was feeling awful — very tired — and was going up to his room to bed.

  M: Was that unusual?

  Lippert: Well, he complained of being tired a lot. But he always worked a full day.

  M: Who else was home that night?

  Lippert: Connie and Arthur. The kids were all away. Nathan was out of town, I think And Paul was at one of his high school football games. Emily was probably at a friend’s. I don’t remember exactly.

  M: What happened next?

  Lippert: (Hesitates) Look Ms. Damontraville, I was there, so I know what I’m talking about, okay? I’m not trying to hurt anyone.

  M: No, of course not.

  Lippert: I assume you ve already heard Connie s story about what happened that night.

  M: I’ve been told that when Wayne felt the heart attack coming on, he must have called out for her, but he was upstairs in their bedroom and she was downstairs in her office. She said she had music playing so she didn’t hear him shout. She didn’t even know he’d come home.

  Lippert: None of that is true. (Hesitates again) When the police and the paramedics came, Id already gone, so they never heard anything but what Connie told them. I’m positive she didn’t know I was in the kitchen. I ‘m sure she assumed I’d already left. So, to this day, she has no idea that someone else witnessed what happened. At the time, I just didn’t want to get involved, especially since Connie was such a well-known person in town. I also didn’t want to be part of a scandal. Besides, I was a kid, twenty years old. I wasn’t sure people would believe me.

  M: Just tell me what happened. Take your time. I want this to be as accurate as possible.

  Lippert: Oh, it’ll be accurate. I’ll never forget that night. (Clears her throat) Like I said, Wayne came home a little after six. The kitchen was in the back of the house. You had to go through the pantry into the dining room to get anywhere else. That s what Wayne did. First he grabbed himself a beer, then he loosened his tie and set his coat and briefcase on the kitchen table. I assumed he wanted to go say hi to Connie before he headed upstairs. I was done with polishing the silverware by then, so as I finished putting it away, I heard thefirst scream. I raced into the pantry and hid behind the door, opening it just a crack so that I could see out. There was another scream and a few moments later Wayne staggered into the hall between the dining mom and the living mom. His face was bright red, and the look of total revulsion on his face was one I’ll never forget, not until the day I die. He just kept repeating, “Oh, my God. Oh, my God! “ After a few seconds, he rushed back into the living mom. I screwed up my courage and followed. I knew he wasn’t well, and I was afraid his heart would give out from all the excitement. As I crept partway amund the living mom arch, I saw him standing in the doorway of Arthur’s bedroom about fifteen feet away. He said something like “This is disgusting! He’s your bmther, for God s sake!” As he backed up, I saw that Connie was in Arthur’s bed. She was naked, covered partially by a sheet. Arthur was naked, too, standing next to the bed, looking almost as white as the sheet covering Connie. It was horrible. Revolting. Wayne kept shaking his head. Then he said some thing like “How could you do this, Arthur? I took you in. Gave you a place to live. She’s your awn sister, for chrissake!” Arthur just stared at him. He tried to explain. Said something like “You’U never understand us.” His voice was extremely cold. He and Wayne argued some more. By this time, Wayne was positivelyfurious. He threw a vase at Arthur, but Arthur ducked at the last moment and it smashed into the wall behind him. Connie shouted for Wayne to stop. She said something like, “Can’t you understand? We’ve been apart so long. It just happened.” That s when Wayne said, “I want you out of here, both of you. Now!” Connie got up out of bed. The sheet fell to the floor. God, I was so embarrassed I could have died, but I couldn’t leave. I had to know what was going to happen. Wayne and Connie stared at each other. Finally Connie said she refused to leave. It was her house, too. She’d bought and paid for it every time she’d let Wayne put his hands on her. Wayne was really shocked by that. He said, “But you love me.”

  “I never loved you,” she said. How could she love a man like him? That’s when Wayne sort of stumbled backward against the couch. He looked dazed, like he didn’t know what to do next. Eventually, he just walked out of the room and went upstairs. Connie and Arthur stood there like statues. They didn’t even look human. Neither moved. I couldn’t move either. It was like we were all waiting for something to happen. Finally it did. From upstairs, Wayne shouted, “Connie, my medicine! Help me.” Connie looked at Arthur. I think she was about to go when he put his hand on her arm He ordered her to stay put. I knew there was a good chance Wayne would die if he didn’t get his meds, but I was afraid for my own life if I let those two weirdos know I was still in the house and that I’d seen and heard everything. So I stood very still. Wayne called again. Connie and Arthur sat down on the bed. Wayne called one last time. I heard this muted thump and then everything was quiet. Connie started to cry. Arthur put his arm around her, but he never tried to console her. I think she said something like “He’s dead.” And then Arthur said, “I hope so.”

  M: What happened next?

  Lippert: I don’t know. I tiptoed back to the kitchen, shut offall the lights, and left by the back door. Instead of walking around the side of the house, crossing the driveway, and leaving through the front yard, I climbed over the fence into the next yard and left through their front yard. I didn’t want Connie or Arthur to see me.

  M: And you ‘re positive they never realized you saw and heard all this?

  Lippert: Connie would have said something to me if she’d known. She would have acted differently. When I came back the next day, it was like none of it had happened. She’d made up this story about how Wayne died and everyone believed her. I worked for her another month, then said I had to quit. That last month was agony. I cleaned the house for the get-together after the funeral. I saw how devastated the kids were, and I knew that Connie and Arthur had to lie constantly to keep the truth a secret. It was more than I could take. I never wanted to see anyone in thatfamily again. Everything I ve told you is the God’s honest truth, Ms. Damontraville. I’d swear to it on a stack of Bibles.

  M: That’s not necessary, Laurie. I believe you. You’ve been a huge help. Please, just one word of caution. Don’t tell anyone about this interview. Researching a book is a very sensitive time for both me and those I talk to. I’d like you to keep this under your hat until the book comes out. If anyone in the Buckridge family contacts you —

  Lippert: Will they?

  M: I doubt it, but you never know. The best thing to do is to just refuse to talk to them. Make that clear and unequivocal.

  Lippert: If I have to, I’d lie. I really want to see the truth finally get told, especially after keeping it inside me all these years. But I don’t want to deal with Connie Buckridge. I’m still a little afraid of her.

  M: I understand. Again, many thanks.

  End of E-mail to Pluto

  A few personal commentsfor myjournal.

  It was awful — truly horrible — spending even one night without my laptop and my journal. I drank enough brandy to put myself into a coma, but the gash on my ear still hurt, pretty much all night. Normally, if I can’t sleep, I get up and work. All I had to help me while away the hours was the TV and my wounded pride. This morning, however, at least the cut felt better. I changed the bandage before Bram arrived. I didn’t want to have him fuss over it — or me. After last night, I didn’t want him that close ever again. All a woman can do is try, I guess, and that s what I did. I think he’s making a big mistake. I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find that Sophie and Nathan are having an affair — or will be in the near future. But he’ll have to deal with that on his own. Once someone says no, I’m gone.

  One more comment. I know that Bram may be upset when he finds that I’ve left the Ardmore Suites, but I can’t chance remaining in St. Paul any longer. When I first arrived in Minnesota, I wanted to stay at the Maxfield so that I could watch the Buckridges up close. But now that my cover is blown, and my life has been threatened, I have to get away. Perhaps I should have left sooner, but the fact that I’d hired a bodyguard lulled me into a false sense of safety. If I’d had any real idea of how dangerous Constance Buckridge would turn out to be, I would have done many things differently. But hindsight doesn’t help me now, or more important, it doesn’t help Rafferty. I feel terrible — and partially responsible — for what happened, and I intend to see that whoever planted that car bomb pays a price I may stay in Elk River tonight or find something in Minneapolis. Bram helped me when I needed him most, and I’ll be forever grateful. But for now I have to disappear, and that means from him as well. I left him a note. When he comes by the Ardmore later tonight to check on me, he’ll receive it. I hope he isn’t too angry. Why should I care, right? I shouldn’t, damn it all, but I do. Lucky me. Thirty-seven years old and carrying a torch for a married man who happens to love his wife. Pathetic.

  24

  Sophie tossed and turned all night. For some reason, Bram was sleeping almost as badly as she was. He’d been in a foul mood ever since he’d walked in the door, late for their dinner date with two old friends from Sophie’s days at Squires Magazine. He didn’t seem to be directing his ill humor at her, so she figured it was probably a work-related problem and he’d talk about it when he was ready.

  Sophie had arrived home from New Fonteney shortly after six. She went straight up to Arthur and Constance’s suite to tell Arthur that she’d found Nathan and he was okay. After reading the interview with Laurie Lippert, she finally understood what had caused that highly charged family scene. It was a startling revelation, one that no doubt rocked the family to its very foundations, but she wasn’t sure she believed it.

  Perhaps this Lippert woman had a grudge against Constance or maybe she just saw the opportunity to get her name in print — in a big way. Sure, she sounded sincere. It all sounded plausible, but that didn’t mean it was the truth. Then again if it was accurate, if Constance had slept with her brother, it was just the kind of dirt Marie Damontraville was looking for. And that meant it wouldn’t be long before the story was published for all the world to see. Sophie thought it would be best, however, not to let Arthur know, at least for now, that she’d read the interview.