by Raven Snow
“What?” Margo demanded, glaring at Rowen the moment she flung the door open.
“Um.” Rowen hadn’t expected such hostility from her cousin. She also hadn’t expected her to be dripping wet and in a towel. In the background, she could hear the shower running. “Oh, sorry. Did I interrupt you?”
“Good guess.” The frown Margo was wearing deepened. “What do you want. It’s like the middle of the night.”
“Sorry. I was just wondering if, maybe, Eric, Chester, and I could spend the night. I know you have an extra room in there. We’d really appreciate it.”
Margo’s gaze moved past Rowen, to Eric and Chester. “Now really isn’t a good time,” she said.
“Is someone there?!” yelled a voice from deeper in the trailer.
Rowen felt her face heating up. Seriously? Margo had a guy over, too? “Is that…”
“Jasper,” Margo finished for her. “We made up. Now, can we have some privacy, please.”
“Y-yeah, of course,” Rowen stammered. She took a step back from the door and just stood there in stunned silence for a moment.
Eric started to laugh. Rowen shot him what she hoped was a very dirty look. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s just this streak of bad luck of yours. Come on. Let’s go back upstairs. We can do our own fooling around if that’ll make you feel better.”
“Yeah, because knowing a bunch of other members of my family are also having that kind of good time really puts me in the mood.” Rowen headed back toward the house anyway. Where else was she going to go at this hour?
Eric was still laughing. “It was worth a try.”
Chapter Six
The next morning, it was Peony who woke them up again. At least this time, Rowen was a little more ready for it. Still in her t-shirt and pajama pants, she opened the door. “Morning,” she said.
“Good morning!” Peony replied, sounding far more energetic than Rowen was feeling. “How’d your stakeout go?”
“Fine, I guess.”
“Long night? You look tired.”
“Something like that.” Rowen rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “How can you stand sleeping here?”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t hear Lydia and Nadine and their boyfriends… together?” Rowen lowered her voice when she asked that. It felt like a somewhat awkward thing to say considering that Peony was Nadine’s daughter. This had to be especially awkward for her.
“Oh.” Peony shrugged. “I mean, I guess I know what they get up to at night. I figure that’s not really my business, though. I just stay upstairs. I’d rather stay with Tina, but she’s got a new boyfriend and… Whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why everyone is hooking up lately but… I dunno. Honestly, I’m just happy that Mom has someone she likes again. It’s been a long time since Dad died. She deserves this.”
Rowen felt a stab of guilt suddenly. Of course Peony was right. Her aunts deserved happiness. Who knew how long this relationship would last? They might as well have fun while they could. Before too long, Peter and Reginald would no doubt be moving back to the city. “You’ve got a point.” She smiled at her cousin. “We’ll be down in a few.”
Peony nodded and headed back down the stairs. Rowen turned to her husband who was still under the covers in bed. “Come on. Hurry it up.”
***
There were pancakes for breakfast this morning. It was paired with sausage, eggs, and toast. All things considered, it was quite the spread. Her aunts were clearly going a bit overboard with guests in the house.
Everyone was seated at the table by the time Rowen got down the stairs. Even Margo and Jasper were there. That was a bit of a surprise. Jasper was sitting to the left of Margo, sitting up very straight in his chair. His fine hair was combed back and he had already taken the time to put on a dress shirt and pants. He couldn’t have possibly looked more awkward.
“You’re making me feel under dressed,” said Eric, giving Jasper a slap on the back to try and ease some of the tension. It didn’t work.
“Sorry,” said Jasper. Margo just rolled her eyes.
Rowen picked a seat between Peony and Eric. Once seated, she reached for the pancakes. She took a couple for herself and passed the plate on. She was reaching for the bacon before she realized that her aunts and their boyfriends weren’t getting food for themselves. She left Peony hanging when she was offered a plate of bacon. “What’s up?” she asked.
Everyone else at the table looked up. They stopped getting food long enough to try and puzzle out what Rowen was asking about. Something was going on. Rowen could feel it. Now that she had drawn her cousins’ attention to it, she was sure that they could feel it too.
Lydia and Nadine both exchanged knowing smiles. “Should we tell them?” asked Nadine.
“I don’t see why not,” said Lydia. “What do you think, Dear?”
The man who must have been Reginald kissed her on the cheek. “Whatever you want.”
Together, Nadine and Lydia raised their left hands. It took Rowen a few seconds to place what it was she was supposed to be looking at. When she did, she swore. Both of her aunts were wearing diamond engagement rings.
“Rowen,” Nadine chided. “Language.” Peony swore even louder. “Peony!”
Uncle Norman looked up from his plate of bacon. He squinted at the rings before looking right back down at his plate. “Well, this is a bad idea.”
“All of you?” Lydia gave a huff like she might burst into tears. “None of you are happy for us?”
“Congratulations?” ventured Jasper, looking uncertain about what he should say in a situation like this.
Margo elbowed her boyfriend. “Don’t encourage them,” she snapped.
“And here I thought you would be happy for us.” Lydia sighed as if she had been deeply betrayed. She laid a hand on Reginald’s arm. “I’m sorry they’re not as eager to welcome you into the family as they should be.”
Reginald shook his head and took Lydia’s hand into his own. “It’s fine,” he assured her. “This happened quickly. It’s no wonder they would be a little skeptical. Anyone would.”
“Then why not date a while longer?” asked Rowen. If the brothers knew that this whole thing was happening too fast why were they partly responsible for speeding it along?
Peter smiled at Nadine as he addressed Rowen’s question. “We’ll have to leave town again soon. We didn’t want to risk these lovely ladies slipping through our fingers while we were away.”
Rowen cringed at that. “You know, if you think it’ll take a proposal to keep them faithful to you, you’re definitely being hasty in this.”
Margo nodded in agreement. “Besides, it’s not like Greensmiths haven’t cheated in the past.” Of all people, Margo would know. Beside her, Jasper looked down at the table. She had cheated on another man with him after all.
“It’s the thought behind the act that matters,” said Aunt Lydia.
“It’s the thought behind the act that’s scary,” Rowen muttered.
“You know what? I’ve changed my mind. You guys do what you want. It really isn’t any of my business,” said Uncle Norman, returning to breakfast.
“Dad.” Margo frowned at her father for abandoning their side of things so quickly.
“What?” Uncle Norman asked around a mouthful of egg. “How am I supposed to stop them? They’re impossible when they set their minds to something like this. You might as well just let it run its course.”
“I’d be a lot more comfortable if you dated a while longer,” Peony said, carefully. She looked from her aunt to her mother, making an obvious effort not to upset anyone further.
“This isn’t about making you or anyone else comfortable,” Aunt Nadine said, firmly. “You’re an adult, Peony. Peter and I are adults as well. If we want to get married, that’s what we’re going to do.”
“I’m sorry you all feel this way,” Peter added quickly. He looked at Peony as he spoke, like he wanted his future stepdaughter to,
at least, like him a little. “We’ve all put a lot of thought into this, and it’s what we want. I hope we can all grow closer before the wedding itself.”
Rowen stood from the table, wrapping some bacon and sausage in a napkin to bring along. “Well, I’m gonna head to work. Probably heading back to Lichen Hallow today, just so everyone knows.”
“I warned you about that place,” Aunt Lydia snapped.
“You sure did,” Rowen agreed. “But since when do we listen to each other’s advice?” She headed to the door.
Eric was next to leave the table as he didn’t want to get left behind. “Thanks for breakfast,” he said, hastily stuffing a few morsels in a napkin for himself. “It was delicious as always.” With that, he hurried after his wife.
“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Eric said, once they were both in the car. “Your own mom has been with tons of guys. She’s also been engaged more than once, if I remember correctly. You’re being sort of mean about this, don’t you think?”
“No,” Rowen snapped, though she wasn’t so sure. Maybe she was being mean. Her aunts were getting up there in years. They deserved some happiness. “I guess I just expect more from my aunts. They’re supposed to be the rational ones.”
“I had no idea your aunts were supposed to be rational.”
“More so than my mom.”
“Fair enough,” Eric conceded.
“Besides, you haven’t been a member of this family for all that long.” Rowen didn’t start the engine yet. She looked back at the Greensmith house instead. “You don’t know what kind of a history we have with men. It never works out. They always leave or get killed or something.”
“We’ve worked out pretty well so far,” Eric pointed out.
Rowen felt a smile tug on her lips at that. “You’re right,” she agreed. “At least you are so far. Give it time. You’ll go running for the hills eventually.”
“Doubtful.” Eric leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Have a little more faith in your aunts. Worst case scenario, those two guys are just another set of ex-boyfriends to them.”
“I guess so.” Rowen still wasn’t sure how she felt about the whole situation. She was musing on that when her phone rang. It was Ben. “Hey,” she answered. “What’s up?”
“Are you at work yet?” he asked, skipping pleasantries and getting right to the point. He was good about that.
“Not yet. I was just leaving home, actually… Well, just leaving my Aunt’s house. My house is home to a bunch of wasps right now.”
“Okay,” Ben said slowly. “Well, we’re issuing a press release. We’re doing it on a small scale purposely. I want you to get to Edith Lucas before Channel 2 does.”
“That’s the wife, right?” Rowen was flattered that he was picking favorites. That was unlike him… unless, of course, he had ulterior motives.
“That’s the wife,” Ben confirmed. “And don’t get the wrong idea. This isn’t for the sake of your paper. This is for the sake of our investigation. I want you to get to her first so that you can try and— I don’t know. Magic your way in there or something. Do whatever it is you do. Tell me what it feels like in there, what she’s thinking. Get me anything that could be of use.”
“Can I publish what we find out in the Lainswich Inquirer?”
“You can after you debrief with me. I’ll let you know what you can and can’t publish. Let’s be clear, you’re still working for me in the capacity of a private investigator. You’re just posing as someone who works at a newspaper today.”
Rowen sighed. That was a little disappointing. She had signed paperwork about this, though. “All right. I suppose it’s fine if Eric comes with me?”
“That should be all right,” Ben agreed. “I don’t want you taking anyone from the paper, but it could be dangerous to go alone.”
“Yeah, so I’ve heard.” Rowen didn’t mention what Aunt Lydia had said, but it was certainly on her mind. “All right. I’ll let you know when I have something.” She hung up and looked to her husband. “Sounds like we’re going straight to Lichen Hallow. We have to get to Edith Lucas before Channel 2 does.”
Eric smiled like that was the best news he’d gotten all week. “That definitely beats lurking in a bush for hours.”
Rowen had to agree with him there. “We’re there acting like we work for the Lainswich Inquirer, got it? You follow my lead.”
That got a raised eyebrow from Eric, but he didn’t argue with her. “Lead on then.”
Rowen did just that. She put the car in drive and headed back toward Lichen Hallow.
Chapter Seven
The Lucas household had less cars in its driveway today. There was only the one, actually. Rowen parked behind the silver four door when she arrived.
“Here we are,” she announced after cutting the engine. She took a deep breath. “You ready?”
“Of course,” said Eric, unbuckling his seatbelt. He took a long look at his wife. “You’re not nervous, are you? You do this sort of thing all the time.”
“I do it by myself,” she pointed out. “That’s not the same. I’m not usually working for Ben.” Still, there was no point in being nervous. She opened the car door and headed up to the house.
“You’ll do fine,” Eric assured her. He didn’t sound the least bit concerned. And he was right not to be concerned, Rowen told herself. After all, she had done this sort of thing countless times before.
Rowen knocked. She felt the eyes of someone peeking out the blinds at her well before someone actually answered the door. “Yes?” said Edith, barely opening the door. Her honey colored eyes were wide as she regarded them. All the people who had come yesterday must have known her well. She didn’t seem to be very good around strangers.
“Hello, Ma’am. I’m Rowen and this is my intern, Eric. We’re from the Lainswich Inquirer.” She left out their last name just in case Edith was familiar with it.
“You’re from a paper?” Edith asked, looking from Rowen to Eric then back again. “I- I don’t really want to talk to anyone.”
“I understand,” Rowen said quickly, putting her foot in the way of the door jamb before Edith could lock them out. “And we don’t want to make you uncomfortable. We were just trying to get out in front of the media circus.”
Edith’s gaze moved past them as if someone else might be in the front lawn. “What media circus?”
“If I had to guess, Channel 2 will be here soon.” Rowen shook her head in a disapproving manner. “They always aim for the drama angle. With stuff like this, we like to get there first. It’s important to give the injured party a voice, I think. That’s our philosophy at the Inquirer, anyway. We find that things are a lot harder for the family of the deceased if they don’t speak with someone in the media. They just get hounded by folks like the ones at Channel 2 otherwise.” She said all of this very quickly, hoping some of it would strike a chord with Edith. It was manipulative but not entirely untrue. Channel 2 was a heck of a lot worse than they were about sensationalizing things. “Do you mind if we come in and ask you a few questions? It won’t take long, and we can leave immediately if we make you at all uncomfortable.”
“I-I guess you can come in then.” Edith stepped to one side. “If it’ll keep me off television. I really just want to be left alone.”
Rowen felt a stab of guilt as Edith opened the door wide and allowed them into her home. She entered, Eric close behind her. “Thank you,” she said. “This is a lovely home you have here.”
“Thank you,” said Edith. In truth, her home wasn’t really to Rowen’s taste. It was a bit too kitschy for her. Every surface was covered with some knick-knack or another. There were little porcelain angels and needlepoint on the wall with wholesome sayings like, ‘Bless This Mess.’ Edith herself looked older than she had from a distance. There was a hollow tiredness around her eyes that was difficult to miss. She probably hadn’t gotten a whole lot of sleep since her husband was found. “Do you want to take a seat?” She show
ed them to a cozy little sitting room. “I can get you some tea.”
“We don’t want to be any trouble,” Rowen said quickly, sinking down onto the floral print sofa beside her husband.
“It’s no trouble,” Edith assured them. “I’ve got jugs of the stuff. One of my neighbors brought over more than will fit in the fridge.” She left the room, presumably heading for the kitchen.
“Intern?” Eric looked at his wife incredulously.
Rowen shrugged. “What else was I supposed to call you?”
“I dunno. You’re colleague maybe?” He shook his head as if all of it was unimportant now. “Got anything yet?”
“Not yet.” Rowen felt some general unrest. There was anxiety in these walls, a lot of sadness. She looked around the room for family pictures, but there were none. That struck her as a bit odd. People with this sort of decor were usually on the sentimental side.
Edith returned with a couple of glasses. She handed them both to her guests then went to sit in a comfortable looking recliner across from them. “So, you work for the Lainswich Inquirer, you said? I’m not sure I ever read that.”
“We’re a small paper,” Rowen assured her.
“Well, I don’t really pay much attention to any kind of news.” Edith folded her hands on her lap. “I don’t even watch the television, really. It makes me feel idle, and I don’t like being idle.”
“I know the feeling,” said Rowen, pulling her recorder from her purse. “I always have to be doing something, myself. Do you mind if I record this?”
Edith eyed the recorder. She frowned at it for a few moments but finally shrugged. “I guess I don’t mind.”
Rowen set the recorder up and got down to business. She needed to get some information out of Edith before Channel 2 got there. It felt cruel, but she kept telling herself that it was necessary. “So, when did you hear about your husband?” she asked, trying her best to keep her tone of voice somber.
“Oh.” Edith looked down at the floor. The question had clearly struck a nerve. The murder had happened so recently that she couldn’t have had a chance to come to terms with it yet. “It feels like it was only a few minutes ago, but I guess it was the day before yesterday.”
