Dying for Chocolate

I said, “You got pregnant.”

Her eyes wandered back to me. “Yes. After I’d invested in the Meadowview area of Aspen Meadow Country Club. I was the first one to buy a two-acre homesite, and Brian was the second, buying the parcel right next to mine. Forever together, he’d said. He also said he wanted to get the ball rolling for the business. He wanted to be able to say, We’ve had some sales but there are a few parcels left. I kept thinking he would ask me to marry him. . . . He said he wasn’t ready.

“When I was four months along and unable to hide the pregnancy any longer, I left and went down to Utah. To collect pottery and whatnot,” she said with another hideous laugh and wave. “But really it was to have a baby and arrange a private adoption in Bluff. I found out about a Navajo woman who had married an Anglo. The Anglo was opening a candy store. They had been unable to have children. When you have money,” she said with a sniff, “you can arrange adoptions any way you want.”

I nodded and looked around. I had not seen Schulz for a while and was worried. Perhaps the general was awake. But Schulz could take care of himself; I couldn’t risk Adele shutting down on me. I stayed put.

“If you arranged to have the adoption done,” I said, still preoccupied with thoughts of Schulz, “why did you arrange to have it undone?”

“It fell into place. I thought, again foolishly, that it was for a reason. Bo’s adoration embarrassed me terribly. I hated Washington and was all too glad to move out here once the Pentagon forced Bo’s retirement. I had the land; I’d never sold it. And then I felt such a strong pull, to see Brian again, to live next door . . . and I thought maybe if I could get Julian here, that we could—” She broke off, lost in reverie.

“You were the one who said you can’t go back.”

“I know,” she said, her voice shrill, “don’t I? So much work, so many preparations. Arranging the scholarship for Julian when I found out that the boarding department at Elk Park Prep was about to close down. Building this house next to Brian and that inane woman, Weezie!” She spat out the name, then softened. “And Julian. God, Julian.” She broke off then and stared at the fireplace in a way that seemed to signal the end of the conversation.

I remembered her words: Whatever you do for your children, they don’t appreciate you.

And then it all fell into place. A wave of cold fear swept over me. She was the one. I thought I’d needed her information to finger Weezie or the general or even Sissy. I was wrong.

I said, “You tried to seduce Brian again, didn’t you? By the pool. I heard you splashing around. But he showed an unhealthy sexual attraction for Sissy instead. That must have made you furious. The general loved you, but it wasn’t enough. And . . . you’re the one who started the rumor about Weezie sleeping with Philip Miller. Yes?”

She sucked in a sob and pursed her lips, then opened reddened eyes and nodded. Proudly, I thought. And then the full force of what she could have done struck me. I thought of the calendar in Philip’s office. She had had one of the last appointments with him.

I said, “You went to see Philip Miller. Because Julian was living with you and having problems, Philip had called you. He must have wanted to see you and the general together.” She did not move. I wasn’t even sure she was listening. “But you went alone, because of what you were afraid would come out. Philip told you Julian wanted to research who his biological parents were. You must have told him the truth.”

Her eyes blazed. “Yes, I told Philip Miller the truth,” she said fiercely. “I didn’t want to, but he just kept egging me on with all his questions, just like you are now. How did we come to have Julian in our house? he wanted to know. How were we relating to him? How did he think I was going to relate to my own son whom I hadn’t seen since birth?” Her face contorted. “And I said the biological father, Brian Harrington, had shown no interest in his son. I said I wanted to kill Brian Harrington. I had learned about getting things on the black market from Bo. I’d gotten Spanish fly and I was going to use it, because so many women had wanted Brian to love them. It would serve him right.”

“But Philip took it from you—”

“Yes, he took it! He threatened to call the police right away if I didn’t give it to him. Said I needed help, and that he was going to have to notify Brian that his life was in danger.” She smiled. “But he didn’t get my whole supply of Spanish fly. And the black market wasn’t the only thing I’d learned from Bo. After I’d seen Philip Miller, later that afternoon, I created a distraction. Pretended I’d left my cane in his office. The receptionist went to look for it and I memorized Miller’s calendar. I knew I’d have to act quickly before he turned me in. The eye doctor appointment was perfect.”