Proverbs 2:11
Monday 19th November: Sean Hartnett pushed the weights alternately, punching at the ceiling with slow deliberation. He wasn't counting. Alicia White did that for him. "OK Sean. That's enough."
He sat up slowly then replaced the weights.
"You have a great torso Sean. But your legs are weak. We should work on your legs."
"Yeh," Sean smiled. "Not sure I care about having fucken' great legs." He looked appraisingly at his trainer, "You on the other hand."
Alicia White knew she looked good for her age. And she liked the compliment, which she ignored. "Time to stretch. Right leg first."
Sean obeyed, leaning forward, one leg folded, one stretched right back, mimicking her. "Great hair Alicia. New color is it?"
Alicia smiled back. "Auburn highlights." She switched legs. "Yeh I like it." Then she paused. "You OK Sean?"
"I guess." To change the subject he said, "Whaddayou hear about Angie and Baxter Merill?"
Alicia nodded. "They broke up. Shame really. But you could see it coming." She looked at Sean. He was still stretching. She appraised his strong arms like a professional craftsman. "All my own work," she thought. "Rest a minute," she said.
Sean took the cue and lay flat on his back on the matting, his hands folded behind his head, as if he might be about to do sit-ups.
"Sad about Maria though. Getting herself murdered. Such a sweet girl too. I can't see anyone wanting to kill her."
"You don't talk with your daughter then?"
Alicia's cheeks coloured. "Well, yes, I guess. But not in the past few days. Not since Maria's death."
"Ah." Sean closed his eyes. "Then you wouldn't know?"
"Know what?"
"That someone's written an anonymous letter accusing my Trish of having something to do with it."
"That's ridiculous."
"Course it is. More likely to be Vicky Walters."
Alicia White's grey-blue eyes widened in astonishment. She sank to the floor conspiratorially, then propped her back against the workout bench. "What did you say?"
"More likely to be Vicky Walters." Sean's eyes were closed still. He had a world-weary mien to his face. "She moved in with Baxter before the dust was settled, almost as soon as Angie moved out."
Alicia was genuinely amazed. "But she's young enough to be his daughter."
Sean opened his eyes, his old boyish smile back for the first time this morning. "Since when did that stop anyone?"
Alicia didn't want to go there. "Who'd want to send those letters though - about your Trish?"
"Letters? Plural?"
Alicia blushed again. "Dona sometimes tells me things. I knew there'd been one letter - about the Bob Young killing. I didn't know there'd been another."
Sean looked at her. "I swear Alicia. If I knew who was sending those anonymous letters . . ." He took his right hand from behind his head, holding it high, clenching it first into a claw, then a fist, so tight that the veins bulged. "Y'unnerstand?"
Alicia winced. "I still can't see it. Any of it. I mean Vicky Walters isn't capable of killing Maria. Nor is Trish. Neither of them could have done it."
"N'maybe it was Baxter who killed Maria."
"And why would he do that?"
Sean's eyes narrowed. "That one never could keep his pants buttoned. He hits on everything in a skirt. Bet he tried to give it to Maria and she turned him down."
"That's no reason to kill her."
"Huh?" Sean smiled. "Maybe," he said. "Since you know so much about everything tell me this: Who would have pretended to be my wife, used her credit card and licence to hire that Hummer?"
"Can't say it makes any sense. It'd have to be someone who knows her wouldn't you think?"
"Maybe." Sean paused. "You know this all links back to Mary Young's suicide."
Alicia raised an eyebrow, "You sure?"
"Uh huh. Sure I'm sure." He looked at her then, square in the face. "And you know what?"
"What?"
"I know why she killed herself."
"How could you possibly know any such thing?"
"I know 'cause Trish told me something."
"What would Trish know about it?"
"She was friendly with Mary."
"Mary was my age."
"Uh huh. So? We are friends aren't we? Being a different age is no big deal. And Trish and Mary had that church thing in common."
"Oh."
"Yeh. My sentiments."
"So?"
"So her youngest girl, Jenny."
"Yup."
"Mary told Trish she wasn't Bob's child."
Alicia somehow managed to close her mouth which was wide open in astonishment. "That's ridiculous. Not Mary Young. Anyone else I'd believe it." Then Alicia laughed. "Not pure butter-wouldn't-melt Mary?"
Sean nodded. "She was afraid Bob would find out."
"If he hadn't found out all these years, how'd she think he'd find out now?"
"She didn't say."
"And so did she say who's child it was?"
Sean looked up and smiled.
Alicia almost shrieked. "Whose? You're gonna tell Sean Hartnett!"
"You'll keep it quiet? You won't let on?"
"On my mother's grave."
"You won't even let on to your daughter?"
"Cross my heart and hope to die."
Sean leaned in close so his nose almost touched hers. His eyes narrowed, almost cold. And he told her. "Baxter Merill," he said. "It was that sonofabitch Baxter."
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