“It denies the resurrection of the soul. She was a sinner to begin with,” one woman said.
Kathy was ready to punch her. Ray smoothed things over, and she let him so he’d think that he was back in her good graces.
A Unitarian minister conducted the service, reading from the eulogy that Kathryn had prepared, extolling Sylvia’s independence and sense of humor—qualities that this audience probably disliked in her mother. Ray sang “Danny Boy,” which he claimed was one of Sylvia’s favorite songs. That was news to Kathryn, but she had to admit, he did have a beautiful voice. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house, including hers. When the minister thanked them for attending and asked them to sign the guestbook on the way out, they realized there would be no wake. No food. No booze. The grumbling was audible. What a group. She’d be glad to see the backs of them.
Ray remained as the crowd filed out.
“I was thinking we should go to lunch,” he said, taking her arm. “The Oyster House? Sylvia loved that place.”
“I’m sorry, I’m really not up for it.”
“I understand, but we’ve got business to discuss.”
She stepped back like she’d been burned. “What business?”
Lowering his voice, he drew her aside.
“Kathy, while Sylvia was ill, we gave you your space. But now it’s time to get back to work. I wish we could trust that you’d let bygones be bygones. Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s realistic. So, we need to put a few measures in place to keep you on track. Now, it won’t be all bad. There’s perks that come along with it for sure. For one thing, you won’t have to keep living in that dump near the courthouse. We have a new place for you. A beautiful town house in the Back Bay.”
“No, thank you, I’m fine where I am.”
He thrust out his chin. “This is not a request you can refuse. A lot of thought and work and money has gone into this, to keep you safe.”
“Safe? Please. You want to keep me where you can watch me. Let me guess, this place has a state-of-the-art security system, with cameras, microphones, everything you need to monitor my every move. Am I right?”
“Be reasonable. The trust has been shaken. I believe it can be rebuilt, but it’s only natural that you’d be under enhanced scrutiny for a while.”
“So you built me a prison.”
“It’s no prison. This house is beautiful and befitting of your station. It’ll be a wonderful place to entertain when the time comes.”
“Entertain? You can’t be serious.” She laughed bitterly.
“I’m talking about eventually, after you mourn your mother’s loss. Once trust is reestablished, and you’re back in the swing of things, it’ll be time to think about pursuing higher office. Governor, senator, Supreme Court justice. With your qualifications, your looks, the sky’s the limit. What I’m saying is, this darkness will pass, Kathy. There are things to look forward to. You can still have the future that I always envisioned for you.”
That he envisioned. She knew what Ray’s vision of her future looked like. Money and position in exchange for a life of captivity, of complicity, of people around her dying because she allowed herself to be compromised. Never. She’d tried to keep her mouth shut and play along, but the provocation was too great. The words came tumbling out before she could stop them.
“That will never happen. I will never work for you again.”
He sighed. “That negative attitude just won’t fly anymore. There’s no option of refusing to cooperate. You’ll live in the house. You’ll go back to work. And you’ll do what you’re asked. Measures will be put in place to make sure of that.”
She’d been vaguely aware of two people lingering in the back row after the other guests departed. Now, from the corner of her eye, she saw them rise and come toward her.
Charlie. And his mother.
She looked at Ray in dawning horror.
“No. Please, Ray.”
“Kathy, I’m getting old. It’s time that I step back. Besides, it hasn’t really worked out, has it, you and me? The view is, you need a firmer hand. That I was too indulgent.”
“But Mrs. Wallace? You can’t mean that. I hate her. She hates me. It just won’t work, and that’s bad for you. Besides, she’s a complete outsider. She won’t know what to do. She’ll mess up. She—”
“She’s no outsider. She’s always been behind the scenes, keeping the books, mapping strategy. We kept that from you because we knew you’d object. Well, courtesies like that are no longer being extended. There’s a new game plan. You’re going to let your current case manager go and hire her as a replacement.”