by Dale Mayer
He nodded. “So you’ve never seen anything? You didn’t see him talking to anybody in an animated way or some stranger you didn’t recognize? Nobody ever put pressure on him or on you? He never told you that he was being blackmailed or that what he was doing was dangerous? Nothing like that?”
She shrugged. “No.”
“Had Joe changed in any way in the last few months?”
“He was more secretive, yes. I wondered if he was having an affair, but, when I asked him, he laughed and denied it.”
“And you believed him?”
“Sure,” she said. “He’s never lied to me before.”
“And yet, when I asked you if there were any problems between the two of you and your marriage, you said no.”
“Because it was a no,” she said. “He told me nothing was going on, and I believed him. That means there was no problem in our marriage.”
“Right,” he said. “And what about the guy who was breaking into your house?”
“He probably heard that I was there alone, and figured I was an easy mark, and he could get in and get out with a few items.”
“And where were you the night Joe died?”
“I was at my friend Melanie’s house,” she said. “And Becky was with me. No, I didn’t set it up ahead of time. No, I didn’t know Joe would get killed. And, no, I have no clue as to who might have killed him.”
“Well, it was a breaking and entering, right?”
“Exactly,” she said. “So it could have been anyone.” She flounced over to the doorway. “Those are the same questions the cops asked me. And I still don’t have any different answers.”
“That’s a good thing,” he said calmly. “You’re not supposed to have different answers.”
She looked momentarily confused and then glared at him. “If that’s a trick question or something, I don’t appreciate it. I didn’t have anything to do with Joe’s death.”
“And yet you don’t seem too broken up over it.”
“He loved me,” she said, her voice quiet. “For that, I will always miss him. Did I love him? I really don’t know. But it was comfortable, and I was happy.” And, with that, she turned and walked out.
Zack walked out behind her without saying a word but not before giving Galen an eye roll at Rebecca’s answers.
Galen sat in the living room of the small single-room cabin and thought about a woman who was honest enough to say that her husband adored her and looked after her and that she would miss that part but not necessarily him. It’s too bad Galen didn’t have a chance to ask Joe these questions. Maybe Joe wasn’t all that happy. Maybe Joe was looking to change things, and maybe Rebecca just didn’t know.
Chapter 8
Gemma stopped at the long house and stepped in to say hello to Tim. He looked up and smiled. When he saw Becky, he grinned and said, “I saw you over by the rabbits.”
She beamed. “There are baby rabbits,” she said.
“That there is. We’ve got five babies right now.” He looked up at Gemma. “Is everybody coming for dinner?”
“Three adults, one child,” she said with a smile. “Becky’s mother has a bad headache, so she’ll likely be down for the day.”
“Oh, dear,” he said with a frown. “Do you think she’d like a bowl of soup and maybe some fresh buns to go with it?”
“You know what? She might,” Gemma said with a smile. “She tends to prefer to lie in the quiet. Then, when she feels better, she’ll want to eat.”
“Exactly,” he said. “When you go home from dinner, we can send you with a bowl.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I just came to check in. What time is dinner?”
“How is five-thirty?”
“That would be lovely.” Turning, she held out her hand for Becky, and the two of them walked back outside again. She stopped on the huge veranda, wondering at how oddly not-at-home she felt here this time. In her teens, she had come year after year, cheering the people on, the lifestyle, the break away from her family.
“Did you really like spending time here?” Becky asked her aunt.
“I did,” she said, “but, like everything in life, things change.”
“Good,” she said. “I’m glad you did. I like being here too. Is it the same people?”
“Not all of them, no,” she said. “Only a few of them are still the same.”
Maybe that was the reason. Everybody else seemed more like brothers and sisters to her back then, but a long enough time had passed, and she was now an outsider. It was still the right place to come because nobody would find her here, but, at the same time, it wasn’t the same as what it had been. And maybe that was normal too. Maybe life kept moving on, and she was supposed to move on with it.
Although that would have to wait until this mess was over. She knew Galen wasn’t a fan of her sister, and most of the time Gemma wasn’t either. But she loved her. They could never be best friends because they were too different, but family was family. And they both loved Becky.
Gemma had no doubt about that. And, for that, she could forgive her sister for a lot. But then according to Becky there was a lot going on here that Gemma didn’t know. She needed to tell Galen about what Becky had said about the ledger too. Not knowing when there’d be a right time, she quickly sent him a text.
While she waited for a response, she realized how being here again had brought up a plethora of emotions she’d hoped she’d dealt with a long time ago. Tim had taken on a role of father, family friend, confident, and therapist. Helping her deal with the lack of love in her life and the excess of narcissism.
She’d blossomed here. Had learned self-control here. More important, she’d learned self-confidence. And, for that, she owed Tim everything.
She couldn’t imagine her life if she hadn’t had this place to escape to summer after summer. She’d have been left alone and likely would have become very introverted. Tim had saved her. Helped raised her. And, indeed, had become the person she’d emulated on her way to adulthood. She’d never forgive herself if she brought hardship down on his shoulders now.
Her phone buzzed. One word answer from Galen. Bitch.
She smiled at that.
“I’m hungry,” Becky announced suddenly. She sniffed the air around them. “What’s that smell?”
“Fresh air,” Gemma said drily. “I know it’s not something you’re used to.” She bent down and picked up a purple wildflower for the little girl. “See these? I used to pick bouquets of these for the dinner table every day.”
“Can we tonight?” Becky asked excitedly, dancing around and clapping her hands.
“Sure. Why not?” And she laughed as Becky raced around, collecting a mix of colorful varieties to take indoors. As soon as she had picked what she could find close by, she turned to Gemma. “Is this enough?”
“Yes, I think so. Let’s go find Tim and give it to him.”
And that’s what they did, running through the long grass. Showing Becky what Gemma’s summers had been like took Gemma back to her childhood. By the time they made it to the long house, they were both out of breath and sporting rosy cheeks.
Tim stood on the long covered veranda, grinning at them. “Aren’t you two a pretty picture,” he said in that calm voice of his.
Gemma likened it the guiding light in her world, and she’d love for Becky to spend time with him.
“This is for the dinner table,” Becky said, proudly holding out her bouquet.
“Mighty fine flowers those are,” he said with a nod. “And brings back a lot of lovely memories. Come on inside. I’m sure Gemma remembers where the vases are for those.”
The three walked inside to see the rest of the clan busily setting the table for dinner. Their loud exclamations over the flowers made Becky’s grin widen and her eyes sparkle.
And made Gemma’s heart sigh with happiness.
*
Galen walked into the long house to see the rest of his group standing off to one side, speaking with
several people. He joined them and casually slid a hand onto Gemma’s shoulder. She turned in surprise, then smiled at him, and stepped back slightly to include him in the group. He appreciated that. Everything about her appeared to be very honest, but anything beyond what she wanted you to see was very hard to read.
Just then a big bell rang. She chuckled. “Is that still the same bell?”
Tim nodded. “It works. Why fix it?”
At her urging, Galen took a spot beside her at the table, with little Becky on the other side. The huge table must have easily seated thirty-five to forty people. He was amazed at the length of it.
Gemma smiled at Tim. “This table holds a lot of good memories for me,” she said easily.
Tim nodded. “You spent a lot of summers here. It’s great to see you again.”
His voice held such warmth and naturalness that she relaxed a little more. She’d come, if just to reconnect.
As they talked, large platters of food were placed at various positions on the table, and Galen noted three of everything, so each group of twelve people or so could work off the same three platters. One was full of massive vegetables, another full of roasted potatoes, and another with roasted chickens cut up. Then bowls of salad appeared. He was amazed at the amount of food here, but he dug in quite hardily.
He stayed quiet as he listened to the talk going on around him. Zack was on the other side of Becky, carrying on a conversation with somebody at Tim’s side, both who were across from Gemma. Galen really appreciated the simplicity of the area. And the food. The vegetables here were … tastier. He was studying a carrot when Tim spoke up.
“They’re from our own gardens.”
“I presume that’s why they taste so good,” he murmured before taking a bite. They held so much flavor.
Tim relaxed and nodded. “That’s exactly why they taste so good.”
Galen finished his meal a little bit fast because he’d really enjoyed it and had been hungry, and, when Tim nudged some of the leftover food on the platters his way, he took seconds of the vegetables. When he was done, he said to Tim with a smile, “Compliments to the chef. That was truly excellent.”
Tim nodded his head. “Everyone here does an incredible job.”
Galen sat back and relaxed, looking at Becky as she pushed a carrot around her plate. He smiled at the little girl as Gemma looked on. “You know, Becky, I’m sure if you asked, they’d show you where they actually grow those.”
Becky looked at the carrot and then back at Galen. “They grow?”
Galen chuckled. “They grow in the ground. They probably have a big garden here with lots of carrots and other things too.”
“Can I see them?” she demanded of Tim.
“Sure you can,” Tim said, nodding slowly, “but we don’t waste food here.”
Instantly the piece of carrot popped into Becky’s mouth, and she chewed it. “I like raw carrots,” she said, “but I don’t really like cooked ones.”
“But how is that cooked one?” Tim asked with a chuckle.
“It’s good,” she said in surprise. “Much better than the ones Mom cooks.”
At that, everybody had a good laugh.
When dinner was done, coffee was brought out with dessert. Although Galen was full, he wasn’t stuffed. It gave him a deeper understanding of how this place worked when several young women collected all the dishes and then brought out pound cake all sliced up, with several urns of coffee.
Becky crowed in delight. “There’s cake, Aunt Gemma. There’s cake.”
“There is, indeed,” she said. “And one of my favorites. I spent many an evening making pound cake here,” she said laughing. “We made dozens at a time.”
“And as I remember,” Tim said, with a paternal smile on his face, “you got to be a right good hand at it.”
“Hard to mess it up.” She took a slice, broke off a little piece, and popped it in her mouth. With a happy sigh she said, “It tastes like memories.”
And wasn’t that an interesting statement. Galen broke off a piece and popped it into his mouth. “I don’t know about the memories part,” he said, “but it’s really good.”
Gemma smiled at him.
When the conversation wound down, and the rest of the dishes were cleaned away, Galen got to his feet, looked over at Becky. “How about a walk to take a look at the garden where you can see the carrots grow?”
“Yes!” She pushed back her chair and started to leave, then stopped, came back to look at Tim, and said, “Thank you very much for my dinner.”
A pleased smile broke across his face, and he tilted his head in her direction. “You are most welcome.”
Galen looked down at Gemma. “You want to come?”
She smiled at him. “Sure.” She stood, and he held out his hand, surprised when, quite naturally, she took it.
Hand in hand, the two of them walked out with Becky racing ahead.
As they got outside, Gemma asked quietly, “Were you trying to keep me away from them?”
“No, not at all,” he said. “I just thought Becky might feel more comfortable if you were with us.”
“She probably would be,” Gemma said, “but she’s taken to you quite naturally.”
“You told her that I was a friend of yours,” he said, “and that gave her a stamp of approval.”
“I was hoping it would.”
“You know Tim quite well?”
“I’ve known Tim for decades,” she said.
“You obviously didn’t have too grand of a childhood if you found your love and acceptance here among strangers.”
“No,” she said. “It wasn’t a good childhood at all. For my sister it was. She was the chosen one, the beautiful child, and the perfect little baby. I was the solemn, quiet, and slightly gawky older child, who did everything that she was told but never with the same grace or beauty as my sister.”
No rancor was in her voice. No criticism, disappointment, or resentment. He appreciated that. “And, then again, you were also a simpler child. You preferred a garden of fresh vegetables to the latest makeup, pretty toy, or seeing the newest shopping center. I presume your mother was more high-maintenance, like Rebecca?”
“And my father,” she said with a smile. “They were both clotheshorses and were all about appearances. They wouldn’t have wanted to touch the ground with their fingers, no way, no how.”
“I’m surprised they even let you come here.”
“Don’t be,” she said. “I begged to come the first time, and, after that, I wouldn’t leave them alone because I just kept wanting to come back.”
“Do you think they ever did any kind of research into this place to make sure you were safe?”
She tilted her head to the side as they walked. “I don’t know,” she said. “The first time I came for three weeks. The second time I came for six. Then, after that, I came for the whole summer holiday.”
“That would have built a divide between you and your sister.”
“Yes. She hated the very idea of this place, didn’t see the draw to me, but the divide was already there, so it didn’t need a whole lot of building.”
“Yet you still look after her.”
“She’s still my sister,” she said. “It doesn’t really matter how one looks at it. Blood is blood.”
“As long as some reciprocity exists in the relationship.”
“I’m not sure about that,” she said. “I suffer no illusions where my sister is concerned. I don’t want to say that she’s shallow, but I know that’s how she appears.”
“She absolutely appears that way,” he said with a laugh. “It’s hard to see her in any other light. And, if you doubt it, just wait until she opens her mouth.”
“And I’m not sure that’s fair,” she said. “My parents were similar in many ways.”
“That surprises me,” he said.
“Why? People like her grow up to be adults too,” she said with a smile. “Then they find others who are the same wa
y, and they marry, start another generation with the same issues.”
“Good point,” he said. “Was Joe like that?”
She shook her head. “No. Not at all. Joe was very special. He was a good man.”
“And maybe deserved more than her?”
“You’d have pissed him right off if you’d said something like that to him,” she said, laughing. “He was head over heels in love with her. He knew who she was, what she was, and he loved her in spite of it.”
“Good for him. And even luckier for her,” he said.
“Exactly,” she replied with a smile.
They walked up to a large fenced area. Becky stared in from the outside. “What is all this?” she cried out.
From what he could see, it was a massive garden, several hundred feet long and wide. “This is a really big garden,” he murmured.
“A lot of people are here now,” Gemma said, “but it wasn’t this big when I was here originally. It’s definitely grown. A lot.” She opened the gate and let Becky in. Slowly they wandered up and down the aisles, where she could see everything growing, from beets and radishes to lettuce, carrots, potatoes, and even peanuts.
The back section had nut trees and fruit trees. When Becky saw the first recognizable vegetable she was enthralled. She asked a dozen questions, and Galen had to admit he was happy to see the innocence of her young mind as she caught on to where her food came from. She danced and clapped her hands with joy, even as the sun started to set. She looked over at the beautiful sunset and gave a happy sigh. “This is a beautiful place, Auntie Gemma.”
“It is. Now you know why I came here so often.”
“Why don’t you still come?” she asked. “I could come with you.”
She chuckled. “Who knows? But it is definitely time for bed.”
“Really? It’s too early. It’s time to go back maybe, but not to bed.”
“Well, I guess it depends on how tired you are,” she said. “Let’s head to the cabins before we can’t see the path in front of us. It gets really dark at night here.”
Galen noted Zack standing outside their cabin, and, as he saw them, he walked down the stairs to join them.
