“She may not have made an impression on him.”
“He took her to prom his senior year.”
Laurent’s eyebrows shot up.
“At the time I thought Ben was trying to downplay it for Haley’s benefit, you know? But I’m sure she knew about it. So why lie?”
Laurent stood and held a hand out to help Maggie from her chair. “Is that all?”
“When I was all alone and so cold last night and wishing desperately I had your warm arms around me—”
“I must remind you that you would not have been cold and sleeping in a viper-infested medieval castle if I had been with you last night.”
“Okay, but the point is when I was really miserable last night, I remembered Ben saying when I first came to Nice that he had no idea which hotel room was Lanie’s.”
“And now you think he did?”
“One of the maids told me that Ben went to Lanie’s bedroom. At night. More than once.”
“Pas bon.”
“Yeah, pas bon at all. Why would he lie about not knowing which room was hers?”
“Évidement he was not supposed to be in her room, chérie. A married man? It is not diffiçile to comprehend.”
“I get that he lied to Haley about cheating on her, Laurent. But he lied to the police.”
“You think your brother might have killed Lanie?” The look on Laurent’s face clearly showed he didn’t share this theory.
“I know Lanie was pregnant with someone’s baby and it wasn’t her boyfriend. Don’t you think the cops should do a DNA analysis of every man on the tour?”
“What are the odds that will happen?”
“Zero,” Maggie admitted. “The homicide detective in Nice told me they wouldn’t spend any money collecting DNA to prove paternity. They barely have the resources to check it at the crime scene. The only reason they have it on Olivier is his defense team paid to have it done.”
Laurent handed her into the car and secured her seatbelt around her.
“What time is it in the States?” she asked, reaching for his phone in the console.
“You are calling your parents?”
“No, I have to find out about something that’s been bugging me all night—when I wasn’t quaking in fear for my life.” She dialed the number from memory and waited until Annie picked up while Laurent climbed into the car.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Annie I know it’s early. Sorry about that.”
“Oh, Maggie, dear! That’s fine. I am always glad to hear from you.”
“I just have one quick question and then you can go back to sleep. Lanie had her high school reunion this year. Do you happen to know if she went to it?” Maggie looked at Laurent, who was nodding his head.
“Of course, dear,” Annie said. “Can you imagine our girl missing it? She posted all about it on Facebook. I wasn’t in direct contact with her at the time, but I read about it.”
“Okay, thanks, Annie. That’s all I needed. Go back to sleep and I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“All right, dear. I hope I helped.”
Maggie hung up the phone and then leaned her head against Laurent’s shoulder. “Take me home, Laurent. I have to ask my brother a very big question.”
Twenty
Maggie didn’t wait for Laurent to get her door when he parked the car at Domaine St-Buvard. She jerked the door open with her good hand and ran up the slate steps to the front door.
“Faites attention, chérie,” Laurent called to her.
But she couldn’t be careful, or wait another moment. The front door was unlocked and Maggie jerked it open and ran inside. “Jemmy?” she called. “Jemmy, Mommy’s home!”
“Maman!”
Maggie pivoted on her heel and saw the baby sitting in his high chair in the kitchen. Haley stood next to him, a spoon poised in her hand, her eyes wide with surprise. “Maggie, what happened to you?” Haley gasped.
Maggie went to the baby and crouched in front of him. She put her good arm around him and kissed his cheek, then nuzzled his neck. “Hello, little man,” she said softly. “I missed you so much.”
“Go sit down,” Haley said, unlatching the tray on the high chair, “I’ll bring him to you. What in the world happened?”
Maggie knew she must look a sight: filthy, bruised and battered. She settled on a dining room chair and held her good arm out as Haley set the baby on her lap. Maggie kissed his head.
“Haley, I’ll never be able to thank you enough for taking care of him while I was gone.”
“It was my pleasure, Maggie. Is everything okay? What’s going on?”
Maggie lifted her head to see Laurent enter the room. There was an electric charge when he did. She could feel it. And Haley’s reaction to Laurent was immediate and palpable.
“Where is Zouzou?” he asked, looking around the kitchen.
“She’s napping,” Haley said stiffly, crossing her arms, not looking at Laurent.
Laurent held out his arms for the baby and Maggie relinquished him. Her arm was hurting and she was afraid he might slip off her lap. She smiled as she watched Laurent absently kiss his son on his head.
“Is Ben here?” Maggie asked.
“That’s a very good question,” Haley said acidly. “In fact, you might want to ask your husband why your only brother spent the night in the emergency room in Aix. He came home early this morning after I informed him that Laurent was gone, and then only to pack his things and leave again.”
“Where is he?” Maggie asked as she stood next to Laurent and took the baby’s hand in hers.
“He’s staying in Aix,” Haley said.
Maggie touched Laurent’s arm. “I’m going to take a shower and lie down for an hour.”
Laurent nodded and turned to Haley. “Where in Aix?”
*****
Two hours later, Ben walked into the living room at Domaine St-Buvard. He had a large white piece of medical tape across his nose. Both eyes were blackened. Frankly, Maggie was surprised someone hadn’t punched her brother in the face before now. Probably had.
Many times.
She sat on the couch, an afghan wrapped around her legs, a large cup of tea in front of her. Haley was putting the children down for their nap. After arriving home with Ben, Laurent had gone straight to his study.
When she saw Ben, Maggie held up a hand before he could speak. “Don’t tell me. I don’t care.”
“I would at least like to tell my side of things.”
“It doesn’t matter. I only have one question for you. After that, you can leave, drop dead, join the Peace Corps….I don’t care.”
Obviously the process of attempting to roll his eyes was painful, if not slightly dizzying, as she watched Ben put a hand to his head and wince. “What’s your question?” he asked.
“Was the baby yours?”
Ben looked at her and for a moment she thought he’d deny it. His face softened and he glanced upstairs, listening for sounds of Haley and the children.
“When did you find out about it?” Maggie asked.
“In Nice.”
“No wonder you’ve been out of sorts.”
He pointed to his face. “You know your husband did this, right? Broke my nose?”
While Laurent had mentioned it, the reason why hadn’t been immediately forthcoming during the car ride back. Maggie assumed her brother stepped over the line once too often. Seeing the extent of the damage on her brother’s face this morning set off alarm bells in her mind. Laurent had more power of self-control than the Pope. If he hadn’t been able to endure Ben for two days—worse, had been driven to create this kind of physical damage—something serious must have happened between them.
And Maggie had no earthly idea what that was.
She put the thought from her mind and forced herself to focus on the task at hand. The one terrible, heartbreaking thing that she had wrestled with half the night and was most afraid of in the world—that her own brother was capable of cold-bloo
ded murder—was on the table in front of her right now. Would he lie? Would she be able to tell if he did?
“Lanie was blackmailing you,” she said.
He looked down to his hands. A very un-Ben-like gesture, and an admission tantamount to an announcement over a public address system.
Maggie took a breath and dove in. “I can only imagine how she phrased it. Did she remind you of your position in the community? Did she talk about your being a respected member of your parish and on the board of Catholic Charities? I know Lanie. She wouldn’t have held anything back.”
He didn’t speak.
“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me she didn’t threaten to tell the world about your happy event.”
He grunted and then spoke softly, as if afraid he’d be overheard. “She said she’d send out baby announcements.”
Maggie let the silence grow between them for a moment. “There’s no way she would have kept the baby,” she said finally.
“I couldn’t take the chance,” he said, his eyes on his knuckles, his fingers moving relentlessly, rubbing an imaginary stain off his hands.
“So. Did you do it?”
He looked at Maggie with tears shimmering in his eyes. His silent admission prompted a fresh wave of nausea in Maggie. She’d known it, been expecting it, but the reality of knowing for sure was as shocking as a punch to the gut. “You killed her and your own child?” Maggie felt her skin tighten and grow cold.
“Hardly a child,” Ben said bitterly, but he looked away as he said it.
Maggie stood. She was pretty sure she was about to vomit up her lunch and she didn’t want to do it in the living room.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ben reach out for her, and then seemed to notice for the first time that she was wearing a sling and drew his hand back. He instantly recoiled and Maggie realized Laurent must have come into the room behind her. She took a long breath to steady her stomach and felt Laurent’s hand on her good shoulder.
“Ça va, chérie?” he murmured to her.
She felt his strength and calm seep into her and she stood a little taller. “I'm fine, Laurent. Would you mind calling the police, though? My brother needs to talk to them.” She turned and Laurent brought her gently into his arms, his hand on the back of her head. She heard Ben get to his feet.
“That won’t be necessary,” Ben said, his voice hoarse. “But if I could get a ride to Nice, we’ll just do this thing properly.”
Maggie turned in Laurent’s arms and faced her brother. For the first time since she’d seen him this trip, he looked almost…relaxed.
“You are giving yourself up?” Laurent asked him.
“I am. And I’d be grateful if, as your last official act as my brother-in-law,” Ben said stiffly, “you would deliver me.”
*****
Watching the sunset on the vineyard, Maggie felt a new, gut-level connection to the view. Somehow, after her conversation with Laurent, she felt differently about the vineyard. Always before it had been Laurent’s vineyard, Laurent’s project, Laurent’s obsession. This evening, for the first time, Maggie saw it as theirs. Whether that was because it was at risk or because it was now the source of their future (hopefully temporary) poverty, the vineyard now appeared to her as something joint, something integral to their marriage and their lives here in France.
Now when she looked at the sun setting on the vineyard—the splashes of violet and red seeping down into the fields of grapes—she felt like she was looking at her inheritance too.
“Go fish, Tante Maggie!” Zouzou said next to her, her chubby little fists gripping a handful of cards—most of which were upside down and face cards showing outward.
Maggie shifted Jemmy in her good arm, the feeling of him solid and comforting against her, and pulled a card from the deck on the coffee table.
“Got any trois?” she said to the little girl.
“Which one are them?” Zouzou asked, frowning.
Haley leaned over the back of the couch and plucked a card out of Zouzou’s hand. “They look like this, sweetie,” she said.
Zouzou squealed happily and flung the card at Maggie.
“Having fun, Maggie?” Haley asked, then laughed.
Maggie was glad Haley was in a better mood. Her affect had noticeably lifted when Ben came back with Laurent and, since she was smiling, Maggie had to assume Ben had not filled her in on the details of why he and Laurent were driving to Nice. But whatever explanation Ben had given seemed to satisfy her. It wasn’t Maggie’s place to tell her what was going on.
It would all come out sooner or later.
Maggie worked to push the thought of her brother—and what he had done—away. She wanted to enjoy her baby tonight, and the feeling of being clean and unafraid, warm and secure. A flickering thought of Olivier came to her and she chased it away, too. He was being dealt with and whatever she had thought about him—and how wrong she had been about him—was history now. Except for the conversation she still needed to have with Annie about him. But there was time enough for all that.
Tonight was for her and for Jemmy.
“You know,” Maggie said, “it occurs to me that just because I don’t enjoy endless hours of watching Sponge Head Square Pox with little people who can’t yet tie their shoes, it doesn’t mean I don’t adore these little creatures.”
Haley sat down on the couch. “We’re all different, Maggie. Some of us are cut out to teach pre-K and some of us definitely not.” She leaned over Zouzou’s shoulder and pointed to a card in the child’s hand. “Ask Aunt Maggie if she has any of those. Do you know what that is?”
Zouzou frowned and looked up at Haley, looking for the answer.
“Come on, Zouzou,” Haley said. “You know it.”
“Um…a two?”
“Yes! Well done! Yes, it’s a two.”
Zouzou beamed at Haley while Maggie cheered and made Jemmy’s little fist pump. “Good job, Zouzou,” she said. “Mummy will be so impressed when she gets home. Speaking of which…” She looked at Haley. “Where exactly did Grace go today? And shouldn’t she be back by now? It’s after six.”
“I’m pretty sure she’s not coming home tonight,” Haley said.
Maggie looked at her in surprise. “Why not? Where is she?” Maggie had tried calling Grace a couple of times but the calls went straight to voicemail.
“She’ll be back in the morning.”
“Where is she?”
Haley sighed and lifted a curl off Zouzou’s forehead. “Honestly, I’m not sure I’m at liberty to say. She told me in confidence.”
“Are you kidding me? Grace is my best friend.”
“Well, if that’s so, wouldn’t you know where she is tonight? I’m sorry, Maggie. I hope that didn’t come out too harsh.”
Maggie stared at her. Haley looked apologetically at her over Zouzou’s blonde head.
Was Grace mad at her? Had something happened? All of a sudden, Maggie remembered a phone conversation—or two—where Grace said she needed to talk to Maggie about something. Maggie also remembered the evening she’d deliberately sent an incoming call from Grace to voicemail because she’d been too tired to talk.
She cleared her throat. “She asked you not to tell me?”
“Not in so many words, no,” Haley said. “But she didn’t say I could and it’s definitely a secret. Come on, Zouzou, let’s wash our hands for supper, okay? Aunt Haley made cornbread just for you.”
Jemmy’s eyes began to close long before his supper was finished and Maggie watched Haley pick him up and detach him from his bib. “This little guy’s done for the day,” Haley said. “Aren’t you, angel?”
Maggie felt a stab of envy that Haley was able to handle her son so easily. She felt like ripping off her sling and grabbing him from her but the steady throb in her wrist reminded her not to.
“You look pretty beat, too, Maggie,” Haley said. “Let me give the little ones their baths. Why don’t you go on to bed?”
“I’ll wait for
Laurent,” Maggie said.
Haley hesitated and gave her a strange look. “He may be awhile.”
Does that mean Ben told her the truth after all? Impossible. She doesn’t act upset. But why does she think Laurent will be late?
“In any case,” Haley said, standing at the foot of the stairs with the children, “at least lie down on the couch. You look dead on your feet.”
Maggie had to admit she was exhausted. As much as she wanted to put Jemmy to bed, she reminded herself that she had several years of bedtimes ahead of her to do that. The short nap she’d taken before Laurent and Ben came in from Aix had done little to touch the bone-deep exhaustion and mental anguish of her night at the abbey. For at least this one night, she probably needed to take care of herself.
“I think I will, Haley,” she said, walking to the stairs and kissing Jem on the cheek. “I owe you forever for all the help you’ve been.”
A thought came to Maggie that Haley was going to be all on her own soon, although of course the family would help her as much as they could. Ben would surely go to prison. Perhaps that would be the best thing for Haley—to start over without someone abusing her on a daily basis.
Maggie went to the couch, turned off the lamp and pulled the afghan over her, the sounds of Jem’s cooing and Zouzou’s singsong voice drifting in and out of her consciousness.
Maggie had never slept more deeply. Her dreams were fretful and dark, and when she awoke she didn’t feel refreshed. She felt on guard. She pushed herself up to a sitting position on the couch, moaning because she’d been sleeping on her wrist. She heard Haley in the kitchen, humming and moving pans on and off the stove.
Maggie’s mouth was dry. The ER physician had told her to drink plenty of water, but somehow in all the excitement of the homecoming and talking to Ben…
Ben. A feeling of unease settled on her shoulders. She rubbed her face with her good hand. What will her poor parents say? This was going to absolutely kill them.
“You awake, Maggie?” Haley called from the kitchen. “I heated up the beef dish Laurent made. Why don’t you guys have a microwave? How can you live without it?”
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