Chapter 14
AFTER RUTH LEAVES, ALEX RETREATS TO HIS OFFICE. I HAVEN’T SEEN anything of Sunny, and her car isn’t in the driveway. Maybe she went into town, or maybe back to Boston. That would be nice.
I work in my room on my novel for a couple of hours until my back aches. Then I decide to go outside and stretch.
The sunshine that was out this morning has faded behind the clouds and the air is chilly, summer temperatures long gone for the year.
I walk over to the lake and out to the end of the Spencer dock.
The dark water is nearly still, like glass.
A family of ducks glides by headed to the far end of the lake, where the water grows marshy with cattails and pussy willows.
I zip up my jacket, pull my hair back, and slip it into the hair tie I found in my pocket. Footsteps sound behind me and I whirl around. Noah, his dark hair fluttering in the breeze.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says.
“You didn’t,” I lie.
“How’s it going?” he asks, standing at my side.
We look out across the lake together where the Thompsons’ house rises among the trees.
“Okay. Ruth stopped by this morning with news.”
“I heard. The investigation is officially a murder investigation.”
I bury my cold hands in my pockets. “That’s what Ruth said.”
“Hard to believe.”
“Even with that wound on the back of Simon’s head? That is certainly suspicious.”
“Yeah, I know. I just can’t fathom who would’ve wanted to hurt him. Detective Bellman stopped at my place after he’d been to Ruth’s. Questioned me for over an hour.”
“What did you tell him?”
I take a step away from Noah, landing near the dock’s edge. I try to catch his gaze, but his eyes are firmly fastened across the lake.
“Not much I could tell him, but he’s convinced somebody in our little enclave knows something.”
“Like who?”
“Damned if I know, Emma. There’s a lot of history here. A lot of secrets over the years, but I wouldn’t have thought murder was something anyone had up his or her sleeve. And why Simon?”
“Speaking of over the years, Sunny made a point of telling me that the bedroom I’m staying in was Mary’s. That she died there.”
Noah shakes his head and drops his gaze to the dock. “Freaking Sunny. Don’t listen to her.”
“So, it’s not true?”
“I really don’t know. I wasn’t here when it happened.”
“So, why did Sunny say that?” I bristle.
“Because she’s Sunny. Just to upset you, I bet.”
“What do you think happened to Mary?”
“I don’t know the details. I was just a little kid, and I was at summer camp.
My parents told me that she had an allergic reaction and died.
It was really sad. I remember one time Mary showed me her EpiPen when I asked her about it.
I heard she had to give herself a shot if she ate something she shouldn’t have.
So, I was interested the way kids are. But that’s all I know.
When I came home from camp, I walked through the woods to the Spencer cemetery and saw her grave.
I didn’t want to ask too many questions.
Everyone was pretty upset. Alex’s parents hadn’t been dead a year. ”
“So, Mary could’ve died in my room?”
“It’s possible. But I wouldn’t necessarily believe anything Sunny says.”
“It’s sad that Mary died so young. What was she like?”
Noah runs his hand through his hair, which was tousled by the chilly breeze.
“Beautiful. Sweet. I had a secret crush on her. She had lots of friends who’d come by to swim and hang out.
I was the pesky little kid next door who used to hang around, but Mary was always nice to me.
The summer she died, she was home from college, just graduated.
” Noah glances down at the dock, kicks at a loose board.
“Anyway, I’m taking a break; you want to ride into town, get some lunch?
You can tell me how your writing is going. Get our minds off of all this crap.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
The café is warm and looks out on the little downtown where tourists crowd the roads.
Noah and I sit with our sandwiches at a round table near a plate glass window.
It feels so normal to be out and about, and I realize that hiding away at Spencer House might not be the best thing, especially now with a murder investigation in the works.
Between Detective Bellman and Sunny, and the house itself, I was starting to feel a little hemmed in, caught in a strange little world.
Noah takes a bite of his tuna on rye, chews slowly, and looks at me closely. “You never said how you were related to the Spencers.”
Heat rushes to my face and I set my sandwich back in its basket. “No, I didn’t.” I pick up a chip and break it into two pieces.
“I’m just curious. But if I had to place a bet, I’d say you were Alex’s daughter.”
I try to stifle a gasping breath. “What makes you say that?”
“I don’t mean to get in your business, Emma.”
Why are you then?
“It’s just the family resemblance,” he says.
“And you’d be the right age for Alex to have had a youthful fling that he hasn’t told anyone about.
He’s not got the best track record with women.
Liliana is wife number three and there were others that he didn’t marry.
” Noah leans back in his chair. “And it seemed strange to me that he’d invite you to stay at Spencer House if you weren’t someone close to him.
I’ve never known anyone to visit overnight, let alone stay at the house like you have, not in years anyway. ”
I toss my crumpled napkin on the table, my heart thumping in my chest. Sunny’s words come back to me. Don’t tell Noah anything.
He reaches across the table and squeezes my arm. “Sorry. It really is none of my business. And I won’t say anything to anyone.”
I glance up and meet his eyes. “Alex hasn’t told anyone.
And I’m really not sure why, so I haven’t said anything either.
” Except to Detective Bellman, but I don’t think he would tell anyone.
Maybe put it in his report, but it’s not like he’s going to gossip about me at the grocery store or anything. I don’t think so anyway.
“No big deal, really,” Noah says. “Forget I brought it up.”
I nod, my pulse slowing. What is the big deal?
“Fine. I’m just getting used to it all. My mother wouldn’t tell me about Alex.
I only found out a couple of months ago after she died.
And I certainly didn’t expect all of this.
And now a murder. I don’t know what to think about anything right now.
Alex has been so nice, but everything else.
” I shake my head. “I’m thinking of moving to Portland. ”
“Why Portland?”
“It seems like a nice place. I love the coast. Growing up I always thought I’d make my way to New England to the sea, eventually. Then when I found out about Alex, it seemed to all make sense in some cosmic way.”
“Portland’s a nice town. Not too big, but big enough. No plans to go back to Albany?”
“No.”
“You have anybody back there?”
“An ex-husband.” I pick up my sandwich. And loan sharks who are after me.
“Sorry about that.”
“Have you been married?” Time to put him on the hot seat.
“Once. For a couple of years. Madison and I went our separate ways six years ago. We were both young. Both from the same background. Her family and mine knew each other in Boston. Moved in the same circles.”
“What happened?”
He shrugs. “We were just too different in the end. We were young when we got together. You grow and change. She liked the parties and the nightlife, and I did too for a while. But as I settled more and more into my work, we drifted apart, as the cliché goes. The split was amicable, mostly.”
I wipe chip crumbs from my hands. “What are you working on right now?”
“An article about a homeless shelter in Boston, highlighting the lives of three different people who are staying there. They come from completely different backgrounds. The point of the story is homelessness can happen to anyone.”
“I totally believe it.” I think about how close Mom and I had come over the years to being on the streets. We lived in enough ratty apartments that homelessness seemed just around the corner more than once. “That’s something that needs to be told.”
“Yeah, I’m pleased with the article so far. Speaking of, I probably should get back to work.”
We stand, pick up the leavings of our lunches.
“How’s your project coming, by the way?” Noah asks.
“It’s a novel,” I blurt out. “It’s coming along in spurts.”
His gaze meets mine. “Not a thriller like Alex writes?”
“No, not at all. No one gets hurt in my story, at least not physically.”
“Sounds good. I’d love to read it if you need some feedback or anything.”
“I’ll let you know.”
We ride back to Cheshire Lake, and I wonder as we wait for the metal gates to swing open just how long I want to stay here.
My interview in Portland is a couple of weeks away, and I haven’t mentioned it to Alex or anyone.
I wanted to see how far entwined into this new family I wanted to become, and that answer is still an unknown.