Past, Present And A Future. Janice Carter

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ sister, who wasn’t taking the hint. “I know that sounds indiscreet, but the whole business has been resurrected anyway by the article in today’s paper.”

      “What article?” Laura asked.

      Jeff Withers’s flushed and eager face rose before Clare. I knew that was going to come back to haunt me. “The one I mentioned at dinner last night,” Clare said. “My interview with Jeff Withers.”

      Laura blinked. “What did he write? Do you have the paper here?”

      “No,” Anne-Marie said, “we left it in the motel. Don’t you get it delivered?”

      “Not anymore, but get to the point—what did he write?”

      Anne-Marie’s eyes flicked from Laura to Clare. “He was supposed to be interviewing you about your book, right?”

      Clare nodded.

      “But most of the article is a rehash about the Rina Thomas murder. He basically came right out and said that the whole story is right in your novel. Is that true?”

      “Of course not! I’ve drawn on some of my experiences growing up here. Writers do that, you know. And there is a death in my novel, but an accidental one. The circumstances are very different,” she added.

      Anne-Marie shrugged. “The article suggests there’s a parallel between your novel and what really happened. Withers plays up the notion that the death in your book may have been murder, too.”

      “This is so frustrating,” Clare said. “What kind of journalist is he?”

      “Clare, you need to read the article. He even mentioned your own connection to the Rina Thomas case. He implied you had inside information about the actual murder and used some of it in your book.”

      Fighting to keep her voice even, Clare said, “That’s ridiculous!”

      “I think it’s time to cut the cake and bring out the lunch stuff,” Laura cheerily interjected.

      “I need to use the washroom,” Clare mumbled and charged blindly through the crowded living room and up the stairs.

      Someone was already in the bathroom and Clare sagged against the wall outside, gulping in oxygen. The door opened and Gil Harper was suddenly standing next to her, his hand on her arm.

      “Clare? What’s wrong? You look upset.”

      She closed her eyes. Of all the luck.

      “Please don’t say nothing is wrong,” he went on. “I’ve a lot of weaknesses, but stupidity isn’t one of them.”

      That drew a faint smile. “No, stupidity was never one.” She hesitated, then admitted, “Just something Laura’s sister said. About that damn newspaper interview.”

      His brow furled for an instant, then cleared. “Ah, yes. You were talking about it last night. What did the guy do? Trash your book?”

      “If only. I could have handled that. No, he…uh, he tried to link my plot to Rina Thomas’s murder.” Her eyes shifted briefly to the framed print on the opposite wall. He was quiet for so long she thought he wouldn’t respond. But to his credit, he didn’t evade the issue now that it was out in the open.

      “But aren’t the story lines somewhat similar?”

      It was a fair question from Gil, someone briefly connected to the murder, and he deserved frankness. “When I wrote the novel,” she began, “my intention was to tell a story about growing up in a small town. I lived in the South for a few years after graduation and grew to love the people and their generous hospitality. That’s the reason I set the novel in the South.”

      “What were you doing down there?”

      “Teaching in a four-room country school.” She smiled, thinking how naive and inexperienced she’d been.

      “Quite a challenge,” he said. “How long were you there?”

      “Four years. Then I went back home to New Jersey for a bit and did some substitute teaching while I took postgrad courses to get my masters.”

      “A masters in English lit, I bet.”

      She nodded. “That’s when I started writing. I was inspired by what I was learning, I suppose.” Though she knew otherwise. More like inspired by demons that wouldn’t leave me alone.

      One of the guests appeared on the landing, searching for the bathroom. Gil clasped Clare’s elbow and pulled her aside. “Can we politely make our excuses, do you think, and leave the party early? I’d like to talk to you some more about what you’ve been doing with your life.”

      She hesitated only for a fraction of a second. There was the risk of delving into the past with Gil, she realized, but at the same time she was enjoying talking to him. “All right. Laura said they’d decided against speeches or anything formal. There’ll be a toast to Emma and as godparents, we’ll have to be present for that. And she’ll be upset if we don’t have any of the lunch.”

      “True. How about if I meet you outside on the front porch after the toast and a bite to eat?”

      “Okay. I’ll look for you there.”

      He nodded, turned and headed back down the stairs. Clare stared at his retreating back. What had she just gotten herself into?

      The bathroom door opened again and Clare, smiling at the woman exiting, took her turn. By the time she’d refreshed and was back downstairs, people were congregating in the dining room around the table, now laden with food.

      Dave stood at the entrance to the dining room with Laura and Emma beside him. Gil was off to the side. When Dave spotted Clare, he addressed the guests. “Does everyone have a glass of something for a toast? Laura and I want to thank all of you for coming to share this very special day with us. It’s even more special with the presence of family and old friends.” He smiled directly at Clare and Gil. Then, raising his wineglass, he said, “Join us in wishing Emma a healthy, safe and long life.”

      Everyone raised their glasses and said, “To Emma.”

      Dave raised his glass a second time. “And to our dear friends—Clare Morgan and Gil Harper—Emma’s godparents. Thank you both and God bless.”

      Clare felt her face heat up as all eyes turned her way. As soon as the toast was finished, she set her wineglass down and, paper plate in hand, picked a couple of morsels from the buffet table. Then she moved toward Laura, who was passing Emma to her mother.

      “Do you mind if I leave early, Laura? I’ve a headache coming on and Gil suggested a walk to get some fresh air.”

      “Are you upset because of what Anne-Marie said? ’Cause I’m sorry, Clare. You know how she is. She didn’t mean any harm.”

      “No, no. I know Anne-Marie too well to take her the wrong way. But I have the signing tomorrow in Hartford and I’m still a bit tired from the one yesterday.” Her voice trailed off. Laura was too smart to be fooled by such lame excuses but she didn’t say anything. Clare popped an olive into her mouth.

      “Can СКАЧАТЬ