Tyler gave her a spontaneous hug. “Daddy said we can visit you again. Right? Can we?”
“Of course you can.” She got up and left the boys to play with the dogs. “Handsome pups.” She kissed her grandmother on the cheek. She looked both regal and disapproving. “I hear you’ve been chatting with the police chief.”
“I don’t know where to begin,” she said, closing the door. “The police, Maxine!”
“Kimberly overreacted,” Max said.
“You know better than to talk to that woman,” she said. “After the scandal—you should never have been there. You’re lucky she didn’t insist on having you arrested.”
Max laughed. She couldn’t help it. “Scandal?” They weren’t talking about Lindy’s murder. They were talking about what had happened three years before that. “Really, Grandmother. Are affairs even scandalous anymore?”
Eleanor reddened. “What are you doing here?”
“William invited me to dinner.”
“You know what I mean.”
Eleanor was seventy-nine, but looked and sounded a decade younger, owing her health to remaining active and eating properly. But suddenly she looked weary, and Max felt a pang of guilt for putting the age on her grandmother’s face.
“When I arrived yesterday morning, I had no intention of opening an investigation into Lindy’s death,” Max said as they stepped back into the library. “Circumstances have changed.”
Eleanor didn’t say anything. Brooks was there, but his wife was not. William glared at her, and the intake in Caitlin’s breath sounded rehearsed. Eleanor crossed to the bar and mixed herself a martini. Max waited for her to finish straining the chilled alcohol into her glass. But she didn’t sip.
“William,” Eleanor said, “take your wife to the dining room.”
“But—” Caitlin began. William grabbed her by the arm and half dragged her out. He closed the library doors behind him.
“Grandmother, I don’t think this is your business.” She looked at Brooks who stood like the Tin Man in the corner. “Nor yours, Uncle Brooks.”
“Anything that touches my family is my business.” Eleanor picked up her drink and took a long sip. She crossed to the windows and looked out into the lit backyard. “When I heard Mr. O’Neal committed suicide, I feared you’d do exactly what you’re doing.”
“Kevin didn’t kill Lindy.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“You were always overly confident,” Brooks said.
“Why don’t you join William and Caitlin in the dining room?” Max said, mimicking her grandmother.
“Watch your tongue, Maxine.”
“Don’t start with me, Brooks.” She wished her grandmother would send him packing, because his presence was making the entire situation worse that it would have been.
Instead, Eleanor ignored the exchange as if it were between two of her children. “Let’s assume that he didn’t kill poor Lindy,” she said. “What good could come from digging into the past? What do you hope to accomplish?”
Max was perplexed on how to answer her grandmother’s question. “Isn’t the truth a good enough reason?”
Eleanor turned to face her. With her chin up she said, “No.”
“I think it is.”
“I don’t think it’s the truth you’re after.”
“I’m always after the truth.”
Brooks stepped forward. “You simply want to embarrass me, embarrass the family.”
Max said to Brooks, “You? Yes.” She shouldn’t have. She should have bitten her tongue, but Brooks always brought out the worst in her. She said to her grandmother, “My goal is not to embarrass anyone.”
“Being called by the chief of police is embarrassment enough! But you go beyond the pale. Dredging up the past, hurting people, digging around into other people’s business.”
Max laughed. “You’re one to talk.”
Her grandmother looked grossly offended. “I don’t gossip.”
“No, but you use information to your advantage.”
“To protect my family when necessary. That includes you, Maxine.”
“I don’t need your protection, Grandmother.”
“I wasn’t going to let you go to jail.” Her voice cracked, just a bit, but Max realized that Eleanor was worried about her fate. They had rough patches—many—but Max understood Eleanor. Too well.
“I appreciate that, really, and you know I love you.” Family was complicated. She could be so angry with them, with one or all of them, but she still loved them. Her grandparents had treated her the same as William and all her other cousins. She would never forget that. But that didn’t mean she was going to let her grandmother cover up a crime.
“Kimberly called the police out of spite,” Max said. “She doesn’t like me, and it has less to do with Kevin than it does with me exposing her infidelity—”
She looked pointedly at Brooks. Then she smiled.
He took a step toward her and raised his hand.
Hit me. Please hit me.
“Brooks!” Eleanor said.
He turned around and drained his Scotch before pouring a double.
“Hypocrite,” Max said to him. “You’re just mad that Aunt Joanne walked out and Kimberly’s husband forgave her. She probably told him it was just you—while you couldn’t very well tell Aunt Joanne that Kimberly was the only woman you screwed—”
“Maxine! Enough!” Eleanor crossed over to her, put a hand on her shoulder. “You need to stop.”
She took a deep breath. Brooks always did that to her. Brought out her cruel streak.
“I don’t know why Kimberly called the police,” Max said slowly. “There was no reason to, other to intentionally try to embarrass our family. Besides, I can take care of myself, I’ve been a reporter for a long time.”
Eleanor winced when Max said reporter.
“You’re going to damage our family,” Brooks said, his voice vibrating in anger.
“Did someone in our family kill Lindy?”
Her grandmother gasped audibly. “Of course not!”
Brooks added, “This has nothing to do with murder. Leave this alone.”