Dead Man Docking - Mary Daheim [91]
“Oh,” Renie said. “But,” she went on, “Horace is rich enough to sink his money into corks and sponges.”
Rick’s expression didn’t change. “Perhaps.”
“I find this all really creepy,” Renie declared. “Or maybe I should say sordid. How does a seemingly gentle soul like Anemone Giddon float through these polluted waters?”
“Erma’s very protective,” Rhoda replied. “Anemone has gone to private schools, would-be suitors are thoroughly investigated, and she rarely goes anywhere without her mother. You can imagine what Jim Brooks has endured.”
Judith poured more soda into her glass. “I gather that Jim isn’t from a wealthy family. How did he make the cut?”
“A good question,” Rhoda said. “Jim’s family used to be moderately well off. Unfortunately, they made some foolish investments in Silicon Valley-dot.com stocks that collapsed about four years ago. His father died not long after that, and his mother is a victim of early Alzheimer’s disease. She’s in a home near Walnut Creek. Jim had always wanted to be a doctor, but the money simply wasn’t there. About that time he met Anemone at the wedding of mutual friends. They began seeing each other and eventually became engaged.”
“But, I assume,” Judith interjected, “only after Erma had thoroughly investigated him.”
“That’s right,” Rhoda affirmed. “Erma didn’t like the idea that Jim’s family had become poor because of bad judgment, but she tried not to hold the sins of the father against the son. She agreed to pay Jim’s way through Stanford, but only on the understanding that the couple wouldn’t marry until he finished medical school.”
“An offer Jim couldn’t refuse,” Rick remarked.
Judith nodded. “I assume that Jim and Anemone are deeply in love?”
Rhoda was quick to catch the skepticism in Judith’s voice. “You think not?”
But Judith merely shrugged. “These people seem more motivated by money than emotion.”
Rick chuckled. “I was motivated by both. I certainly wouldn’t have married Rhoda if she’d been—excuse the expression—poor.”
Judith glanced at Rhoda to see if she’d taken offense. But she hadn’t.
“Of course not, darling,” she said. “If I’d been poor, I’d have been a completely different person. Not to mention that I wouldn’t have looked half so enticing. Money may not buy beauty, but it certainly can enhance one’s natural endowments.”
Again, Judith considered telling the St. Georges about Anemone’s strange request for an alibi. And again she decided not to say anything until she knew the reason for the young woman’s behavior. Instead, she asked about Ambrose Everhart’s background.
Rhoda responded, but only after allowing Rick to refresh her cocktail. “As you can imagine, Erma has had problems keeping hired help. She pays fairly well, but she’s so hard to please. Ambrose has been her secretary for about a year. Previously, he’d been working for some environmental agency. I understand he wasn’t keen on leaving that job because he’s very conscientious about the environment, but such organizations have to keep a lid on salaries. The money tempted him, and because of Erma’s social and civic obligations, Ambrose has sufficient spare time to still take part in issue-oriented concerns.”
“Does he have a social life?” Renie asked.
“Not much time for that,” Rick said, between puffs on his cigarette. He blew a few more smoke rings. Rhoda waited a moment, and then did the same. Her smaller rings drifted through Rick’s larger ones. It was obviously a trick they had taught themselves by long practice. It occurred to Judith that there was something romantic—if unhealthful—about the stunt. The St. Georges seemed to be perfectly attuned to each other.
For a moment, Judith reflected on a different domestic situation, the more dysfunctional relationships inside the Pacific Heights mansion. “Propinquity,” she finally murmured. “Is it possible that Ambrose might have fallen in love with Anemone?