After the homicide inspector left, Barbara Haney felt light-headed and anxious. She picked up the cordless phone in the kitchen and called her house manager from the den, pulse pounding, fingers drumming as she waited for the house manager to answer. The house manager, a thirty-two year old lawyer named Gail Hawkins, ran the house here and the one in Vail, as well as their New York apartment and the island property. She was well-educated, skilled, and discreet. She worked for them with the rationalization the salary of one hundred eighty thousand dollars a year was about the same as she would earn as a lawyer right now. It was also more than they needed to pay, but Barbara’s husband, Doug, was generous that way. He had a hard start at a career himself.
Gail worked for them but it was understood that the house managing was temporary and even though she might never practice law again, she wasn’t anybody’s servant. She certainly wasn’t. She was much more than an employee. She was her husband’s lover, something she had yet to confront Doug with but was never far from her thoughts and a big contributor to the depression her daughter insisted needed pharmaceuticals. Of course, Cheryl didn’t know anything about the affair.
Barbara called Gail rather than Doug because one side effect of the guilt from the affair was Gail always took her calls and was extremely solicitous and attentive. Ironically, that over-the-top caring courteousness is what made her suspicious in the first place.
‘Gail, I haven’t spoken with Doug yet today and I thought I would check with you first. How’s he feeling?’
‘He’s better. He’s much better. I saw him this morning. He said the fever broke in the night. He wants to go ahead with the dinner. I was just working with the cook. Are you going to be here?’
‘No, things have changed; it doesn’t look like I will be.’
Yesterday Doug had a fever or said he did. It was impossible to tell any more, though he did sound sick.
‘Was he coughing this morning?’
‘Bit of hacking.’
‘Did he take anything for it?’
‘No, you know him.’
Maybe she did once, but not any more. Barbara was quiet and then said, ‘I’ll let you get back to the menu.’
‘No hurry, I’m fine.’
New York investment banker types liked to ski in January, so this is when Doug usually entertained the ones he needed. No doubt the two bankers coming to dinner tonight were both wealthy and incredibly boring. No doubt they would talk their cars and their houses. That they even got called bankers was a joke to Barbara. They were more like hustlers in expensive clothes. They worked where the money was. That was their whole secret. All their smug certainty came from that and trained as she was in finance she had learned that few of them really understood numbers.
Barbara had paused too long and Gail was a little curt asking, ‘Shall I give him a message?’
‘No, don’t worry about it. I’ll call him later. When is he due home?’
‘At six thirty. Dinner is at seven thirty.’
‘Tell him I’m out this afternoon but will call him later tonight.’
‘Should I tell him a time?’
Barbara hesitated. She wanted to leave her guessing. It was her way of making her presence felt, her scream.
‘I don’t know what time yet, but it’ll be after his dinner.’
‘We’ll miss you here tonight.’
‘Are you eating with them?’
‘No, of course not, and I didn’t mean to sound as if I was. I may be in the kitchen helping though. Doug said tonight is very important.’
They are all very important until they don’t matter any more, Barbara thought. She hung up without another word and now felt like she might faint. She didn’t know why she bothered to make the call. She couldn’t believe her marriage had come to this and sat for an hour without moving, without knowing what she should do next.
Then her thoughts returned to the homicide inspector’s questions. She scrolled through her cell directory to the name Lisa Chou and called it as she rose and walked unsteadily back down the hallway to the great room. It rang four times before he picked up.
When Larry answered she said, ‘It’s me. A San Francisco homicide inspector visited me this morning. They’re working the case again. He wanted to know if you moved the body or removed a wallet.’
‘What did you tell him?’
‘That I wasn’t watching you.’
‘Barbara, what’s wrong?’
What’s wrong, everything is wrong, she thought, you, Doug, almost everything I’ve done with my life is wrong.
‘He and his partner run the Cold Case Unit for San Francisco. He said they have new information.’
‘Good for them.’
‘They have a videotape of the killing.’
‘They what?’
‘They were sent a videotape.’
There was a very long quiet now and Larry’s voice was the low flat one that used to sometimes scare her when he asked, ‘Well, how could that be?’
‘I saw it. He brought a CD with him.’
‘When did they get it?’
‘Recently, and he wanted to surprise me with it.’
‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine.’
Larry wouldn’t ask any more than that about her. He didn’t care at all about her. He probably never had. If she said she was considering killing herself he’d insist she get help, but he wouldn’t feel anything.
‘They’ll do a little bit of investigation and then give up,’ he said. ‘It’ll go back to being a dormant file.’
‘You figure it out. It’s yours to deal with.’
‘I’ll take care of it, but there’s nothing to worry about. There never was. You built all this in your head. I’ll find out what’s going on and the homicide inspector isn’t going to get anywhere. He’s going through the motions. The bottom line is everyone has bigger problems to worry about in 2011 than a dead ex-Secret Service agent
killed in 1989.’
Barbara thought about Raveneau. She thought about his eyes. She saw the video in her head. She saw Krueger fall. She couldn’t stop the next words from coming out.
‘In all the time we were married you were never once truthful with me. You were always controlling, but you aren’t as good at it as you imagine you are. You say there’s nothing to worry about but this inspector is smarter than you. Do you know why Inspector Govich came to Canada?’
‘There was never anything you ever had to worry about. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’ve obsessed on this way too long and it’s not going to go anywhere now. The homicide inspector is just going through the motions.’
‘You already said that.’
‘I’m saying it again to make sure you hear me.’
‘Inspector Govich flew to Calgary because a witness phoned them after we went home. They couldn’t get the witness to come in. He wanted to remain anonymous but said he heard shots. He left them a message with the time of day he heard the shots. He checked his watch. Inspector Govich came to Canada because the time was very close to when we said we found the body. That was the real reason he wanted to re-interview us.’
‘What’s this current murder cop’s name?’
She reached over to the coffee table and picked up his card. ‘Benjamin Raveneau.’
‘Spell the last name.’
She did and her head was floating, Doug lying to her, Doug sleeping with that bitch who had wormed her way into their lives. Doug was happy to get her calls because it told him where she was and meant she wouldn’t bother him for several more hours. He probably got a text from Gail as soon as she hung up. And Larry had always lied to her. Nothing was real. She couldn’t believe anything, not even herself. Her whole life was false. She was just a form of property stored in the house here.
‘I could answer some of his questions,’ she said. ‘I could end that part.’
Larry was quiet for several seconds before answering, ‘It all ended quite awhile ago and it’s very troubling to hear you talk like this. Do you really want to risk the life you have?’
Yes, she thought, I want to risk it all.
‘Don’t take any more calls from the inspector and I’ll look into it. Don’t say anything to anyone until we talk again. Can you do that? I think it’s important that nothing more get said and I’ll ask for help. You don’t need to worry. How’s the skiing?’
She looked out the window at the skiers in the far distance. She pressed End and cut the call off. She had lived and slept with him. That seemed impossible now.