Board Stiff (Mattie Winston Mysteries) Read online

  After exiting out the front door and climbing into the hearse, I decide to do a quick swing through McDonald’s and order Hoover a hamburger for his good behavior. I consider ordering something for myself, but my stomach still feels unsettled so I decide to wait.

  My stop at the drive-through takes enough time for Hurley to beat me to my house. He is waiting for me when I pull up, standing on the front porch, leaning against a post. “Did you get lost?” he says as I get out.

  “I did a quick drive-through at McDonald’s to get Hoover a treat.”

  Hoover bounds out of the car and runs over to him, whining and wagging his tail as if he is greeting some long lost lover. I kind of know how he feels. As I look at Hurley, all tall and lanky leaning against my porch post with that blue-eyed smile, I want to wag my tail, too.

  After letting Hoover water a tree, I head inside and Hurley follows. Before I know what’s happening, he closes the door and grabs my arm, spinning me back toward him. He pulls me in close so that my chest is against his. “Can we talk before we go see this woman?”

  I’m not sure I’m physically capable of speech at the moment so I simply nod.

  “I am so sorry about this mess with Kate. Believe me, I had no idea she never filed the divorce papers. Nor did I know she was pregnant. Her reasons for keeping all that to herself are a bit sketchy. Every time I ask her about it, she shrugs vaguely and mumbles something about how she was worried I’d make her give the kid up. Believe me, there is absolutely nothing between us, anymore. To be honest, there never really was. That’s why we decided to divorce.”

  “That’s all fine and dandy, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a married man, Hurley. And you have a kid.”

  “The marriage part I’m taking care of. That should be finalized in another week or so. The kid I can’t do anything about.” His eyes soften and he lets out a tiny sigh. “Not that I’d want to. Emily is great. She’s smart, funny, sweet tempered.... I’m a little pissed that Kate kept her from me all these years. But the whole fatherhood thing takes some getting used to. I’m not sure I’m cut out for the job.”

  I see genuine affection in his eyes and find it touching . . . as well as worrisome. Some silly part of me wonders if his feelings for his daughter will somehow roll over into renewed feelings for a woman he once cared about enough to marry. Then I remind myself that Hurley isn’t mine to be jealous over.

  “I get that you didn’t plan any of this, Hurley,” I say, pushing away from him. “But it doesn’t change the reality of it. And now that I’m back at my old job, we have the issue of our conflict of interest problem to deal with again, too.” I shake my head and squeeze my eyes closed. “I don’t know, Hurley. It seems like everything in the universe is working against us. It’s as if we aren’t meant to be together.”

  Hurley closes the distance I created between us and pulls me to him. Before I can object or say another word, he kisses me. And then his hands start going places that turn my mind to mush. It’s only a matter of seconds before the universe starts playing a different tune.

  “Still think we don’t belong together?” Hurley says as we lay side by side on my bed, stark naked, happily fulfilled, and utterly exhausted.

  “That wasn’t a fair test.”

  “I’d say it was a pretty good test.”

  “Just because you know how to make me crazy doesn’t mean the universe wants us together. I can’t give up my job again, Hurley. And I hate to sound like a broken record, but technically you’re a married man.”

  “It’s too late not to break that commandment if that’s your worry. Besides, it’s not like Kate and I had a viable marriage of any sort. Hell, I haven’t spoken to or seen her in nearly fifteen years. As for the job, let’s just keep this little tryst between you and me.”

  “I’m not much into that ménage à trois stuff, anyway.” I say it in a half joking tone, because I’m seriously concerned about the future of my job and our relationship.

  Hurley seems to sense this. “We can do this, Winston. We just need to be careful and avoid suspicion by not spending any time alone together in places where others will notice.”

  “You mean like here, now?” As if my words prompted the Fates to screw with us, there is a knock at my door. Hurley and I fly out of bed and start rounding up our clothes, which look like debris from a laundry bomb. I holler out, “Just a second,” as I hop on one foot, my muscles screaming in agony as I try to get my pants back on. Hurley grabs all his clothes and dashes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. As soon as I have myself decently covered, I head for the door, though in the interest of time I forgo my bra and stuff it under a pillow. I smooth my hair before opening the door and paste a friendly smile on my face. The smile quickly disappears when I see who’s standing on the other side.

  Chapter 8

  “Lucien? What are you doing here?”

  He steps inside, not bothering to wait for an invitation, and heads for the couch, plopping himself down like a ragdoll. “Mattie, you have to help me. I miss my family. I miss Desi. I need them back.”

  “This isn’t the best time, Lucien,” I say, shooting a wary glance toward the bathroom door. What will Hurley do? I know he’s on the other side of the door listening. He has to know it won’t take Lucien long to figure out Hurley is here given that his car is parked outside. Lucien may be annoying, but he isn’t stupid.

  “You have to help me, Mattie. I can’t go on.”

  I’ve never seen Lucien like this. He’s always been confident and self-assured despite being irritating as hell. Now he looks like a man defeated, ready to give up. It makes my heart ache. If I have any doubts about how down he really is, they are eliminated when Hurley steps out of the bathroom and Lucien simply acknowledges him with a nod and a “Hey, Hurley.”

  I’m really worried. The Lucien I know would never let a moment like this go by without making a crass remark. I close the door and go sit on the couch beside him; Hurley settles into a chair on Lucien’s other side.

  “Shouldn’t you be with your clients?” I ask Lucien.

  “Irene and Bjorn went home. They know not to talk to the cops unless I’m there.” He shoots a glance at Hurley. “No offense.”

  “None taken.”

  “Irene seems to think I need to represent all the patients in that place, but unless they contact me and ask for representation, they’re on their own. I don’t think any of them need a lawyer, anyway. It’s just as well if they don’t. I can’t seem to focus with all this stuff that’s going on between me and Desi.”

  “What exactly is going on?” I ask.

  “I screwed up,” Lucien says. “I’ve been working a lot, picking up any case I can get. It’s kept me at the office late and forced me to go in on the weekends. I haven’t been getting much sleep and then I forgot our anniversary. Desi might have forgiven me that one transgression, but then I missed Erika’s play, and Ethan got some award at school and I missed that, too. Hell, I don’t even know what the award was for.” He shakes his head in dismay, stares at the floor, and sighs.

  I’m puzzled because based on what I know of my sister, none of this sounds like separation material.

  Lucien clarifies things by adding, “Your sister thought I missed all those events because I was having an affair.”

  “Were you? Are you?” I ask.

  He scoffs. “Like I could ever love anyone else the way I love her.”

  His words come across with surprising sincerity and I’m touched and a little envious.

  Lucien raises his head and looks at me. There are tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “I know what everyone else thinks of me. That whole boorish act with the sleazy banter, and the offensive attitude, that’s my thing, my shtick. It keeps people on edge and off balance.”

  He’s right about that.

  “It distracts people from what I’m really up to and it enables me to move in for the kill before anyone even knows there’s a viable threat. It’s p
art of why I’m so successful. Desi has always been able to see through all that. She knows me deep down inside. She knows a part of me that no one else does. And that knowledge, that security of knowing I have Desi at home waiting for me every night is another key to my success. I can’t bear the thought of disappointing her and that’s why I’ve been working so much extra, and staying in the office late at night. That’s what had Desi thinking I might be stepping out on her, but I never have and never would do that to her.”

  “Tell her that,” I say.

  “I did. And I think she knows now that I’m not cheating on her. But it’s the other stuff. She’s just so angry with me. You have to help me, Mattie. Help her understand how much I need her and love her. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

  “Lucien, I’ll do what I can, but I’m still confused as to exactly what the problem is. And you have to understand that my allegiance will always be first and foremost to my sister.”

  He nods. “I wouldn’t expect anything less of you, Mattie.”

  “Is it all the hours you’re working that’s the problem ? Can you cut back some?”

  “Cutting back isn’t an option right now, and anyway, it’s not the extra hours that have her upset.”

  “Then what is it?” I ask, thoroughly confused.

  Lucien gives me a sheepish look. “It’s embarrassing. I can’t believe I was so stupid.”

  The possibilities are mind-boggling, knowing Lucien as I do. I use that fact to try to reassure him. “Lucien, I promise you that whatever you did, I am imagining things that are a whole lot worse.” I pray that this is true. “So just tell me.”

  He considers this, looks from me to Hurley and back to me again, and then hangs his head. “It started a couple years ago. I was doing pretty well investing on my own in the stock market and when some of my clients found out about it, they asked me to invest some money for them, too. I agreed to do it, charged a nominal fee, made them a decent profit, and word spread. Before I knew it, I had a couple dozen people who were giving me money to invest and the sums were getting bigger and bigger. It was a nice little side business for a while. Then the stock market turned on me and I started losing.”

  Hurley wrinkles his brow and scratches his head. “Well, aside from functioning as a financial investor without a license, which may or may not be a crime, what’s the problem? Lots of people lose money in the stock market.”

  Lucien grimaces. “It wasn’t a lot at first and I felt pretty bad about betraying the trust of the people who had faith in me. So instead of telling them about the losses, I covered them.”

  “Covered them with what?” I ask.

  “Our savings.”

  With that answer, I begin to see the light of Lucien’s darkness.

  “I also put more of my own money into the market thinking that if I could just find the right mix, I’d be able to make up my clients’ losses as well as my own. Desi and I had quite a bit saved up so I figured we could afford it, and sooner or later I’d be able to replace it and then some, once I got a better handle on the current whims of the market. But it seemed like every strategy I tried was doomed and the losses just kept piling up. Eventually, they got so big I couldn’t tell my investors because I’d all but wiped them out. For some of those folks, it’s all they have. It’s money they’re counting on for their retirement.”

  “How much of your own money did you spend, Lucien?” Hurley asks.

  Lucien looks down at the floor and shakes his head again. “Between losing investments of my own and covering those of my clients . . . all of it,” he says, looking glum. “There’s nothing left. Plus my business hit a slump for a few months so there wasn’t much coming in and I fell behind on all the bills. Desi found out when she took Erika and some of her friends out for an afternoon at the movies and the car got repo’d right in front of them. After Desi got herself and all the kids home, she went to the bank and found out all our money was gone. She confronted me that night when I got home and I told her what happened. She threw me out of the house and she’s still so angry she won’t speak to me. Erika won’t either. She says I humiliated her in front of all her friends.”

  “Well, hell, Lucien, can you blame them?” I ask him. “Why on earth didn’t you tell Desi what was going on in the beginning?”

  Lucien slumps into a sad, pathetic ball of crushed human being. “I didn’t think I’d have to. I was sure the losses were temporary and that I’d be able to make them back. Desi has always trusted me with that stuff. She’s always admired my ability to make money, through work and through investing. I didn’t want to let her down.” He looks away from me and wipes at the tears welling in his eyes. “I didn’t think I could bear to see the disappointment on her face when she looked at me. And I was right.”

  My heart squeezes in sympathy with Lucien’s pain. I now have a better understanding of just what it was my sister saw in Lucien all those years ago and likely still sees in him today. His love for her couldn’t be more obvious.

  “Do your clients know?” Hurley’s tone is gentle. Much as he hates Lucien, even he can see the man is utterly defeated.

  Lucien shakes his head. There follows a silence of perhaps twenty seconds’ duration, and Hurley and I are aware that on a normal day, Lucien would have managed to squeeze in at least two, maybe three crass remarks in that period of time. Instead, he is just sitting there staring forlornly at his feet.

  The silence is finally broken by the buzz of Hurley’s phone.

  “Give me some time and I’ll see what I can do,” I tell Lucien as Hurley takes out his phone. He doesn’t take the call, however.

  “Will you talk to your sister?” Lucien pleads. “Tell her I’m lost without her? I love that woman more than anything in the world. I don’t know what I’ll do if she doesn’t take me back. I can’t eat, I can’t focus; I haven’t slept more than a wink in days. I just lay there night after night, staring at the ceiling.”

  “Maybe you should try counting sheep,” Hurley offers.

  I shoot him a look of horror and shake my head. Even with this toned-down version of Lucien, I don’t think the inclusion of farm animals in his bedtime rituals is a good idea.

  “I’ll talk to Desi,” I tell Lucien. “But I can’t make any promises. Desi has always been her own person and she’s entitled to be extremely pissed off with you right now. I can’t guess how long it will take for her to get over it, assuming she ever does.”

  “I know that,” Lucien says with a sniffle. Then he does a classic Lucien move by wiping his nose on his sleeve. “I just thank you for trying.”

  “In the meantime, what’s the situation on your bills? I can help you out.”

  I’m excited that I have the financial means to help my family, but I’m also cursing myself for my gambling fetish. I’ve managed to lose more than half of my divorce settlement. I realize my gambling problem isn’t any better than what Lucien did except that the only money I lost was my own. Still, I have my job back and close to two hundred grand still in the bank, which ought to be enough to buy Desi and Lucien some time.

  Lucien stares at me blankly, and I’m not sure if he doesn’t know the answer to my question or if he just doesn’t want to say it. So I dig my checkbook out of my purse and write him out a check for twenty grand. “Will this be enough for you to get by on for now?” I ask him, tearing the check out and walking over to hand it to him.

  He takes the check and stares at it for several long seconds. Then he lunges up from his seat and grabs me before I know what he’s doing. “Mattiekins, you are the best!” He gives me several pumping squeezes that I guess are meant to be hugs and kisses me on the cheek. It’s all I can do not to reach up and wipe it off with my hand. When Lucien finally releases me and dashes out the door, I give in to the urge and swipe a hand across my cheek.

  I look over at Hurley. “Interesting.”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t suppose he realized there was anything going on with us, do you?” />
  “I doubt it. He seemed pretty caught up in his own problems.”

  “I hope so. We dodged a bullet here, Hurley. We can’t let that happen again.”

  He rises from his chair and starts walking toward me. “No, we can’t.”

  “We have to be careful not to let our hormones call the shots,” I say as he closes in.

  “Yes, we do,” he agrees, so close that I can feel his breath warm on my face.

  “So, no more hanky-panky, right?” I’m barely able to get the words out because I’m suddenly breathless.

  “None at all.” Hurley bends forward and gives me a light kiss on the lips.

  Chapter 9

  Fifteen minutes later, we are again lying on my bed in a state of exhausted pleasure and dishabille. So much for convictions.

  “What are we doing, Hurley?”

  “Something that feels really, really good,” he says with a dumb-assed grin.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Let’s not analyze it. I say we just put it behind us and move on. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  I don’t think either one of us truly believes this. We reassemble our clothing and actually make it out of the house and into Hurley’s car. Our drive is made in silence, but it’s a comfortable one, reminiscent of the old days before our lives got so tangled.

  Bernard Chase’s address is a few miles outside of town, five acres of land that was once part of a farm that was sold off in chunks, some of which became private property, and some of which became a new golf course. Bernard’s house is a pretentious spread with stone facades, solar panels, professional landscaping as far as the eye can see, and a hammered copper roof atop an out-of-place cupola perched on one corner of a humongous wraparound porch. There is an attached three-car garage and while I can see the upper part of a boat through the window of one bay, I can’t tell from the front drive if there is a car in either bay. Hurley parks us right in front of the mansion-style, crescent-shaped concrete stairs going up to the porch. As we get out of his car, an overweight hound dog whose ears drag on the ground comes waddling around the far right corner of the house. He lets out one baying woof that might be a warning or a greeting and then he stops to stare at us.