Don't Scream Part 30

It was Tildy who urged her to marry Alec when she was feeling wishy-washy about their engagement.

Maybe you should have listened to yourself for a change,she cant help but realize belatedly.

Then again, she never saideven to herselfthat shes going to back out of her wedding. She didnt leave Alec at the altar; she just chose not to attend her shower. Thats all.

So far.

She locks the car and walks briskly away from the parking garage, headed toward Tildys house.

All you have to do is get there,she tells herself irrationally,and everything will be okay .

Then she rounds the corner onto Commonwealth Avenue, with a straight-shot view of the brick town house, its perimeter wrapped in yellow crime scene tape.

Quincy, Connelly, and Deb have to shoulder their way through the crowd gathered on the sidewalknot just curious onlookers, but the media.

This, after all, is big news. The Harringtons are one of Bostons premier families. Dashing Jason Harrington famously doted on his only child, especially after tragically losing his wife and son in a plane crash years ago. The tragedy, combined with movie-star good looks and vast wealth, enhanced the familys Kennedyesque mystique.

The beautiful, elegant Matilda Harrington has been a fixture on her fathers arm since her debutante days, frequently pictured in the society pages.

Now sh.e.l.l be undoubtedly on the front page: BACK BAY SOCIALITE SLAIN.

Of course, the most sensational details wont emerge in the papers. No one outside the immediate homicide investigation knows about the creepy, staged birthday party. Thats a detail the detectives are keeping from the press and the public.

Quincy, Connelly, and Deb ignore the reporters frenzied questions as they make their way to their waiting car, but their expert eyes skim the faces in the crowd.

It wouldnt be the first time Quincy spotted a suspicious onlooker who later turned out to be the culprit. Some sickos get off on showing up at the crime scene or funeral to witness the fallout from their diabolical handiwork.

Nothing here, though, at a glance.

Just a throng of curious bystanders, most of them well-heeled locals, sprinkled with press and law enforcement.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spots a face that draws his attention for some reason.

The young, attractive African-American woman on the fringes of the crowd is staring up at Matilda Harringtons home.

And shes wearing an expression that seems far more vested than those around her.

Turning his head to get a better look, Quincy observes that shes unmistakably grief-strickenand something more.

Shes deathly afraid,he notes, watching her from across the sea of heads.

Yes, and theres something furtive about the way shes starting to slip back from the crowd.

Quincy abruptly begins to move toward her, but there are too many people in his way. By the time he reaches the spot where she was standing, its empty. He looks around just in time to see her disappear around the corner at the end of the block.

He heads immediately in that direction, but shes gone.

He wont forget her face, thoughor the way she fled the scene as if she feared for her own life.

Hearing Brynn cry out, Garth, shirtless and shaving, turns off the tap. With his razor poised in his hand and one cheek covered in a white layer of Gillette, he opens the bathroom door and peers down the hall.

Silence.

Maybe he imagined the scream. He can hear water running in the kitchen. Shes probably still disinfecting the counter where the dead bird lay until Officer Demuth took it away as evidence.

He said hed see if they could run some tests on it. Garth could tell he was mostly humoring them, though. He was inclined to chalk it up to a prank, most likely pulled by one of Garths students.

Its a college town, the officer said as he left. Things like this happen all the time.

Hes right, Garth told Brynn after Officer Demuth had driven away. It was probably just kids. Nothing to worry about.

But she wasisworried. He can tell.

But now all is quiet down the hall, aside from the running water and the faint sound of Jeremys happy chatter.

Garth is about to close the bathroom door, his mind on the shave he has to finish quickly if hes going to make it to campus in time for his next cla.s.s, when he hears it again.

This time, its more of a sob.

Brynn? He sets aside his razor and hurries down the hall.

In the kitchen, Jeremy is kneeling on the floor in front of an open cabinet, cheerfully stacking plastic Tupperware containers.

Brynn is by the sink where the tap is running for no apparent reason. Her back is to him and shes clutching the cordless phone to her ear, crying.

She must be telling someone about the dead bird, he decides. And shes definitely overreacting.

Then she turns around and he sees her stricken face.

My G.o.d, what happened? Garth sidesteps the Tupper-ware, going immediately to her side. He turns off the faucet before taking her trembling arm. Who are you talking to?

Its Ca.s.sie Who?

My friend Ca.s.sandra, she clarifies impatiently, tearfully. Garth, Tildy is dead.

What!

Somebody killed her Tildy. My sorority sister, she adds.

As if he doesnt know.

Garth, who knows Matilda Harrington far better than his wife would ever imagine, pulls Brynn close and buries his head in her hair, not daring, in this moment, to let her glimpse his face.

CHAPTER 12.

Brynn cant seem to wrap her mind around the fact that Matilda Harrington is actually dead.

Not just dead Murdered.

Ca.s.sie didnt provide Brynn with any other details; she was too shaken. She just kept crying and repeating, I cant believe it, and Oh, G.o.d, poor Tildy.

With Garth at her side, Brynn couldnt even bring up the possibility of Tildys death having anything to do with the three of them and their secret And the dead cardinal she found on her countertop this morning.

But Ca.s.sie is on her way here. She said shed leave right away, and drive straight to Cedar Crest. Brynn didnt question her, or argue.

She knows Ca.s.sie is thinking the same thing she is. And Fiona will, as well.

Here. Garth tries to hand her a gla.s.s of cold water as she stands with the phone still clutched in her fist. Drink this.

She waves it away, dialing with a trembling finger. I have to call Fee.

Do you want me to do it for you?

No!

She wants him to go away, thats what she wants.

She cant think straight with him here, and Jeremy rhythmically tapping a plastic Tupperware lid on the linoleum, babbling incessantly.

Fiona Fitzgeralds office, Emily speaking.

Emily, this is her friend Brynn, she says in a rush, turning her back on Garth and the gla.s.s of water hes still holding out to her. I need to speak to her right away, please.

Ms. Fitzgerald is unavailable.

Is shethere?

Emily hesitates, then repeats, Shes unavailable.

Tell her I need to speak to her, please, right away. Its an emergency.

Shes unavail Look, someonedied, okay? she bites out, fed up with Fiona and her professional blockade. Who does she think she is, the president? Get her on the d.a.m.ned phone!

She realizes Jeremy has stopped tapping the lid and is watching her with interest. She flashes him a tight smile.

d.a.m.ned! he says cheerfully. d.a.m.ned, d.a.m.ned, d.a.m.ned phone!

Terrific. Come here, kiddo. Garth scoops him into his arms and looks at Brynn. Are you okay?

No, Im not okay. She exhales shakily. I feel sick.

Sit down. Garth pulls out a chair.

But before she can move theres a click in her ear, and Fionas voice says crisply, Brynn? I swear, for your sake and Emilys someone hadbetter be dead because I gave her explicit instructions not to Its Tildy, Fee. Tildys dead. Her voice breaks and shes crying all over again.

Dead silence.

Then,What?

Tildys dead. Someone killed her.

Brynn sinks into the chair, conscious of her husbands hands on her shoulder, coaxing her down.

He hovers beside her with Jeremy in his arms as, still feeling dazed, she gives Fiona what little information she has.

How did Ca.s.sie find out about this?

I dont know, Tildys father must have called her or something. She didnt say. She was a mess.

And so am I.

She wants to tell Fee about the dead cardinal, but she cant. Not with her husband right here, listening, wanting to help.

Well, you cant get rid of him fast enough,Brynn tells herself.You have to speak to Fee and Ca.s.sie alone.

Shes coming right over, she tells Garth when she hangs up the phone.

Was she upset?

Fiona? Of course.

Shehas to be upset. She just lost a friend.

Yet she wasnt openly distraught or emotional, like Brynn. No, when she initially realized Brynn was serious about Tildys death, Fiona reacted with an expletive. She repeated it over and over, under her breath.

And she didnt cry.

But then, tears never were her style. Happy tears, or sad tears. She didnt cry on her wedding day, and she didnt cry over her divorce.

Unlike Brynn, who, according to Fiona, sheds tears at the slightest provocation.

But this isnt slight, and its all she can do to pull herself together now, under Garths watchful gaze.

Here, Jeremy, come on, lets get you dressed. Brynn reaches for her son.

He happily stretches his arms toward her, but Garth doesnt hand him over.

Its okay, he says. You try to calm down a little. Ill take care of him.

Im calm. You have to go to campus.

And I have to talk to Fiona and Ca.s.sie in private.