He gave her a sick smile. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it. And don’t get up. I’ll show myself out.”

  “You’re too kind.”

  “I know. See you in court.”

  41

  As Sophie made her way outside to her car, she noticed Ivy waving at her from the bay of the mansion’s dining room window. Sophie waved back. When Ivy pointed to the front door, continuing to wave, Sophie realized she was being summoned inside. She moved quickly around the side of the house.

  Ivy was waiting for her when she got to the front door. “Good morning,” she said, her expression troubled. “I hoped you might have a few minutes to talk.”

  “Sure,” replied Sophie, stepping into the foyer. Ivy looked positively wired this morning, her eyes jumping from one object to the next as she led the way to the kitchen. Sophie wondered if she was on something — compliments of Max.

  “Would you like a cup of tea?” asked Ivy. “I just made a pot.”

  “That sounds great.”

  “I noticed you come out of the gate house. Were you visiting Charles?” She kept her voice carefully neutral.

  “I was.” Sophie thought it was best to keep her reasons for the visit to herself. “I had to talk to him about some back issues of the magazine.”

  “Oh, right. He was the editor of Squires Magazine for a while.”

  As Sophie got comfortable at the kitchen table she noticed a German chocolate cake on the far end of one counter. She wondered if it was going to be served tonight at Max and Ivy’s dinner for Betty Malmquist. Sophie wasn’t entirely convinced the dinner was a good idea.

  Ivy finished preparing the tray with cream, sugar, cups and saucers, and a plate of cookies. Carefully lifting the teapot onto it, she approached the table, following Sophie’s gaze to the cake. “It sort of screams cholesterol at you, doesn’t it? It’s Max’s favorite. I’ve planned a German dinner tonight. I’ve had the sauerbraten marinating since yesterday afternoon.”

  “You know, I’m curious.” Sophie waited while Ivy poured.

  “About what?”

  “Why did you really invite Betty here tonight?”

  Ivy sat down, covering her discomfort with a thoughtful frown. “Mainly curiosity, I guess. I haven’t talked to her in years, not since she stopped walking her dog past the house. I was astonished to find Hale had kept up the … relationship.” She shook her head in a kind of perplexed reverie as she stirred cream into her tea.

  “But Max mentioned yesterday you were going to try to convince her to go to the police with what she found in the bottom of that sack. The rifle shells, Lasix, and bottle of arsenic.”

  Once again, her expression became uneasy. “Yes, well that, too.”

  Clearly she wasn’t comfortable with the subject. Sophie decided to try the direct approach. “What did you want to talk about?” she asked, taking a sip from her cup. The tea was good. Most probably Indian.

  “Oh. There was something, yes.” Rising from her chair, Ivy moved to the sink. She seemed to have too much nervous energy to remain seated. Keeping her back to the table, she said, “I don’t know how to begin this, Sophie, but … I’ve done something … stupid. I need to talk about it — to ask for an opinion.” She looked out the window, squeezing her eyes shut. “I can’t keep it inside any longer. I thought about going to confession at St. Jude’s this morning, but I haven’t been to church in so many years, it has no meaning for me anymore.” She hesitated, turning around. “Maybe you can give me some advice. You know everyone involved. To be honest, you’re one of the few people left I can trust.”

  Sophie was flattered. She was also amazed at her good luck. Here they were, alone in the house — no Max calling the shots. Maybe she’d finally find out what Ivy was so nervous about yesterday. “Advice?”

  “First, you have to understand” — she fidgeted with the wisps of hair that had fallen out of her bun — “I’ve been terribly unhappy in my marriage for a very long time. I’m not the kind of woman who deals well with being alone. That’s why, a little more than a year ago, I became involved with … another man.”

  “You mean Max,” said Sophie.

  Ivy looked surprised. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Sorry.” She shrugged.

  Ivy returned to the table. “I’ve never had a relationship like it before. At first it was wonderful. I was head over heels in love. But now …” She paused, her voice dropping to a more confidential tone. “How can I put this without sounding paranoid? I’m beginning to worry about… the intensity of his feelings. Max has become obsessed with me. He’s horribly jealous. He doesn’t even want me talking to Louie — and you know how long we’ve been friends.”

  Sophie had guessed it was something like that Max did seem to be heavily into control.

  “It’s difficult to admit, but I’m almost frightened of him.”

  “You think he’d hurt you?”

  “Well, no.” She said it too quickly. “Not in my more sane moments.”

  Sophie could sense her ambivalence. “You know, when we met yesterday, I had the impression he was blaming you for something.”

  Her eyes fell to her lap. “He is. You have to understand how this all started. It began as a joke. Just a silly game. Sometimes Max and I would sit around in the evenings and fantasize about what it would be like to have all of Hale’s money. Usually Max was drinking. We’d talk about what we’d buy — where we’d live. Max knows about a tiny island close to Jamaica. He talked about buying it living there together, building a house.”

  “But as a surgeon, he must do pretty well for himself.”

  She shook her head. “He’s never been able to hang on to a dime. He spends money as fast as he makes it Now that he’s approaching retirement age, his financial future is beginning to worry him.”

  Another obsession? wondered Sophie.

  “That’s when he got this idea.” Ivy leaned into the table, lowering her head. “I’m so ashamed.”

  Sophie gave her some time, knowing the conversation was a hard one. “What idea?” she asked finally.

  “Max wanted to fake several attempts on my life and frame Hale for them.” She searched Sophie’s face for signs of reproach. “I know what we did was wrong. And I don’t mean to suggest that he twisted my arm in some way. I wanted Hale out of my life as much as he did. I wanted my share of the money, too, which Hale completely controlled. My God, I’d put the man through school! Supported him for years while he was making a name for himself. I even wrote that column for him.”

  “The one in the newspaper?”

  She nodded. “And for all that, I got nothing. Nothing but a worthless MRS. in front of my name. If he’d gone to jail, I would have taken over IAI!”

  Sophie was almost speechless. “You really hated him that much?”

  “More,” said Ivy.

  “And if he died, you would control IAI forever.”

  “No!” She nearly knocked the cream pitcher off the table. “That was never part of it! As much as I hated him, I would never have done anything like that!”

  “What about Max? Perhaps he didn’t have your scruples.” Such as they were.

  With great vehemence, Ivy shook her head. “He didn’t murder Hale. I’m sure of it.”

  Even with all the histrionics, Sophie could sense her uncertainty. “He wasn’t at the party that night. Did he say where he was?”

  “At home,” answered Ivy. “Alone.”

  “You believe him?”

  She rubbed the back of her neck. “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s … impossible.”

  Sophie wasn’t so sure. “How did that box get into the sack Hale gave Betty?”

  “I put it there. Max and I were going to make one more fake attempt on my life.”

  “The arsenic?”

  She nodded. “When it was over, we would have sent an anonymous note to the police saying Hale was responsible. If they searched the house, they’d find proof.”

  Sophie couldn’t believe her ears. Were they really both that naive? “Don’t you think the police might have found that a bit too convenient?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It looks like a setup.”

  “It does?” She cocked her head. “I never — Max was sure it would work.”

  Sophie had to work hard to control the disgust in her voice. Not only were they naive, they were stupid. “How were you going to use the arsenic?”

  Ivy raised a jerky hand to her forehead. “That’s what I’m so worried about!” She jumped up again and began to pace in front of the refrigerator. “Max bought a bag of pretzels and sprinkled some of the powder over the contents. Then he stuck it in one of the kitchen cupboards. Hale hates pretzels. He would never have touched them. Since I love them, we thought it would be a perfect way to stage a poisoning. Max told me we all have tiny amounts of arsenic in our bodies. If I ate a few, it would elevate my level some, but there would be no lasting effect. But the night of the party, the bag disappeared!” She began to wring her hands. “Maybe one of the caterers used it. They weren’t supposed to, but I know they were running short of food toward the end of the evening. Maybe they searched through the cupboards. If they did — and they served them — Max said we still had nothing to worry about. A handful might give someone a bad stomachache, but that’s about it.”

  “But you’re not so sure?”

  She continued to pace. “What if the caterers took the sack with them? How can I call and demand they return a measly bag of pretzels! I can’t exactly tell them the truth. Bags of junk food rarely have sentimental value. What am I supposed to do? Accuse them of stealing? Break into their offices in the middle of the night and ransack the place?” She slumped against the counter.

  “I don’t know,” answered Sophie.

  “And how can I live with the idea that some innocent person might get hurt? Max just tells me to forget it. All he’s thinking about right now is the evidence Hale inadvertently gave Betty. He was furious when he found out that’s where I’d hidden the box. I wish he could see it from my perspective. I thought it was a perfect hiding place. How was I supposed to know Hale was saving those presents for her? He often gave gifts to business associates. He kept a stash in our bedroom closet.”

  Sophie sat back and shook her head. Ivy already had a motive for Hale’s murder. This stupid, careless scheme just made it worse. What if he’d found out and decided to turn them in? How could they stop him? And even more important, Ivy probably didn’t know Hale had changed his will, since he’d done it a mere two weeks before his death. If she was willing to put him in jail to get his money, was it a big leap to think she might kill? And wasn’t Max in the same boat? “I think you need to speak with a lawyer.”

  Ivy gasped.

  “When all this comes out, you’ll need to know what your rights are.”

  “When! Why would it come out?”

  Sophie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Ivy might be a smart woman when it came to art and the academic world, but in real life, she didn’t have a clue. “Listen to me, Ivy. You wanted my advice? Here it is. You need legal counsel. At the very least, you must admit Max could have been responsible for Hale’s murder. If that does turn out to be the case, your only protection would be to talk to the police about it now. The sooner the better. Do you have a lawyer?”

  Ivy’s eyes swept the room. “Sure — Louie. But he’s never practiced criminal law. And anyway, how can I lay this on him? His wife just died!”

  “Then find someone else. But get a legal opinion.”

  “I can’t do that,” said Ivy, her voice taking on an almost hysterical edge. “Max would —” Her eyes grew round and frightened. “I can’t.”

  “It’s up to you.”

  Ivy grabbed Sophie’s hand. “You mustn’t tell anyone about this. What I told you was in the strictest confidence. Promise me!”

  In her mind’s eye, Sophie flashed to Kate sitting in a holding cell. “I can’t do that.”

  “Why?”

  “Listen, Ivy, you’re a friend of Kate Chappeldine’s.”

  “Don’t change the subject!”

  “I’m not. The police think she may have murdered Hale.”

  “Really?” Her eyes blinked rapidly. Hopefully.

  Sophie was sickened by the response. “I don’t believe she did it.”

  “Come on! The police must have their reasons.”

  “They do. But without knowing about what you and Max were up to, they don’t have all the facts.”

  “No!” she shrieked, her voice becoming desperate. “It’s not true. And besides, what was it you said yesterday? Something about a threatening note from Ezmer Hawks? Maybe he’s responsible! I don’t see how he could know …” Her voice trailed off.

  “About Eric Hauley?”

  Her head snapped up. “What did you say?”

  “I know the whole story, Ivy. I assume you do, too.”

  She just stared.

  “You were protecting Hale all these years. Why?”

  Her expression was full of amazement. “How did you find out?”

  “Another long story.”

  She shook her head, a sneer pulling at the corners of her mouth. “You always were a snoop.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Even in kindergarten, you were into everyone else’s business.”

  “I was not!”

  “I heard your nickname in high school was ‘The Nose.’“

  “You’re making that up!”

  “Am IT”

  Sophie was livid. “Whatever you may think of me, I have a good reason for trying to get to the bottom of Hale’s murder.”

  “Your son.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You think he’s innocent.”

  “Without a doubt.”

  “Well, so was Hale. What happened to Eric was an accident. Hale came to me that same afternoon. He was beside himself with grief. The problem was, it could have ruined his life!”

  “And yours as well.”

  Ivy narrowed her eyes. “I couldn’t let that happen.”

  “I’m sure you couldn’t. But why are you still protecting him?”

  Her eyes searched the room for an answer. “I don’t know. A reflex, I suppose.”

  “After all that’s happened, you’re still concerned about his innocence. Maybe you can understand why my conscience won’t let me condemn an innocent person. I have to tell the police what I know about you and Max.”

  “No!”

  Carefully Sophie stood, backing toward the exit “I think I need to be going, Ivy. Bram is expecting me.”

  “You can’t do this!”

  “Please. You’ve got to calm down.”

  “I am calm! Perfectly calm. And lucid. Just like the night Hale told me he wanted a divorce! He had the audacity to suggest he was going to divorce me!”

  “I didn’t know.” Sophie was in the hallway now, inching toward the front foyer. “I really have to be going. Thanks for the tea.” She glanced over her shoulder and saw she was almost to the front door. All she wanted to do was get the hell out.

  “You don’t believe I’m innocent, do you?” demanded Ivy, flying at her out of the kitchen. She swooped in front of her and laid a heavy hand over the doorknob.

  “If you tell me you’re innocent, then you’re innocent.”

  “It’s Max!” she snapped. “I don’t know how to get away from him. He wants to own me, just like Hale. Why do I always pick the same kind of man? What’s wrong with me?”

  “I don’t know,” said Sophie.

  Ivy stared at her, all color draining from her face. After what felt like an eternity, she turned away, muttering, “Get out. This was a mistake.” Without another word, she rushed up the stairs. A second later, a door slammed, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the silent mansion.

  42

  “Are you sure you did the right thing by talking to Cross this afternoon?” asked Bram. He was propped up in bed, eating the last bite of a cherry Popsicle. It was nearly midnight.

  “I did what I had to do,” answered Sophie, shutting her book. “If the information about Ivy and Max can help Kate, then so be it. Detective Cross seemed more than interested. And I called Betty Malmquist as soon as I got home, too. She would have walked into a hornet’s nest if she’d gone to Ivy’s house tonight. I had to warn her away.”

  “Good thinking,” he said, dropping the Popsicle stick on a plate. He quickly unwrapped another. “And Charles, a blackmailer. To think he had it in him. Did you mention that to Cross as well?”

  “Since I have no proof, I was a bit more reticent. But he’s pretty quick. He got the message.”

  Bram waved the Popsicle back and forth in front of him, thinking. “One last question?”

  “What?” She leaned over and bit off the tip.

  “Who murdered Hale?”

  “I’m still working on that.”

  “To no avail?”

  Wearily she nodded, shutting off the light.

  “Hey! How’s a fella supposed to eat a Popsicle in the dark?”

  “You’re usually quite proficient in the dark, darling. I’m sure you’ll manage.”

  Sophie slept fitfully. Every half hour she looked at the clock on the nightstand and changed positions. She kept coming back to the murder scene. What was she missing? There were the two chairs in the front of the desk, one pulled up close. Undoubtedly Hale had had a visitor. But who? Rudy had seen a woman go into the back door of the mansion. Was it Ivy — or Kate? Neither had worn a red or pink dress. Come to think of it, the only red dress she remembered seeing was worn by Rhea Kiran. But why would she be outside? Sophie could still see the cigar in the ashtray — the tip crushed, the cigar itself broken in half. An empty glass rested next to it. Crumbs were scattered on the desktop. What had Hale and this visitor been talking about? Up until the final moments, had it been a friendly conversation?

  Sophie changed positions, rolling over on her right side. Thankfully Bram could sleep through anything.

  She thought again of the people she’d talked to during the past week. Kate and John. Ivy and Max. Louie. Charles. Even Ben. One thing she knew for sure. Someone was lying. But-why was Hale murdered that particular night? And what was the motive? Money? Revenge?