“You’re late,” Eli called as I got out of the Mini. “You were supposed to be here fourteen minutes ago.”
Eli owned an atomic watch that got its signal from someplace in Colorado and the National Institute of Standards and Technology. He lived by its every pulse.
“I was at the villa with Joe and Dominique. Can you take the box of flags while I get the flowers?”
He nodded and reached for them as Mia opened the door to the Jag, stubbing out her cigarette in the ashtray.
“Give me the roses, Lucie,” she said. “I’ll take them.”
“The Jag is a smoke-free zone, kiddo.” Eli sounded annoyed. “No cigarettes or butts allowed. Hopie will end up playing with them or putting them in her mouth.”
Mia rolled her eyes. “I’ll clean it as soon as we get back to the house. Jeez, Eli. That’s what ashtrays are
“I know,” I said, “but I’ve been thinking about it for a while. It’s the first Memorial Day since Leland died. And it’s just the three of us now. I think it’s nice to pay tribute to everyone in the family who served the country. Especially since there was a Montgomery who fought in every war since the Revolution.”
“‘A martial race, bold, soldier featured and undismay’d,’” Eli quoted in a rich, thick Scottish brogue. “Aye, lassies, that be the fierce Montgomery clan, in the words of the immortal poet Rabbie Burns.”
Mia and I smiled. The three of us walked up the hill and Eli opened the wrought-iron gate. At the edge of the horizon, beyond the weather-etched tombstones and the brick wall that enclosed the cemetery, swollen rain clouds still hovered, obscuring the undulating horizon line of the Blue Ridge.
Eli sneezed three times and pulled out a handkerchief. “Oh, God, my allergies,” he complained. “There’s some plant here that always bothers me. I was fine in Hilton Head. I didn’t have any problems at Sea Pines.”
“We won’t be long,” I said. “Thank you both for doing this.”
“Some of these markers are falling over,” Mia said, threading her way between the oldest graves. “And the grass is still really wet. I’m taking off my sandals. They’ll get ruined.”
“It’s because whoever is buried there is…well, ashes to ashes,” Eli said cheerfully. “They didn’t always have coffins back in the day. And if it was just the body wrapped in a sheet or something and no embalming…two hundred years will do that to you. So it’s a sinkhole now.” He blew his nose again.
“Eli!” I said as Mia said, “That is disgusting.”
“But true,” he said.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s try to show a little respect while we do this.”
“I’d like to take care of Pop’s grave,” Mia said quietly. “If that’s okay with you guys.”
“Sure, Mimi,” I said.
“No problem.”
By the time we were done, the cemetery was dotted with flags and a single white rose at more than a dozen headstones.
“Who put the flowers on Mom’s grave? They must have really been nice,” Eli said. “You, Luce?”
“Yes.”
“Aw, jeez. It was her anniversary, wasn’t it?” he said. “May second. I don’t know how I forgot. Probably crashing on some project.”
Eli knew what he did every minute of his life. He hadn’t forgotten and we both knew it. No point saying anything, though. He was here now. It was good enough.
“I didn’t forget,” Mia said quietly. “I came by that day to talk to her and saw the flowers. They were pretty.”
“They were from all of us,” I said. “She knows that.”
Eli put an arm around my shoulder. “Thanks, babe. I’m glad you did that. And this was nice, too.”
I smiled. “I’m glad we were all together. Either of you two sticking around for the fireworks?”
“Hope’s too young,” Eli said. “They’d scare the daylights out of her. Maybe in a few more years.”
“I’m going out,” Mia said. “Eli, drive me back to the house, will you? My car is there.” She ran down the hill, barefoot, toward the Jaguar.
“Do not even think about getting in my car with those muddy feet,” Eli called after her.
“Oh, for God’s sake, will you
“She’s probably going out with Abby Lang,” I said under my breath. “They’ve been drinking over at the old temperance grounds. She got fined for public drunkenness the other day. It was in the police blotter.”
“Yeah, she told me. Said it was no big deal,” Eli said in a low voice as we reached the Jaguar.
Mia, impatient in the passenger seat, twisted and untwisted a long strand of golden hair around a finger. “You two take forever,” she complained. “Let’s get out of here, Eli. I’m going to be late.”
“Coming home tonight?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“She’s fine, Luce. She’s a big girl,” Eli said soothingly.
Mia made an I-told-you-so face at me as Eli, driving show-off fast, blasted down the road to the house.
The fireworks went off without a hitch shortly after nine. About a hundred and fifty people came along to the vineyard to watch, so it was a good turnout after all. Quinn arrived with Bonita and there was something about the way they acted around each other that made me feel three would be a crowd if I sat with them. Then Kit and Bobby showed up, so I joined them and we listened to the oohs and aahs each time the sky exploded with colors.
I have to say Hamp outdid himself, especially with the finale, which was a deluge of red, white, and blue chrysanthemum fireworks, interspersed with rockets zooming straight up before breaking apart and sending multitiered cascades of filaments showering down on us.
I walked Kit and Bobby back to his car when it was over.
“That was fun,” Kit said. “Thanks for the invite. I’m glad we came.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Bobby said. “Nice change to be here when it’s not about business.”
“Did your lab find out anything more about the flashlight?” I asked.
“Not on a holiday,” he said. “And we’re still waiting for the ME’s ruling about Randy’s death.”
“What do you mean? I thought it was suicide.”
“Not until he makes the final call,” Bobby said. “One of three choices.”
“Three?”
“Homicide. Suicide. Or the one I’d go for right now if it was me.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Pending,” he said. “I still think we got some loose ends here.”
Chapter 18
Around one a.m. I gave up on the sheep-counting and got up. Maybe a cup of chamomile tea would bring sleep. I fixed one and went out to the veranda on a warm, star-filled night. Voices floated across the lawn from the direction of the summerhouse, the words inaudible, but obviously Quinn had brought Bonita again. Why couldn’t they just go to his place? Why did they have to do it here?
I drank my tea even though it was so hot it burned my mouth, and went back to bed. When Mia came in at three, I was still tossing and turning. I heard her stumbling on the staircase. Then the bathroom door closed unnaturally loudly and I got out of bed. She was throwing up. I knocked on the door, then tried the handle. Locked.
“Let me in,” I ordered.
“Go ’way, Lucie. Leave me ’lone.”
“You’re drunk.”
“No’m not.”
“Unlock the door or I’ll break it down with my cane.”
