“The thing to figure out is what linked Mom with Cindy? Did she see something or did somebody tell her something ? She was in town at the Museum of Fine Arts that day, so she couldn 't have actually seen anything. I think it had to have been something somebody said later and Mom realized it didn't sound right.
“She's been pretty tense lately,' he continued, 'And talking a lot about not judging people harshly. I thought she meant me, because of how I felt about Cindy. I know it is horrible, but I was almost glad she was dead. But maybe Mom was talking about somebody else.'
“Did she have any visitors lately? Especially anyonewho didn't come normally ? ' Faith asked, addressing the question to Jenny. Rob wouldn't have known who had been there that week.
“Jenny and I have been all over that.' He smiled for a moment and Jenny managed a faint replica in turn. 'Mom always had a lot of visitors. This house is like the Grand Central Station of Aleford. You know that. Her quilting group met here on Wednesday and it was their turn for the Bridge Club Thursday night. This doesn't include all the people dropping in and out.”
Faith knew it was true. She had been in the habit of dropping in herself when she was up that way, to see Patricia, walk in the garden and likely as not leave with some flowers or a jar of jam. On paper Patricia would have sounded too good to be true. In real life you thanked God she was.
Faith offered to take Jenny for the next few days, but as she suspected the kids wanted to stay together and with their father.
“You know we don't have much family. Dad was an only child and now there 's no one left in Mom's family, so we have to stick together,' Rob said matter-of-factly, then added in a voice a little less controlled, 'Dad has been pretty bad and he doesn't want to see anybody but us. We don't want to leave him.”
Faith had only met Rob a few times before and although she had been slightly amused at the refined punk image he had adopted in defense against the preppiness of Williams, she didn't have much impression of him. Now she felt that he was going to keep things under control here. The numbness of grief would come later, but first there was anger and a lot to do.
With Jenny it was different. She looked completely devastated and Faith noticed that she was almost unable to speak. When Rob walked downstairs alone with Faith, she was glad to hear that Doctor Kane had given Jenny a tranquilizer the night before and had been checking in on them throughout the day. Jenny was going to try to sleep a little now—it was the best escape Faith could think of for her.
“If you need anything at all, Rob, please call—or just come over. For a meal, or talk, whatever helps.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Fairchild, we will; although, it won 't be for a meal unless we bring the food. If I could get all this stuff in the freezer, we 'd have enough for a year or two. Plus the Minuteman Cafe phoned this morning and offered to bring a hot meal whenever we wanted. And of course none of us can eat a thing.”
They went into the study. Robert and Tom were sitting before the fire. Robert looked a little better and Rob went over to his father and put his arms around him.
They left father and son soon after and went out to the car. As they were getting in they heard an insistent tapping on the upstairs window. It was Jenny. She was struggling to lift the heavy sash. Faith called up to her, then, realizing she couldn't be heard, went back in the house and up the stairs. Jenny was standing in the doorway of her room, her arms filled with a quilt—Patricia's last quilt.
“Mom wanted to give this to you. It's not finished. She was going to add another row of these quilted feathers ... ' Jenny could barely say the words.
Faith held her closely. 'Oh, Jenny, it would be one of my greatest treasures, but I think you ought to keep it.' Jenny interrupted her as fiercely as her shaky voice would allow, 'No, Mom wanted you to have it ! '
“Then I will take it with great thanks. It is very beautiful, like your mother, but I am going to leave it with you to keep for me—just for now.' Faith took Jenny's hand and led her back into her room, tucked her into bed, and spread the quilt over her—the deep blues and purples with flashes of red were like jewels inthe sun and she hoped it would blanket Jenny with a little of the warmth and comfort of that other irreplaceable warmth. She closed the door softly and let herself out without disturbing Robert and Rob, noting as she did so what an easy house it was to slip in and out of unnoticed.
On the way back to the parsonage Faith told Tom what Jenny had done.
“Of course you know what this means?”
Tom knew exactly. ' It means she was listening.'
“ Got it in one, sweetie. And it means she probably heard the whole conversation on the deck, not just the part about the quilt.”
They swung into the driveway next to their house, a maneuver that had to be done decisively with one sharp turn of the wheel, since the drive itself was about the width of a footpath and bordered on one side by the Miller 's arborvitae hedge and on the other side by their own protected-by-the-Historical-Society stone wall. Faith and Tom had each dislodged a stone or two, which they hastily and guiltily replaced. So far the arborvitae stood untouched.
Having safely reached the garage, Tom stopped the car and felt free to say what had been on his mind since the turn from Main Street.
“ And yours may not have been the only conversation she overheard.”
They entered the house, paid Samantha for babysitting after hearing what a perfect doll Benjamin had been, and then collapsed in front of their own hearth—a cold one, which Tom quickly filled with a roaring fire. He leaned back in the big wing chair and Faith sat on the floor, her head resting against his knees. He put his hand on her hair and absentmindedly twisted the strands between his fingers. Benjamin was on the floor next to Faith and Tom thought they must look like a scene straight out of Norman Rockwell—which was the whole point. What was going on beneath the surface of tranquil Aleford bore absolutely no resemblance to the picture on top. In one case, the discrepancy was deadly.
Patricia's funeral would be on Monday. Robert had left all the arrangements to Tom, as he was in no shape to plan anything at the moment. Tom thought he would go back to the house after church the next day and speak to each of them briefly with some suggestions. The children in particular might want something read. He already knew what Patricia had wanted ; Aleford would have to listen to Wordsworth again, this time for real.
Faith told him about her talk with Rob and Tom was glad to hear he was taking charge of his father and sister. Then she stood up and stretched before bending down to scoop up Benjamin in her arms.
She turned to face Tom. “ Now it's time to really talk and we need something to eat, so let's move into the kitchen.”
Tom was completely exhausted and had planned to spend the evening as close to the position he presently occupied as possible, with perhaps a brief foray into the kitchen for some kind of sustenance, preferably something that took less than three minutes to prepare.
Faith looked at him sympathetically. 'I know, I know—you're very tired, but we'll rest when the whole thing is over. Now we have work to do.”
She put Benjamin in his beloved swing, wound it up, and made a mental note once more to nominate the inventor for the Nobel Peace Prize. Benj smiled up at her and began to move sedately to and fro.
When he was born, Faith swore she would make all his baby food and never buy the jars ; but after she discovered how much it was costing her to puree pears out of season she succumbed and only made applesauce andvegetables. She reached for a jar of apricots now and quickly made some cereal and warm milk which she handed to Tom. A shadow crossed Benjamin 's face when the swing was stopped, but as soon as he saw his little Peter Rabbit dish, he began to wave his hands in greedy anticipation. 'Ah, my little gourmand, my
Faith meanwhile was bustling around, putting together a rich bearnaise sauce for the steaks and layering potatoes for a hasty Pommes Anna. ' We need rich food, Tom, and a good Cotes-du-Rhone.”
Tom could see Faith meant business.
An hour later Benjamin was asleep in the swing and Tom and Faith were savoring the last mouthfuls of Jack Savenor 's steaks and what Faith had done with them.
Tom noticed that a yellow legal pad had materialized by Faith 's side and she was starting to make a list. Tom didn't know whether it was the wine, food, or what, but he had begun to think that Faith was right. Between the two of them, they had a great deal of knowledge about the town and the case. Maybe if they went at it in a systematic way, they'd hit on something everyone else had missed.
Patricia's death had changed everything. It wasn't amateur sleuthing any more. It was his—and he unwillingly
