Nine Deadly Lives by Livia J Washburn

Author:Livia J Washburn [Washburn, Livia J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: hollywood, thriller, crime, suspense, Historical, cat stories, cat mystery, pet story, cat fiction
Publisher: Prairie Rose Publications
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

4

August 19th, 1927

The funeral of Finlay Carlyle took place three days later at the Catholic Church of the Good Shepherd in Beverly Hills.

It was intended to be a small, private affair with family and closest of friends, yet such was the public interest surrounding Kay du Maurier and the tragic death of her infant son that the church was surrounded by well-wishing fans who had come to share the star’s grief, as well as a crowd of newspaper reporters and photographers with flash cameras, who wanted to record the event for their respective publications.

As ever, Blanche was on hand to support her younger sister and share her sorrow. Colonel Fenton was there also, yet by his bearing and the lack of physical contact between him and his wife, murmurs of suspicion started to hum around the throng.

Attending Rudolph Valentino’s funeral had been the most emotional moment of Kay’s life up until then, which she had striven so hard to conceal from anyone. Yet it was as nothing compared with the funeral of her son.

Of their son!

Her grief, her tears and her utter desolation touched everyone who saw them. They even seemed to melt Fenton’s heart, and he reached out to her for the first time in days and squeezed her hand.

“Our son…has gone!” Kay said from behind her veil, without looking at him.

“He has gone!”

She returned his squeeze, although he did not and could not realize that, in that moment, she was imagining that the hand she held belonged to another.

Afterward, as they left the church they were deluged by a sea of people, who had to be pushed away for them to make it to the waiting Rolls Royce. Amid the popping flash bulbs, Kay realized that she had never felt so alone in all her life. And as she looked at Fenton, still holding her hand, she suddenly felt only one emotion for him–hate.

She was sure that he sensed it, too, for he let her hand slip from his as he pulled open the door for her to get in.

The crowd of people waved and collectively wished them well as the car pulled away, just as a car would in a Kay du Maurier adventure or melodrama. The hero and heroine would be driving off to seek comfort and solace from each other.

But nothing could be further from the truth.

o0o

Doctor Roger Kennedy called on the afternoon of the funeral and again the following morning. Helen the maid let him in and rang through to alert Blanche that he had arrived. Blanche took him through to the dining room where Fenton and Kay were eating in stony silence at opposite ends of the long table. By the thunderous look on Fenton’s face and the moistness of Kay’s eyes it seemed clear that they had been in the middle of a heated row.

“Damn it, Kennedy, give her something stronger, will you? She won’t eat and she can’t sleep.”

“It is normal, Fenton,” Kay said, defensively.

Fenton stood up and tossed his napkin on the unfinished plate of bacon and eggs.

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