Unlawfull Alliances Read online

  It didn’t take me but a peek in the direction in which she was nodding, to know she was talking about Anthony and Scott Morrison.

  “What happened?”

  “Just the usual. It seems Scott, from my assessment, can never do enough to please Daddy. This time it had to do with some case Scott had just wrapped up. Someone asked how it was settled. Scott said in their favor, but Anthony said, not enough in their favor. There was plenty implied in his tone of voice and the look he gave Scott. I sometimes think Scott would do better to work with any firm but that one.”

  “Has it always been like that?” I asked.

  “Junior trying to live up to Senior’s expectations, and never making it? Pretty much.”

  “How does Rosemary handle it?”

  “Oh, Mama tries to fix everything and make sure everybody is happy. Isn’t that what women are for?” Said with my kind of sarcasm. Maybe Meredith and I could be friends after all.

  I reminded myself of my objective here, although Meredith was far too astute to allow me the luxury of prying as much as I would have liked. “And Amy?” asked with the subtlety of a pro.

  “Amy has learned to duck.”

  But not before absorbing the family tension, I suspected.

  “But that’s not all,” Meredith continued. “It seems Grandpa Morrison and Papa Morrison despise each other as much as Papa and Son do. Must be hereditary.”

  “Seriously?”

  “From my observation. I couldn’t hear much, but judging from the body language, there is definitely no love lost between Jack and Anthony Morrison.”

  “How about Anthony’s mother?”

  “Sophia? The Italian beauty?”

  “Beauty? She must be in her seventies.”

  “Yep. But check her out.” Meredith nodded toward the bar.

  “A Sophia Loren look-alike,” I muttered. “Must be in the name.”

  I looked from Grandma to Grandpa. Jack was just as big a man as I would have imagined, taller and broader than his son. Meredith had certainly not exaggerated the tension between the two men. Even from several yards away, it was apparent. Anthony’s hand that was not gripping his highball glass was tightened into a fist. Jack’s jaw was taut as he glared disapprovingly at his son.

  “Looks like Jack Morrison adores his grandson as much as he dislikes his son,” Meredith said.

  Scott walked into his grandfather’s embrace. Anthony downed his drink as if the nearly full glass were all but empty. Perhaps this explained why Anthony was always so disapproving of Scott—jealousy. And, it seemed, his father had failed to teach him the art of affectionate parenting. Why had he failed to love him? Had he too been jealous of his son, and of his wife’s attention to the young boy? Purely speculation, with a splash of intuition thrown in.

  But I was here to observe Amy, not her in-laws, although this too was important. After all, this was the family dynamic she had chosen.

  I snatched a crab puff from the tray that one of the servers was carrying and told Meredith I was off to find a drink. I wandered over to the tables along the edge of the tennis court where Amy was mingling. She seemed on today, not red-faced and teary-eyed at all. But still, with no visible evidence to have concern, I could feel a dark cloud hovering over her, about to rain on her light blue silk dress that swayed in tune with the gentle breeze.

  As if she felt my eyes observing her, she turned and looked at me. She did not smile, and I quickly concluded that she was remembering our last meeting.

  “How are you, Amy?”

  “Hello, Jenny. It’s nice to see you here. You’re looking lovely today.” She never did answer my question. Maybe she didn’t realize I expected an answer.

  “Thank you. And you, as beautiful as always.”

  With a simple gesture of her hand, she threw away my compliment. But for her, they were, no doubt, a dime a dozen. She was, after all, one of the most stunning women I had ever seen. Her long black hair and deep blue eyes added an exotic quality that made her beauty unique.

  “Are you doing okay?” I stared into those exotic blue eyes, giving her no room to misinterpret my meaning.

  Her words were carefully chosen. “Yes, I’m fine. It was really nothing the other evening.” She smiled and raised her glass of white wine. “PMS, no doubt.”

  Since when was PMS too personal to discuss? And why was it still hanging over her?

  “Well, I’m glad to hear that. My offer—”

  “Thank you, Jenny.”

  Dismissed once again. I wondered if she knew how good she was at that.

  I was here for a reason, I reminded myself. Time to earn my keep. Professional mingling.

  Just as I was consulting my mental list of names, Rosemary found me. “Jenny, I’m so pleased you came.”

  “I realized you were right, Rosemary. I really shouldn’t be so much of a hermit.”

  “No, you shouldn’t. Come, I’ll introduce you. Who don’t you know?”

  I glanced from cabana to pool to tennis court. Far too many people for her to introduce me to. For now I needed to stick with the ones I did know—and those who knew Amy.

  “Don’t you worry about me, Rosemary. You have enough to do here. But it must be wonderful having Amy to help you host this event.”

  “Oh, yes. It is wonderful. Since she and Scott got married a couple years ago, she’s been such a blessing in all of our lives.” She glanced in Amy’s direction with a longing that I recognized, and I wondered why she and Anthony had only had one child.

  “It’s like having a daughter, isn’t it?” I said gently.

  She smiled. “Exactly. I am so grateful.”

  “I can see that. You and Amy seem very close.”

  “Yes.” It was clear that Rosemary knew nothing of Amy’s alleged extramarital affair or she would not be as fond of her daughter-in-law as she was. Either that or she had missed her calling as an actress.

  I excused myself and moved on to Erica Stratton. Different type, same law firm. But actually, when I thought about it, all four of the wives of the Morrison, Gimble, Stratton, and Morrison law firm were as varied as they came. Amy the silent enchantress, Rosemary the proper but nervous matriarch, Dana the steadfast school teacher, and Erica the athletic, independent woman.

  I caught her alone at the bar, ordering a gin and tonic and two beers. I wondered who they were for. With her muscular arms, she’d have had no problem serving a tray full of drinks to her favorite men and then some. Erica was not a beautiful woman, but she oozed sensuality that I suspected attracted more than one man.

  “How are you, Erica?” A simple beginning.

  She shoved her short brown hair behind her ears and turned to look at me, no less than suspiciously. Had I never greeted her before? Or was it the shock of seeing me twice in the same week?

  “I’m fine. And you, Jenny?”

  “Very well. It’s a lovely gathering, don’t you think?”

  “Mmm.”

  “And doesn’t Amy look beautiful. I’ve never seen her wear her hair down before. I suspect she has turned a few heads today.”

  I watched Erica closely as I said it. Her throat muscles had constricted to the point that had she tried to speak, only a squeak would have emerged.

  I had not expected jealousy. I was hoping for insight into whose head had indeed been turned. I sat back in silence, waiting for Erica to speak. So much came from silence, I had learned over the years. Erica too remained quiet, staring at Amy. Her dislike for the younger woman was blatant. I assumed the jealousy, if that’s what it was, had to do with Scott. After all, he seemed clearly the apple of Erica’s eye.

  “Yes,” she said quietly, “her hair does look good down.” It was said with a controlled effort at politeness.

  I was going to have to hit this one straight on if I was to learn what I came here to learn. “You don’t like Amy very much, do you, Erica?”

  Her eyes flickered open wide and she laughed. “The truth? No, not very much.”

&nb
sp; “Why?”

  I knew I was risking being told it was none of my business, but I sensed relief that someone was asking her an honest question, and that she might just give me an honest answer.

  “Let’s just say, before little Miss Cool and Gorgeous entered our lives, I felt young. Now suddenly I’m feeling my age. No woman likes that.”

  “What changed?”

  “The way men look at me. I used to be the one they all lusted after.”

  “All?”

  She laughed, suddenly self-conscious. “This is a lusty bunch, my dear. Even when they know they can only dream, they lust. And, I rather liked being the subject of their dreams.”

  “In other words, some of the attention you used to get has been transferred to Amy?”

  A couple inches shorter than my five feet six inch stature, she tilted her head back to stare me straight in the eye. I must have hit a nerve. But the moment passed, and she said, “Don’t worry, Scotty still adores me.”

  “But he loves Amy.” Fishing, Jenny.

  “Of course he loves her, or why would he have married her?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Because she’s beautiful? The same way women sometimes marry men who are handsome or rich?”

  “Not in Scotty’s case, I’m afraid. He’s head over heels.” She sighed with regret, snapped up the three drinks from the bar. “Later.”

  Before she could end our conversation, I said, quickly, “And Amy, is she head over heels for Scott?”

  Erica was overtly taken aback by my question. Too blunt, Jenny?

  “Why would you ask that?”

  “Just curious. I have a theory about relationships,” I lied. “I rarely see one where one person isn’t more invested in it than the other.”

  Erica’s eyebrows raised slightly as she scanned the crowd. “You may have something there,” she said, and I wondered which one in her relationship was more invested.

  Before she could ramble off to deliver the drinks, I said, “I get the feeling Scott is the one in that marriage.”

  “Oh, Scott may be the one who’s in love, but I think our sweet little Amy Morrison is dedicated to making sure that marriage stays intact.”

  Whatever that meant. In desperate need of a break from snooping, I headed for the pool and settled into a lounge chair beside Meredith. Hugh had left her side for more mingling and legal chit chat.

  “Too much for you?” she asked.

  “A bit. But I must admit, I do find your favorite spectator law firm most intriguing.”

  She perked up and said, “Anything I should know about?”

  I laughed. “Don’t know a thing, but I do find the dynamics interesting. Tell me about Erica and Richard Stratton. They’re an odd duo.”

  “Yeah, I’ve always wondered about them. When he isn’t drunk and coming on to anything in a dress, he’s whining and whimpering. The guy is good looking all right, in a James Coburn kind of way, but take him out of that designer suit and put him in a pair of polyester pants and let him open his mouth, and you’ve got a used car salesman. Don’t know what Erica sees in him.”

  “Maybe his vulnerability,” I said. Where did that come from? And did I trust it? “I just don’t see him as part of that firm. He doesn’t fit in with the others, does he? I wonder why Morrison and Gimble took him in, unless he was different back when he joined the firm. Joe’s told me that the others are excellent litigation attorneys. I get the feeling Richard’s hanging onto the firm by a thread.”

  “Yeah, and that thread is his wife.”

  “Erica? What do you mean?”

  “Oh, Jenny, you are so out of the loop.”

  Just the way I liked it, but it didn’t help Charlie’s investigation.

  Chapter 4

  After Meredith abandoned me for the salmon soufflé, I found myself sitting at a table with Jim and Dana Gimble, sipping Cabernet and munching cheese balls. Dana was thanking her husband for once again talking to her advanced political science class about the life of an attorney. When she kissed him on his bearded cheek, I recognized true affection. There was a soft side to this normally crude man, but I was sure he’d never admit that.

  When Richard Stratton joined us, I figured I’d hit the jackpot. Two members of the divorce law firm at once. Who knows what insights they might offer me into the mysterious Amy Morrison.

  With no four hundred dollar cufflinks to distract Richard today, I was certain to get some attention, that is, if the bourbon he was gulping down the way I swallowed water after a hike in the Olympics, hadn’t yet gone to his head. As it turned out, I was immensely grateful for Dana’s company.

  After trying unsuccessfully to steer the men away from shop talk, I turned my attention to her. “Lovely party,” I said. How was that for an inspired comment?

  “Yes. All of Rosemary’s are.”

  “Have you attended many of her social events?”

  Dana laughed, “I try to. They’re always my favorites. Definitely the best food.”

  “Definitely.”

  So far the men had not looked at us once during our conversation. Perhaps engaging them in dialog was not necessary. Observing their reactions might be equally informative.

  I waited for a lull in their dialog and raised my voice slightly, “Doesn’t Amy Morrison look lovely today?”

  Richard’s head turned and his eyes darted toward Amy as if they knew exactly where to find her. Was he the other man in her life? Not possible, I thought. A tennis player and a runner, certainly he was fit, and yes, good-looking, but Meredith was right. That was as far as his attraction went. I stifled a giggle at the image of him, circling a used car lot in tight brown polyester pants and a light blue nylon shirt.

  Jim’s reaction was altogether different. A scowl formed on his bearded face and he grunted as if in complete disagreement with my comment.

  Dana’s expression revealed not a flicker of envy. “She is enchanting, isn’t she?”

  Jim quickly brought Richard’s attention back to business as Dana and I settled in to watch the crowd. I didn’t know why, but despite his crassness and affliction for calling women girls and bitches, something told me that Jim Gimble was the glue that held their law firm together.

  I gave up on the men and returned my attention to Dana. “Rosemary is very fond of Amy.” I was speaking more quietly now, in hopes that Dana would speak more openly if her husband was not included in the conversation.

  One eyebrow raised itself slightly. Disagreement? Or was I making too much of a little quiver? “She certainly seems to be. I sometimes wonder why they didn’t have more children.”

  “Yes,” I said. “I’ve wondered that myself.” Back to Amy. “But now Rosemary has a daughter, or as near to a daughter as possible.”

  Dana smiled. “There’s nothing quite like it, is there? I’m so grateful to have two girls. You have a daughter too, don’t you, Jenny?”

  “Holly, yes. But she’ll be off to college in the fall.”

  Dana sighed. “They grow up too soon.”

  This was not the direction I wanted this conversation to take. “I’m not in any hurry, mind you, but I suppose I’ll be getting another ‘daughter’ one of these days, when Matthew marries.”

  “Does he have a girlfriend?”

  “Several.” I laughed. “I think it might be a while. He has plenty of time. He is only twenty.”

  “Definitely plenty of time.”

  “I hope he finds someone he loves as much as Scott obviously loves Amy.” I held my breath, awaiting Dana’s response. I didn’t know how many more times I could bring this conversation back to Amy without being obvious.

  “He does love her. He’s such a sweet boy.”

  Boy? Hmm. Early thirties at least.

  “How long have you known him?”

  “Oh, many years. Jim and Anthony went to law school together, so we’ve known Scott since he was a baby.”

  All I had learned so far was how long the Morrisons and the Gimbles had been friends,
and that they were fond of Scott. Nothing about Amy, except that Dana seemed to approve of her, while Jim did not. Or did she?

  “You seem to be fond of Amy too, Dana.”

  A shrug and a noncommittal nod. I struck again, head on. “Whereas, Jim doesn’t seem to share your affection for her.”

  Slowly she turned to meet my eyes. Then she stood up, snatched up her empty wine glass, and said quite simply, “No.”

  I leaned back in my chair and took a deep breath. How did I let you talk me into this one, Charlie?

  There were more people to talk to, but for now I would settle for people-watching. Didn’t actions speak louder than words? Or was that just an excuse to take a break from mingling?

  I searched the mob for Amy. She was shaking hands with a group of new arrivals. Her arm made a welcoming gesture as she pointed toward the hors d’oevres table, the musical quartet, and the bar. Was it my imagination or did a smile linger on her lips as she caught the bartender’s eye.

  When the bartender winked in her direction, I decided it was definitely not my imagination. I may have struck gold here. I would have to watch these two more closely. I also would have to find out the hunk behind the bar’s name. I wasn’t alone on that one. In the two minutes that had passed, five women had gone to the bar for drinks. Wasn’t it more customary for the man to do that? I remembered that being the case at these social functions, but today it was definitely the women who were volunteering to fetch the drinks.

  No more interaction between the bartender and Amy, but perhaps she was preoccupied with her hostess duties. Besides, she was the type to be discreet.

  Maybe I would do better to watch the men watching her. There were plenty of those, perhaps as many as there were women eyeing the virile bartender. Even Joe’s law firm was not immune. Jane Hunter’s subdued husband, Howard, glanced up from his tennis magazine more than once to eye the exotic woman. And it did not escape my detective eye that Hugh Fleming had turned his head more than a few times when Amy Morrison walked by. He was cautiously discreet in his observation of the lovely long legs. I suspected I was one of the few to notice. Unless his wife, my observant friend Meredith, happened to be in the vicinity at that moment to notice her husband.