“What is it? Stephanie wouldn’t tell me, and I couldn’t read the label.”
“It’s concentrate, white peach concentrate. You mix it with champagne. It’s very special. Get me a glass pitcher, will you. They’re under that counter.”
Arden opened the can and the champagne bottle, mixed the chilled champagne and peach juice, and filled two hollow-stemmed glasses. She handed one to Ray, lifted hers, and in a raspy voice said, “Here’s looking at you, kid.”
Ray responded, “Of all the gin joints.”
She sipped, “This is superb. I imagine after you’ve given a woman a couple of glasses of this, you....”
“Feed her supper. Would you carry the shrimp out to the grill?”
They went out on the deck, and Ray opened the grill, adjusted the temperature, and carefully laid out the shrimp on the hot grate. He brushed them with marinade and turned them over. As he repeated the process several more times, Jane carried out the rice and salad, and set the table. Ray carried the plate of shrimp to the table.
“I’m impressed by your culinary skills,” she said.
“It’s something I enjoy.”
As they started eating, Jane said, “I’ve been hearing bits and pieces, can you put the whole story together?”
“I can tell you what I know, and what I assume. Hopefully, we’re close to the truth.”
Arden gave him her wry smile, a smile he was starting to appreciate. “You’re still struggling with some epistemological issues.”
“Exactly,” he said returning her smile and sharing her joke. He proceeded to tell her about Margrave’s statement. Then he told her about finding the cylinder of nitrous oxide hidden in a closet in Father Bob’s office. He also told her about the ballistics tests done at the state police labs that verified that the rifle found in Father Bob’s trunk was the same one used in the shooting at her townhouse.
“There’s one thing you will find especially interesting,” he said as he wound down his story.
“What’s that?”
“That rifle, the one he fired at you,” he paused, “and me. We’re both lucky. The fellow at the lab said the scope was way off. The weapon fired to the left. Either the scope wasn’t sighted in properly, or it got banged on something. Anyway, we’re lucky, both of us.”
Jane filled their glasses again, and they sipped quietly, each lost in their own thoughts. Ray was looking at Jane. For the first time in months he was feeling relaxed, for the first time in several years he was feeling truly happy. The dark shroud that had been hanging over him was finally lifted. He was starting to think about the future.
Medieval Murders Page 21