The Girl in the Green Raincoat_ A Novel - Laura Lippman [29]
“And I wouldn’t wish him on her. But that would be enough to get her here, and let me lay out my ideas about what really happened to Carole. We’ll call her, say that Carole left something in our care and that we have instructions to turn it over to her. But what do you think we’ll gain by talking to Ethel face-to-face?”
“You are really getting slow. Are you sure your brain function is okay? She’s Carole’s in-case-of-emergency person. Here’s our emergency.”
“I think that applies more to workplace accidents,” Tess said. “But, okay, I get it. She can turn up the heat, put forward a sympathetic version of Carole in opposition to the bitch-stole-my-money portrait that Epstein has painted. You are pretty smart. Taste in diaper bags aside.”
“Trust me, I picked the best one.”
* * *
Ethel Zimmerman sounded extremely frail on the phone, an elderly woman with a hoarse, wispy voice that Tess could barely hear. Still, she didn’t hesitate when asked if she would come to Baltimore to talk about Carole; Tess didn’t even need to dangle the bait of Dempsey. Mrs. Zimmerman did ask if their meeting could wait until the next afternoon—she confessed that she found traffic terrifying after four o’clock—and Tess, her heart full of sympathy for the older woman, said that it could.
The next day, Crow cleaned up the house before leaving for work, then made sure the door was unlocked so Tess wouldn’t make an unnecessary trip to the door. At noon—a full hour before Mrs. Zimmerman was expected—a sharp knock sounded, and Tess yelled, “Come in, I’m in the back.”
But could this be Mrs. Zimmerman? Tess’s guest—guests—were two forty-something woman with hard athletic builds and almost identical chin-length bobs. At first glance they appeared to be sisters. At second, Tess realized they simply had remarkably similar taste.
“Mrs. Zimmerman?”
The two women exchanged a look. “No, we’re—I’m Beth Angleton—”
“And I’m Liz Matthias.”
They looked at Tess expectantly, as if their names should explain everything.
“Um—”
“We’re May’s parents? Lloyd’s girlfriend?” Their level gazes, while not exactly judgmental, managed to convey that they would know instantly who Tess Monaghan was, if she had shown up, unannounced, at their home. I have preeclampsia, Tess wanted to say. I’m in the middle of a possible murder investigation, I’m a little distracted.
“Of course. Did Lloyd say you would be coming by? We’ve been—well, life—as you can see—” She indicated her bed, the dog, the room, her mound of a belly in hopes that these things would sum up the insanity that was her life. Thank God, Crow had cleaned the house and the chamber pot was empty.
“No, we didn’t tell Lloyd we were coming to meet with you,” said Beth. Or was it Liz? Were they both actually Elizabeth? Had they been forced to differentiate their nicknames to avoid confusion? “This is awkward, but—we’re really not happy with Lloyd as a companion for May.”
On her best day, Tess could come up with a dozen reasons why Lloyd wasn’t a fit companion for anyone. But that was her prerogative. How dare these oh-so-perfect, put-together mommies—they also wore complementary silver earrings and stunning designer glasses—imply that Lloyd wasn’t the right boyfriend for their precious May? She decided to put them on the defensive.
“Are we talking about race?”
“Of course not!” Beth and Liz chorused. Then Beth—or was it Liz?—added: “You can’t possibly think we’re bigoted.”
“Why not?” Tess challenged.
“We adopted a girl from China. Our own lives, our choices, have exposed us to—I won’t say as much prejudice as someone like Lloyd might have known, but it’s certainly made us sensitive to judging people according to external standards. We love Lloyd. He’s bright, curious. In the beginning, we thought he was a good influence on May.”
“So what’s your problem?” Tess asked. She didn’t mean it to sound quite so peevish and hostile, but—she was pregnant and stuck in this room. People had to grant her a little latitude, and not just on mood. She had to take sponge baths, for example.