Thicker Than Water 181

“You never knew her at all,” Dar said. “And no, you can’t have her back. She was never yours to begin with.”

Kerry sniffled and peeked at Dar from under damp lashes.

“My, aren’t we possessive,” she murmured with a wan smile.

Dar looked at her.

“Nice feeling,” Kerry whispered. “Thanks.”

“Hmph.” Dar kissed her gently on the head. “C’mon. Let’s go home.”

“Wait.” Cynthia held a hand up, then walked to them.

“Please, let’s not leave in anger again.” She touched Kerry’s arm.

“I’m sorry, Kerrison. You’re right. I don’t understand what it is you want. Please believe that I was only trying to help you.”

Kerry sadly looked at her. “I know. I’m sorry I lost my temper. There’re just so many things I get so angry about when I think of them.”

Her mother glanced down at the marble floor.

“Maybe seeing Kyle brought a lot of that back. He was always the worst.”

A soft throat clearing made them glance at the now open solarium door. It was one of the butlers. “Mrs. Stuart? There’s a policeman here to see you.”

Cynthia blinked in honest astonishment. “To see me? What on earth for?”

“I don’t know, ma’am. He mentioned something about an accident,” the butler replied. “Shall I show him in here?”

Dar and Kerry exchanged looks, then looked at Cynthia. Cynthia lifted her hands in a tiny gesture of puzzlement, then nodded.

“Certainly. Please do so.”

THE OFFICER ENTERED, taking off his hat and giving Mrs.

Stuart a respectful nod. “Ma’am.”

“Come in, Officer,” Cynthia said. “This is my daughter Kerrison, and her friend Dar. What can we do for you?”

The policeman gave them both brief nods of acknowledgement, then turned back to Cynthia. “Ma’am, I’m sorry to bother you. I know this is a bad time, but we’re investigating an accident that happened near here, and we just need to ask you some questions.”

Cynthia looked properly and politely bewildered. “Me? Well, certainly. Please sit down.” She took a seat and waited for the officer to join her. Kerry and Dar took advantage of a nearby bench. “I’m sorry, but I haven’t been out of the house for quite some time. I’m not sure what I can hope to tell you.” She glanced at Dar and Kerry. “My daughter was out for a walk earlier. Per-182 Melissa Good haps it’s she with whom you wish to speak. Kerrison, did you see anything while you were out?”

Kerry shook her head. “No. Nothing except trees, snow, and a couple of buried cars.”

“No, ma’am, it’s not about something you might have seen.”

The policeman flipped open a pad and checked his information.

“Do you know a man by the name of Kyle Evans?”

It was the last thing any of them expected. “Why, yes,” Cynthia replied slowly. “He…well, at least until yesterday, he worked on my…late husband’s staff.” She fell silent. “Has something happened to him?”

“I’m afraid so, ma’am. He was driving down the highway last night and apparently passed out at the wheel. His car ran off the road and hit a tree.” The officer hesitated. “He’s dead, ma’am.”

Kerry blinked, absorbing the news with a wild mixture of emotions. She took a deep breath and released it slowly, knowing that as a human and a Christian, she should feel some sort of sor-row for the passing of another mortal.

She didn’t.

Oh, well. Kerry looked up at Dar, who had an interested, speculative look on her face. “What are you thinking?” she whispered.

“Poetic justice,” Dar answered succinctly. “And, gee…now your father will have someone to talk to down there.”

Kerry winced.

“Sorry. You asked,” Dar murmured. “I’m not going to pretend to be even slightly sorry that bastard’s dead. I only hope he didn’t ruin the tree.”

“My goodness,” Cynthia had been saying. “I can’t…I hardly know what to say.” She shook her head. “What time did the accident occur? He left here just about midnight, I believe.”

The officer nodded. “About one a.m., ma’am. Do you have any idea what he’d been doing between the time he left and then?

Only takes about a ten minute drive to get where he was.”

“I haven’t a mortal clue,” Cynthia answered, stunned. “He gathered his things and left in quite a hurry. I’m afraid he was quite upset. I had just released him and the rest of my late husband’s staff from employ.”

“Ah,” the officer grunted, writing that down. “Was he a drinker?”

“I have no idea. Certainly in social situations. I never had any reason to believe it was more frequent than that.” Cynthia looked at Kerry, a touch helplessly. “Did you think so, Kerrison?”

Kyle, A drunk? “No.” Kerry shook her head as the policeman looked at her. “I haven’t lived here for over a year, but Kyle was employed by my father for many years prior to that. I never Thicker Than Water 183

thought he drank, or in fact, did drugs or anything like that.” She paused thoughtfully. “In fact, he was a health freak.”

The officer nodded again. “That seems right, ma’am. His car had a lot of equipment in it, and gym clothes.” He closed his book.

“Well, I’m sorry to have to pass that information along to you, Mrs. Stuart. I realize it’s lousy timing.” He settled his hat back onto his head. “You confirmed when he left here, that’s all I really needed. We’ll try to backtrack now and see where he went first.”

“Officer,” Dar said, “it seems like a lot of investigating over a car accident.”

The man eyed her shrewdly. “We like to be sure, ma’am, especially when it’s a former employee of a government family.

We just want to make sure everything’s what it seems to be.” He touched the hat brim. “Mrs. Stuart, Ms. Stuart, ma’am.”

His footsteps sounded loud on the parquet floor, and the door opening and closing echoed softly in the silence that he left behind him.

“Well,” Cynthia said, “what a shock.”

“Mm,” Kerry agreed. “Yeah…Oh my God, I wonder if Brian knows?”

Cynthia gasped softly. “Oh! We should call him at once.” She got up and hurried from the room, leaving them behind without so much as another single word.

Kerry sighed and leaned against Dar. “Wow.”

“Yeah.” Dar’s voice was quiet. “You okay now?”

Kerry considered that. “Yeah. I feel better, kinda. I think I was wanting to get that out of my system for a while.” She paused. “What I said to my mother, I mean.”

“Mm.”

“Let’s go home.”

“You mean it this time?” Dar gave her an affectionate look.

“You’re not teasing me?”

“Let’s go.” Kerry stood up and offered Dar her hand. “Let’s get Mom and Dad and get the hell out of here. But we have to make one stop before the airport.”

Dar followed her out of the room, their hands still clasped.

“Where’s that?” she asked, as they walked across to the dining room.

“Dairy Queen,” Kerry replied firmly.

KERRY TOOK HER hot fudge sundae and sat down at the bench table, her eyes flicking around the interior that called up memories of high school and summer. Most people didn’t go for ice cream in winter, though there was a scattering of other people 184 Melissa Good in the store, but that was one of the nice things about living in the tropics, it was almost always summer. Always ice cream season.

Kerry dug herself up a spoonful of vanilla ice cream and put it in her mouth. “You know, it’s hard to believe.”

“What is?” Ceci was maneuvering around a banana split.

“That they sell decent ice cream here? I always thought so. We went to Carvel when we could.”

“Kyle.”

Dar had her arms folded on the table, and she was sucking a thick chocolate milkshake through a somewhat uncooperative straw. She paused in her efforts and looked across the table at Kerry. “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”

Kerry twirled a bit of hot fudge on the end of her spoon. “I really want to be horrified that someone died, and you know, I just can’t.” She glanced furtively at her in-laws. “I can’t pretend I’m not glad that happened to him.”

“Why should you?” Ceci asked.

“Why should I pretend?” Kerry poked her ice cream.

“Because it’s polite, and I was raised to be polite. It’s not nice to gloat over the fact that someone you hated is dead.”

An awkward bit of silence followed. After it had gone on a while, Dar cleared her throat and patted Kerry’s hand. “I’m glad he’s dead. And I’m glad I wasn’t raised politely, because it feels good to be glad he’s dead.”

Ceci snorted softly.

“No offense,” Dar added hastily.

“That feller done wrong by you, kumquat,” Andy pro-nounced, not looking up from his dish of completely vanilla ice cream. “Don’t you feel bad about him being dead.” He glanced up. “I sure do not.”

Kerry glanced up at him, noting the faint smile around the edges of his mouth. “Yeah, I know,” she murmured, suddenly unsure. Her eyes shifted to Dar, who blinked and studied her hands, an expression on her face that Kerry had come to know as the one that meant she’d done something she wasn’t sure Kerry was going to like.

“Andy’s right.” Ceci broke the moment. “You’ve got nothing to feel bad about, Kerry. The man was a jerk, and his jerkiness caught up to him last night. He was probably frothing at the mouth so badly it got in his eyes and made him veer off the road.

Poetic justice.”

Poetic justice. Kerry pondered that term. As far as she knew, she was the only poet at the table. Finally, all she could do was shrug, and make a mental note to talk to Dar later about that look of hers, though she suspected she knew what was behind it. Ah.