When Day Breaks Read online

  B.J. nodded as he took a drink and put his glass back down on the table. “Yeah, true enough, but Eliza chose her words carefully, didn’t she? Constance sure did affect everyone’s life. She made just about all of us miserable.”

  After the saltimbocca was served, Linus Nazareth raised his hefty form from his chair and gave his own toast, making sure that Lauren Adams stood beside him.

  “I can’t say I’m happy that you’re going over to the competition, Constance. I liked what having you on our team did for our ratings, and I still haven’t gotten over the gall you have to leave me.”

  The guests laughed—some heartily, some nervously.

  Linus continued. “But, in all fairness, I also can’t say I have ever known anyone, with the exception of me, of course, who works harder than you do.” He arched one eyebrow and grinned devilishly. “So I do wish you the best of luck. It was great having you on the team, but now Lauren and I look forward to whipping your ass.”

  Lauren Adams added, “You can say that again!”

  More laughter.

  “Now, Constance, I have some lovely parting gifts for you,” said Linus.

  Constance opened a large blue box and seemed genuinely pleased with the silver tray engraved with her name, KEY NEWS, and the dates she had worked at the network.

  “Okay,” said Linus as he presented a bigger box, this one orange. “The tray is ceremonial, but these are practical, something you can use every day.”

  The package contained a luxurious robe with KEY NEWS monogrammed over the breast pocket, along with a half dozen Hermès beach towels.

  “One of those towels could pay for my twins’ school lunches for a month,” marveled Annabelle as she watched Constance hold up the robe.

  “Nothing but the best for Constance, baby.” B.J. laughed. “Everybody knows she swims every day. Would you expect Constance to wrap herself in anything less?”

  Though she was hosting the luncheon, Eliza couldn’t stay until the very end. She had to get back to the Broadcast Center, but before she left, she stopped at Constance’s table.

  “Well, Constance, I’m not going to say good-bye, because I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other around often,” Eliza said.

  Constance rose from her chair and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you so much, Eliza. It really was so kind of you to have this for me.”

  “My pleasure,” said Eliza. “And what are you going to do between now and when you start at Daybreak next month?”

  “I’m heading up to the country later this afternoon. I’m not sure how long I’ll stay, but I’m going to take the next few days at least to relax.”

  “That sounds great,” said Eliza. She leaned closer, looking at some long, angry pink scratches on Constance’s neck. “What happened there?” she asked. “Did your cat do that?”

  Constance felt gingerly at her throat. “No,” she said. “I pulled my top off, forgetting I was wearing the unicorn. The prongs of the crown scratched deep into my neck. I’ve been covering it with makeup, but the powder must have worn off.”

  Eliza looked more closely. The eight-pointed crown had left only four scratches, with four of the points only retracing the scratches left by the points opposite them. In between the scratches was a deeper red gash caused by the horn of the unicorn.

  Eliza winced. “Maybe you shouldn’t put any more makeup on it, Constance,” she said. “Let it heal cleanly.”

  “I intend to,” said Constance. “I’m going makeup-free for a while. Upstate I can do that.”

  Eliza turned and leaned down to shake hands with Constance’s sister. “It was very nice to meet you, Faith,” she said sincerely.

  “Yes, I really enjoyed meeting you, too,” Faith answered as she rose to her feet. “Thank you for inviting me.”

  As the sisters watched Eliza head for the door, Faith commented on how impressed she had been with meeting the Evening Headlines anchorwoman. “I can’t get over what a nice human being she is,” said Faith. “Not stuck up at all. It was so lovely of her to give this farewell party for you, Constance.”

  Constance looked at her sister with scorn. “Don’t kid yourself, Faith. Eliza gave this lunch because it was in her best interest. Hosting it made her look good.”

  “I can’t believe you’re saying that, Constance. That’s pretty ungrateful of you, don’t you think?”

  “I’m just being honest.”

  “Just being honest.” Faith repeated the phrase, feeling her body stiffen. “How’s this for being honest, Constance? Some people actually do nice things for other people without having an agenda. They do those things out of love or friendship or just plain decency. Did that ever occur to you?”

  Constance smiled for the benefit of any lunch guest who could be looking her way. “Grow up, will you, Faith?” she said, barely moving her lips. “When are you going to stop being Little Mary Sunshine?”

  “I stopped being Little Mary Sunshine a long time ago, Constance. Funny how nursing our sick mother has wiped just about all the optimism out of me.”

  “Oh, no. Here we go again,” Constance groaned. “What do you want me to do about it, Faith? If you’d done what I wanted to do and put Mother in a lovely nursing home, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  “After all Mother did for us, Constance, she should live out her days taken care of by her family, surrounded by people who love her. I can’t put her in one of those places.”

  “Well, that’s your choice, Faith, not mine.”

  “Still, some help would be nice. I know you don’t think you have any more financial responsibility since Todd made that bad business investment and lost Mother’s house money, but how about making a little trip across the river to visit with her? Actually, Constance, just about anything you did would be an improvement over nothing.” Faith decided to let Constance really have it. “Look at you. You’ve got everything. Do you think I have anything like that necklace you’re wearing? I’m excited when I get a new pair of rubber gloves to wipe Mother’s behind.”

  “You would have to try and spoil today for me, wouldn’t you, Faith?”

  Faith was silent.

  “Well, I’m not going to let you do it,” said Constance.

  “I don’t want to fight. But why can’t you just invite Mom to your country place? After all these years, you’ve only had us there once.”

  Constance sighed. “You just don’t get it, Faith, but then I guess I shouldn’t expect that you could. You live in your insulated housewife’s world, without any conception of what real pressure is.”

  “At least I graduated college,” Faith blurted out.

  Constance stared coldly at her sister. “I’ll ignore that, Faith, because I know how upset you are. But these past few months have been difficult for me, and I need my rest before I start my new gig.”

  Faith picked up her purse. “How do you live with yourself, Constance?”

  “Don’t worry about me, Faith. I sleep very well at night.” Constance turned and walked away.

  While Faith stood watching her sister’s back, she heard the faint ring coming from her purse. She dug inside and pulled out her cell phone.

  “Mrs. Hansen? It’s me. Karen.”

  “What is it, Karen? Is my mother all right?” Faith asked fearfully.

  “Yes. She’s fine, Mrs. Hansen. She’s still taking her nap. But I just wanted to let you know that my adviser called and canceled our appointment. You don’t have to rush home now.”

  Faith put the cell phone back in her purse as she decided what she was going to do with her newly found free time.

  CHAPTER 10

  Constance arrived at her country house as the sun was beginning to set. As she turned in to the gravel driveway, she shifted the car into park and got out to open the wooden gate that blocked the entry. The gate wasn’t designed as a hindrance to any would-be intruder. All it took was simply sliding up the iron latch, and it swung open easily. The real safeguard for Constance and her property w
as the sophisticated electronic alarm system that armed the place.

  She looked at the house, thinking, as she always did, how much she loved owning it. The architect had done a skillful job in designing a modern structure that was framed by the beauty of nature. There were lots of windows that let in the light from the outside and provided soothing views from the inside. Downstairs there was ample, flowing space for living with ease and entertaining graciously. Upstairs there were only two bedrooms, one for guests and another, larger room for Constance.

  She went directly upstairs, carrying the orange box containing her gifts. She took off her green suit and changed into a black one-piece swimsuit and donned the robe she’d just gotten as a going-away present. She grabbed one of the new towels and went downstairs to pour herself a scotch and soda.

  Out on the deck at the rear of the house, Constance sat for a while, sipping her drink and watching the sky darken. One by one, lights clicked on inside the house. She waited for the timers to go off down the hill around the pool, but the lights there never came on. Constance went back inside the house and checked the central circuit-breaker panel. Sure enough, the switch that controlled the pool lights had tripped. Constance popped it back into position.

  When she came outside again, the air was noticeably cooler. Constance wondered if the pool heater had been affected by the interrupted electrical circuit. She hoped not, because one way or another, warm water or not, she was determined to get in her exercise.

  At the edge of the pool, Constance stopped and dipped her toe in the water. It was a bit cooler than she would have liked, but not too bad. Even if the heater was off, the sun had been beating down on the pool for the past few days now. Constance knew that once she got in and started swimming, she would be fine.

  She took off her robe and threw it, along with the towel, on one of the lounge chairs. As she started to pin her hair up, her hand brushed the silk cord around her neck, and she realized she’d neglected to take off the amulet when she changed into her swimsuit. Constance unfastened the unicorn and placed it on the table. Then she walked to the side of the pool and eased herself down the ladder, inhaling as her body slipped into the cool water. Slowly and methodically, Constance began swimming her laps, pulling the water behind her in long, even strokes, totally unaware of the eyes watching her from inside the cabana.

  Back and forth, back and forth, Constance’s sleek body sliced through the water. Her toned arms reached out, hands slightly cupped. Her legs fluttered rapidly, propelling her forward. At every other stroke, she turned her head to the right, her mouth breaking above the waterline, able to take deep breaths to keep going.

  When Constance finished her laps, she flipped over onto her back. Her blond hair fanned out on top of the water, and she stared up into the night sky as she neared the shallow end of the pool. Her ears were beneath the water, and she heard nothing except the silence.

  She began to shiver, and, rubbing her fingertips together, she could feel that they had puckered. Constance stood up, her feet touching the pool floor.

  As she neared the steps, she sensed she was not alone. She turned to look just in time to see the object flying through the air. The light around the pool revealed the orange electrical cord as well. In that terrifying instant, Constance knew what was going to happen to her.

  The toaster hit the water, and Constance felt the current begin to run through her at the same moment she saw her killer’s face.

  CHAPTER 11

  The pool lights flickered and then went off, but there was no time to look around for the electrical box and try to reset them. Just enough illumination filtered down from the spotlights over the deck at the rear of the house to light the way. The three-pronged plug, which had been reduced to two when the grounding prong had been purposefully cut off, was pulled from the outlet on the cabana wall. The thick orange electrical cord was efficiently wound up, the toaster at the end of the cord was pulled out of the pool.

  All the while, Constance lay motionless, facedown in the water.

  When the Great Dane had been electrocuted yesterday, it had been essential to get the dog out of the pool, leaving no trace of the poor creature’s fate. What a job that was, hoisting the massive and soaking-wet animal and dragging it into the woods. But Constance could be left right where she was, ready to be discovered.

  The early-evening stillness was marred by a sound coming from the deck above, but a visual sweep of the area revealed nothing. Something glimmered, however, from the table at the side of the pool. Curiosity revealed the source of the faint gleam. The light was hitting the bright green gem in just the right way. It was the reflection from the emerald eye of the carved ivory unicorn.

  Constance’s good-luck charm, her talisman, her gold-crowned unicorn, was slipped into a pocket with hopes that it would bring its new owner the best of fortune.

  SATURDAY MAY 19

  CHAPTER 12

  Saturdays were busy at the Cloisters. On a hill overlooking the Hudson River, this place might have been the closest approximation of a monastic setting in an American city, and people flocked there in the spring. Children and adults streamed in for gallery talks and family workshops on subjects ranging from medieval motherhood to magic and medicine in the Middle Ages. Visitors listened to audio guides as they wandered through the chapels and halls of the museum, immersing themselves in the world of monks, kings, knights, tapestries, stained glass, and carved stone. Outside, picnickers and sunbathers spread their blankets on the lawn, enjoying nature and serenity.

  Today Rowena Quincy was scheduled to give a special lecture on the Unicorn tapestries. As she headed to work, Rowena wasn’t nervous. She knew her subject so well that notes were unnecessary. Sitting on the uptown bus, she relaxed and read the New York Times. She dutifully flipped through the first section before turning to her favorite part, the Arts.

  There, below the fold, was a picture of Constance Young. Rowena read the caption: “Constance Young trading one morning show for another.”

  The story went on to chronicle Young’s last day on KEY to America on Friday and the luncheon held in her honor at a restaurant in the theater district.

  Rowena finished reading the article and then studied the picture. Constance Young was photogenic, but even more attractive in person. Rowena had realized as much the day Stuart Whitaker had requested a private tour for himself and the KEY to America host. Rowena had greeted the couple when they’d arrived, and she’d been impressed with how pretty Constance was.

  Even in this newspaper picture, Constance’s hair shone and her eyes sparkled as she walked into the restaurant. That green suit she was wearing was beautifully tailored. Rowena looked harder at the picture, trying to make out what Constance Young was wearing around her neck.

  No. It couldn’t be.

  CHAPTER 13

  The little girls in red-and-white uniforms were gathered at the side of the field waiting for their turns at bat. Eliza watched as Janie broke from the group and made her way to home plate.

  “Remember, Janie, don’t throw the bat!” Eliza called. At last weekend’s game, Janie had carelessly tossed her bat after smacking the ball off the tee. The bat had hit her teammate Hannah in the leg.

  Janie glanced over at her mother, and for an instant Eliza wished she had cheered her daughter on to a good swing rather than calling out a warning. But Janie looked unperturbed. She positioned herself behind the raised tee, holding her bat back as she’d been coached to do.

  “She’s looking good.”

  Eliza turned toward the voice, smiling when she recognized her neighbor standing beside her. Michele Hvizdak was holding her four-year-old son’s hand.

  “Good morning. How’s it going, Michele? Is Hannah’s leg all right?”

  “Eliza, yes. Her leg’s fine. And it has been fine every one of the half dozen times you’ve asked since last weekend. Stop worrying, will you?” Michele nodded to the young players. “Look at her over there. Does she look hurt to you?”
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br />   Hannah Hvizdak’s chestnut-colored hair flew through the air as she executed a perfect cartwheel.

  Satisfied, Eliza leaned down to Michele’s son. “Hi, Hudson. How are you today?”

  The little boy’s face lit up, but he said nothing.

  “What I’d give for those eyelashes,” said Eliza as she stood upright again. She noticed that Hudson was wearing the same sweatshirt and shoes that he’d worn at last weekend’s game, and at the game the weekend before that and at the one before that, too. Eliza knew it was a pretty good bet that Hudson had been sporting that sweatshirt on many of the week-days as well. His mother had explained his penchant for wearing the same jacket and sneakers over and over and his insistence on donning his favorite Power Ranger sweatshirt, even in the heat. Obviously, Michele had to do laundry almost every night so Hudson’s attire would be clean.

  Cheers erupted from the sidelines and Eliza looked over just in time to see Janie rounding first base. Novice fielding ensured that Janie scored a home run. Eliza was grinning and giving the thumbs-up sign to her daughter when she felt the BlackBerry vibrating in her pocket. With a sinking heart, she read the text message: URGENT. CALL RANGE BULLOCK ASAP.

  Eliza strode from the ball field and found a relatively quiet spot from which to make the call to Range. Urgent? That couldn’t be good. Eliza had never gotten a weekend call from the executive producer of The KEY Evening Headlines just to chat about the weather—unless, of course, there was a hurricane brewing.

  “Range. It’s me. What’s up?”

  “There’s no way to break this easily, Eliza.”

  Eliza braced herself. This must be personal. Range would normally just blurt out headlines. “What is it?”

  “Constance Young is dead.”