The Things We Said Today

by Lise McClendon

  “I’m not sure. Maybe forty-five minutes.”

  He cocked his head. “So, what did you do when you left the others? Precisely.”

  “I turned back toward the river. I couldn’t see Francie. I kept walking around the front of the house.”

  “And then?”

  “I found her walking out of the woods to the South. I did have to call her a few times but she heard me and came out.”

  “So you didn’t enter the woods?”

  “No. It was dark.”

  “But the moon was full?”

  “Yes. But under the trees, believe me, it was dark. Sometimes I can be quite a coward. Besides we didn’t need two lost women.”

  “You thought she was lost?”

  “Maybe. I couldn’t see her so to me, yes, she was lost.”

  He smiled cheerfully. “You had no torch then?”

  “No sir.”

  “So. You and Francine make your way back from the woods.”

  “Yes. We went in the front door.” Annie frowned. “No, wait. We walked around to the back door because our boots were muddy but stopped when we saw that big puddle. So we went back to the front door.”

  “Did you get a look at the puddle?”

  “Not really. But was there a body floating in it? I would say not.”

  He nodded. “And did you see anyone during your travels about the property? Besides Francine.”

  She squinted, picturing the wet yard, the moonlight glinting off the huge puddle, the dark buildings: the cottage, the coach house, the women’s quarters. “I did see Gunni again, from afar. He was out by the gate.”

  “Mr. Gunn? By the pasture gate? That’s a good distance.”

  She paused, thinking she didn’t know Gunni’s name was actually Gunn. She’d barely seen him except for his outburst in the library, panicked about his sheep.

  “He was wearing a yellow raincoat, the long kind. He had it on earlier. You could see that from a ways off.”

  “What time was this, Miss Bennett?”

  “I’m not sure. I spent about ten or fifteen minutes looking for Francie. It can’t have been too late.”

  He scratched on his pad for a long minute then closed it. He smiled and dismissed her. “Very helpful, Miss Bennett, thank you.”

  As she was leaving the room he called to her.

  “One last thing. So sorry, this memory of mine.” He stood by the chair, looking at his notes. “The Frenchman they call Bruno. Monsieur Something-or-Other. Did you see him outside? Or anywhere?”

  “At dinner, then in the library, playing cards. Later in the drawing room.”

  “When you and Francine returned, where was he?”

  Annie tried to recall. “I’m not sure. Francie and I were alone in the drawing room, building up the fire. Then he showed up.”

  “And do you know where he is now?”

  “No sir. Nobody has seen him since that night.”

  He nodded, rubbing his chin. “A coincidence, that.” He brightened. “Send in Mr. Yarrow, if you would.”

  Annie stepped into the hallway, wondering who the hell Mr. Yarrow could be. Was that the old man’s name? Slouched against the paneling stood the chauffeur in his old-fashioned uniform. He looked uncomfortable in the tall, shiny boots and a brass-buttoned jacket, as well he should. He looked like Hitler’s hatchet man.

  He scowled, arms across his chest. His name was Killian, wasn’t it? “Are you Mr. Yarrow?”

  He pushed himself off the wall. “Aye.”

  “Then you’re next.”

  Before the chauffeur could close the door Annie remembered her other mission. She’d been distracted by the interview, with wondering what had happened to Miss Petrie, reliving that moonlit night. She grabbed the doorknob, surprising Yarrow.

  “Excuse me,” she said, stepping around him. “One more thing, inspector. You may have heard my father is in the hospital in Aberdeen with a serious heart condition. He is very ill. Do you have a problem with me going into the city to see him this afternoon? We’ve been so worried, sir.”

  Mr. Grassie’s eyes flicked to the surly chauffeur and back. “Wouldn’t hurt, I s’pose. I may have more questions for you later.”

  “Naturally.” She turned to go, then paused. “My sisters will want to see their father too. You understand.” She smiled sweetly and scooted out.

  A few minutes later she knocked on Callum’s door. His eyes widened on seeing her, as if expecting a quarrel or shouting. Did she scare him? That was sad.

  “Annie?”

  “Hey. Um, do you still have the rental car? Bruno’s?”

  He nodded. “I don’t know what to do with it.”

  “I do.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him into the hallway. Had she really told him ‘I do’? She shook the thought away.

  “Come on. We need a driver.”

  26

  Aberdeen

  Merle felt the jolt of every rock and pot hole in the road from her customary position, squeezed in the middle between two sisters. The back seat of the rental car was tiny and she was riding the hump. Elise clung to one door handle, gazing silently at the landscape. Hills, mud, downed trees, and azure skies with wispy clouds greeted them as they traveled out of the vale, toward the village. Francie, at her other elbow, kept up a stream of nonsense, in her way. Merle could tell Annie was grateful for it, silly as it was.

  “What a cluster this week has been. Here we are, on the road to Aberdeen,” Francie was musing. “Who would believe it? When we should have been— ”

  Merle gave her knee a swat. Callum glanced at Annie, sitting in the front beside him. Annie looked out the side window. When we should have been at a church, wearing gaudy dresses, drinking champagne, and toasting your marriage.

  Elise sighed. “I feel like I’ve been let out of prison.”

  “I know,” Francie cried, babbling on about the police and poor Vanora. “You missed some excitement, Callum. When the power was out.”

  “What did you do for entertainment?” he asked, glancing in the rearview mirror. “No naughty games, I hope. My mother would be shocked.”

  “Would she?” Annie asked.

  She sounded snappish. Callum shut his face down. Merle frowned. Mrs. Logan had been kind to them, giving them the house for the week, giving up her own bedroom. Even if she had turned into a harridan in the end.

  Francie laughed excitedly, giving Merle a glance to encourage lighthearted banter. “Oh, she would have been scandalized, Callum. A class warfare romp, it was, with mud as an extra. The servants cavorting with the guests. Or was it the other way round?”

  “Cavorting with the sheep, you mean,” Elise said.

  “You should have seen Pascal wrangling rams,” Merle said. She wished he had come with them today but the car was packed with Bennett’s. No room for a large Frenchman. “It was pretty comical.”

  “I wish I’d taken pictures,” Elise said.

  “Our phones were dead.”

  “Plus it was really dark,” Francie added.

  “I wish I’d been there,” Callum said.

  “You can’t have known we’d be cut off,” Merle said. “That storm was epic.”

  They discussed weather, insurance, and roof repair until that scintillating topic ran its course. Callum piloted them through the village and onto the main road. Within an hour they’d arrived at the sleek, modern Aberdeen hospital, the Royal Infirmary.

  Callum hung back as the sisters walked from the parking lot toward the tall structure. Merle looked over her shoulder. “You’re coming, aren’t you?”

  He waited until Annie nodded, then trotted up to meet them. Whatever was going on between them, Merle thought, it appeared the ball was in Annie’s court. It distressed Merle a little to see him so unsure of himself.

  Upstairs on the ward Jack Bennett was regaling a nurse with a story about his long legal career. The nurse looked relieved when the crowd entered his room, slipping off to more pressing duties. They all hugged him and th
eir mother who looked like she’d slept very little.

  “Oh, yes, feeling fine, girls,” Jack said, batting away their concern. “Never better.”

  “They say one more night,” Bernie said. “Then they’ll release him.”

  “Tomorrow? That’s great,” Merle said. “Where’s Stace?”

  Stasia arrived a few minutes later with two cups of coffee. Handing one to her mother she demanded to know all about the storm at Kincardie House, the demise of the housekeeper, and every other detail. Bernie and Jack listened with wide eyes then Bernie stood, took Annie’s arm, and led her out into the hall.

  Callum, who had been silent for the most part, hung his head. Jack Bennett piped up, coming to his rescue. “Just a hiccup in the plans, eh, Callum, this storm?”

  The younger man swallowed hard, hands jammed into his pockets. His voice was hoarse. “Yessir. We’ll— we’ll get it straightened out soon.”

  Merle noticed the tips of Callum’s ears reddening. It had been ages since she’d seen a man blush. No wonder he couldn’t meet their eyes. He and Annie hadn’t resolved anything, and on this, their planned wedding day. Merle felt terrible for him, here surrounded by Annie’s family, unable to make any of them happy, especially the one he loved.

  “I know you will, son,” Jack said softly.

  The kindness in her father’s voice must have affected Callum deeply because he rushed out of the room. Stasia wiggled her eyebrows at Merle. All she could do is shrug.

  “How are Rick and the kids?” Francie asked. “We haven’t seen them for days.”

  “They’re here actually,” Stasia said. She got out her phone. “I’ll tell them to come up. They’re having lunch.”

  “Do you remember the housekeeper, Daddy? A bit plump?” Merle asked.

  “I think so. At cocktails. She served us, didn’t she?”

  “That was Jinty,” Francie said. “She’s the caretaker.”

  “She’s only twenty-eight,” Elise added.

  “Vanora was older,” Merle said. “Maybe fifty.”

  “Former bartender,” Francie added.

  “Do the police really think it was foul play?”

  “They think it’s odd that a grown woman would drown in a mud puddle,” Francie said. Jack agreed. The sisters could see the mystery appealed to him. Anything was better than ruminating on your hospital stay.

  “Was it raining hard?” he asked. “It stormed like crazy here.”

  “The rain had stopped. The moon was out, it was full,” Merle said.

  Elise said, “I forgot to tell you. The cook told me this morning that they found the plate of food at the bottom of the puddle. The one Vanora was carrying to the old man.”

  “The food too?” Francie said. “That’s weird.”

  “I don’t know about the food,” Elise said. “A plate was found, and a fork.”

  “The puddle has nearly dried up,” Merle explained. “It was big that night, like twenty feet or more across.”

  “How deep was it?” Jack asked.

  Merle tried to remember Pascal, wading into the water. “Knee deep or so. It went over Pascal’s boots. She was floating.”

  “And you did CPR on her, did you? I’m glad I made you all take that first aid course.” That the course had happened thirty-some years earlier when they were in junior high was not mentioned.

  “Pascal was a big help,” Merle said.

  Rick, Willow, and Oliver arrived and more hugging ensued. They repeated all their storm news on both sides. Annie and Bernie returned, their faces placid, eyes calm but wary. No sign of Callum.

  “This might not be the best time to say this, but I’m going to Edinburgh this afternoon on the train,” Elise announced. Before anyone could object she said, “I changed my return ticket. I fly out tomorrow. I hope you don’t mind, Annie.”

  Everyone looked at Annie expectantly. “Of course not, Elise. You need to get back to work.” Her voice was even but Merle noticed their mother grabbing her hand to keep it from shaking.

  “Since we’re already in Aberdeen,” Elise said, “it just made sense.” She shrugged in apology. “Sorry, Annie.”

  “What about your luggage?” Stasia said.

  “I brought it with me,” Elise said.

  Merle felt a jolt of sadness. They were splitting up. It had been a terrible week, really, with monster turbulence in the atmosphere and in the human world. But the sisters had started out together, with such hope and happiness.

  Leave it to Elise to bail on them, Merle thought sourly as the conversation swirled around her. Just like last year.

  Merle twirled her watch around on her wrist. If she was honest with herself, the joyful week they’d imagined imploded a few days ago. When the storm cut them off, when Callum and Annie were separated, when Jack got ill, when Vanora drowned, things went swiftly south.

  But it started with the fricking storm. How had a weather bomb out of the North Sea changed Annie’s future? Why had they let it? For Vanora the answers were simpler, more finite. For the living, Merle was pissed off about the way the storm had ruined their week and possibly Annie’s whole life.

  She raised her eyes to the ceiling. Anger at the weather— that was productive. She’d end up as one of those cranky old people who shake their fists at the sky and rail against fate.

  Elise, on the other hand, was a realist. She always had been. When the rest of them read their gothic romances, getting shivery about hidden staircases and bad choices in men, Elise had laughed. She exclaimed that she’d never be afraid like that, never run away from danger. Dreary towers and stupid ghosts that clanked in the night didn’t scare her. They were fun. She’d look that old crone in the eye and give her a poke with a sharp stick.

  Elise made her older sisters double over with laughter at her bravado at six or seven. They called her ‘Super Peewee.’ But it hadn’t been an act with Elise. She was naturally brave. As un-sentimental as Annie but truly un-romantic as well. In their Pride and Prejudice world she could have been Charlotte Lucas— clear-eyed and sensible, willing to do what was necessary.

  Merle smiled at Elise who returned a demure smirk. Ten years between them was almost a generation. Elise sometimes teased her and Stasia for being conventional: home-and-hearth, a good man at your side, and all that crap. The youngest child has such pressure to conform, to measure up to high standards of her elders. Elise had finally gone to law school like the rest of them but she was independent of them too.

  Elise was different, her own woman. And that was good.

  * * *

  Elise was the first to leave, begging off because of the train. She had to get her bag out of the rental car, catch a taxi, and make it to the station in an hour. She gave everyone quick hugs and said goodbye. Francie, Annie, and Merle stayed and talked to Stasia in the hallway about Jack’s progress.

  “He’s doing great, as you can see,” Stasia said. “Antsy as hell to get out of here.”

  “Will you go back to the Hydro then?” Merle asked.

  Stasia nodded. “We decided to stay on for a few more days.” She didn’t look at Annie, just kept her eyes forward. “Have some fun now that the weather’s better. Plus I’m not sure he should go right onto an airplane after all this.”

  “I can’t believe Elise is so eager to go back to work,” Francie said. “What a grunt.”

  They walked silently down the hall, into the elevator filled with medicinal odors and nurses in scrubs, out into the sunshine to the car. Elise was nowhere to be seen but Callum leaned against the car, arms crossed, head down as if in prayer.

  Merle tapped Francie’s hand and slowed down. Francie stumbled, bending over to her shoe. “My shoe’s untied. I’ll catch up.”

  Merle and Annie walked on for a few steps then Merle said, “I forgot my purse upstairs. I’ll just be a minute.”

  Annie looked at her, not fooled by their ruse. “Really?”

  Merle grinned. “Talk,” she whispered. She spun on her heel, grabbing Franci
e’s arm and dragging her back to the hospital. They hid behind a sign until they were sure Annie and Callum were speaking to each other.

  “Let’s go get a bottle of water,” Merle said. “The drama won’t start for awhile.”

  27

  Outside the Royal Infirmary

  Annie slid into the front passenger seat without looking at Callum. It was going to be hard to talk to him if he looked at her constantly. And Merle was right, they did need to talk. Callum took his time getting in behind the wheel. She knew how he felt. Or did she?

  She looked out the windshield at the shiny facade of the hospital. The sun was behind clouds now, threatening rain again. “You wanted to talk,” she reminded him.

  “Yes,” he said, clearing his throat. “I know my mother has offended you. She often offends me. She is too involved, too presumptuous. Meddlesome. Bossy, you would say.”

  Annie agreed but kept her peace.

  He was quiet then and she glanced at him. He couldn’t be done.

  He fiddled with the steering wheel. “I don’t know what she told you but— what did she tell you?”

  “That you were engaged to Davina. You never mentioned that.”

  He took a breath. “Yes. We were in university together.”

  “And then—?”

  “We were very young. Twenty-two or something. I wasn’t ready for marriage and— ” He broke off, a bit breathless.

  Annie glanced at him. He was very pale as if scared to death. “And what? Did you leave her at the altar?”

  “Did my mother say that?” He swore under his breath. “It wasn’t like that. I broke it off, yes, but not like that. Vina wasn’t even that upset. She was beautiful— ”

  “She still is.”

  He nodded. “I knew she’d find someone else easily. I didn’t expect it to be Hugh of course. But they seem very happy. He’s more her type.”

  “You and Hugh aren’t the same type?”

  “You don’t know him. He’s, well, he’s more British. Uptight, strict, formal. Everything by the book. We’re in the same field, more or less, but we’re not similar, Annie. We’re really not.”