Murder Most Persuasive

wandered about the lawn. Real sheep that had apparently eaten quite well the night before. Nothing says wedding fun like stepping around mounds of sheep poop.

“Wait,” said Miles. “I thought Little Boy Peep was Reggie’s second wedding. Wasn’t the one with the Indian priestess her first?”

“No, that was her third,” corrected Ann. “Her second was the one where we all wore pink. Remember, it was on Valentine’s Day?”

Miles gave a slight shudder. “Ah, yes. The blushing bride wore a corset of sorts, if I remember correctly.”

“Now, don’t make fun. Reggie’s been through a lot,” admonished Laura.

Miles and Ann ruined the sentiment by adding “of men” in unison to Laura’s statement and then bursting into laughter. Laura appeared scandalized, but after a moment even she laughed. 

Chapter 16

One does not love a place the less for having suffered in it, unless it has been all suffering, nothing but suffering.

—Persuasion

Sunday dawned another glorious fall day. Well, I assumed it dawned that way, as I wasn’t awake for the actual occurrence. Over the years, I’ve found the whole “crack of dawn” experience to be wholly overrated. Besides, given the week we’d had, Ann and I agreed that sleeping in was a priority. Of course, truth be told, I’d be hard- pressed to name a time when sleeping in isn’t a priority for me.

We had planned a leisurely morning of drinking coffee on the back patio and tackling nothing more strenuous than the crossword puzzle (in People, not The New York Times) before heading out for St. Michaels. Ann had called Nana the night before to make sure our visit wasn’t inconvenient. Nana had been thrilled and had insisted on us coming for lunch. Kit, of course, had been just as thrilled when we called her with the plan. Out of politeness, I won’t mention my reaction to hearing that Kit was joining us, but I can tell you that “thrilled” wasn’t it.

Which is why, I suppose, I was irritated to awake to a ringing doorbell at the ungodly hour of eight thirty. I was even more irritated upon opening the door to discover that it was Kit who was doing the ringing. Her blond hair was shinning, her face was dewy fresh, and her linen jumper actually looked like it had been ironed. She could have been the cover girl for Fit Pregnancy. Scarlett yipped at her in apparent annoyance. I didn’t stop her.

“Goodness, you certainly aren’t a sight for sore eyes,” Kit said, her expression disdainful as her eyes traveled from my bed head to my oversized T-shirt and boxers to the pièce de résistance—my well-worn bunny slippers. “I hope you never let Peter see you like this—he’ll run screaming. Don’t tell me that you’re still in bed at this hour!”

“Clearly not, Kit,” I said. “I am standing here. Answering the door. For you.”

“Well, aren’t you Miss Grumpy today!” she said as I turned and headed for the kitchen like a lion stalking a gazelle to make myself some much-needed coffee. Kit trailed after me, still talking. “I can’t believe you’re not up yet!” she said. “For goodness’ sake, I’ve been up for hours. I even worked out already. I’ve been doing this great pregnancy yoga workout. You know, you should try it.”

“Thank you, but I am not pregnant,” I pointed out.

“Well, I know that! God forbid! Mom would freak if you showed up pregnant. That would be the straw that broke the camel’s back!” She said this in such a horrified tone it was almost as if she thought I actually was pregnant.

“Kit!” I said, a warning note in my voice.

For once she got the point. “All I’m saying is that if you ever finally do get married and start a family, you are going to be the quintessential grouchy expectant mother.” She giggled, apparently tickled at the thought. “I can just see you, lying on the couch, moaning, and still wearing those awful bunny slippers.”

“Remind me why you’re here again? At eight thirty in the morning?” I asked, as I loaded the coffeemaker.

“I thought we should get an early start.”

“Why on earth would we need an early start?” I asked. “We aren’t expected at Nana’s until noon, and it’s only a forty-five-minute drive. Besides, premature arrival is a most untoward event.” Before Kit could reply, I went on, “Maybe you should go spread your sunshine around someone else. I’ve not had my coffee yet and without it, I really can’t ensure your safety.”

Ann stumbled into the kitchen just then, still wiping sleep from her eyes. “Oh, hello, Kit,” she said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were here.”

“No earthly reason why you should have,” I said, before hitting Start on the coffeemaker.

“Elizabeth is grouchy,” Kit announced to Ann as if I were a five-year-old.

“You know what else Elizabeth is?” I snapped, spinning around to let Kit have a piece of my mind. Granted, at this hour of the morning without the benefit of caffeine, my mind, let alone a piece of it, was apt to be pathetic. But I was determined.

Ann, who clearly knew me better than my own sister, took one look at me and saw that words were about to be said. Lovely, insulting, vulgar words. I didn’t go to an all-girls Catholic school for nothing. Those girls know how to curse. Some even minored in it. I opened my mouth ready to give Kit an earful.

Quickly cutting in, Ann said, “She’s a wonderful friend and cousin who has had a long week. Now, Kit, why don’t you come outside with me and sit on the back patio? It’s really lovely in the morning.” With a friendly wink at me, Ann steered Kit outside to safety.

By the time I finished getting the coffee and the bagels ready, I was in a much calmer mood. Loading everything onto a tray, I headed out to join Ann and Kit. It was another glorious day. The sky was a clear blue with a soft cool breeze coming out of the north. Or the south. I really couldn’t tell. My sense of direction is pretty lousy.

“So explain to me again why do you think Nana will be able to shed some light on this business,” Kit was saying to Ann. I put the tray down on the table between them and handed Ann her coffee. She gave me a grateful smile and took a large sip before answering.

“It’s nothing specific,” she said slowly. “Like I said yesterday, it’s just that Nana had a way of knowing everything that was going on. Part of her job was heading off trouble before it occurred—not an easy job with any of us, but especially Reggie. Let’s just say she was very good at her job. She had a kind of sixth sense with us.”

“I do remember that she never liked Michael,” I added as I dropped into a chair and helped myself to a warm bagel. “She was right about him.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean she knows what happened to him,” Kit pointed out.

“Of course not,” I said, “but she might have some information that could shed a little light on the situation.”

Ann stared into her coffee cup. “I just hope it’s a good light,” she said quietly.

* * *

As planned, we arrived in St. Michaels a little before noon. A quaint waterfront town on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, St. Michaels is known for its striking churches, elegant homes, and fashionable shopping. Nana lived in a picturesque two-story white colonial not far from the center of town. Ancient trees graced the front yard, their leafy branches looping low across the manicured lawn. Sunlight bounced off the calm blue water out back.

“Wow!” Kit exclaimed upon seeing the house as we pulled into the curved driveway. “Her house is gorgeous! It must be worth at least a million dollars! Just what kind of salary did Uncle Marty pay her?”

“Actually, I think her brother left her some money. She bought the house right after she stopped working for Dad. Right after I left for London,” Ann said.

Nana opened the door and waved happily to Ann. She looked just like you’d expect someone nicknamed Nana