Tyler heard the distant sound of voices coming from the
living room and assumed his mother had company. His father couldn’t be in there
with her because when the two of them were in the same room, there was seldom
any conversation. “Who does Mom have over?” he asked Rosanne.
The intercom crackled. Tyler watched as Rosanne leaped for it
holding a piece of bread. She shoved it over the intercom and the voices were
somewhat muted. “What are you doing, Rosanne?”
“Bread makes an excellent substitute for a sponge,” Rosanne announced,
dabbing at the intercom. “This intercom is filthy. It’s been bothering me all
week long.” The bread crumbled under her hand leaving the intercom exposed.
“Maybe it would be a
good idea of we checked out that new hotel and see what their facilities look
like.”
“What a marvelous
idea! Do you think we should make a weekend of it—you know, really get the feel
for the place?”
“I’d like to get the feel
of something.”
Tyler was puzzled. He recognized his mother’s well
cultivated tones but who was she talking to? “Is that Mom?” he asked.
Rosanne was still scrubbing at the intercom with a handful of
crumbs. “I don’t know, Tyler. Your mom has company. There might be another
woman in there with her and Officer Van Husen.”
Rosanne was acting very oddly. She was acting guilty, like she
was trying to hide something from him. “I’ll go say hello,” Tyler said, heading
for the doorway.
“NO! Don’t do that!” Rosanne practically leaped across the
enormous center island to stop him “They’re making plans for a big party for
the police department. I’m sure they don’t want to be interrupted. Why don’t you wait a little while?”
The intercom crackled again.
“If I don’t get you
alone soon, I’m going to go out of my mind—“
Rosanne pressed the talk button and said, “Mrs. Schuyler, Tyler
is home. Would it be all right if he brought the coffee in?”
After a few seconds, Tyler heard his mother’s voice. She sounded
breathless but normal. “Yes, Rosanne. That would be fine. We’re almost through
with our—meeting. We’re just pounding out a few details.”
Rosanne turned to Tyler. “Do you mind taking the coffee tray
in? My back has been bothering me.”
“Sure,” Tyler agreed. He hadn’t been voted Most Affable by his
class at Schuyler Square High for nothing.
“And Tyler,” Rosanne added suddenly, “don’t worry. Nothing’s
wrong.”
Tyler would have scratched his head if he didn’t know that
it was terribly déclassé to scratch
any part of his body in public. Especially in the kitchen. But he didn’t know
what Rosanne was talking about. Nothing was ever wrong in the Schuyler family. Nothing that couldn't be fixed with a whole lot of money, anyway.
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