Honeymoon

Chapter 24

IT WAS A lovely service, sad and very touching. St. Mary’s, with the beautifully manicured Sleepy Hollow Country Club looming in the background, was the perfect spot.

At least that’s what everyone kept telling Nora. There wasn’t a receiving line, but people still made a point of coming up to her. She’d met some of Connor’s friends and business associates previously; a few others she’d known about. The rest introduced themselves and fumbled with words of sympathy.

All the while—at the church as well as the cemetery—Elizabeth Brown kept her distance. Not that Nora was necessarily eager for a détente. Actually, Connor’s sister had done her a favor. She’d unwittingly bolstered the notion that the last person who’d want Connor dead was the woman poised to be worth millions by marrying him.

It was back at the house in Westchester, where people from the funeral had gathered for food and further commiserating, that Elizabeth finally went up to her.

“I noticed that you don’t drink. Not even on a day like today,” Elizabeth said.

Nora was holding a glass of sparkling water. “Oh, I drink. But I guess I prefer water today.”

“We really haven’t had much of a chance to talk, have we?” Elizabeth said. “I want to thank you for making all the arrangements. I don’t think I could’ve done it.” Tears began to well in her eyes.

“You’re welcome. I suppose it made sense, given that I live here. I mean not here here but—”

“I know, Nora. In fact, that’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

A man walked by, one of Connor’s associates from Greenwich. Elizabeth paused so as not to be overheard.

“Come,” said Nora. “Let’s step outside for a minute.”

She led Elizabeth out the front door to the large flagstone steps of the entrance. It was now just the two of them. Time for some honesty?

“Anyway,” said Elizabeth. “I had a conversation with Mark Tillingham. It seems Connor has left me this house.”

Nora’s reaction was brilliant. “Really? Well, that’s good. I’m glad it can stay in the family. Especially with you, Lizzie.”

“Oh, that’s so nice. Only the last thing I’m about to do is move here and live in it,” said Elizabeth. She paused and dropped her head, unable to finish the sentence. Tears were now streaming down her cheeks. “I just couldn’t.”

“I understand,” said Nora. “You should just put it on the market, Lizzie.”

“I suppose. But I’m in no rush. Which is what I wanted to talk to you about,” she said. “First, I want you to feel free to use the house for as long as you like. I know that’s what Connor would’ve wanted.”

“That’s so nice of you,” said Nora. “And unnecessary. I’m overcome.”

“I’ve asked Mark to have all the expenses and upkeep paid for by the estate. It’s the least we could do,” Elizabeth said. “And, Nora, I want you to keep all the furnishings. That’s what brought you and Connor together in the first place.”

Nora smiled. Elizabeth’s guilt was dripping from every word. On the heels of Connor’s death, she thought his fiancée would be out for a payday. But now that she believed otherwise, her generosity was a way of admitting she was wrong. Which she was, thought Nora. Technically, at least.

I’ve already had my payday.

They stood in front of the grand house and continued to talk until Elizabeth realized the time. Her flight back to California was in less than three hours. “I’d better get going,” she said. “Saddest day of my life, Nora.”

Nora nodded. “Yes. Mine, too. Please keep in touch.”

Elizabeth said good-bye—with a hug, no less—and walked to her rental car in the driveway. Nora watched, her feet close together, her hands clasped at her waist. Beneath her sturdy exterior, though, was a heart racing with excitement. She’d pulled it off! The murder. The money.

Nora pivoted on her Manolos to head inside the house. After two steps, she stopped. She thought she’d heard something. A noise from the hedges and evergreens. A clicking sound.

She looked toward the edge of the property and listened…. Nothing.

Probably a bird, she decided.

But as she took the last step into the house, the Nikon D1X digicam chirped a few final times from its perch among the rhododendron.

Click. Click. Click.

Nora Sinclair wasn’t the only one with a grand plan.