Chapter 11
ELEVEN
Lacy and I started back down the hall, both of us relieved that Aunt DeeDee was on the job.
“It sounds like Anton is trying,” I said, hoping my tone was optimistic enough, even though it came out more like a question.
I supposed I wanted Lacy to say whether or not she felt like Anton was really hearing her concerns.
Even as a bystander, I could see all of the dysfunction of his family.
It was like a neon sign flashing: PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE, MANIPULATIVE, INSECURE.
“He told me that his family is complicated,” Lacy said, as we reached the closest stairs.
I realized that they were the same ones that we’d taken to the secret room a couple months earlier.
Part of me wanted to step inside and hide away from the rest of this weekend’s drama, but the better part of me wanted to forge ahead, trampling Anton’s family nonsense as I pushed Lacy all the way down the aisle.
“I just didn’t realize that he meant this complicated. ”
We wound down the stairs, through to the main floor, and out the front door into the darkness of the night and toward the Carriage House. “Is his father more… sane?” I asked. “Do you think his arrival tomorrow will help calm things down?”
“I don’t know, but it doesn’t sound like it.
” Lacy’s eyebrows dipped as she thought back.
“A few weeks before we got engaged, Anton mentioned something vague, something about how his dad had gotten into some shady stuff in recent years. At the time, Anton said that was why he didn’t want anything to do with his family’s business. ”
“Shady stuff?”
Lacy blinked as if trying to remember the full conversation.
“He said that his father had begun ‘transporting items.’” She put air quotes around the last two words.
“Anton doesn’t say much about his family, and now I see why.
” Lacy shivered under the cold moonlight, and I put an arm around her. “Maybe that should’ve been a red flag.”
“Or maybe he’s trying to make a new family, a new future for himself.
” I was proud of myself for the remark, particularly because I wasn’t the kind of person to see the best in others.
Still, until this weekend, Lacy had never doubted Anton or his love for her, even when I’d done so during the murder investigation two months ago.
I reminded myself that Anton had been a steady presence for Lacy for almost two years now.
When he first moved here, he didn’t push for them to move in together, even though he knew no one else in town.
Instead, he’d got a little apartment and a job as a short-order cook at the diner, in part so he could get to know the town and the citizenry.
He’d even met Charlie before I had the chance to do so.
Even after Anton and Lacy had moved in together and started having little tiffs about things like who should cook and who should load the dishwasher, he always seemed to emerge from those conversations as a reasonable guy.
No wonder Anton wanted nothing to do with his family.
I said a few of these things out loud, and although I wasn’t trying to defend him, I did want to remind Lacy that his family wasn’t him.
If that was the case, then my discovery of being related to the Finches this past year would’ve sent me spiraling.
Savilla was becoming a fabulous sister, but the rest of the enormously wealthy side of my family was questionable at best—murderous at their worst. Maybe that’s why Savilla had latched on to me and Aunt DeeDee so tightly since the revelation of our biological connection.
“You’re right,” Lacy said, breathing in the night air. “Anton isn’t his family, and his family isn’t him.” She spoke the words with the cadence of a mantra.
“You’re keeping your last name anyway, right?” I said, nudging her. “That way you won’t officially be one of them.”
“I certainly am keeping it now.” Lacy laughed. “Maybe Anton will want to take my name too.”
She was smiling by the time we walked back into the Carriage House, which was the most I could expect, and she kept the smile on even as we spotted the added three participants—Cousin Charlotte, Cousin Myrtis, and Bella Rivera—in tonight’s party, standing at the bar, conversing among themselves.
I was shocked that Bella had deigned to return to the party, and when she caught my eye, I noticed that she kept a possessive hand on that bright pink bag. Trying my best to channel Momma, I moved toward the Texan additions as Lacy peeled off toward Jemma.
“Long time no see,” I said, taking a champagne glass and forcing a smile.
Bella’s face remained neutral, almost as if she hadn’t heard me—even though I was only two feet away from her. Myrtis turned a listening ear toward us, and Charlotte narrowed her eyes as if studying me. I ignored the pair of them for now.
“Given your handiwork on Lacy’s dress,” I said, lifting the glass to my lips as I attempted to appear friendly, “I’m surprised you didn’t go straight to your room, pack up, and leave immediately, out of pure shame.”
Bella spoke this time, her eyes wide as they darted between me and the cousins. “You don’t know what you—or your friend—are getting into.”
“Why don’t you tell me?” I asked, my voice low.
“That’s not how this works,” Charlotte said, inserting herself into the conversation as she inched closer to us. Her voice was light even though her words were heavy, but then she composed her face and glanced around the room. “Is Valerie Hurt joining us tonight?”
“How do you know Valerie?” I asked, surprised.
“Todd—” Charlotte seemed to catch herself. “Reverend Todd introduced us.”
I couldn’t keep the confusion from my face. The priest didn’t know Will, did he? Or had they become bosom buddies in the past few hours? Perhaps Will knew Todd the same way that he obviously knew Charlotte. There was some connection here I couldn’t quite put together.
“How’s their baby?” Charlotte continued, obviously unconcerned about what I did or did not know about this family and their connection to Will. It was difficult to tell whether she was trying to change the subject or was genuinely interested. Maybe it was both. “I know it was a difficult labor.”
“Are you and Valerie… are you two friends?” I asked, trying to get the missing information.
“Tangentially,” Charlotte said, the vague response raising more questions about Anton’s family and their interest in this town and the people in it.
Since I was certain that she wouldn’t answer any of them, I tried to read her body language, her expression, her voice. Charlotte’s posture was erect and her face stoic; her tone was distant, almost to the point of being disdainful.
“Are you talking about Valerie and Will?” Myrtis asked, stepping forward. “I heard they’ve been on the rocks ever since the baby arrived and he lost his job.”
My mind swarmed like a beehive. I felt as if I’d stepped into an alternate reality, one in which I was the stranger at this enormous estate.
It was true that I’d been at college for the past few months but, even so, I was confident that besides Anton, no other Swanson had stepped foot in Aubergine. “How do you both know about…?”
“Recently, Will has become a friend,” Charlotte finally admitted. “He mentioned that the baby’s medical bills have become a bit overwhelming.”
At that moment, Savilla hurried over, interrupting the interrogation I so wanted to conduct. She handed me a spoon, signaling that I should clink it against my glass to call everyone to order.
“We’re running behind schedule,” Savilla whispered. “You don’t want to be unpunctuated.”
Bella frowned at Savilla’s word choice, and a sudden protectiveness coursed through my veins.
I was the only one allowed to question exactly what my sister meant, but, once again, I understood right away.
Savilla wanted to make sure we were going to be punctual and that the evening would run according to schedule, or perhaps as… anticipated?
Reluctant to leave the conversation with Charlotte but also fairly certain I wasn’t going to get more out of her, I did as Savilla bid, dinging the spoon until everyone’s eyes turned to me.
“Ladies, ladies, may I have your attention?” I asked, not quite knowing what else to say.
Thankfully, Savilla stepped behind Bella and the cousins and with a smile, prodded all of them toward the center of the room until the seven of us stood in a malformed circle with drinks in hand: me, Lacy, Jemma, Savilla, Myrtis, Charlotte, and Bella, whom I needed to watch like a hawk.
“I wanted to officially welcome everyone to Lacy’s bachelorette party,” I said, clearing my throat. “Tonight, I’ve organized a scavenger hunt to take us to some of Lacy’s favorite Aubergine hangouts. The proprietors have agreed to open late so we can return to our old haunts.”
Lacy’s face lit up in delight for the first time that evening, and I knew I’d chosen the right direction for her bachelorette party.
By contrast, I just had to ignore the three intruders: Myrtis stared on with a sort of grimace; a distracted Charlotte took yellow-tinted glasses from her hair and tucked them into a pink bag hanging off her arm; while Bella kept her eyes fixed on Lacy.
The night was already going great.
“I have a clue for each place we’ll visit, and”—I dropped my spoon in the champagne flute and pulled the clue from my cleavage, where Aunt DeeDee had taught me by example to keep important things—“here’s the first clue.”
From Archibald to Viola
we’ve seen them all.
Now, tonight, we’ll share
your favorite Law.
“Archibald?” called Jemma. “Is that the stripper’s name? Is he hot?”
“No strippers,” I corrected. I’d been relieved when I’d asked Lacy if she wanted me to hire one, and she’d scrunched her nose, complaining that they were too sweaty for her liking. “But,” I continued, chuckling at Jemma’s question, “Archibald was considered a heartthrob… in the 1940s.”
Lacy took the paper from my hand, and I could see that she was enjoying having her mind on something frivolous as she explained the riddle.
“Archie—that was the real-life first name of Cary Grant. And Viola, as in Davis, so a modern actress.” Her eyes roamed across the second line again.
“My favorite Law… It’s capitalized, so… oh, I know! Jude Law.”
Jemma jumped in. “He was soooo handsome in that Christmas movie. I watch it every year. It has Kate Winslet and that chubby guy.”
“Jack Black,” Lacy added.
“The Holiday,” Bella said with lifted brows, simultaneously stopping the fun of discovery and shutting down all conversation with her abrupt tone.
“That’s right.” I tried to rally again. “We’re watching The Holiday at The Reel.”
The Reel was the only movie theater in town.
It had opened sometime in the seventies, and when Lacy and I were in elementary school, we saw every Disney movie from the creaky seats.
Years later, The Reel had become the most popular Friday night hangout for most of the high schoolers in town, including me and Lacy, primarily because they served refillable popcorn and sodas—and because it was a parent-approved space since the owner, a notoriously gruff guy who tolerated no nonsense, ran it.
“To the theater,” Savilla chimed, while also taking everyone’s glasses and lining them in a row for the staff to more easily clean up.
Within a couple of minutes, we were heading outside, this eclectic pack of gals.