Requiem Murder Part 21

Judith sipped her third or fourth gla.s.s of Scotch and preened. Occasionally, she stroked Roger's arm. Marcie stood beside her father in the doorway leading to the dining room. Every time her mother sang, she flinched. Not that I blamed her.

"Magnificent." Edward's voice sounded over the last note. "You're to be congratulated, all of you." He rose and headed to the buffet. "Now for what we really came for, the food."

Roger bowed. "I'm proud of you but wait until Pa.s.sion Sunday."

"We were good, weren't we?" Though Judith had included everyone, her stance and her expression shouted "me."

A dozen conversations began. Lars and I joined Laura and Edward at the table. Martin and Marcie

carried food from the kitchen and removed the remains of the appetizers.

As we ate I noticed the number of times Judith went to the bar. Lars and I had filled our plates with some new dishes and some old standbys. I must admit to eating more than I should have. The portions were small but the variety was vast. Lars returned for seconds once the crowd around the table thinned. My eyes said more but my stomach protested.

Judith waved me to her side. "Would you like to cut your famous cake?"

"Why not." I followed her into the kitchen.

Marcie sat at the table cutting a pan of brownies. Martin filled a large coffee urn.

"What did you think of your mother's performance?" Judith strutted across the room. "Pretty good.

Makes your voice look weak."

I picked up a knife and began to cut the cake. Stay cool, child, I prayed.

Judith whirled. "I'm waiting, Marcie." A smile played across her lips.

"You were all right."

"All right. What do you mean by all right?" Judith's voice rose in pitch and I felt sure the sound carried to

the dining room. "What would you know? Don't you wish you had a voice like mine?"

"No."

Silence followed Marcie's answer. My fingers curled around the knife. Why had the child been so blunt?

"I guess you think you could have done better."

"I'm not an alto."

"Just because you can pick out a few tunes on the piano doesn't mean you know a thing about music."

"You were flat. Your voice had no expression."

"Flat. You wouldn't know flat. Not with a voice that pulls the fillings from my teeth."

"Then you have a tin ear." Marcie pushed the brownie pan away.

Martin entered the kitchen. He looked from one to the other. He took a step toward his daughter and

then one toward his wife. At any other time, his indecision would have been comic.

"I'm tired of you putting me down" Marcie said. "I'm tired of you messing up my life. I know what I heard. I have perfect pitch." Marcie rose. "Ask Roger since you believe everything he says. Though after

what I saw Thursday night when Dad was away, Roger might lie. You're too old for him. Good thing you pa.s.sed out before he laughed in your face."

In two strides, Judith reached her daughter. Before either Martin or I could act, she slapped Marcie.

"Ingrate. Just don't look to your father and me for college tuition. You're on your own."

Marcie fled from the kitchen. Judith whirled to follow but Martin caught her arm.

"Judith, we have guests."

She made a face. "I meant what I said. Not another dollar for cla.s.ses in the city or music lessons with

Roger." She pulled free. "I'll tell him he's not to see her again." She straightened. "I need another drink and to see to our guests. And I need to tell Tom --" The door closed on her words.

Martin slumped against the counter. "I don't know what's wrong with her these days."

"She needs help. Call Andrew. He might have some suggestions."

"She'd never go."

"Then for starters why not ALANON for you and Marcie. Your daughter needs help in dealing with this."

"We can't go."

"Why not?"

"It just wouldn't do for everyone in town to learn

what's going on."

Did he think no one heard Judith and Marcie?

"Who's Tom?"

He frowned. "Her oldest brother. He died years ago."

"Why does she confuse Roger and him? Do they resemble each other."

"Never met him. He died before Judith and I met and she doesn't talk much about him."

I picked up the knife and finished slicing the cake. "Let me talk to Marcie. She needs someone who will listen to her. She'll go to college. You and I can work something out."

"Thanks."

Lars met me at the stairs. "Kate, I'm ready to leave."

"I need to talk to Marcie."

"I heard a bit of her outburst. Everyone did. Marcie ran upstairs."

Judith's laughter drifted from the living room and startled me. She sounded as though the scene in the

kitchen had been an illusion.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I found Marcie in Roger's arms. He patted her back. "She'll forget this by tomorrow. How often have I told you to use tact with her?"

"She hates me." Marcie said.

"Not true." He stepped back but she followed him like

a moth seeking heat. "This is my fault. I shouldn't have given her a solo. She doesn't handle pressure and she's in constant need of rea.s.surance."

Marcie looked up at him. "She'll make me quit my lessons."

"She won't. She's had too much excitement and too much to drink today. She's your mother. She'd never hurt you."

She pulled away. "Why does everyone protect her? You. Dad. You don't know what she's like."

"Marcie," I said. "There's something I'd like to tell you."

Roger retreated to the steps. She clutched his shirt sleeve. "Stay."

He bent and whispered something in her ear. She nodded. As he pa.s.sed me he patted my arm. "Do what

you can to calm her."

Marcie's eyes were tear-swollen. The side of her face where Judith's blow had landed was red and I

feared by tomorrow there'd be a bruise. I stepped into the bathroom and wet a washcloth with cold water. "Put this on your face. Later, you might want to get some ice."

She looked at me. "I hate her. I wish she was dead."

"I know. It's all right to feel that way. Her actions were completely wrong. Has she ever hit you before?"

She shook her head. "Never."

"Don't worry about college. The money will be there."

"That's not what I'm afraid of. I can play at a church or give lessons. How can I live with her? She's crazy."

Though I agreed, I didn't tell Marcie. "People like your mother are jealous of those who are talented. She had a dream when she was young but she didn't go after what she wanted. Some people can't stand to see another succeed when they've failed. They attack and they hurt."

Her eyes widened. "That's exactly what she does. You saw her in the kitchen. She's always screaming things at me, but that's the first time she got physical."

That was a relief. "I wish there was some way you could leave."

"That's hard when you're just a kid. She's never heard of privacy. She snoops, even reads my diary, so now, I just make up dumb stuff." She gulped a breath. "Why can she hurt me again and again and no one does anything? I've thought about reporting her but who'd believe me?"

Marcie was probably right. Judith's position in the community and Martin's refusal to believe his wife would do anything wrong would play a factor. Since this was the first time there'd been physical action, I wasn't sure anything would be done.