by Kasi Blake
Chapter 27
I leant against the metal bar by the entrance of Marion’s Camp, my arms hugging my chest, watching anxiously for Jason’s truck. It was still only quarter-to-four, but I had wanted to get there early and Jason was coming from his job. At last I saw the approach of his white vehicle down the long, straight road toward me and I sighed in relief.
The snow from yesterday’s light flurry had nearly all melted away. Scattered patches of white speckled the edges of the road. Jason pulled in behind my car and parked, coming over to offer me a warm embrace.
“We’re the first?”
I nodded, taking his hand in mine. “Let’s go and wait by the water,” I suggested. We covered the same ground I had yesterday, across the parking lot, down the serpentine path which ended at the small beach area.
He wrapped his arm around my waist as we stared out to the lake. The wind was gentler today, only the slightest ruffling added texture to the smooth surface.
There were footsteps behind us and Sam came down to join us, a heavy red-checked flannel jacket holding off the cold. He nodded to us without speaking, then stared out at the lake, a shadowed look on his face. His hands dug deep into his pockets.
In another few minutes Charles joined us. His jacket was blue and red with an embroidered Patriots logo on its back. Like Sam he didn’t speak a word, just moved to a spot on the beach slightly apart from us and hunched his shoulders.
Richard was the last to arrive, elegant in a dark blue wool jacket. He walked up to each of us in turn, offering a hand to shake, muttering a greeting in a low, somber voice.
At last Sam turned from his musings and looked between us. He reached into his jacket and drew out a screw-cap bottle of blush wine.
“It was her favorite kind,” he muttered, then twisted off the top and tucked it into his pocket. He stared at the bottle for a long moment, then turned and held it up toward the silent lake.
“To Eileen and all her dreams,” he toasted. “She had a heart of pure sweetness.” He took a long swallow, then brushed at his eyes with his free hand. He offered the bottle to Charles.
Charles took the bottle, his brow creasing for a long moment. Then at last he sighed; it was as if all the air eased out of him. He held up the bottle. “To Eileen. A woman who knew her path in life and who could have achieved anything she’d set her mind to.” He took a long swallow.
Richard was next. He gave a wry smile, raising the rosé. “To Eileen, an amazing individual. She could have changed the world. She could have advanced our culture. She never got her chance.” He took a long drink, his cheeks burnishing in the wind.
He then turned to me with the bottle. I hesitated. I wasn’t sure I felt right sharing in their personal sorrow. Richard offered it again and I could see the support in the other men’s eyes. So as not to hurt their feelings, I took the bottle, staring at it for a moment.
“To Eileen,” I offered, holding it aloft. “A woman of many facets. She was kind and gentle. She was intelligent and driven. She had great hopes for changing the world. Most of all, she treasured the friendship of those closest to her, those who supported her in her dreams.” I met each man’s eyes with my own, then took a long drink. I could see the appreciation in each pair of eyes as we turned to look out over the dark waters.
I leant against Jason, and moved the bottle toward him, but he gave the slightest shake of his head. I could feel the controlled tension along his arm where he had wrapped it around my waist.
Several long minutes passed in silence. At last Sam took the bottle back from me, re-sealing the cap. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but after a long minute he stared back out to the lake.
Richard rubbed his hands together, and spoke to the group. “My family is having a small get-together at my house on the eighth, for the holidays,” he stated in a low voice. “Nothing special, just some drinks and appetizers. Seven p.m. I would love to have you all come.”
Sam and Charles looked up to meet his eyes, and then both nodded, cautious smiles warming their faces. Sam spoke up first. “I should be free.”
“As will I,” agreed Charles. “Should we bring anything?”
Richard shook his head; there was an easing to his shoulders. “Just yourselves,” he offered. “It has been too long.”
As one, the three men turned and headed back up the path. Jason took my hand in his and we followed them back up the slope. Something had changed in the way the men walked. They were no longer held aloof from one another; there was a familiarity in the way they moved together.
We reached the cars as the sky glimmered into sunset. Each man came forward to give me a gentle hug before returning to his vehicle and driving off. At last it was just me and Jason standing at the quiet entrance.
His eyes stared down the long road, considering. “I suppose I honestly believe it was an accidental drowning. They seem to be, at long last, healing and moving on,” he murmured.
“I would have to agree.” I sighed. “But where does that leave us with John’s murder?”
He gave his head a shake. “Maybe it’s really not related. Maybe this has been a wild goose chase the entire time. Maybe it has to do with his current investments, or a love triangle at the senior center, and whoever was involved only deleted the story to throw suspicion in another direction.”
I gave a wry smile. “It certainly worked.”
His cell chirruped, and he looked down at it. “It’s work, they need some final details sorted out for that event we’re hosting tomorrow at the Asa Waters Mansion in Millbury,” he explained. “See you at home later?”
“Of course,” I agreed. “I just want a few more minutes here alone.”
His eyes shadowed, but he nodded. “Keep your phone on you, and call me when you head out,” he murmured. He drew me into a warm hug before climbing into his truck. It rolled down the path toward Boston Road. A turn to the right, and then it was gone.
I walked back down the path toward the lake. Something had been tickling at the back of my mind; it had been hard to get a handle on with the others present. I hoped with just me and the wind that I could draw it into focus.
As I came down toward the beach I stopped in surprise. A man was standing there, his tan coat held tightly against the wind, his lean face staring out toward the slate-blue depths.
“Adam?” I asked in surprise.
He started, turning, then relaxed when he saw who it was. “Howdy, Morgan.”
“Why didn’t you join us?”
He gave a soft shrug. “It looked like Sam and the others wanted a private ceremony,” he explained. “I had come out of duty to John. I knew this day was special to him. But I am only a stand-in for him, of course. I wanted to allow those three men their own private time, to spend as they wished. They were, after all, the ones who were there with her.”
“They were indeed,” I agreed, my voice low.
I stared out at the waves for a few minutes. At last I broke the silence again. “It seems so peaceful,” I stated. “As if nothing could have happened on its surface. It just doesn’t seem real.”
His voice was hesitant. “I was going to … no, never mind.”
I glanced over in curiosity. “Going to what?”
He looked down. “Tomorrow is supposed to be warm and gentle. I was fixin’ to take my rowboat out and lay flowers out on the water, at the center of the pond. To commemorate her passing.” He glanced back up toward the parking lot. “I was going to do it today, but Jeff told me that the other three were planning on coming out for their own ceremony. I thought it might disturb them to see a rowboat in the water while they were reliving their memories.”
“That was very thoughtful of you,” I murmured.
“Maybe you would get a sense of closure if you could see the actual spot?”
I nodded. “I think I would like that a lot,” I agreed. “Something is nagging at me about this. Maybe it’s because I keep seeing everything from the shore. Maybe seeing it from
the water is exactly what I need.”
“All right, then – how about four? Just like today?”
“That sounds great.”
We walked up the path together, skirting the edge of the gate. I looked around. “Where is your car?”
“I parked it around the corner,” he explained. “That way it wouldn’t upset the others. I didn’t want them to think I was intruding.” He offered a thin hand. “So, tomorrow at four? Over at the boat ramp on the Millbury side?”
“I will see you then.”
