Saturday, June 11
After two days of bobbing about on the river herding milk jugs, I devoted Saturday to helping Dad with the roundup--tracking down as many of the milk jugs as possible and recording where we'd found them. We even started getting calls from people down river, claiming the small reward we had offered for turning in the jugs that got past us. Most of these, as expected, were the ones the sheriff had dumped into the current. None of the jugs washed up anywhere near the beach where Mrs. Grover was found, which Dad and the sheriff concluded was convincing enough proof that her body had been dumped there rather than washing up there. I had to admit, I was convinced. Thanks to the vigilance of the Coast Guard and the contrariness of the currents, we now knew that Mrs. Grover must have arrived on the beach by land, not by sea.
But for the moment I'd decided to let Dad investigate alone. Wonder of wonders, Eileen had showed up Saturday afternoon, even more sunburnt than I was, but in one piece, and presumably available for measuring and gown selecting. If she didn't take off before Monday morning.
'Having trouble with your car?' Michael asked. He came across me peering under the hood of my car, owner's manual in hand, so I suppose that was the logical assumption.
'I'm trying to figure out where the distributor cap is, and how one removes it.'
'You're having trouble with your distributor cap?' he asked.
'No, but I want Eileen to have car trouble if she tries to leave before I get her in to pick out her gown. In the movies, they're always removing the distributor cap to keep people from leaving the premises, but I can't even figure out where the darned thing is.'
After much effort, we succeeded in locating something that we thought was the distributor cap; more important, we confirmed that, whatever it was, once it was removed the car wouldn't start. After considerably greater effort, not to mention some help from Samantha, who happened to be passing by, we managed to get it reinstalled and start my car again.
We then staged a daring midnight raid on Eileen's car.
Sunday, June 12
I slept in Sunday morning and then fled before Mother and her court arrived for the midday dinner. I didn't want to face what the assembled multitudes had to say about either the murder or the Langslow family's latest eccentricities. Instead, I went over to Eileen's house to read her the riot act about staying in town until the gown business was finished. We arranged to go down to Be-Stitched bright and early Monday morning. She promised repeatedly that of course she wouldn't think of leaving town before the gown was settled. Cynic that I am, I took more comfort in the thought of her distributor cap safely stowed in a shoebox at the very back of my closet.
As I was walking down her driveway, Eileen came back out and called to me.
'Oh, by the way, Meg,' she called, 'Barry's coming in tonight. He called to say he's dropping by on his way home from the show and can stay around for a few days.'
'How nice for him. I'll pick you up at five of nine tomorrow.'
I rejoined Mother, Dad, and Pam on the porch of our house. Dad had several dozen medical texts scattered about. He kept reading bits in one, then switching to another, all the while nodding and muttering multisyllabic words to himself. I hated to interrupt him, but--
'Dad,' I asked. 'Do you have any heavy yard work that needs doing?'
'I need to saw up that fallen tree, but I don't think you'd want to do it.'
'Besides, dear, don't you have enough to do with the invitations?' Mother hinted. 'All this excitement over Mrs. Grover seems to have taken such a lot of your time.'
'I wasn't volunteering for yard work,' I said. 'But Eileen says Barry is dropping by on his way back from the craft fair to spend a few days.'
'How nice of him,' Mother purred.
'Good grief,' Pam said.
Dad snorted.
'And I see no reason why he should be loitering around underfoot, getting in everyone's way,' I continued. 'He could make himself useful. He's a cabinetmaker; he should feel right at home with a saw. Have him cut up the tree.'
'He could come with me up to the farm,' Dad said. 'They've promised me a load of manure if I help haul off a few more truckloads of rocks. Barry's a big lad; he should be able to handle the rocks.'
'What a good idea,' I said. 'Barry spends a lot of time at the farm with Steven and Eileen. I'm sure he'd love one of your manure trips.' Perhaps we could also take Barry on all the little expeditions we'd dreamed up to help run poor Mrs. Grover out of town. Waste not, want not.
'By the way, Dad,' I added, 'remind them about the peacocks.'
Monday, June 13
'Eileen will be choosing a gown this week,' I announced over breakfast to Mother and Mrs. Fenniman--who had dropped by shortly after dawn to borrow some sugar and had now been discussing redecorating schemes with Mother for several hours.
'That's nice, dear,' Mother said. 'Does she know that?'
'She will soon,' I replied. 'I am picking her up at five minutes to nine. We will drive in to Be-Stitched and stay there until she selects something. If she hasn't decided by lunchtime, I will go out for pizza. If she hasn't decided by closing time, we will do the same thing Tuesday if necessary, and Wednesday, and Thursday. If by noon Friday she hasn't picked anything, I will select whatever Michael tells me can be most easily completed between now and mid-July, and she will have to live with it.'
'This I gotta see!' chortled Mrs. Fenniman.
'Eileen is so fortunate to have you taking care of things,' Mother remarked. 'Perhaps Mrs. Fenniman and I could help. We could try to gently influence her toward some gowns that would be appropriate and flattering.'
'With no hoops!' Mrs. Fenniman snorted.
I considered the offer. Logically speaking, one would assume that having more people involved would prolong rather than streamline things. But Mother could not only talk anyone into anything, she could probably make Eileen think it was her own idea. The trick was to get Mother properly motivated. I needed a mother determined to help Eileen reach a quick decision, not a bored mother finding entertainment by helping Eileen dither for the rest of the week.
'If you wouldn't mind, that would be a help. Perhaps the problem is that Eileen doesn't quite trust my advice on clothing, but of course with you two there that wouldn't be a problem. And it would save time in the long run. As soon as I've gotten a decision from Eileen, I can really concentrate on getting the rest of your invitations out and running all those errands you need for the redecorating.'
I was afraid I'd been a little too obvious, but they fell for it. It only took me ten minutes to put on my shoes and find my car keys, but when I went outside they were standing impatiently by the car in their full summer shopping regalia (including hats), and had begun jotting down a list of criteria for Eileen's dress. I felt encouraged that the first item was 'No hoops!'
'We've all come to help Eileen decide on her dress,' I announced to Michael as the parade filed into the shop. Mother and Mrs. Fenniman settled on either side of Eileen on the sofa in the front window and dived efficiently into their task.
'I'm not holding my breath,' Michael said, too quietly for the others to hear.
'Have faith,' I muttered back. 'The end is in sight. I've pretended to Mother that I'll have absolutely no time to work on her wedding till Eileen's gown is chosen. Five bucks says she has a decision by lunchtime.'
'No bet,' Michael said, laughing.
By eleven-thirty, I was beginning to be glad we hadn't wagered. I wouldn't exactly say Mother and Mrs.
