or three. They were part of the requirements for country living. Never mind that with all this rain, everyone would already be using them to protect things of their own.
“Why are you just sitting there?” my aunt demanded. I looked up to see her swirling off her new cape to drape over the back of a chair in front of the pellet stove in the dining room. “Don’t you have phone calls to make?”
I nodded. “How many tarps have we got?”
She had stooped to pick up Dagmar, and straightened at this with her arms full of purring gray and white fur. “Whatever for?”
I told her my plan.
She settled the cat across her shoulder. “Whatever for?” she repeated. “Do you really like roughing it? What’s wrong with the school cafeteria?”
I closed my eyes. “Fine. You call and make the arrangements.”
“The sheriff already took care of that. Didn’t he tell you?”
There was going to be a third body, any minute now. I was going to kill Sarkisian. “You mean I’ve been sitting here, frantic, and all this time…”
She shook her head. “Really, Annike, you worry too much. We told you at the beginning, just assign jobs, and everyone will pitch in and do their part.”
Even the sheriff, with two murders to solve. “Let’s give him the turkey as a thank you present,” I suggested. I felt amazingly better, even though Gerda refused to consider my generous impulse. Most likely, Sarkisian had delegated as well and had someone in his department take care of it. I’d have to call-scratch that, I’d drop by-with heartfelt gratitude for Jennifer if I survived all the way to Monday.
The change of venues meant I had to activate the phone tree again, first to arrange for a decorating committee in the morning and secondly to let everyone know they wouldn’t have to come to the dinner armed with beach umbrellas. While Gerda put on a kettle for much needed tea, I telephoned Ida.
“More decorating?” the woman demanded in tones of foreboding when I’d explained the situation to her.
“Hey, it’ll be dry. And the school already has some stuff up for the kids.”
Ida snorted. “Paper turkeys and pilgrims, colored with crayons.”
“You can have a real turkey,” I tried.
Ida, sensibly, ignored me. “Well, I’ll see who I can round up. What a pity today’s refreshments got ruined in the rain.”
“Throw the cookies back in an oven to dry them out?”
She laughed and hung up.
Maybe-just maybe-I could go to bed soon. We made a pot of chamomile infused with oat straw, then Gerda took her turn at the phone. She called Hugh Cartwright. He answered on the fifth ring, and judging from the sound of his “What do you want?” that belted over the wire instead of a more conventional “Hello,” his mood could not be described as good.
“To give you a piece of my mind,” Gerda responded promptly.
“Gerda?” he bellowed, then his tone dropped to a querulous grumble, still audible from a distance of ten feet away from the receiver.
She made appropriate soothing noises while he unburdened himself about his views of people who were so self-absorbed that they could commit murder on his business premises without any thought or consideration for what this was going to do to his work schedules. When he finally ran down, Gerda proceeded to give him the lecture of his life about reneging on promises. To my amazement, he did not resort to shouting again.
Gerda listened to his mutterings in his own defense for a minute, then cut him short. “You’re not fooling anyone. You’re just an old skinflint and ought to be ashamed of yourself. Now, you’re going to call Sheriff Sarkisian right now and tell him you wouldn’t dream of pressing charges against Peggy. Then you’re going to call Peggy and apologize to her for breaking your word. Is that understood?” She listened for a moment, smiling. “Thought so. All right, you too. See you at the dinner tomorrow.” She hung up and turned back to me, beaming. “All taken care of.”
I stared at her. “What hold do you have over him?” I demanded.
She actually blushed. “Oh, he wanted to marry me a couple of years back.”
If I hadn’t already been sitting I would have fallen. I settled for clutching Hefty. “You… He…”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Annike.” She sounded as stern as when she’d talked to Cartwright. “Certainly being rich would be nice, but not if it meant having to put up with that man.” She sniffed. “He doesn’t like cats.” And she walked out of the room before I could think of anything else to say.
I finished my tea, then got ready for bed. It just went to show, there were all sorts of things you didn’t know, even about your nearest and dearest.
The roar of an engine missing on one of its cylinders woke me up all too early Sunday morning. I shoved my feet into slippers, dragged on my comfortable old bathrobe, and hurried out to the deck in the drizzling rain. Through the trees, I could just make out something large and oddly colored down near the gate. Simon Lowell’s old hippie van. I went back inside, donned jeans, a sweatshirt and tall rubber boots, and hiked down to meet him.
By the time I got there, it was pouring. Simon stood beside the fence post he had put in last night, frowning. “What’s wrong?” I called as I approached.
He looked up and shook his head. “Ground’s too wet. I’ll probably have to take it out and reset it during a dry spell.”
As I commiserated with him over this, another ancient engine drew closer and labored its way up the last steep portion of hill that led to Gerda’s. Adam Fairfield’s Chevy appeared around the bend. Any hope I had that he might just drive on up the lane faded as he pulled in at the gate, blocking it. He climbed out.
“Knew that racket had to be you.” He glared at Simon.
“Look, Fairfield…”
Adam stalked over, sliding in the mud, and took a swing at Simon. Simon stepped back, slipped, and went down with a splat. You just couldn’t thud on ground this soft. Adam threw himself after him, and the two rolled until they were drenched and filthy, all the while throwing wild punches and swearing. I watched for a few seconds, then crossed to the pump house, which also held the controls to Gerda’s watering system. I selected a hose, turned it on full blast, then returned to the two men and aimed it on them. I wasn’t sure they’d notice, what with the pouring rain, but I managed to get it in their faces.
They fell apart, scrambling and sliding to hands and knees, both glaring at me. I held it on Adam a little longer, rinsing off his clothes for him. I don’t think he appreciated it. He started toward me, then stopped.
I lowered my weapon. “Going to be reasonable, now?”
Adam drew a shaky breath. “God, I’m sorry, Annike. But Nancy just told me she’s going to marry that… that…”
Simon’s bearded jaw dropped. “She is?” A broad grin spread across his face.
“If you think I’ll have a worthless drug dealer without a penny to his name for my baby’s husband…”
Simon burst out laughing. “She’s going to marry me!” he cried to me. “Damn, I can’t believe it! She really loves me!”
“She’s crazy if she does,” Adam panted. “She’s a Stanford student! She could have a real life ahead! I won’t let her throw it away on some wastrel who’s never accomplished anything!”
Simon’s chin came up, and his eyes narrowed. “Look, I’ll make this easier for you. Dad.”
I held the hose at the ready, but although Adam’s hands clenched at that epithet, and he twitched all over, he made no immediate move to attack Simon.
“It’s none of your business,” Lowell went on, a touch of smugness creeping into his voice. And his attitude. “But you might as well know. I have accomplished a couple of things.” His lip curled. “More than you ever have.”
“Like jail time?” sneered Adam.
“How about a doctorate from Yale in political science? And I contribute articles to national political magazines. Regularly.”
Adam’s fury faded to an expression more akin to someone who had just been hit over the head with a bag of wet cement. “You went to college? To Yale?”
“Yeah. You should be glad I don’t mind that my future wife’s only going to Stanford. And there’s more. Brody was trying to blackmail me, you know. He thought-and he was right-that I’d rather people didn’t know I inherited thirty-seven million from my mother’s side of the family.”
