Two of Aunt Midge’s friends arrived first, around three PM. Colin carried in a huge bowl of his out-of-this-world pasta salad and set it in the designated spot Avery had left cleared for it. Sir Robert arrived next with Francesca, who handed her an expensive bottle of white wine bearing a pink bow. The remaining guests trickled in over the next couple hours, Tilly’s friends included. The Ayers annual summer party typically went late into the evening—plenty of time for everyone to eat, mingle, play a round of croquet, have a cocktail, eat again, and relax by the fire.
Sometime between first dinner and second dinner, Avery spotted Art Smith coming around the house on the green lawn between two stands of blossoming purple lilac bushes. She didn’t know if it was seeing him in sneakers, jeans, and a black polo shirt or catching the slightly intimidating detective ducking under an errant lilac bush branch that made him seem so out of place. She met him halfway across the backyard near the patio, aware that he knew no one else there. She spotted him before he saw her and he looked uncomfortable, like he might just disappear the way he’d come.
“Don’t do it,” Avery said. “You’ll miss the most amazing food.”
“Don’t do what?” he asked.
“Leave. You’ve got this look, like maybe you wandered into the wrong backyard,” she said, smiling. “I’m glad you came.”
“Thanks for the invitation.” He bent down just a bit toward her, something Avery wasn’t accustomed to men having to do at her height. But Art must be at least six four or so. He lowered his voice. “It should be a great opportunity for me to get a feel for the people you associate with. Most crimes are committed by someone the victim knows.”
She felt the wind leave her sails. They hadn’t known each other long at all, but she enjoyed being around him, so she’d invited him. Apparently Art viewed the party through a completely different lens. Fine. She’d have to adjust her own view. She’d probably overstepped, inviting him to a family-and-friends party. “I’ve heard that’s true. Though I really don’t think you’re going to find a criminal here in my backyard. Are there any leads yet on Renell?”
“Nothing I can share while the investigation’s active. But my old coworkers are on top of it, don’t worry.”
Avery led him into the momentarily empty kitchen and gave him the rundown of all the delicious dishes set out on the island, some sitting in ice and others on warmers. She handed him a plate to get started. “You said your former coworkers? You used to be NYPD in Manhattan?”
Art looked up at her, a large spoon of potato salad in the air on the way to his plate. “Uh. Yeah. Didn’t realize I said that. It was a long time ago.”
“What happened?”
He visibly bristled, frowning. “I moved. And I believe cops should live where they serve.” He moved down the counter, heaping his plate with pasta salad, ribs, garlic rolls.
Good to know, Avery thought. That was clearly a touchy subject for him. She held out a second plate. “Need another one?” She tried not to react to the startling amount of food about to spill off Art’s plate.
“No thanks. I’ll just come back.” He caught her eyeing the food he held. “Everything looks good,” he said, the corner of his mouth threatening to tip upward into a smile. “I should have warned you, I’m sort of a bottomless pit.”
Avery laughed and was pleased to see Art give in to a slow, embarrassed grin. “That’s all right. I’m glad you’re hungry. Follow me. I saw an empty spot at Micah’s table.”
She introduced them officially. Micah had met Art Smith a year ago in Avery’s parents’ home office the night of the accident, an upsetting memory for all involved, and since then Micah had only unknowingly crossed paths with Art a few times at MOA.
“Art is a security guard at MOA; that’s how we met,” she told Micah. She bent down so only he could hear her whispered instructions. “He asked me not to share with anyone his connection to my parents’ case, all right?”
Micah nodded. “Of course, understood.” He shook hands with Art. “Good to meet you,” he said loudly.
Avery cringed and left them to jog back toward the house, where she’d just seen Rachel arriving.
“Rachel! It’s so good to see you,” she said, happy when her old friend folded her into a hug. “I’m glad you came.”
“I’ve missed you,” Rachel said, letting go. “It was good luck, me being at Mixed Bag so early the other day and spotting you! I see you run by at least a few days a week. I could never do it; I hate exercise.”
“Oh, it’s not exercise,” Avery said. “I mean, I guess it is. But it’s always helped clear my mind; it’s kind of my therapy. That and actual therapy.”
Rachel’s eyebrows went up. “Oh? Well . . . I think that’s smart, to talk to a therapist after all you went through. I’m sure it’s helped with you two adjusting. How is Tilly doing?”
“She’s all right. She insisted she didn’t need to see a therapist, but she really likes Dr. Singh now. We both still have nightmares sometimes, though. I—” Avery cut herself off. Holy cow, where had her filter gone? She put a hand on Rachel’s arm. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me; talk about oversharing. Tilly is doing a lot better. We both are.”
Rachel shook her head, frowning. “Don’t do that. You aren’t oversharing. I’ve known you since we were six. If you can’t share with me, then that’s pretty sad. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t really want to know how you both are!” She took Avery’s hand and squeezed it.
Avery got them both moving, pulling Rachel toward the kitchen. “I’m glad you’re here,” she repeated. “I promise I won’t let us lose touch again. I want to hear all about you and how the shop’s doing.”
Tilly’s friend Eve burst through the kitchen door, breathless. “Avery!”
Avery stared at her. “Eve? What’s wrong?”
“Tilly just told me what happened to Halston! Where is he? I need to give him hugs! Can I see him, please?”
Avery smiled apologetically at Rachel. “Go ahead and make yourself a plate, and there are a million drink choices in the fridge. Aunt Midge is just outside to the left; she’ll be thrilled to see you. I’ll find you in a bit. Eve,” she said, motioning to the excitable girl. “Come on, Halston’s chilling out in my room for the afternoon, until things settle down later. I’ll take you to him.”
An hour later, when Avery circulated back around to check on Art, she found him chatting with Micah and Wilder.
“Speak of the devil,” Micah said, glancing up at Avery. “We were just saying how your parents raised you girls in the best of both worlds, didn’t they? Peace and quiet here in your little Lilac Grove, and time spent at shows and the apartment and shop in the city.”
She pulled up a chair, knowing she needed to replenish drinks and put out new portions of the salads. She couldn’t sit for long. Thank goodness Sir Robert had agreed to man the grill. Tilly looked completely engrossed in some story Noah was telling, the two of them sitting on the grass near the ongoing badminton game, and Aunt Midge was in her element, laughing with her friends. Avery agreed with Micah’s sentiment.
“I feel very at home whether I’m on the subway headed to your place in Harlem or on my front porch swing watching the hummingbirds,” she said. “I’m sure that was their intention.”
“I remember the spring they bought this place,” Wilder said.
Avery was surprised. “You do?”
He nodded. “Oh, your poor aunt was heartbroken they were leaving the city. You were just a toddler. Tilly came a few years later. Your mother was determined to give you a yard. She wanted to find a bit of her own midwestern upbringing, even though your dad and Midge were born and raised in Manhattan. And your dad’s primary goal was always to make his family happy. Now here we are.” Wilder smiled at her. It was more than he ever typically said at once.
“I never knew that,” Avery said. “And I had no idea it affected Midge . . . my dad must have been torn.”
Micah spoke. “He
was. To be fair, they both were. But then Anne and William never really left the city, what with the shop. I think Midge came to see that. And you remember long weekends with her and Halston visiting, here in Lilac Grove. She learned to drive for you, you know.”
“What?” Avery looked from Micah to Wilder. “Seriously?”
Wilder chuckled, nodding along with Micah. “Margery Millicent Ayers never once sat behind the wheel of a car until you were four years old and demanded she’d better visit you every day at your new house. Well. She didn’t visit every day, obviously, but she made me teach her to drive beginning the day you figured out how to use the phone to call and make your demand. She had her license two weeks later. She was determined.”
Avery turned and looked toward the patio, where Aunt Midge was reclining on the wicker love seat alongside her best friend, Lucille, the two of them sharing some private joke. “I never knew. I’ve always wondered if she regrets being here with us this past year instead of her plush Fifth Avenue apartment. She doesn’t seem to.”
“She’s exactly where she wants to be,” Wilder confirmed.
Avery stood. “Thank you for that.” She was surprised Midge hadn’t ever shared that story herself, at least the part about learning to drive. Avery had a pang, wishing her dad could somehow know how easy his sister had made it look, fitting herself into their lives full-time now, lending the support she and Tilly needed. Avery was too busy with work to be a good parent substitute to her sister. Midge had stepped up at a crucial time in both their lives.
She stopped by the grill, where Sir Robert was finishing the next batch of ribs. He and Francesca were discussing destination options for their summer trip to Europe, with input from Nate Brennan.
“I bet Avery will agree,” Nate said as she approached.
“With what?”
“I was telling them about Monaco. Francesca’s been, but Sir Robert hasn’t. They’ve just missed the Monaco Grand Prix, but there’s Monte Carlo and so many other things to see and do.”
“Aunt Midge took me and Tilly to Monaco for the international yacht show a few years ago. I’d agree it’s a fabulous place. But personally, I’d choose Romania.” Avery swiped a bit of sauce to sample. “The countryside is so beautiful this time of year.” Granted, she’d been only once, but it had made an impression.
Francesca smiled. “Thank you! Sir Robert is on the fence, and I’ve been trying to tell him we’ve got to check out Romania.”
As she left them to drift over to Goldie’s little group, she heard Nate say, “Avery’s right. I crashed at my buddy’s place in Braşov on the way to Paris, and man oh man, the view is sick.” She smiled to herself. She’d never really know how much of Nate’s demeanor was real and how much was for show.
“May I freshen your drinks?” Avery asked, holding a hand out for Goldie’s empty glass.
Goldie was seated with, to Avery’s surprise, Colin and Prince Ivan. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’d make introductions, but it looks like you’ve already met?”
“We attended the MOA gala last year,” Colin said. “We spotted the intrepid Goldie Brennan just now and had to come say hello. We’ve got our tickets for next weekend!”
Goldie beamed from the compliment. “There are big things in store!” She winked at Avery.
Colin reached up and placed a hand on Avery’s forearm. “Avery, this is a lovely party. You must have Midge bring you and your sister over for dinner sometime; we’d love to return the hospitality.”
She patted his hand. The stunning ring on Colin’s left hand caught her eye, and she held it lightly in her own for a moment. “Oh my. What a gorgeous ring!”
Colin held his hand out at arm’s length, displaying a unique, gold-embossed band inlaid with small, tasteful diamonds. “Thank you! We just got them, our anniversary bands. Show her yours,” he said, tapping his husband’s knee.
Prince Ivan leaned forward and displayed his ring proudly. His was the converse of Colin’s, a brushed titanium band, but with the same pattern and set of sparkling diamonds.
“Wow,” Avery breathed. “Those are gorgeous! Did you design them yourselves?”
“Oh no,” Prince Ivan replied. “We found the set at a really great jewelry shop below the High Line. It’s called Rizzolo’s.”
“Really?” Goldie spoke. “I believe that’s the shop that handles some of the independent appraisals our collectors have gotten. Nate would know for sure.”
“They’ve got so much unique stuff,” Colin said. “If you’re ever in need of rings . . .” He raised an eyebrow at Avery.
She laughed. “I think it might be a while. My closest contact at the moment is quite possibly my aunt’s dog.”
Colin pulled a sad face at her. “I have lots of amazing friends, Avery. Some are even straight. I’ll set you up anytime you’re ready.”
Avery’s eyes widened. “My God, what has Aunt Midge been saying about me?” She shook her head, smiling.
Colin sat back, putting his hands up. “Nothing! Not a thing. And maybe you don’t need any help. We saw you chatting with that one,” he said, tipping his head toward Art.
“Oh, ah, he’s a friend of mine though the museum,” Avery said. “Goldie, I’ll be right back with your drink.”
Moose tracks. Pralines and cream. Blueberry. Birthday cake. Pistachio. Why had that upset her? Avery rinsed out Goldie’s glass and poured the wine at the kitchen counter. Maybe because she’d developed a tiny crush on Detective Art Smith and Colin’s comment highlighted the fact that it wasn’t mutual. Butter pecan. Superman. Death by chocolate. All right, that was probably true. Still no cause to get mad.
Walking out to return Goldie’s drink, Avery was surprised to find she really wasn’t mad. She was embarrassed. She handed the glass to the curator and put a hand on Colin’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to be short with you. I guess it’s a bit of a sensitive subject.”
Colin patted her hand. “No worries. I’ve been told,” he said, glancing at his husband, “that not everyone loves a matchmaker.”
Prince Ivan rolled his eyes skyward and looked apologetically at Avery. He shook his head. “I can’t control him. He shows our rings to everyone, and somehow it always leads to trouble.”
“Well,” Goldie said. “I personally believe the best gift of jewelry is the kind you buy yourself.”
Avery smiled at her. “Aunt Midge would agree with you there. Is anyone getting their second wind for round two? Sir Robert’s almost finished with the ribs, and there is still so much food!”
She was finally able to relax by the fire later that evening, after everyone had been amply fed and some of the early crowd had trickled out. The fire pit was situated at the far side of the patio, surrounded by chairs and a few benches. In the gathering darkness, the globe lights strung over the patio through the trees lit the backyard with a warm glow. Avery sat back and watched Aunt Midge circulate with a pitcher of frozen margaritas, filling cups here and there for the adults. Noah, Tilly, and her trio of friends had claimed the side of the fire nearest the lawn and were taking turns roasting marshmallows. Someone had changed the music playlist, and Avery liked the eclectic mix of contemporary and alternative soft rock.
The detective took the empty seat next to her and handed her a fresh beer; he must have noticed what she’d been drinking earlier.
“Hi,” she said, surprised. “I wasn’t sure if you’d left.”
“Nope. Just finishing a game of croquet in the dark back there with Nate and Sir Robert.”
“I won,” Sir Robert said, he and Nate coming up behind them and finding chairs a couple yards away. Francesca came from the kitchen carrying a platter of dessert bars. She handed them to Wilder to pass, and Sir Robert captured her hand, pulling her toward him. “What’s my prize?”
Francesca perched on his knee. “For winning at hitting a ball through a little wire hoop? You think you deserve a big prize, do you?” Her dark hair brushed Sir Robert’s face as she planted a kiss on him.
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“That’ll work.” Sir Robert grinned.
On Avery’s other side, opposite Art, Micah leaned toward her. “I’m sorry, Avery, but I should get going. Long drive and all that.”
She nodded. “Of course. Listen, I wanted to show you something I found. Remind me tomorrow, all right?” It was one more thing to add to the growing list of concerns surrounding their work. She was thankful they’d been able to get through most of the party without discussing any of it.
“Will do. You and Tilly are coming to the house first? What time are you thinking?”
“Hmm. How about around eleven? Have you had a chance yet to see if you’ve still got any of the initial notes from the medallion case? Any kind of communication with that collector who called me?”
Micah groaned. “I completely forgot. I’ll get into my storage after Noah leaves tomorrow night, I promise. It might take a little digging. My, uh, organizational system leaves something to be desired. But I’m sure I’ve got copies of at least the basics; we all did. I’ll bring what I find to the office Monday.”
Avery was well aware of Micah’s organizational system. But even with his chaotic desk, he did seem to always know where everything was. She stood to walk him out. “Sounds good. Whatever you’ve got. I don’t know what exactly I’m looking for, so anything helps.”
Micah motioned for her to sit down. “We can find the car just fine on our own. You must be exhausted. Nice meeting you, Art.”
Art shook Micah’s hand. “Safe drive back to the city.”
Others slowly began saying their good-byes, and Avery tried to keep Art engaged in conversation as much as she could, hoping he’d stay longer. She’d been waiting all night to show him the key.
Chapter Sixteen
Art Smith was the last to leave the party.
Avery kept expecting him to say it was late and he should go, but he seemed truly relaxed on the patio by the fire. She and Aunt Midge took turns getting up now and then to bring out more snacks or help folks gather their things to leave. The other boy in Tilly’s group left shortly after Noah and Micah did, and Tilly and her girlfriends went upstairs to make popcorn and find a horror movie to watch. When Avery came back outside to the patio after saying good-bye to Colin and Prince Ivan, Art had put the wire-mesh cover over the fire pit and was clearing cups and party debris.
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