Phillip stood up abruptly. “What can he want now? We just left him.” He brushed impatiently past Meg and went down the stairs.
The chief was still standing in the hallway, looking uncomfortable. Seth had come as far as the living room door to greet the chief but still hung back, and Meg joined him.
“Chief Bennett, what’s this all about?” Phillip demanded. “Is Miriam all right?”
“Luckily, yes. I wanted to let you know that Richard Del Monte has been taken into custody. He did not go easily.”
Phillip responded quickly. “I didn’t expect otherwise. Where did you find him?”
“As you know, Miriam Del Monte was released from our custody, and she was taken to her father-in-law’s house. Anthony Del Monte was there when she arrived. He was informed that the police were looking for his son, although no arrest warrant had been issued yet. Then the police left. Anthony Del Monte apparently thought the best solution would be to talk with his son and his daughter-in-law together, and convince Ricky to turn himself in, so he called Ricky on his cell and asked him to come over. Ricky did. It should be no surprise to you that when he heard what Miriam had done, he lost his temper and physically assaulted his wife. His father tried to separate them, and when he was unsuccessful, he called the police, who arrived quickly and took him into custody. Miriam escaped with only a few bruises.”
“Thank goodness,” Phillip said quietly.
“As you might guess,” the chief went on, “Anthony Del Monte will not be able to smooth this incident over, and no doubt it will appear on the news shortly.” Chief Bennett hesitated a moment. “There’s one more thing, Phillip,” he said. “You know I’ve held you accountable for what happened to my son?”
“Yes, you made that clear at the time. I understood how you felt.”
The chief nodded, once. “What you may not have known is that Ricky Del Monte was the person who attacked Tommy in the holding cell. But even then Ricky was outside the reach of the law, because of his father and . . . other connections. No one would testify against him, so no charges were ever brought.” He took a deep breath. “So I have to say that I’m glad he’s finally been arrested, on a far more serious charge, although I wouldn’t have wished such an ending on his father. But it was wrong of me to put the responsibility for what happened to Tommy on you, and Richard Del Monte will finally pay the price. I apologize if I took out my anger on you.”
“Bill, I’m a father, too. I can certainly understand what you felt then.”
“Ironic, isn’t it, that your daughter was the one who started this ball rolling?” Chief Bennett turned to Meg. “I did listen to what you told me, Meg, even though I thought your conjectures were improbable. But you were right—clearly you’re your father’s daughter.” He regarded the group again. “That’s all I came to say.”
“Thank you for telling us, Bill,” Phillip said. “Let me see you out.” The two men walked out the front door together.
After the door had closed, Elizabeth came down the stairs, wearing a terry-cloth robe and still toweling her hair. “I heard voices, but I wasn’t decent. What did I miss? Where’s Phillip?”
“He’s saying good-bye to Chief Bennett, outside,” Meg told her. “The chief came by to say that Ricky Del Monte lost it when he found out what Miriam had done, and attacked her. His father called the police, and he was picked up at his father’s house.”
“So is it over now? The police know what happened with Enrique and Arthur? What about Miriam?”
“She wasn’t harmed, but we don’t know if she’ll be charged, or with what.”
Phillip returned, shutting the front door behind him after a gust of cold air followed him in. When he spotted his wife, he said, “They told you?”
She crossed quickly to him and hugged him, then stepped back. “They did. Oh, Phillip, what a sad mess! That boy should have gotten help years ago, and now more people have suffered. What will the police do with Miriam?”
“I would guess that the police will go easy on her, given the circumstances. I’ll help if I can, but I can’t lose sight of the fact that she betrayed both Arthur and me, and put us all at risk. She knew what her husband was capable of.”
And that made her as guilty as he was, Meg thought to herself.
29
Dinner at the club was a subdued affair, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Over coffee—everyone had declined dessert—Elizabeth said to Meg, “Not exactly the honeymoon you and Seth had planned, was it, darling?”
“No, but it’s kind of typical of our luck, Mother,” Meg replied with a rueful smile. “Seth, I think you deserve some kind of medal—for patience, for not whining, for letting me do what I thought I had to. Right or wrong.”
Seth glanced at his companions around the table. “I believed you were right. If I had thought you were wrong, I would have told you. But you answer to your conscience, not to me.”
Meg laid her hand on his, fighting tears, and said, “Thank you.”
Elizabeth and Phillip gave them a long moment before bringing them back to the real world. “Will you be leaving now?” Elizabeth asked, a touch sadly.
“I think we need to. We’ve been gone, what?”
“Just over a week,” Seth reminded her.
“Wow, it feels a lot longer than that.” Meg shook her head. “Mother, Daddy—we should plan a vacation where we can just enjoy one another’s company. Just not during harvest season—”
“—or if there’s a drought,” Seth picked up the thread—
“—or if we’re planting a new orchard, or, heaven forbid, starting up a cider operation.”
Her mother laughed. “Just send us your calendar for the next year, and we’ll try to squeeze in a visit somewhere.”
“We’d like that.”
* * *
The next morning Meg and Seth set off early, after a round of tearful good-byes. Partings are always hard, Meg reflected, glad that she was going back to her own home—with her own husband. She remained quiet, save for necessary driving instructions, until Seth reached the highway. “So we’ve survived ten days of marriage, and there’s been only one murder.”
“Something to remember when we’re old and gray,” Seth agreed. “We’re going to avoid the New York traffic, right?”
“If I pay attention to the exits, yes,” Meg told him. “After that it’s easy.” After a few more miles, she began again. “You know, I meant what I said last night—you were a rock.”
“Mostly I kept my mouth shut,” Seth said.
“Don’t put yourself down. You were behind me all the way. Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“After spending an admittedly stressful week with my parents, what do you think of their marriage?”
Seth didn’t hurry to answer. “As you have pointed out on more than one occasion, they’re kind of formal with each other. I’m kind of surprised by your mother, now that I know her better—she’s an intelligent, capable woman, but she’s never worked?”
“For pay? Well, she did before she married—you heard all that the last time they were in Granford. Are you asking tactfully if Daddy insisted she stay home?”
“Did he?”
“I don’t think so. He made plenty of money, so she didn’t need to work, but I don’t think he would have been upset if she had chosen to, especially after I was old enough to look out for myself. She certainly came of age in a post-feminist culture that would have encouraged her to work. Her choice, but I know I couldn’t stand that lifestyle, even if you were fantastically rich.”
“So you became a farmer and married a plumber? Is that some kind of delayed rebellion?”
“I hope not! I like what I do. I like doing it with you. Isn’t that enough?”
“Of course it is. And the same goes for me. Works out well, don’t you think?”
Once assured that Seth knew where he was going—not that she had had any doubts—Meg dozed intermittently as they drove northward. Luckily the weather had cooperated with them, which might be the only part of the last week that had worked out as intended. Well, Monticello had been all that she had hoped for, but after that things had sort of fallen apart. Still, they’d wrapped up not one but two crimes in a record five days. Maybe she and Seth were getting better at this. But she hoped with all her heart that they wouldn’t have to put their experience to work again, in Granford or anywhere else. Poor Miriam. No, poor Enrique, who hadn’t deserved to die because one young man thought breaking the law when it suited him was acceptable, and when he was thwarted, lashed out violently. She had no pity for Richard Del Monte, and only a bit for his father, who had ignored his son’s obvious problems for too long, and who now had to live with the results.
The final time she opened her eyes, it was growing dark, and she recognized the back road from the Massachusetts Turnpike to their end of Granford. “How long was I out?” she asked Seth.
“An hour or two—it’s after five. Almost there.”
“Thank goodness. Can we figure out what normal is now?”
“I hope so.”
Seth made the turn by the big farm stand, then another turn a couple of miles farther, and then they were approaching her house—no, their house. Bree must be home: there were lights on in several of the windows, and the house looked warm and welcoming in the dusk. They crunched over the gravel of the driveway, pulled to a stop, and Seth turned off the engine. “Home.”
“It is.” She leaned over and kissed him, then quickly disengaged her seat belt and jumped out of the car, slowing only when she realized how stiff her joints were when she stood up. It didn’t matter. She strode to the back door, fishing out her keys as she went, but the door was already unlocked, so she walked into her kitchen, with Seth close behind. They were greeted enthusiastically by Max, who couldn’t seem to figure out which one of them to jump on, so he tried both of them on for size several times. Lolly, in her favorite place on top of the refrigerator, stood up and stretched, but waited for them to come to her. And Bree was standing by the stove, which was covered with pots issuing good smells. “Welcome back,” she said. “Still married?”
“So it seems,” Meg told her. “How’d you know we’d be home today? I kept forgetting to tell you when we were coming, but things kept happening so we weren’t really sure until last night. Anyway, thanks for all this!” She waved her hand around the kitchen. “We’re tired and hungry and I’m sure Seth has had enough driving for a while.”
“Your mom called to let me know you were on your way, so I could shoo out all the guys from the orgies. Kidding! And I figured you’d be hungry.”
“Can we wash up before we eat?”
“No hurry.”
“Is all the plumbing still working?” Meg asked, glancing slyly at Seth.
“Of course it is—your husband installed it, didn’t he? He’s good.”
“I know. Let me go and clean up, and then we can come down again and tell you all about everything. Unless Mother already unloaded the story?”
“Nope,” Bree replied, “she said you’d have plenty to tell me but she’d let you do the telling. There wasn’t a murder involved, was there?”
“As a matter of fact, there was,” Meg said. Before Bree could close her gaping mouth, she and Seth fled upstairs.
Five minutes later they were seated around the kitchen table with wineglasses in hand. Max had his head laid on Seth’s knee, and Lolly had settled under Meg’s feet, which suited her fine since she didn’t plan to move for a while. Bree dished up and then demanded, “Okay, spill it. And start from the beginning.”
Telling the tale of the accident in Amherst, which had turned out to be nothing more than an accident, and the discovery of Enrique’s body, and the attack on Arthur Ackerman, and the unraveling of the connections—between the past, the Corey family’s time in Madison, combined with the history of the New Jersey Mob; then fast-forward to the present and Phillip’s secretary and the state attorney who had hoped to run for governor—took the better part of an hour, allowing for interruptions from each other and Bree’s incredulous questions and second helpings of dinner. When they had finished, Meg felt like a limp balloon. And it was only seven o’clock.
“So, did we miss anything while we were gone? Any word from Lydia or Rachel?”
“I’ll bet you two have figured out that Lydia and Christopher are kind of together now,” Bree said.
“Yes, we noticed that even in our rose-colored fog. How’d you figure it out?”
“Hey, I’m not stupid—I saw them together. Enough said. By the way, Lydia said Rachel is fine, Maggie has gained a pound, and they’re looking forward to seeing you when you’re ready. You’d better warn her to set aside a chunk of time, if you’re going to tell her what you told me.”
“Duly noted,” Meg said.
“Any natural disasters?” Seth asked. “You know, floods, blizzards, earthquakes?”
“Nope. A few snow flurries. All good. I’ve held off on the pruning, but that can wait for January.”
“You mean we actually have free time?” Meg said, laughing. “Well, I can get an early start on running the numbers before year-end. You want to take some time off, now that we’re back? Go visit family or anything?”
Bree suddenly looked nervous, and had trouble meeting Meg’s eyes. “Well, there’s one thing I have to tell you . . .” She stopped, as if searching for a way to go on.
Please, no more crises! Meg sent up a silent prayer. “What?”
Bree cleared her throat. “I’ve had a job offer, or not a job, exactly, but sort of a senior internship.”
“Okay,” Meg said cautiously. “Doing what?”
“Helping with an orchard. In Australia. Christopher told me about it, and so I applied, and they made the offer while you were gone. They’re doing some really interesting stuff with creating new varieties of apples.”
“And what did you tell . . . whoever this is?”
“I haven’t yet, because I thought I owed it to you to talk with you first. But I’d have to leave by the end of the month, if I’m going.”
Nothing is ever easy, is it? Meg reflected. “Bree, you have been a godsend, helping me with the orchard these past two years. I wouldn’t have made it without you. But I can’t stand in your way if this is what’s right for you.”
Bree smiled. “Great, because I think it would be really cool to work in Australia, at least for a while. But the good news is, Christopher said he’d help you find someone to fill in for me. And it’s the slowest time of year, so you’d have plenty of time to bring this person up to speed.”
“Then go, with my—our—blessing. You’re not leaving tomorrow morning or anything like that, are you?”
“No, ma’am. I’ll be around for a week or two. And thanks—I didn’t want to feel guilty about leaving you on your own.” She stood up and said, “If it’s okay with you, I’ll go upstairs now. I can clean up in the morning.”
“Shoo! We can handle it.”
After Bree disappeared, Meg turned to Seth. “Well, never a dull moment in Granford, is there?”
“You aren’t upset?” Seth asked.
Meg shook her head. “Not really. I don’t want to hold her back, and I know we can cope, one way or another. You want to take Max out while I do the dishes?”
“Works for me. I’ll see if I can tire him out.”
“And when you two get back, we can go to bed.”
“Now there’s an invitation I can’t refuse.”
Recipes
Cooking in winter in New England has always been a challenge, although the number of fresh ingredients available in
markets has increased steadily. But it’s still cold, so warm and spicy dishes are welcome.
Carrot Ginger Soup
2 tbsp olive oil
1 lb carrots, chopped small
1 lb turnips, cut into half-inch chunks
1 large onion, diced
1 large apple, preferably a green variety, peeled, cored, and diced
4-6 cloves garlic, minced
2 tbsp fresh ginger, grated
3 large sprigs thyme (strip the leaves off the stems)
1 tsp curry powder
4 cups water or vegetable broth
Salt and pepper to taste
In a deep pot, heat the oil over medium-high heat, and add the chopped carrots and turnips. Cook until they brown on one side at least.
Stir in the chopped apples, onions, and garlic and reduce the heat. Cook until the onions are translucent but not browned. Add a half teaspoon salt.
Stir in the thyme leaves, curry, and grated ginger, then cook for two minutes until fragrant.
Add the water or broth, bring to a boil, then turn down the heat and simmer for about 10 minutes, checking to make sure the vegetables are tender (the carrots and turnips might take longer). Add salt and pepper to taste.
You can leave the soup chunky or puree it. An immersion blender is a good option if you want to thicken it while leaving some texture.
Serve it with a hearty bread—homemade if you have it—and you’ve got a satisfying supper for a chilly night!
Steamed Chili-Garlic Cod
This is a tasty recipe that’s great for a cold, damp winter’s night. Flash-frozen fish is widely available even in winter. If you keep the ingredients on hand, you can have a quick dinner!
2 8-oz cod (or other white fish) fillets
4 tbsp Asian sweet chili sauce (also known as Thai chili sauce)
2 tsp rice vinegar
4 tsp soy sauce
4 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
Seeds of Deception Page 24
