Free When Day Breaks by Mary Jane Clark

enough. You were very gracious.”
    “Again, it was my pleasure, Mr. Whitaker.”
    Stuart waited for her to continue.
    “This is very awkward, Mr. Whitaker. I’m not quite sure how to bring this up.”
    “Why not just say whatever it is you have to say?” Stuart suggested quietly.
    “Well, I remember that Constance Young was with you then, Mr. Whitaker. In fact, after that, Miss Young agreed to be the mistress of ceremonies for our Camelot Exhibit preview and reception Wednesday night. But in the newspaper this morning, I saw a picture of her taken yesterday, and she was wearing what appeared to be a carved ivory unicorn that we had procured for our upcoming exhibition.”
    “Yes?”
    “I checked, and the ivory unicorn is no longer in its case here, Mr. Whitaker.”
    “And your point is…?”
    “My point is, I thought I would confer with you before I did anything else.”
    “What are you suggesting, Ms. Quincy?”
    “I’m not suggesting anything, Mr. Whitaker. I was just letting you know, in case…” Her voice trailed off.
    “In case what?”
    “In case you might know what happened to it.”
    “Why would I know that?” asked Stuart.
    “It’s just that I didn’t want to go to the authorities…in case there was a reasonable explanation,” said Rowena.
    “How can you be sure the unicorn you saw Constance wearing in the picture came from the Cloisters?”
    “I’m not sure, Mr. Whitaker. But I do know the unicorn that should be here is missing.”
    “Don’t tell me you think Constance Young obtained the unicorn illegally.”
    “I don’t want to think that, Mr. Whitaker. Believe me.”
    Stuart’s voice rose in anger. “To suggest that Constance Young would steal something is an outrage.”
    Rowena ran her free hand through her mousy brown hair. “No, no, no, Mr. Whitaker. I’m not suggesting that she stole it. Of course not.”
    “You had better not be, Ms. Quincy.” Stuart warned. “It is wrong to speak ill of the dead.”
    Rowena recoiled. “What do you mean?”
    “You have not heard?”
    “Heard what?” asked Rowena.
    “Turn on the radio or CNN. Constance Young is no longer with us, and you will have to find someone else to host your reception Wednesday night.”

CHAPTER 17
     
    W hat’s worse? Faith wondered. Would it be worse to have Mother lucid and heartbroken when she heard the news of her daughter’s death? Or would it be worse to break the news to a childlike, uncomprehending shell of a woman and watch her show no reaction at all?
    Faith sat with her hands tightly clasped in her lap at the kitchen table. Her husband slid a mug of tea in front of her.
    “I’m not sure how she’ll take it,” Faith said. “I could use some moral support, Todd, when I go in there to tell her.”
    Todd glanced at his watch.
    “Please don’t tell me that you’re still thinking you can get your golf game in, Todd. Not today.”
    “Your mother is sleeping, Faith. What should we do? Wake her up to tell her the bad news?”
    “No, but when she wakes up on her own, I think we have to tell her then.” Faith took a cautious sip of the scalding tea.
    Todd leaned against the Formica counter and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t see where a couple of hours one way or the other makes any difference. When we tell her is not going to change anything.”
    “My sister is dead, Todd, and I don’t think it’s too much to ask that you skip your Saturday golf game.”
    “It relaxes me, Faith. And let’s be honest here, shall we? There was no love lost between you and Constance.”
    Faith looked at her husband. “That was a cruel thing to say.”
    Todd shrugged. “I’m only calling a spade a spade, Faith.”
    “Don’t kid yourself, Todd. You’re only trying to justify leaving to play golf.” Picking up her mug, Faith rose and walked down the small corridor that led to her mother’s room. As she stood in the doorway, watching her mother sleep, Faith heard the door to the garage