The Marsh Madness

“Help yourself to anything anytime. That’s always been our way.”


“I’ll bring back the diamond earrings after the event tonight. It’s an opening at an art gallery.”

“An art gallery, my girl?” He brightened.

“Conceptual art, I think.”

“You can keep it.”

“No, thanks. So I have to look good but not at all like myself. What do you think?” I examined my reflection in the mirror. I didn’t know how I felt about being a blonde. Although I’d always liked the flame-red wig, I was happy with what I saw. There wasn’t a glimpse of my dark, curly hair. And my pale skin was fine with the spun pale yellow of the wig. The earrings, small as they were, seemed to make quite a difference. I’d never given a moment’s thought to diamonds, but already I could feel their emotional pull.

“You’ll be the belle of the ball. But you’re looking a bit peaky. How about a bite to eat? I can whip up a pot of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese as quick as you can say ‘diamond studs.’”

“No, thanks, Uncle Mick.”

“I can fry up some baloney.”

“Um, no, I’m good.”

“Beans and franks?” This is Uncle Mick’s signature dish (secret ingredient: ketchup).

“Thanks so much, but Lance took me to lunch.” There was no point in explaining the dining experience we’d had at Mr. Grimsby’s. It would only alarm Uncle Mick.

“Lance? Well, I hope there was something on the plate. That fella’s a bit too fancy for my liking.”

“The lunch was great. I think I’ll head out now.”

“Take the new Beamer,” he said, magnanimously. “Arrive in style.”

A Beamer as well as an Infiniti? Things must be going well. “Don’t mind if I do.” A BMW would be perfect. I didn’t ask where the new cars had come from. Discretion is the better part of valor, as they say. “By the way, any word on legal help for Vera and Kev?”

“That’s right, my girl. Talked to a fella named Cory Corrigan for our Kev. He’s as good as they come and not too uptight, if you know what I mean. And Laurence Sternberger for the Van Alst woman.”

The Van Alst woman? Uncle Mick has relented quite a bit about Vera and her family over the past year, but this sounded like his old attitude resurfacing.

“And is he as good as they come too? Because Vera is absolutely innocent, and if the police come after her or us, she needs to be well taken care of.”

“He’s good for the job. But he’s a bit full of himself and on the pricey side. But I can’t say I’m happy about her dragging you into this mess, my girl.”

Only in the Kelly family could anyone construe what happened at Summerlea to be a case of Vera dragging me into a mess.

“He’ll be in touch,” Mick added. “Ready if she needs him.”

I was secure in the knowledge that we would all have lawyers who measured up.

Uncle Mick said, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that the so-called police officer engaged our Sammy for you. If it was anyone but Sammy, I’d think you could trust him as far as I could throw a piano.”

“But it was Sammy, and Tyler did call him for me.”

“My point, my girl, is that you have family to look after your legal issues. You don’t have to rely on the forces of—”

“Don’t say ‘darkness,’ Uncle Mick. Tyler wanted to help, even if he did dump me. And don’t even think of any kind of revenge.”

He puffed out his substantial chest. “The Kellys do not get dumped.”

“It must have been my Bingham side that took the hit, but you know, doing well is the best revenge, and tonight I’m going to this very special event with Lance.”

Uncle Mick glowered. “Don’t get too involved. I always wonder if he’s a bit light in the loafers.”

“I assure you his loafers are as heavy as yours, Mick. And who cares anyway?”

“Humph.”

“So, do I look okay?”

“You do the Kellys proud. The Binghams too, wherever they might be. You’re better with your own dark curls, but you’re still gorgeous, my girl.”