The Wife Stalker(68)
“I didn’t realize she’d wanted to be an actress.”
“Oh yes,” she sneered. “Thought she was quite the little star. Even when she was little, she always wanted to put on plays for us with her friends, insisted on being the center of attention. We’d tell her we weren’t interested. I mean, really. It does no good to coddle children, to lull them into a false sense of security about unattainable goals. Do you realize how minuscule the chances are that she would be able to support herself by acting?” She didn’t wait for me to answer, clearly warming to the subject. “Close to zero. We wanted her to go into a meaningful field, be a doctor or an engineer. We thought we’d talked sense into her when she chose Virginia Tech, but then she ran off with Ethan. A spoiled rich boy.”
I jumped in. “Her second husband was rich, too. He and his daughter also died in an accident.”
I watched her face as that sank in.
“What kind of accident?”
“Sailing. Apparently the daughter fell off the boat, and her father jumped in after her. They weren’t wearing life vests, and they both drowned.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Very odd, indeed. Pamela was with them?”
I nodded.
“I can’t imagine why they weren’t wearing life vests. That’s sailing 101.”
I decided to plunge ahead. “I have to wonder if maybe it wasn’t an accident.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you accusing my daughter of murder?”
“No. But you have to admit, two husbands with untimely deaths is awfully coincidental. Ethan died while the two of them were hiking, and she inherited the money from his trust fund. And her second husband, Matthew Dunn, left her an estate worth twenty million. Don’t you think that’s suspicious?”
“It may be, but what do you expect me to do? I don’t have any influence over her any longer. If you’re so worried, you should go to the police. I can’t help you.”
I leaned forward. “Dr. Rayfield, please. Just tell me: Do you think she’s capable of murder?”
She leaned back in her chair, clasped her hands together, and closed her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know. I never really understood her. There was one incident . . .”
My heartbeat quickened. “What?”
“There was graffiti spray-painted on a teacher’s blackboard, threatening to kill him. It was the same teacher who’d given her a bad grade.”
“You thought she might have spray-painted the threat because someone failed her?”
“No, no. He’d given her a B, and we’d grounded her for two weeks, so she had to miss the homecoming dance. In the end, they crowned the runner-up since she couldn’t go.”
They’d grounded her for a B and made her miss homecoming when she was selected queen? It was a wonder she hadn’t threatened to kill them, Joanna thought.
Marion shook her head. “She swore she had nothing to do with it. But there was black spray paint in our garage.”
“Had she bought it?”
“No, it was my husband’s. But as you say, very coincidental.”
This woman was a real head case. “Anything else?” I asked.
“Not that I can think of. I’d have to say that anything is possible. I washed my hands of her a long time ago. If there’s nothing else?”
I shook my head and stood to leave. “Thank you so much for your time.”
If anyone had the recipe for raising a sociopath, it was Marion Rayfield.
45
Piper
Leo’s family was coming over for Thanksgiving dinner in a few hours, and Piper was nervous. She’d wanted to have help here today so she could focus on her guests, but Leo had cautioned her against it, saying his mother wouldn’t think well of her if she did.
She’d met Leo’s family only once before, on their disastrous would-be wedding day. Leo had confided to her that his mother thought he was getting remarried too fast. Piper would have preferred if he’d have kept that information to himself. Why couldn’t men tell when discretion was the better part of valor?
The house was blessedly quiet. Rebecca had left to spend the day with her father, and Leo had taken Evie to the Compo Beach playground, but Stelli had complained of another stomachache and was resting upstairs. Soon enough the house would be filled, though, with Leo’s parents, his brothers, their wives, and their kids. There would be sixteen for dinner, including Piper, Leo, and the children. She hoped today would be a time when she might ingratiate herself with the family.
She tied an apron around her waist and went to work. She’d put the turkey in early that morning and was putting the finishing touches on the homemade pie crusts. She had made the mashed potato and sweet potato casseroles last night, and they were in the refrigerator, ready to be popped into the oven. Now she was organizing appetizers and veggies for before the feast. She’d decided to tackle a Greek appetizer, hoping it might endear her to Leo’s parents, and settled on spinach pie, painstakingly filling the filo she’d gotten at the grocery store with what she hoped was the perfect balance of spinach and feta cheese.
She put the three pies in the oven, set the timer for forty minutes, and went into the dining room, where she put together a simple centerpiece—a row of seven low glass vases with a single white mum in each—simple and elegant. Straightening one of the place mats, she moved a wineglass a tad, and left the room feeling satisfied. Now she could go upstairs and get herself ready before Leo and Evie returned.