Pix did have a passing thought as to when they'd seen him last, but it seemed that they had always disliked Valerie intensely, especial y after their son's death, when she'd contested his wil , seeking to prevent certain bequests, among them a trust fund for Duncan. The Cowleys had told her they didn't care to see her anymore and she had retaliated by keeping Duncan from them, never al owing the boy to visit. He was living with John Eggleston at the moment and John was going to take him south the fol owing week. John had been the one to break the news of his mother's probable death to Duncan. He'd told Pix the boy had pretended indifference at first, saying he'd never real y loved her, since she'd never loved him. Then he'd sobbed for hours. Looking at him now playing like the child he stil was in part, Pix hoped he would find what he needed from his grandparents. At any rate, it would certainly be an improvement.
“It is a good party, if I do say so myself,' Pix said tritely and complacently. 'What could be easier than lobster, especial y when my guests brought almost everything else?”
Ever since Faith and family had arrived on Thursday, leaving Aleford as soon as they heard of Pix and Samantha's ordeal, Faith found she was happiest right by her friend's side. First, of course, she had to hear about it al . Then she realized she simply wanted the reassurance of physical presence.
“Do you think people are ready for dessert?' Faith had made a tableful of blueberry tartes with the succulent wild Maine blueberries now in season.
“Not yet. Arnie's stil oozing butter and charm.' Pix looked at her brother fondly. He'd been sticking to her side, too. He was reaching for a thick wedge of the corn bread*
Louise Frazier had brought. She insisted that this treasured family recipe from the Deep South went perfectly with Down East fare. And she was right.
“Now that the rain has stopped, we can get a better look at the house. Do you want to drive out after everyone leaves?' Pix remarked. 'It should also be a beautiful sunset.' The Fairchilds had bravely faced the storm yesterday, but after driving out to the Point, they didn't even attempt to get out of the car. 'These weren't drops; these were tidal waves,' Faith had told Pix. 'Wonderful climate.'
“It is.' Pix had stoutly defended what she thought of as her native clime. 'Think how hot it is in Boston. I'd rather have rain, and especial y fog, any day.' Maine without its occasional soft, dense gray fogs molding land and sea alike into new shapes was unthinkable.
“I'd like to go out, especial y for the sunset, and you can tel us what it's al going to look like”
Pix was a bit shamefaced. 'I do feel that I should have been after Seth sooner. You might even have had the roof by now'
“Pix! No grades, remember? Did I tel you or did you tel me that life is not a final exam? Except maybe final y.
Never mind. How you can possibly think this is your fault is total y absurd. Next, you'l be taking responsibility for what the crazy Athertons did!'
“Absolutely not!'
“Absolutely not what?' It was Jil —arm in arm with Earl, Pix noted with pleasure.
“Too complicated to explain,' Faith said.
“Speaking of which .. ' Earl gave Jil a surprisingly piercing look.
She drew the word out, 'Yes, I suppose now is as good a time as any. I do need to talk to you, Pix.”
Faith stood up. 'I'l leave you to it, then, and rescue the long-suffering teenagers from my adoring progeny.' She didn't real y mean it, and fortunately Jil said, 'Oh you don't have to leave, Faith. It's not exactly a secret.' Faith resumed her place, aware that good manners often paid off.
Jil sat down on the lawn. Earl stretched out next to her.
She was finding it hard to begin, pul ing at tufts of grass beside her until Pix began to worry seriously she'd have to reseed.
“You know I started carrying antiques at the end of last season and stocked even more this year. They've been doing very wel and I've made more money at the store than ever before.'
“That's wonderful,' Faith said. Pix had told her about Jil 's cupboard, not exactly Old Mother Hubbard's, and she wanted to keep the young woman's turgid flow of conversation moving.
“Not real y. You see, almost al the antiques I bought from Mitch were fakes—and these were the bulk of my stock.”
No one said anything.
“I didn't know it when I bought them, of course. I should have been suspicious, since they weren't as expensive as similar things I'd priced at other dealers', but I thought he was giving me a good deal because he liked me. Then there began to be al this talk about phony antiques after his death. I got scared. If he was involved in something, I might be charged as a receiver. And I'd sold a good many. I had to be sure what I had were fakes for sure, so I began to go up to the library in Bangor and read whatever I could. I also talked on the way up and back to some dealers, without saying why or giving my name.'
“And here we were spouting off about it at the clambake.' Pix was sympathetic.
“Yes. I know it was wrong. I should have told Earl in the first place, but ... wel , I just didn't. Maybe I didn't want him to know what I'd done. No, make that definitely—I didn't want him to know what a fool he had for a girlfriend.”
Earl put his arm around Jil . She didn't shrug it off and she continued speaking as she leaned toward him. 'Once I was certain, I took everything from Mitch out of the store and put it al upstairs”
Faith gave Pix's hand a knowing squeeze.
“Despite Mitch's giving me a break, I was stil out a lot of money and I couldn't afford the loss. I simply didn't know what to do, so I decided to talk to Seth.'
“Why Seth?' Faith asked. Earl looked a little grim.
“I've known Seth al my life and I knew I could trust him.
He was a good friend of Mitch's, plus he hears things.'
Faith finished her sentence silently for her: Things an officer of the law might not.
“And I thought he might know where the fakes had come from and maybe I could get some or al of my money back. I knew Mitch couldn't be making quilts, though he probably was manufacturing the furniture and the wood carvings. Seth was furious. If Mitch hadn't already been dead, Seth would have gone after him himself. He told me he'd do a little investigating on his own'
“What did he turn up?' Faith had assumed the role of chief interrogator. It was fun—so long as you were sitting in the afternoon sun at a backyard Maine lobster fest.
“Nothing much. We both suspected Norman Osgood, the antiques dealer who was staying at Addie and Rebecca's. Seth fol owed him when he went off-island a couple of times, but al he did was go in and out of antique shops, just as he said he was. We couldn't have been more wrong.' She looked at Earl, who was grinning broadly.
“Norman Osgood is an undercover agent investigating antiques fraud. He's tickled pink that you, Pix, your mother, and Samantha somehow managed to crack a ring he's been fol owing up and down the entire East Coast for a couple of years. The Athertons fortunately did not think to erase their computer files and Norman has been having a field day.'
“I was right!' Faith exclaimed. 'He wasn't a dealer!”
It was Jil 's turn again. 'I final y told Seth I'd have to tel Earl, what with the whole island talking about us, and besides, I missed him. That's when Seth had the idea that I could sel the fakes, just not as antiques. He helped me label every piece as a reproduction—indelible ink on the quilts, marks burned into the wooden pieces. They're very good copies and I have a big sign—'Genuine Fakes, Guaranteed to Fool Your Friends.' People think it's some more Maine humor, like the sign Wal y Sanford has had outside his store for years—'Clams Dressed and Undressed.' It's true, and so is mine. I've already sold two quilts and one of the carvings since I put them out yesterday.”
Such being the joys of confession, Jil went with Earl to join the croquet game, an almost-noticeable weight lifted from her lovely shoulders.
“Is there anything left?' Faith asked.
“What do you mean?'
“Are al the loose ends tied up? Anybody not accounted for? Clues left dangling? Red herrings?”
Pix realized her friend was indeed much more adept at al this than she was.
“I think so.' She leaned back against the gray shingles of the house.
