The Weekend Visitor Read online

  Whatever Mary's "pleasure" in helping to rear the child, it did not seem to include financial donation or baby-sitting chores. And Maureen's contribution to this entire situation would seem to end with giving birth. Thirty-six thousand a year for twenty-one years. Plus twenty thousand for your piggy bank. Not bad if you could get it!

  John cleared his throat and looked a little dazed. "Well, all right," he said heartily. "That's very straightforward and, I believe, complete. Let's get some coffee in here and see if we can't get all this down in order to present to Jack Sanhope and perforce, I imagine, his grandmother." He picked up the phone, pushed a button and asked for coffee.

  John and Trish compared notes and spoke softly to each other, while Mary, Maureen, Fargo and I looked at each other across the table. Finally, I couldn't resist.

  "Hey, Mary, how do you know the Sanhopes are allergic to the courts?"

  "Oh .. . my .. . mother .. . she worked for them briefly. There was a ... uh, disagreement. They settled out of court. That's all."

  At that moment the door opened and a young woman brought in a tray with a coffee service and cups.

  Right behind her came a rather tall, slender woman wearing a faultless blue-and-white seersucker suit, with dark blue shoes and a matching handbag that simply screamed "Coach!" Her hair was silvery white and perfectly groomed, and a large sapphire ring glinted on a manicured hand carrying a pair of spotless white gloves.

  She extended her right hand. "Hello, John."

  John scrambled to his feet. "Well! Hello, Grace, what a pleasant surprise!"

  Chapter 16

  "Mr. Frost," the secretary was babbling, "I'm so sorry. I told her you had clients and she said she would wait, but I didn't realize she was right behind . .. I'm so sorry ..."

  "It's all right, Doris. Thank you, now just run along, it's all right."

  "Poor John." The woman smiled. "I'm sorry to discombobulate you. I was downtown and just took a chance you might be free. I had no idea my visit would be so opportune."

  "Er, yes. Let me introduce you. My assistant, attorney Patricia Woodworth. Mrs. Sanhope."

  They exchanged greetings and John turned toward me. I was already on my feet, Fargo standing alertly beside me. It had been drilled into me since I could walk, to always stand up when an older person enters the room. And so I had done, and would probably still be doing when I was sixty, if the person entering were sixty-one.

  "Mrs. Sanhope, Alexandra Peres, my investigator."

  I extended my hand and she took it in her cool, dry, firm one. "Hello, Alexandra. You look just like your mother. I remember her from years back."

  "Thank you for the compliment. And I'm sure Mother will be thrilled by your recollection."

  Grace Sanhope uttered a genuine, full-throated laugh. "Ooh, the cub has teeth! Good. I like that. I like it when people stand up for their families." She looked down at Fargo. "And I assume this handsome animal is yours? May I pet him?"

  I liked that she asked. So many people meet an animal and just maul the hell out of him, never asking if that's agreeable with owner or pet. "He'll be disappointed if you don't. His name is Fargo."

  She let him smell her hand and then stroked his head and neck around his ears. I was proud that he stood so straight, not wiggling and nudging for more, tail moving in a slow, regal sweep. This was royalty greeting royalty here and they both knew it.

  "Oh, Fargo, you are just fine, aren't you?" She gave him a smile several watts warmer than any of us had gotten, and before John could continue his litany, she turned to Maureen.

  "And you must be the dear little mother-to-be." She did not offer to shake hands. "I must admit you're a pretty thing even if you are missing a brain under that beautiful hair. And if it is any comfort, Jack will be paying heavily for his equal stupidity." Maureen never looked up, never said a word.

  Amazin' Grace moved her eyes to Mary, and for the first time, her composure slipped.

  "Mary Sloan! What in God's name are you doing here? Is there no end to your meddling?"

  Maureen spoke at last. "She's my friend! You leave her alone!"

  "Your friend?" Grace asked. "I'd heard rumors you were a lesbian, but I never dreamed . . . you do have a bent for forming catastrophic relationships. Well, Mary, your presence is neither needed nor wanted. Please leave us."

  "I want her here!''' Maureen almost screamed.

  "And I do not. Mary, either leave, or this meeting is finished and we will see you in court."

  Finally, John found his voice. "Ah, Ms. Sloan, perhaps it would be best if only the principals remained . . . and my staff, obviously ... if you would be so kind."

  "All right, Mr. Frost, I'll go. But be careful, she's a slick one." Mary gave Grace a look that would disintegrate Mount Rushmore and walked out.

  Mrs. Sanhope slid into a chair at my end of the table and took an envelope from her bag. "Would you pass that to John, please?"

  She leaned her elbows on the table and pushed an errant ashtray away. "You don't need to read that right now, John. It's just for reference. I'll tell you what we're going to do." Oh, goody, someone else to tell us what to do! She folded her hands on the table and began calmly. "I am assuming the child is Jack's and that it is normal. In that case, Maureen will have the baby, but will straightaway sign an agreement forfeiting all custody rights. Immediately after the baby is born, we—my attorney—will take over any adoption proceedings."

  "I'm keeping the baby." Maureen sounded firm.

  John patted her arm. "Let her finish, my dear, then we'll talk."

  Grace gave him a tight smile that said, Like hell we will, and continued. "We will pay all medical expenses surrounding the pregnancy and birth. A few weeks before the baby is due, Maureen will check into an excellent private maternity hospital of our choice in New Hampshire, where she will have the baby."

  She turned to Maureen. "Whenever you go on maternity leave from your job, Maureen, if it is unpaid leave, we will pay whatever salary you currently make. When the baby is born, you will receive five thousand dollars when you leave the hospital, minus the eight hundred you extorted from my grandson." Without a pause, she asked, "John, do you know Jake Raymond, my attorney in Boston?"

  "Quite well. We both clerked for Judge Allsworth."

  "Fine." Grace collected her bag and gloves and stood. "Get together with him and get that written up so everything reads right." She pointed at the envelope. "Jack will sign it. So will Maureen. Good to see you, John, nice to meet you, ladies. Good day."

  "Wait!" Maureen sounded desperate. "I want to keep that baby, and I won't sign this thing."

  Grace answered her with a mild tone and deadly words. "That is certainly your right. If you elect not to accept our offer, you will have to go to court to get child support. Jack has a very small income. You will not be awarded much. We will make sure that you have nothing resembling a reputation left when the trial is over. We will prove you a crook and a dubious mother. It will be widely publicized because of who we are. I do not look forward to that, but we will survive it. You will look like the Whore of Babylon." She nodded once more to John and strode through the door.

  We sat as if posed for an artist. Stiff, expressionless, silent. Maureen recovered first. "That terrible old woman! Can she do that? Can she get away with it?"

  Trish shrugged. "Could and probably would. Actually, she's offered a lot of what you wanted anyway. We can hopefully get you some more cash. As for the rest of it, they'd probably drag in six guys to swear they slept with you, and Jack just had the bad luck to get you pregnant. They would question your late report of one rape and the good possibility that the other didn't happen at all. They would ask why you took the abortion money when you had no intention of actually having one. When her bunch of lawyers got through with you, you'd be a basket case and you'd be lucky to get a hundred dollars a month in child support... if the State let you keep the baby at all."

  "Then I really want that twenty thousand. I'll need every penny."
Maureen was hanging tough. Where had the happy couple bringing up baby gone?

  "You won't get it," John supplied. "I'll try for ten plus attorney's fees. Let me talk to Jake Raymond, he's a reasonable guy. Now try not to be upset." God, I loved it when people said that. "I'll be in touch." We dispersed.

  Fargo and I hid in the ladies room for a while until we were pretty sure neither Maureen nor Mary might still be around. We went down the back stairs and out through the alley. And then we practically ran to the Rat.

  Chapter 17

  Fargo flopped in the shade while I looped his lead around the anchor outside the Wharf Rat door. I told him I'd be right back and went inside to fetch him a bowl of water and a slice of Billie's meatloaf. She asked about the family. "How's Mae? Still growing all those herbs you mostly wouldn't know whether to eat or drink or rub 'em on? And Jeanne, still working for the Catholics though she isn't?"

  You had to get used to Billie's speech patterns, but after many years practice, I answered easily. "Aunt Mae stays busy, though mostly she grows herbs for cooking, not for medicinal purposes. And Mom still works at the church office. They're both fine, and ask about you often."

  "Give them my regards. Got some good crab cakes the way you like them on special without much breading. Want a plate?"

  "Sure."

  Fargo's lunch delivered, I went back in and looked around for a table. There were none, but I spotted Pete Santos again at the little table by the kitchen door. I hoped he'd give me a chance to apologize and maybe buy him lunch at last.

  He accepted my apology with frigid courtesy, and coolly declined my offer of lunch and a drink, which I could understand. I'd make it up to him someday when it didn't seem like a minor payoff.

  "So the girl dropped the rape claim?" he asked.

  "It seems so. I hope so. You know how it is, Pete, everybody tells the same story with a different slant. Maybe nobody's exactly lying, but nobody is exactly telling the truth either."

  He warmed up a bit, grinning slightly. "Story of the world, I guess. Well, now I'll have to make my peace with Jack for roping him into going by your house."

  "I don't think it will be too hard. I told him it was my idea, and that you said all along he didn't do it. Aha! At last!" My crab cakes and a cold Bud had arrived. For the rest of the meal we chatted of nothing special. The Yankees. Would Jeter kindly break another small bone or so? The Red Sox. The curse had finally ended! Pete finished lunch first and left to go back to work.

  I finished my filling lunch and went out to find Fargo dozing happily away, now in the warm sun. I had a great desire to join him, but thought it might look a little odd. So I picked up his dishes, unhooked his leash and we started home, where it wouldn't look odd at all.

  By the time we walked the several blocks home, I felt a little less like one of Billie's clams and a little more awake ... which was just as well, for parked in front of my house was Mary's truck. Shittay! As we say in old France. I went around the back of the house and there they were, comfortably ensconced at my outdoor table.

  "Oh, hi, Alex." Mary didn't seem the least ill at ease. "We figured you'd be at the Rat, but when we got there, you were with Pete Santos, and we didn't want to interfere, so we just came on over here to wait."

  "So I see." I sat down and didn't offer refreshments. I had some hope of making this visit brief. "What can I do for you?"

  Maureen answered. "Oh, Alex, you're so clever! Surely you can figure out a way I can keep my baby and not go into court against Jack and that awful woman."

  "Easy," I answered. "Just have the baby, keep it and raise it."

  "But to do that, I need money." She gave a sweet, pouty smile.

  "Work." I could see my gentle nap fluttering away across the treetops. Fargo didn't help by yawning cavernously and collapsing noisily by my side.

  Mary tapped her finger imperiously on the table. "Grace Sanhope should not be allowed to get away with this!"

  Feeling a little imperious myself, I tapped right back. "Grace isn't getting away with a thing. She didn't do anything. Jack has already paid, quite generously, for an abortion. Or they will pay you to put the baby up for adoption. If you want the baby that much, either support it yourselves or go to court. And I personally think the last is a very bad idea. You will both come out looking like a couple of opportunistic blackmailers."

  "Well, really ..."

  "Alex!"

  "Look." I tried to be patient. "You've both lied about when Jack was supposed to have raped Maureen. I can understand, Maureen, why you didn't go to the cops back in April if... er, when he raped you, but I cannot understand why you didn't go the night in June, when you say it happened again. You say he either got you drunk or drugged you. Well, the way to prove that would have been blood tests right away. Now it boils down to he said.. .she said. And Jack may possibly show up with friends who'll say they had sex with you, too. It will be perjury, but who will prove it? And now you're asking the Sanhopes to support a child being brought up by two lesbians, which might not sit well in court, either, depending on what judge or jury you get." I lit a cigarette and blew out a vicious cloud of smoke.

  "Either do as John Frost suggests or don't. But don't ask me to do the impossible or fabricate something to make you look better." I stood up. Startled, Fargo lunged to his feet and growled. I didn't even correct him, I just laid my hand on his head to quiet him.

  "I would never ask you to lie, Alex." Mary sounded hurt, and I was sorry for that, but Maureen was her problem, not mine. "I guess we'd best be going," she added lamely.

  "Indeed and we might as well," Maureen snapped. "You see how it goes, don't you, Mary? Her mother knows Grace. Grace likes her dog, the big spoiled lout. Her brother and Pete Santos are both coppers together. Alex and Pete just had lunch together. So you and me, darlin', we're outside and lookin' in."

  I was stunned at the words and the vitriol they held but tried not to show it. I did not appreciate her references to my mother and Fargo! Mary and Maureen walked across the lawn toward the driveway. I took a couple of steps after them and called, "Mary!"

  She turned back to me, and I said softly. "I'm sorry about all of this, Mary. I know you have a heavy emotional investment in this situation, but I really cannot help you. I know you wouldn't ask me to lie. I hope you also know I would never slant information in someone else's favor, either."

  "I trust you, Alex. I don't always like you, but I trust you." For some reason we shook hands, and she left.

  I hoped I was finished with Mary and Maureen. I wished them well, but I wanted no part of it anymore.

  I seemed to have been granted my wish. The following days went quietly. I got some dawn runs with Fargo and a few photos that I liked. Then I got carried away and decided to put up a couple of badly needed shelves in the garage. I actually got them installed, and damn near level, with but one small bruise on my thumb and one close call when I nearly put a board through the garage window.

  Saturday afternoon I was allowing myself to be cajoled by Cindy into putting some shelves in the tiny back hall of the cottage. They would provide some very welcome storage space for canned goods and extra pots and pans. We were now deciding exactly what I would charge for this service. We had about agreed on Sunday breakfast in bed and whatever might follow, and I was now trying to explain that some down payment was customary in these cases, when the phone rang.

  It was Sonny. He and Trish had been fishing and caught a bunch of nice flounder. Would we be interested in a fish fry? I asked Cindy. She said she'd agree to a postponement of down payments if Sonny and I would clean the fish outdoors where she wouldn't see or smell them, so I told them to come ahead.

  Sonny, bless him, had already cleaned and filleted the fish when they arrived. He and I made dinner, dipping the flounder fillets first in an egg wash, then in cornmeal and dropping them into a skillet with hot olive oil for a fast brown and flip. We made french fries and a big salad with four—count 'em, four—gorgeous radishes right from
my garden, thinly sliced as garnish. A dash by Sonny to the store for tartar sauce ... and dinner was served.

  And it was good. Afterward we lounged around the outdoor table with coffee and a B&B liqueur and I felt very rich.

  "What's the latest on Jack the Raper?" Sonny asked.

  "Don't look at me," I replied. "I hope to God I'm not in that mare's nest anymore."

  He turned his head to look at Trish, who shrugged. "Fairly quiet. John talked to the Sanhope attorney and got Maureen an extra four thousand in cash plus attorney's fees. She was not happy, although I don't think anyone could have done better. At any rate, the papers are signed."

  Sonny shook his head. "I don't know Maureen, but can't you cut her a little slack? She's only a kid. She's a million miles from home. Pregnant and dealing with a bunch of lawyers . .."

  "And doing quite well, thank you." Trish grinned sourly. "I think you can put away your armor and white horse. Maureen will not lose in this."

  "So now," Cindy asked, "When Maureen has the baby, is it immediately available for adoption? Or is an adoptive family found in advance? Just how does that work?"

  Trish poured herself another B&B, unusual for her. "I can tell you how I think this one is going to work." She looked at me. "You say Jack told you his brother Richard and wife can't have children, right?"

  "Right. I think her name is Lillian."

  "Okay. And the papers Maureen signed state that she's to check in the Mountain View Maternity Hospital, just outside that town in New Hampshire, no later than November seventeen. Her due date is December tenth. Keep that in mind." She sipped her drink and went on.

  "Right about now, Lillian is telling a few close friends that she is at last pregnant, but that she must be very careful if she is to carry full term. She's going to stay down here in Ptown and be super quiet. While she would enjoy e-mails, phone calls and cards . . . visitors and visiting are a no-no. But she will keep them apprised of her progress by letter and phone. On or about November seventeen, Lillian will check into Mountain View."