19

BY THE TIME THEY REACHED THE BAINBRIDGE HOUSE, all three were carrying grocery bags stuffed full. Charlie rang the bell and waited for Deke Hanson to open it.

“Lost your key?” Deke asked when he admitted them.

“As you can see we’re loaded,” Charlie said. “Jenna, this is Deke Hanson, the house bodyguard during night hours. Jenna Parish, our guest,” he added to Hanson.

“How you doing, Jenna?” Deke said, taking the grocery bag from her. He closed and locked the door and went with them to the kitchen.

Family members emerged from various rooms as they walked, and once in the kitchen Charlie made all the introductions. Tricia hurried to Jenna and embraced her. “I’m so sorry about your loss,” she said. “Please, if there’s anything I can do, I’d like to help you.”

Jenna looked overwhelmed and more bewildered than ever as one after another of the Bainbridges came to shake her hand and express condolences and sympathy. Stuart was the last one to approach her.

“Ms. Parish, I’m so sorry. So sorry. I met Eve. I’d like to tell you about it.”

“Why don’t you two go out to the terrace and talk,” Charlie said. “Lawrence and Ted, how about if you two take charge of the food. It’s a mix of this and that. I guess we’d want coffee later, to go with the cake. Now, a word with Mr. Paley.”

Lawrence was already unloading the groceries. He whistled and said, “You got pickled mushrooms? And paté and brie. Holy shit! It’s party food.”

“Would you like to sit out on the terrace and let me tell you about meeting Eve?” Stuart asked Jenna.

She nodded, and if it was to listen to him or to escape the rest of the family was not clear. As they left by the kitchen door, Charlie and Constance went out the other door to the hall and Paley’s office.

“Hi, Mr. Paley,” Charlie said, entering the makeshift office. “Relax. We’ve brought Jenna Parish with us, and food enough for a small army. I suggest that you avoid town tonight. It’s crawling with reporters, and there’s a rock concert scheduled for the park, with tons of additional security.”

Paley was staring at him as if he had lost his mind. “You brought an outsider? Why? This is turning into a circus, a farce.”

“Not only brought her, I want her to spend the night,” Charlie said. “She’s probably next on the hit list and I don’t intend for that to happen.”

Paley groaned. He couldn’t turn paler than he was, but his tic got worse and he closed his eyes hard, squinching up his whole face. “She can’t. No one can. You know the rules.”

“Rules were made to be broken,” Charlie said. “Come on, Paley, you and I both know it doesn’t matter who comes and goes or who comes and stays. She stays.”

“Meiklejohn, just tell me when this is going to end. I can’t stand it much longer.” His voice broke and he sagged even more in his chair.

“Soon,” Charlie said. “Is Jesperson going to be available this weekend, it being a holiday and all? Will anyone be there to take charge of the checks?”

“Yes, of course. We agreed that if they were found, I would call and he will be there to meet me and take charge of them, no matter when it happens.”

“Good,” Charlie said. “Why don’t you get some of your stuff and most of the books packed up, ready to pull out as soon as possible after I hand them over.”

Paley looked up with hope writ large on his features. “Soon? You mean it? Soon?”

Charlie nodded. “Soon.”

“That poor man,” Constance said when they left Paley. “Even if he did try to get away with it, he’s still pitiful now.”

“So is a cornered skunk,” Charlie muttered. “Let’s find Tricia.”

They found her overseeing the food being arranged on the dining table. Charlie beckoned to her to join them in the library.

“Have plans been made about Pamela’s body when they release her remains?” he asked.

She rubbed her eyes. “Stuart’s been on the phone with William a couple of times,” she said. “It’s just such a burden for William now, and he feels it’s his responsibility to do what needs to be done. I suggested cremation, and if any of Pamela’s family surfaces, let them dispose of the ashes. I don’t know what they’ll decide. Anything would be better than having her remains shipped to Florida for a burial there. At least I hope that isn’t what William will decide.”

“Tricia,” Constance said, “you don’t have to become involved in this final decision. You have enough on your mind.”

“It’s just that Stuart is so despairing. So afraid they’ll arrest him, charge him. I’m almost afraid he’ll simply get in his camper and take off for Florida, and that would be terrible for him. They might think he’s trying to flee the country or something.”

“Has he mentioned anything like that?” Charlie asked.

“No, at least not directly. But he’s worried about William, worried about this whole mess, Pamela’s death, Eve Parish. Why on earth did you bring Jenna Parish here?”

“To keep her safe,” Constance said.

Tricia’s eyes widened and she moistened her lips. “You think… Oh God, not that.”

“Not if we can help it,” Charlie said. “What I’m going to suggest later is that Ted and Lawrence go to your apartment with you and see that you get inside and the door locked before they go on to their own place. And I want Stuart to stay here tonight, not in the woods in his camper. Jenna doesn’t know it yet, but she’s going to stay here, too. There’s a bedroom upstairs she can use, and Stuart can have the sofa in the living room. I want you to back us up when I tell them.”

She was very pale, but she nodded.

“Now, let’s see what the guys have done about dinner,” Charlie said.

It appeared that most of the food was now on the table. Pizza had been baked, slaw put in a big bowl, paté in a crock, brie and crackers, nachos, a bowl of fruit salad, another of a green salad, three bottles of wines, white and red… When Tricia spotted a chocolate cake on the table, she picked it up and took it to the kitchen. She went to the back door and out to collect Jenna and Stuart, and Constance went to Paley’s door to call him to dinner.

“Better than anything Alice has done,” Lawrence said, helping himself to pizza. “There’s another one just like this in the oven, by the way. When the timer goes off, I’ll bring it out.”

It was nine o’clock by the time the table had been cleared, dishes put in the dishwasher, and leftovers stowed in the refrigerator. They were all milling about in the kitchen where everyone had pitched in to help clean up. Paley had fixed himself a plate and had taken it to his office, but he was there returning the plate.

“Hey, everyone,” Charlie said loud enough to be heard over the noise of the dishwasher and the little bit of talk going on. “Change of plans. Listen up. As you might have noticed it’s past eight and we’re all still here. At around ten or so, town’s going to get crazy again with people leaving the concert, but there’s going to be a lot of them lingering, the way they do after rock concerts. It’s too hard to keep track of anyone in particular with such things going on. I want Jenna to stay here overnight, out of range of reporters, photographers, any one else who might want to get her attention.”

Jenna gasped and shook her head violently. She had relaxed during dinner even if she had been silent for the most part, but with his words she was tense and alarmed. “I can’t do that! I can’t stay here!”

“Of course you can,” Charlie said. “There’s a perfectly good bedroom upstairs, clean sheets, towels and stuff in an adjoining bathroom, and a house bodyguard on duty all night. Stuart’s going to stay here, too. Not in the woods in a camper.”

Stuart looked as startled as Jenna had, and shook his head just as hard. “That’s crazy,” he said.

Charlie eyed him kindly and said, “The sheriff is going to collar you for two murders just as soon as he thinks he has enough to hold you. It would be very convenient both for him and for a murderer if you happened to have a fatal accident first. You’d be named, the case could be closed. Sheriff gets to go home. No damned trial necessary with its bothersome need for overwhelming proof. You stay here.”

“He’s right,” Tricia said faintly. “No one keeps track of who comes and goes in the state park. You can keep Jenna company, watch movies or something until you’re both ready for bed.”

“But I don’t have a thing with me,” Jenna said.

“There are new toothbrushes in a drawer in the bathroom,” Constance said. “Not yet opened, original wrapping. Help yourself and give one to Stuart.”

“One night? Two? How many nights are we talking about?” Stuart demanded.

“One night,” Charlie said.

There was a sudden silence, a cessation of all movements for a few moments. Ted broke it. “Is that on the level?”

Charlie nodded. “One night.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Paley walk out quickly, and a moment later heard him on the stairs. He thought Paley might have decided to do a little packing.

“So that’s settled,” he said. “Tricia, I don’t like the idea of your driving around alone, either. How about if you, Ted, and Lawrence all leave together and let them see you home and locked in.”

“I have a better idea,” Lawrence said. “Tricia, you have a sofa bed in that apartment, as well as your own bedroom bed. I’ll camp out on the sofa bed tonight.”

Ted nodded, and after a moment Tricia nodded also.

“Better and better,” Charlie said. “And now Constance and I will take off, before the concert ends and the streets get crazy. We’ll see you all tomorrow.”

He pretended not to see the look of consternation and refusal on Jenna’s face, waved, took Constance by the arm, and left for the front door and a word with Deke Hanson.

#

“Here’s another one,” Constance said late that night. She had the novel Eve had marked up and Andrea’s notebook that Charlie had picked up in Eve’s apartment. Charlie joined her on the sofa and looked at the written words, then at the highlighted section of novel.

“How many does that make?” he asked.

“More than enough, and I’m only halfway through. Eve went all the way, apparently. I’m going to skip to some of the much later highlighted passages.”

He had not been able to make heads or tails of that notebook, he thought as he stood and walked back to the other table where he had been playing solitaire for an hour. Alone, the notebook didn’t make sense, but with the printed novel it was as clear as having the Rosetta stone at hand.

When Constance finally closed the novel and the notebook, she and Charlie regarded each other.

“It’s a gamble,” he said.

“I know. But I’m sure.”

“So we go with it. Time to talk about ways and means. I’ve been thinking.”

“Let’s sit out on the balcony and watch the storm move in as we talk,” she said.

Distant thunder rumbled, closer than it had been an hour earlier, louder than it had been. The air smelled of rain, a change in weather, foretelling the end of summer.

They talked a long time, then they sat close to each other with his arm around her shoulders. The wind of the afternoon had died down, and the air had become much warmer and very still, but as the storm moved nearer, wind gusts moved in with it. Lightning flared almost simultaneously with the booms of thunder and the air cooled ten degrees in minutes. When the rain started it was with a scattering of drops, and suddenly with a deluge.

Laughing, they hurried inside, dragging their chairs after them. Rain blew in on the balcony, against the hastily closed French door.

She ran her hand through his hair, always wiry and crisp and now sprinkled with white flecks that looked like diamonds against the black background.

“You’re wet,” she murmured.

“Look who’s talking,” he said pulling her close. “Cold?”

“No. Are you?”

“Yes, and the only place to warm up is right over there.”

Moments later he said softly, “Know what I like about you?”

“Several things,” she said, “but tell me.”

“That you’re always as ready as I am to go to bed.”

She laughed.