Mrs. Pendergast had had enough of true confessions. 'There's snow in the air. Smelled like it when I went to start my car this morning.”
Two years ago Faith would have scoffed at the quaintness of this archetypal New England prophecy, but she thought it smelled like snow herself this morning. There was a kind of smell, or lack of smell. The air was dry, odorless, and empty—waiting to be filled with flakes.
“Anyhow,' Mrs. R continued in the same folksy vein, 'it's time for some more snow. You knowwhat they say: 'A green Christmas means a full graveyard come spring.' “
Faith wondered what cheerful soul had first made this observation and decided to ignore the homily in favor of the here and now. 'Should we make up some stew and a few soups in case the weather gets bad and the weekend help can't get here?' she asked.
“I've already done a beef stew and it's in the freezer. If you want to help with some soup, that would be getting it done. But'—she looked over her ridiculous diamante glasses at Faith—'no bouillon.”
Five
It was three o'clock. Ben had awakened from his nap, and Faith was restless. Too early to start dinner, and she didn't feel like doing any of the things she had to do. Like iron. She knew not what worldly goods she might bequeath to her children, yet of one thing she was sure. There would be a basket of ironing sitting in the closet.
“Want to go see Pix and play with the dogs?' she asked Ben, confident of his response. There was nothing Benjamin liked better than rolling around on the Millers' kitchen floor with their golden retrievers. It wasn't necessary to bundle him up too much for the quick dash across the driveway, and soon she was knocking at Pix's kitchen door.
“Are you busy? Or would you like some company?' Faith asked.
“I'd love an excuse to stop. Every time I add these up, I get a different number.' She pointed to a pile of papers on the kitchen table. 'It's the final tally for the cookie sales. We have to make sure the number of boxes sold equals the number delivered and paid for.”
Pix was the town coordinator for the Girl Scout cookie drive again, even though Samantha hadn't been a scout for some time. It was one of those jobs that, once having fallen to Pix, stuck. She was active in everything from the preschool PTA to Meals on Wheels. All the organizations in town knew a good thing when they saw it, and she was the original girl who couldn't say no.
“Don't you ever think of shedding a few of these responsibilities?' Faith wondered.
“Believe me I try, but they say 'just one more year' and I agree. But this really is the last year for the cookies. Sam was very annoyed at having his precious Porsche outside while the Tagalongs and Trefoils were in the garage.”
Sam Miller, a Boston lawyer, had purchased the sports car as a defiant gesture toward the depredations of middle age when he had turned forty several years earlier. The other less benign gesture—the prerequisite affair with a younger woman—made at the same time had fortunately not been repeated, nor did it seem likely that it would.
“Give me your calculator and let me help you with this. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's set tling accounts,' Faith offered.
Pix put a cookie in each of Ben's hands and placed him high up on a stool so the dogs wouldn't eat the cookies before he could, then put a plate of them on the table. She poured two mugs of coffee and they settled down to work. Faith had become used to drinking bottomless mugs of coffee in Aleford's suburban kitchens. Her espresso days were definitely over, she thought with a slight inward sigh.
The job was soon done.
“You're a wizard, Faith. It would have taken me hours to do it.'
“It's good practice for February, when I start the business again. My profit depends on calculations like this.'
“I can't wait. I'll never have to cook for another dinner party again.' Pix, who had shot the rapids whitewater canoeing coast to coast, regularly skied the bowl at Tuckerman Ravine, and had taught her teenage son to drive, went completely to pieces at the prospect of entertaining in Aleford.
“I've told you. I'd be happy to get everything ready for you anytime. You don't have to hire me,' Faith protested.
“No, you're a professional. It's your bread and butter, so I'll wait my turn.”
Ben was opening Pix's cupboards and soon became engrossed in her museum-quality and -quantity Tupperware collection. There was a shape and size for every food yet discovered. Faith knew Pix didn't mind the mess.
Pix was the only person, apart from Tom and Charley MacIsaac, whom Faith had told about Howard Perkins' letter and Chat's call. Pix had lived in Aleford all her life, but her ear had always been kept to a different kind of ground than Milli-cent's or even the chief's. A camping ground. Still, she might know something about some of the people Faith had met the night before, and she started off by asking about the younger Hubbards.
“Of course I know Charmaine and Donald. They've lived in town since they got married, which must have been about ten years ago,' Pix responded. 'But our paths don't cross very often. Besides, Charmaine is away a lot. They don't have any children, so I guess she gets bored around here. She's always off to Florida or on a cruise somewhere.'
“Boring stuff like that,' said Faith.
“Well, boring to me. Muriel was a couple of years behind me in school. I always felt sorry for her. It wasn't that she was unattractive, but she was so serious no one ever dated her much, and she didn't even have many girlfriends, except for a few who were in Future Nurses. I remember her mostly rushing to class with a big stack of books—all by herself.'
“What about someone named Edsel Russell? Ever run into him?'
“His older brother was in Sam's and my graduating class, but I don't know Eddie. There's a big age difference.'
“You mean Eddie Russell is from Aleford! I should have guessed,' Faith exclaimed.
“He's from Aleford, though he hasn't been here much. He left when he was a teenager. I don't know if he ever finished school. His father, Stanley, ran off when the kids were young, and his mother died about ten years ago, so there was nothing back here for him. His brother, Stanley Junior, is a career Army man. He's at some base in Texas.'
“I wonder why Eddie came back to Aleford,' Faith mused.
“I can't tell you that, but I can tell you how. It was pretty hot gossip at the time—about two years ago. Charmaine met him down in Boca Raton. He was the golf pro or something like that at the resort where she was staying. Hubbard House had an opening, and he must have needed a job.'
“And maybe Charmaine decided he could be of service in other ways?'
“It has been hinted. She's not known for her devotion to Donald, and a lot of people wonder why he ever puts up with her.'
“Love, my dear, blind infatuation. It sticks out all over him.'
“Last night must have been very interesting then. Tell me, what did Charmaine wear? Anybody who wears a chartreuse body suit and a lace T-shirt to do her marketing in was bound to look pretty spectacular at the ball.”
Faith filled her in, and they spent some more time talking about the Hubbards and Eddie Russell, in particular, but it was peculation that didn't take them anywhere. Faith stood up. 'I've got to go and get supper ready. Let me know ifyou remember anything more about the Hub-bards or Eddie. I have a hunch that whatever Howard found out has to do with Charmaine and Eddie. Maybe they're operating some sort of scam using Hubbard House as a front— kickbacks from the hospital suppliers, that's a possibility, or doctoring the books. From the giant Rolex Eddie was sporting, it's my guess he likes a healthy cash flow.'
“But Dr. Hubbard or Muriel would know if something like that was going on. Besides, it isn't likely they'd let Charmaine anywhere near the books, and Eddie would only have access to transactions dealing with maintenance. Of course, that could be pretty lucrative.”
Faith made a face. 'Don't be so logical. Charmaine and Eddie are the only leads I've been able to come up with so far, slim though they be. Well, there's still plenty of time before Christmas to find out. Although I would
