Rochester-harsh face, and his smile never reached his cold gray eyes.
I recognized another tennis player, chunky Edith. She kept pushing back her reddish curls as if she were hot. As always, she smiled. But her smile seemed automatic. I had the distinct feeling Edith wasn’t enjoying herself. Occasionally, she danced with a stocky, balding man, but he spent most of the evening buttonholing other men to talk earnestly. He never seemed to notice how quickly they moved away. Except for Craig, a good host. At one point, he clapped Edith’s husband on the back and asked, “How’s your golf game, Ed?”
Small, feisty Gina Abbott didn’t appear to have an escort. She was all over the party, refilling a punch bowl, urging young people to dance, holding a discarded beach towel like a matador’s cape as she recounted a story thatevoked peals of laughter. At one point, Gina shooed young Dan Forrest to the dance floor with an eager blond girl who looked up at Dan with adoring eyes despite his scarcely masked boredom.
Cameras film without prejudice. This video caught so many unguarded moments: Brooke’s proud smile as she watched her son on the dance floor, David Forrest’s down-turned mouth as he observed them both, the immobility of Patty Kay’s face as Craig whirled by with a deliriously happy Brigit—no braces here, so why didn’t her mother have a more recent picture in her purse?—Edith’s irritation as she shrugged away a stocky teenage girl tugging on her sleeve, Gina’s almost frantic pursuit of laughter.
I felt I was seeing the merest surface of many tangled relationships.
I reran it and saw more than I’d noticed the first time:
A cheerful red-haired boy kept trying to interest the blond girl who looked so adoringly at Dan, but he didn’t have any luck.
At his father’s nod, Dan was quick to bring a plate to his mother and to help gather up discarded wrapping paper from the presents.
The red-haired, freckled girl, whom Edith had shrugged away, bubbled with happiness throughout the party. The girl’s broad, freckled face was ecstatic when Brigit managed to blow out a final stubborn candle.
The blond girl who’d danced so happily with Dan was always at his elbow despite his indifference.
Near the party’s end, Gina, her shoulders drooping, stared bleakly toward the woods, then, whirling about at Brooke’s call, once again slipped into her frenetic party personality.
In the final frame, Patty Kay swept her daughter into a tight embrace.
But Brigit was looking over her mother’s shoulder into the eyes of her mother’s second husband. It wasn’t a look her mother would have liked.
And Craig’s face?
It gave no inkling that he realized his attraction for the teenager.
How could he have missed it?
The public library reflected the prosperity of Fair Haven, sprawling and beautifully maintained, lots of glass, an adjacent playground, and a small pond rimmed with benches.
I arrived early. Of course. Is there any reporter who isn’t compulsive about being on time?
This library had on-line capabilities. I checked the local media, calling up the file on Patty Kay Prentiss Pierce Matthews. Lots of entries. It was clear that Patty Kay had been a power in Fair Haven’s social and civic life. It was interesting that only rarely was her sister, Pamela Prentiss Guthrie, mentioned. In fact, I came upon Pamela’s name only when she married and when she was listed as a survivor in her grandparents’ and parents’ obituaries. Two sisters who didn’t sing the same song.
I had two stories on Patty Kay printed out. The second was pay dirt all the way. I scanned it, but it was nearing seven o’clock, so I tucked it in my purse for later study.
I watched the main entrance. I knew, of course, what Brigit looked like from the video, but I kept a sharp eye. The library was full of teenagers coming and going, some studying, some pursuing other interests. They appeared practically interchangeable, and it
Nora Roberts
Amber West
Kathleen A. Bogle
Elise Stokes
Lynne Graham
D. B. Jackson
Caroline Manzo
Leonard Goldberg
Brian Freemantle
Xavier Neal