I was engrossed now. The sun was up, and I didn’t know if I would be late for work, but I didn’t care. “What did you do?”
“I told her I didn’t believe her. I told her that Julian had been murdered by a robber in a random home invasion. I told her that if she had killed Julian in hopes of getting his money, it would have been an awfully foolish move. Mariana had a nervous breakdown after Julian’s death and signed all of her affairs over to me. And I had no intention of submitting to blackmail, so Julian’s death would be for nothing—if, of course, she had actually killed him. Which, I said, I doubted.” He folded his hands over his cane. “It was a risky move, talking to her like that, but I’ve made risky moves all my life. I insulted her, but at the same time I gave her an out. She took it. She left, and I never saw her in person again.”
“But that wasn’t the last you heard of her.”
“No. But I don’t want to think about Lily anymore. She’s your problem now.” He pulled a sealed envelope from his leather satchel and handed it to me. “Here are some papers, the few that are left. Julian destroyed most of them. There are also some other things of my own that you need to read. Ask yourself why Beth has decided to tell everything now, after all of these years.”
“Why?” I asked, taking the envelope.
“There’s a reason behind everything Beth does,” Ransom said. “She hasn’t told me what the reason is, but I know there is one. I haven’t asked her about it. There are a lot of things I haven’t asked Beth about. I’ve survived this long and I’ve been as successful as I have, because I don’t ask about things I’d rather not know.”
I looked down at the envelope in my hand. “I don’t think I have that talent. Maybe I’d be better off if I did.”
“It’s time for it all to come out, I think,” Ransom said. “I don’t know why the time is now, but it is. Whatever you find, Shea, do me a favor and don’t tell me a damn thing.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
May 1973
BETH
Six weeks after Julian died, Beth did something she’d almost never done: She spent the day shopping with her mother.
Mariana had always been a shopper. It was her job: Buy nice things, then buy more nice things. Sometimes, like at Christmas, she’d be briefly excited about what she bought, but the rest of the time she shopped with a curious blankness, often forgetting about her purchases and leaving them piled in a corner, still in the shopping bags. Shopping certainly wasn’t a joyous mother-daughter activity, and as soon as Beth could drive she would take one of the family cars and go shopping for herself.
Since Julian’s death, things had spun out of control. Mariana drank nonstop; Beth drank almost as much. The two women wandered the house like ghosts, sometimes sleeping until noon, sometimes awake at four in the morning. Beth alternated between telling herself Lily hadn’t really killed Julian and freezing, mind-numbing fear. She wanted so badly to fix things for her mother, to make things right again. But already Beth knew that she wasn’t the one who made things right in bad situations; she was the one who somehow made things worse.
She had finished high school, which was meaningless. Why had she bothered? She wasn’t going to college. She wasn’t going to be a teacher or a nurse or a normal person. Her father’s business partners would take over his company, Greer Pharmaceuticals, though Beth would get a share of the profits for life.
She was supposed to marry Gray and be a society wife, but that was over, too. For six weeks, Beth stared at the nothingness of her future with helpless numbness, tempered with flashes of anger that only eased when she raided Mariana’s liquor cabinet again.
I should do something, Beth thought to herself over and over. But she couldn’t make herself do anything.
And then one day in May, the sun was shining and Mariana was temporarily sober. She put her hair up, put her makeup on, and said to Beth, “Let’s go shopping!”
Beth said yes.
They drove to the Edengate Plaza, a brand-new shopping center on the outskirts of Claire Lake. Mariana wore a long, draped dress and had tied a paisley scarf into her blond hair. Beth wore a ringer tee and high-waisted jeans, flip-flops, her hair down. The air was tinged with the first promise of summer, warmth edging into the cool dampness, almost hot under the direct sun and in the enclosed car. Beth felt her hangover drain away in the sunshine. Neil Diamond played on the radio as they drove.
“This is going to be so fun!” Mariana said, her voice bright.
Beth smiled tentatively at her mother, and she thought maybe it would be fun. The Edengate Plaza was new, still an exciting place to go. It was a long building of dusty brown brick, with a colonnade along one side roofed by dark brown siding. It was built for Claire Lake’s richer clientele, with fashion shoe stores, dress stores, and jewelry stores lining the colonnade. The sign in front showed a drawing of three hourglass women, in Chanel dresses and pillbox hats, strolling the colonnade in high heels, with the slogan the only shopping experience you need!
“Look, honey,” Mariana said, pointing at the sign as they parked. “It’s the only shopping experience we need!”
Beth laughed, more excited that Mariana had used the term of endearment than about the joke. She couldn’t remember the last time Mariana had called her that.
They joined the shoppers on the colonnade. They tried on shoes, dresses. Mariana bought a lipstick in deep, vibrant red, the kind of color you’d see on Marilyn Monroe or Hedy Lamarr. When Beth found a silk shawl that was the same red, Mariana cried out in excitement.
“You should buy that,” she said. “It’s perfect for you.”
“Do you think?” Beth asked.
“Oh, yes.” Mariana took the shawl, wound it over Beth’s shoulders, and stood back. “It’s beautiful. You look like a woman who can conquer anything.”
Beth didn’t feel like a woman who could conquer anything, but in that moment it didn’t matter. That was what Mariana saw when she looked at her, and it made her feel better than she had in weeks, maybe ever. She bought the shawl.
The few men at the Edengate Plaza looked at them that day. They looked at Mariana, beautiful and blond and pale, the scarf wound in her hair. They looked at Beth, nineteen and sultry without even trying. For once, Beth didn’t mind. It was nice to be looked at, to be admired. They ate hamburgers at the nearby burger place, and they shopped some more before finally going home.
And then, as they pulled into the driveway, Mariana cried out in joy: “Lily!”
Beth looked, and the coldness came back, the darkness starting to lower again. Because Lily was sitting on the front steps of the Greer mansion, wearing jeans and a poncho, waiting for them to come home. And Mariana’s joy wasn’t forced or false anymore. It was genuine.
Lily stood as Mariana got out of the car, closing the door behind her, forgetting her packages, forgetting Beth. She nearly ran toward her first daughter, and her expression lit up. She stopped a few feet short of Lily, unwilling to hug her, though clearly wishing to. Hugs repulsed Lily, so Mariana touched her lightly instead, brushing her fingertips over Lily’s shoulders, her face.
“You’re so thin,” Mariana said as Beth slowly got out of the car. Lily had lost weight. Her face was thin, and she wasn’t wearing any makeup. The poncho was worn and had holes at the seams, and Beth knew that part wasn’t a put-on; Lily must be broke. She herself hadn’t sent Lily any money in months.
“Where have you been?” Mariana was asking, too excited to wait for an answer. “You’ll have to tell me everything. Are you okay? I’ve been so worried about you. When did you get back?”
“This morning.” As Lily spoke, she looked past their mother at Beth, a smile in her eyes. We know a secret, that smile said.
She was ruining everything, everything. She was a monster. “Mother,” Beth said, holding Lily’s gaze.
“Beth, please.” Mariana barely glanced at her. To Lily she said, “Why don’t you come in? I’ll make you a lemonade.”