In frustration, she raked the light from one side of the two trees to the other.
“Goddammit!” she said. “I don’t see anything!”
Laurent strode past Maggie to the larger of the two trees. The trunk forked in a deformed display of branch and leaves. Maggie watched Zouzou turn to Laurent and talk but she couldn’t hear her words. And then she saw Zouzou point to the saddle of the forked trunk.
Maggie ran.
She pushed past Laurent and ran to the crux of where the two trunks split at chest height and saw a cardboard wine cask. It was dark and hidden by the leaves and the night. Dropping the flashlight, she grabbed the box and lifted it away from the tree, hearing water slosh around inside as the sodden sides began to collapse in her hands.
Inside, his face just inches above the water collected in the bottom, Jemmy opened his eyes and blinked as the rain hit him in the face. He opened his mouth wide and began to cry.
Epilogue
The crunch of the gravel beneath her shoes always felt so satisfying, Maggie thought as she walked to the car parked in the driveway. She shifted Jemmy to her other hip and opened the car door. Grace followed her. She wore a long, flowing dressing gown—like something from the forties, Maggie thought, with her hair piled loosely on the top of her head and naturally still gorgeous with not a speck of makeup on. Grace held a coffee cup to her lips and watched Maggie tuck the baby into his car seat.
“I still cannot believe I missed all the excitement,” Grace said. “Zouzou can’t stop talking about it.”
“I’m just glad she’s not damaged for life,” Maggie said, stopping to kiss Jemmy on the nose.
Grace walked to the passenger side and slipped inside, setting her coffee on the dashboard. Maggie put her seatbelt on and looked at her expectedly.
“It’s just that we didn’t really get a chance to talk,” Grace said, not looking at her.
“Grace, it’s okay. I’m not pissed. If anything, I owe you an apology.”
“She totally had me fooled.”
“She had us all fooled.”
“It’s because she was so damn helpful all the time.”
“I know. I hate it when people do that.”
“No, seriously. You know kids can be relentless and they want every single piece of you all the time. It was just so nice to…to hand Zouzou off for just a little break.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t mean every person who offers to relieve you is a sociopath,” Maggie said dryly.
“Good thing, since I obviously can’t tell the difference.” Grace sipped her coffee before speaking again. “So it turns out all the people on the tour were just your basic not-very-nice but non-murderous people?”
“Pretty much,” Maggie said. “I mean Olivier is a total nutjob. He loved Lanie and blamed me and Dee-Dee and Randall for what happened to her.”
“Why did he blame you?”
“Well, she told him I betrayed her in high school.”
“Goodness. How?”
“I have no idea and I probably never will. But she got it in her head that I’d let her down and she carried it with her. Olivier seemed to think he was honoring her in death or something by trying to hurt me.”
“And Dee-Dee?”
Maggie shrugged. “He just knew Lanie hated her and so he added her to his list.”
“But he was sleeping with Desiree?”
“Apparently. He was in on the raging bull attack with Desiree. But I’m sure he would’ve gotten around to taking care of Desiree eventually, too.”
“Has he been released?”
“No. He was cleared of the murder charge, but he’s still on the hook for what he tried to do to me.”
“I still can’t believe you spent six hours in a medieval dungeon, darling. I miss all the fun.”
“Yeah, trust me, you do,” Maggie said dryly.
Maggie watched the leaves scuttle across the gravel driveway and wondered if it was a precursor to the famed mistral heading their way.
“What will happen to Haley now?” Grace asked quietly.
“I guess she’ll push for an insanity plea,” Maggie said. “Take it from me, there’s nobody more qualified for it.”
“You want her punished.”
“I honestly try not to feel that way. She caused so much pain, but I know she’s sick.”
“By the way, Laurent told me the good news.”
“Oh! Grace, I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s amazing and I’m delighted. You and Laurent are the best parents I know. There should be more kids on the receiving end of all that.”
Maggie shook her head. “I don’t feel very good about the kind of mother I was. But I know I adore Jemmy beyond reason.”
“Well, that’s a good start,” Grace said, patting her hand. “Unless, of course, you start shoving people down stairs as a result of it.”
“Who’s the guy, by the way?”
“Oh. My weekend in Aix? Turned out to be nothing,” Grace said, picking up her cup and opening her car door. “Will you be home for dinner?”
“Are you going to tell me about it?”
“Of course. By and by. I’m sorry we misconnected, Maggie. You know nobody can take your place, don’t you?”
Maggie smiled. “I do. But it’s nice to hear.”
On a day like today—sunny and bright but with a special spice in the air—Maggie could feel the coming autumn in her bones. In her mind, as desirable as summer was to the tourists and anybody else who liked a warm clime, blue seas and ever-present ice cream cones, surely it was the autumn in Provence that was the most beautiful.
She glanced in the rearview mirror at Jemmy. He seemed to be watching the scenery, his little face frowning as if attempting to process the images as they spun by.
Dear God, will I ever stop cherishing the fact that I still have him? She drove down the main road that led to the village but that also bordered the far reaches of their vineyard. The pickers, if they had vehicles, would park along the road and along the verge of their property. As she approached, she saw a scattering of tents erected along the perimeter of their property.
It felt nice to know what was going on with the vineyard. Always before, she knew they were harvesting because strange people would show up at her door asking for water. Now, Laurent sat down with her and explained why he was doing what he was doing. And although he hadn’t gone so far as to ask her for an opinion—nor would she have an intelligent one to give on harvesting techniques—it was still nice to be included. In fact, even though she had already felt the pinch of the purse strings tightening in just the two weeks since he’d told her about the co-op situation, amazingly, the air of communication and sharing between them had more than made up for it.
If we’re going to be poor, at least we’ll be poor together, she thought as she pulled up onto the verge.
“Dada?” Jemmy said from the backseat. A quick glance at him showed the baby pointing out the window. When she followed his gaze, she saw Laurent, taller than all the other men in the field, walking toward them, his stride purposeful, his face serious and bronzed from the sun.
“Yep, that’s your daddy,” Maggie said, rolling down the passenger side window and waving to Laurent as he approached the car.
“You are on your way to Arles?” he asked, reaching into the car to give Jemmy’s foot a squeeze.
“I am. You forgot your lunch.” She pointed to the box on the seat next to her.
“Ah, bon,” he said, reaching in and plucking it out of the car.
“Things going okay? Good pickers this year?”
He shrugged. “As long as I watch them,” he said, turning to regard the field. She knew he loved harvest time, loved the sun, the hard outdoor work, the baskets and baskets of grapes every evening loaded on the flatbed back of the tractor. He turned to her. “You have not forgotten about tonight, chérie?”
His investor, Adele, along with some of the other vintners in their ne
w business, was coming over for dinner and drinks. Maggie was delighted that Laurent had set up a mini-degustation at their house instead of meeting with his new associates in the village café as they so easily might have done.
“I’ll be back in plenty of time,” she assured him. “Don’t lose track of time, yourself,” she said. “Will Jean-Luc and Danielle come?” She hadn’t seen their elderly neighbors in several weeks and was anxious to catch up with Danielle.
“Bien sûr,” he said, clapping a hand on the car as if to release her. “Drive safe, chérie. Tell your brother hello.” She watched him smile a wry smile and felt a flood of affection in his direction.
Dear God, will I ever stop cherishing the fact that I still have him?
It would take nearly an hour to reach Arles. She selected a playlist of French songs on Jemmy’s music player and turned the volume down so he could hear but she could talk on the phone.
“Ready, champ?” she said to him, glancing again in the rearview mirror. “Off on an adventure with Mommy?”
Jemmy grinned and stuck a pacifier in his mouth as the first few notes of the songs began to play.
Maggie turned her attention back to the road and punched in Annie’s phone number. She’d texted her earlier in the day to expect her call, so she wasn’t surprised when Annie picked up on the second ring.
“Hello, darling!” Annie said. “I was waiting for your call.”
“You sound good,” Maggie said with surprise. Although she’d already spoken to Annie several times about the turn of events in the murder case—and especially the news about Olivier and his involvement—she was amazed to hear the energy and interest in the older woman’s voice.
“I am much better every day that goes by,” Annie said. “Do you have an update for me?”
“Well, I heard that Bob Randall is closing down production on his television series,” Maggie said. “I forget the actual wording he used in the public relations release, but it doesn’t matter since I’m sure it probably wasn’t the truth anyway.”
“Oh, my.”
“I also heard that Desiree assaulted a waitress in Cannes over something and is facing deportation.”
“Deportation?”
“Yeah, it seems the quintessential Frenchwoman isn’t French at all. She’s Swiss.”
“Goodness.”
“I don’t have any information on Janet and Jim, and you’re up to speed on my crazy sister-in-law. Or at least as up to speed as I am.”
“And Olivier?”
Maggie took in a long breath and glanced at Jem in the backseat. She watched his eyes slowly close as he fought sleep.
“I guess you could say he loved Lanie to a fault,” Maggie said.
“I still feel sorry for the boy,” Annie said quietly.
Maggie cleared her throat. “Annie, I need to say something to you and I hope you can hear me and that you won’t take it wrong but I really need to say it.”
“What in the world, dear?”
“I…I hope you can give some thought to the idea of forgiving yourself for whatever you think you did or didn’t do to Lanie.”
Maggie heard a quick inhalation of breath, but Annie didn’t respond.
“There were some things wrong with Lanie,” Maggie said, “and I mean some really serious things wrong with her, but I don’t think those things were your fault.”
Maggie let the silence rest between them until she heard a sigh emit from Annie’s end.
“Thank you, dear,” she said quietly, her voice over the line coming to Maggie wavering but strong.
*****
An hour later, Maggie sat on one of the curving benches in the park tucked into the Boulevard des Lices in Arles. Gigantic cedars fanned out overhead, shading her and Jemmy from the worst of the late summer sun. She chose this park because it seemed less hectic than most of the children’s playgrounds she and Grace visited in Aix and Arles.
Jem reached for the can of orange soda on the bench next to them and she positioned the straw for him.
So much for Mother of the Year.
“Thanks for coming.”
He must have walked up from behind because she didn’t see him until he spoke, right before he slid onto the bench next her.
“Sure,” she said, scooting over to give him more room than he needed. She hadn’t seen her brother since the night the ambulance had taken him and Haley to Aix. She’d spoken with him on the phone a few times but, amazingly, Laurent had talked to him more than she had. This meeting was also Laurent’s idea, although Maggie wasn’t sure whether or not Ben had put him up to it.
It didn’t really sound like something her brother would do.
“When will they move Haley back to Atlanta?” Maggie couldn’t bring herself to ask how Haley was doing. She reminded herself to feel bad about that later.
“Not sure. As soon as she’s stable.”
“They expect her to recover?”
Ben looked at Maggie, trying to determine her motive behind the question. Finally, he said, “Probably won’t walk again. And there might be some…brain damage.”
“I see. Enough to keep her from standing trial.”
“You do know she’s mentally ill, right? I’m not trying to make excuses for her.”
“She killed someone. She tried to kill me.”
“I know. Who would know better than me?”
He looked like hell, Maggie thought. He had shaved and his clothes were clean but he clearly hadn’t spent any more attention than that on his appearance. Probably hadn’t slept. He looked like he’d aged ten years.
“You really didn’t know Haley killed Lanie?” she asked him.
“I swear I didn’t. Not until the night before…she tried to hurt you.”
Jem squealed at the sight of a squirrel and pointed excitedly. Maggie bounced him on her knee to distract him.
“We had a fight that morning when you and Laurent were gone and it came out,” Ben said. “I was totally freaked. I had no idea she was that…that…. Anyway, then when you came home and accused me of it, I thought…I don’t know.”
“You thought this was your chance to be a hero.”
“Thank you for making it sound so lame. I figured I was heading to prison anyway and this was what I should do. What Dad would do. Step in and fix it.”
“How did it go down with Haley and Lanie? It’ll be years before I get the facts from the police.”
Ben sighed heavily and rubbed his face with a large hand. “It was stupid. And all my fault.”
“I’m listening.”
“You already know I hooked up with Lanie in the girls’ bathroom at the school reunion.”
“Really charming, by the way.”
“I haven’t been punished enough?”
“Do you think you have? Are you feeling sorry for yourself?”
“Never mind.”
“Continue. And Haley found out?”
“No, I confessed. Told you it was stupid. But she forgave me. Or seemed to. And I had so much on my plate with this damn Ordeur mess—”
“What with needing to come over here and extort Laurent’s livelihood out of him.”
“I can only tell one story at a time, Maggie. Which one do you want to hear?”
“The murder.”
He grimaced at her bald statement, but before he could respond Jem reached out and grabbed at Ben’s shirt and laughed. Maggie was surprised and began to pull him away when Ben held out his hands.
“May I?” he asked.
“Are you serious?” But she handed the baby to him and watched her brother as he tucked Jem into the crook of his arm and smoothed down the baby’s hair.
“You know how many times I looked at this little guy and thought of what might have been?”
“You mean with Lanie’s baby?”
Ben nodded miserably. “I had no idea she would be on the tour. That was a serious shock, but worse was the text message I got from her as soon as I arrived telling me she was preg
nant and wanted money.”
“I’ll bet.”
Ben turned to glance at her. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I didn’t think it was the worse thing that could happen. I really didn’t.”
“Getting a one-night-stand pregnant when you’re married?”
He shrugged. “Alright. It was bad.”
“Another confession to Haley?”
He shook his head. “No. I was pretty sure she couldn’t handle it. We’d been trying so hard to get pregnant. But she stumbled onto the text that Lanie sent me.” He grimaced. “Thank you, Cloud.”
“Oh, snap.”
“I guess when she saw that I was still in contact with Lanie—and worse, that she was pregnant—she just cracked.”
“How did she get in Lanie’s room?”
“Lanie had given me a key. Haley found it, used it, then slipped it under Olivier’s door when she…when she was finished. He must have found it and put it in his wallet thinking Lanie had slipped it under the door.”
“That’s the main reason Olivier was arrested,” Maggie said. “The cops pinpointed it was that keycard used at the time of the murder.”
“I know.”
“And by slipping it under his door it shows Haley deliberately tried to pin it on Olivier.”
“She’s sick, Maggie.”
“And Lanie’s dead.”
“I’m not saying it’s fair. It’s a damn mess is what it is.”
“Okay, now you can tell me about Laurent.”
“He hasn’t told you?”
“I want to hear it from you.”
“Ordeur hired me because they knew I was in trouble. They helped me dig in a little deeper, not that I’m trying to dodge the blame. I did it to myself. But then they offered me a way out: go to France and convince Laurent Dernier—by any means necessary—to fall in step with the rest of the vintners in the co-op they’d just purchased.”
“And they knew they could ask you because they’d specifically recruited someone who knew Laurent’s family.”
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