But that was then. They were equals now, whether Lena thought so or not.
None of those affirmations stopped the flutter of fear in her heart as Lena stood over her, a trembling finger pointed in Sasha's face.
"Listen to me, you selfish little brat. If you want your piece of this place, the four of us are stuck here for the foreseeable future. Now, that might not affect your shifts at the diner one town over, or put a wrench in your plans to screw your way through the rest of the parish before you give up the ghost, but it’s not so convenient for everyone else. I'm using three of the final four months of my sabbatical, that was meant to be spent on indigenous women's studies, stuck here in La Pierre instead, and I'm livid about it. So sit down, shut your trap, and let the grownups talk."
The words hit like razor blades, each one a new cut, and Sasha had to take a second to absorb them all.
"Lena...seriously, that's not helping," Kate murmured, wincing.
Desperate for a release, Sasha turned her impotent fury on Kate, who was a much easier target. "You know what, Holly Hobby? I don't need you to defend me all the time. I can handle myself. Besides, what can she do to me? I'm too old to whoop, and even if I wasn't, Pacific Northwest Lena is far too refined and citified to do it. Anyway, she’d probably throw out her back or break a h-"
It was the slap heard around the world. Or, at least, when Lena's hand connected with Sasha's cheek, it sure felt that way.
"You're never too old to whoop, little miss," Lena shot back, eyes glittering. “Remember that.”
Part of Sasha, albeit one that was real, real deep down at the moment, was kind of impressed. Maybe old Lena wasn’t as dead inside as she seemed.
But the part that had spent a lifetime wishing for her big sister’s approval? Was gutted. Shame and regret and anger swirled together, making an oily soup in her belly.
She wanted to lash out, maybe even slap her back, but she couldn’t seem to get her hand to work. What would it prove, anyway? Nothing was going to change the fact that the one person on this entire earth who had truly understood her…who really saw her, was dead.
The anger drained away in a rush as her throat went tight and achy, and her eyes filled with tears.
"Sash, I'm sorry," Lena said, stepping closer, hand extended. "I was totally out of line..."
She couldn't get the words out, but if she could have, she'd have told Lena that none of that was important. Not the argument. Not the slap. Not the rock through the window, or the note.
The only thing that mattered was that their mama was gone.
And this time, unlike so many others, she wasn't coming back…
Maggie
It didn't happen every time the four of them were together, but it happened most times. The moment where Maggie was reminded that she was different. Not a bad different—at least, not all the time—but different just the same.
Lena would never have slapped her like that. Not when she was little, and certainly not now. Then again, she'd only gotten to live with her for a couple years before Lena had left La Pierre for good. Even after Maggie's birth mother passed away and she’d moved into the house with them, Lena had treated Maggie like a beloved little cousin. She'd carry her around on her hip while she cooked them pancake breakfasts and absently ruffle her hair when she passed by. Not at all the way she treated Kate, who seemed more like a trusted friend, or Sasha, who Lena did her best to rein in like a wild horse in need of breaking.
Maggie had loved her relationship with Lena when she was a child. As she grew older, though, it only served as a reminder that, while Lena viewed her as an honored member of the family, she would never be her sister.
Some days, it bothered her. Not today, though. Today, she was happy for the buffer it offered.
"I sent a message to the Sheriff's Office."
Lena was still staring at the empty space where Sasha had been before rushing out of the room in tears, and she turned toward Maggie, blinking in confusion.
"What?"
Maggie swallowed hard and forced the words out a second time. "When you were all arguing. They have a tip line that accepts text messages. I sent one to them. Someone will be here any minute.”
Lena squeezed her eyes closed and barked out a laugh. “Oh, for crying out--”
“I’m sorry, but if we don’t do anything about it, we’ll be targets for the next three months.”
Kate and Lena shared a loaded look, and Lena turned away with a sigh.
"Thanks a lot, Maggie. Now the whole town is going to know about it by morning. I was just thinking to myself, 'Well, at least it can't get worse’, and you’ve proven me wrong."
"All right, there’s nothing to do about it now. What's done is done," Kate said, ever the peacemaker. Maggie could tell she was as upset as Lena. She was just better at pretending.
“It’s nothing they haven’t said before, anyway. We don’t want people thinking they can come and do that type of stuff just because Mama isn’t alive to stop them, or it will never end,” Maggie said, more firmly this time. There was no doubt Maeve herself had been a big deterrent, even in her later years. She had a lot of questionable connections from her riverboat casino and whiskey running days. Plus, her hands may have been twisted with arthritis, but she could still pull the trigger on Old Betty and pepper someone’s keister with buckshot if the need arose, and wouldn’t have hesitated a lick to do it.
The thought had a smile tugging at her lips and her chest going tight with emotion.
She couldn’t get derailed thinking about their mother’s death right now. She had to focus on her legacy, and part of that was making sure people didn’t get away with running around calling Maeve Blanchard a murderer. She was a lot of things, but never that.
“Besides, we might as well all ingratiate ourselves with the Sheriff, now that we’ll be here awhile. You know what Mama always said…”
“‘Keep your friends close, and local law enforcement closer’,” Sasha finished for her as she stepped into the living room again before shooting a shamefaced glance toward Lena. “I think I still just can’t quite believe she’s gone…it’s hitting me hard.”
That was as close to an apology as Maggie had ever heard come from Sasha, and apparently Lena agreed, because she nodded.
“I know.”
Good enough.
“Maeve’s got a lot of stuff here to get through. Boxes from as far back as the sixties full of business documents and paperwork. We’ve got to remember that some of it wasn’t even close to legal. We just don’t want to invite the cops in more than we have to, is all. All right?” Kate said, leveling Maggie with a long look.
She nodded and was about to answer when a knock sounded at the door.
“Let’s get this over with,” she said, running a hand through her dark hair as she went to answer it.
Low voices murmured in the foyer and, a moment later, Kate returned, leading a man in his late thirties with freckles and ginger hair along with her. His large, gray hat was in his hand and he was dressed in a snappy police uniform, a gleaming star on his chest that read Deputy Rutledge.
He gave each of them a nod in turn. “Maggie, Miss Lena…Sasha,” he said, cheeks going ruddy as he met Sasha’s gaze.
“Rusty,” Sasha said with a crooked half-smile. “How’s your mama an’ them?”
“Everybody’s fine, thanks,” he returned, looking anywhere but at Sasha now. “I was so sorry to learn about Maeve. She’ll be missed.” They each murmured their thanks before he continued. “I hear there was some trouble tonight?”
Maggie stood and gestured to the destroyed table. “Someone threw a rock through the window with this note attached.” She held it up for inspection.
Someone’s gotta pay, one way or another. MURDERER.
He hitched a hand on his hip and nodded slowly as he took it from her hand. “How long ago?”
“Right before Maggie messaged the department,” Lena replied. “Not sure what time.”
“We’ll have that on file, for sure. I was at a domestic call over on Dupont Road, so I beat Sheriff Fletcher here, but he isn’t far behind. When he gets here, he’ll ask y’all some questions while I’ll take a look around outside and see what I see.”
Like he’d conjured him with words, a second knock sounded on the door and, a moment later, it opened.
“It’s Joe, can I come in?”
“Come on,” Kate called, turning toward the foyer with a wave. “Hey, Joe.”
The Sheriff stepped in the room, hat in hand. “Kate, Maggie, Sasha…” His lean face remained impassive, dark gray eyes unreadable as he looked over and locked gazes with Lena. “Good to see you, Lena. Been a long time.”
“You too, Joe.”
Maggie flicked a glance between the Sheriff and her oldest sister. She hadn’t been surprised to see the interplay between Rusty and Sasha. Lena had been harsh when she’d accused Sasha of sleeping her way through La Pierre and the surrounding towns, but she hadn’t been exactly wrong. Plus, Rusty was handsome in an “aw shucks” kind of way, and fit squarely into Sasha’s thirty-to-sixty acceptable age bracket. It stood to reason she’d treated the boy to a tumble at one point or another. If she knew her sister, it only had to happen once and he’d be blushing like that when he saw her for the rest of their lives. It was the electric current between Sheriff Joe and Lena that was doing Maggie’s head in…
Had prim and proper schoolmarm Lena taken the rugged Sheriff for a spin on one of her rare visits to La Pierre, at some point? The thought of Lena living a little actually lifted her spirits some. She made a mental note to ask Sasha about it later.
“I was real sorry to hear about your mama,” he said, his smooth baritone low and soothing.
Sasha sidled up and slipped her arms around the Sheriff’s waist, tucking her head into his broad shoulder.
“It’s been tough, Sheriff, but we’re getting through,” she said with a sigh. He gave her an awkward pat and then took a step back.
“Glad to hear it. Now what’s this about a vandal and a threat?”
Kate and Lena took the reins and walked both lawmen through the order of events. Rusty furiously took notes on a little white notepad as the Sheriff listened carefully.
“So nothing strange before that. No noise from outside, anything like that?” he asked when they’d finished.
“No. We were…talking and then the rock came crashing through the window,” Kate said with a shrug.
“Do you remember hearing a car starting, tires squealing, or seeing headlights afterward?”
Lena and Kate looked at each other, then toward Maggie and Sasha.
“Not that I recall,” Lena said.
“We were all pretty startled, but I think I would’ve noticed,” Kate added, frowning. “The porch lights were off, and the headlights would’ve been noticeable through the picture window, unless they kept them off.”
“I didn’t hear a car,” Maggie piped in, thinking back to that moment. “I’d have remembered because the sound of all the critters got a lot louder once the window was shattered. Like someone turned up the volume outside. That’s what my brain was focused on in the moment, for some reason.”
The Sheriff glanced at the window. Kate had covered it with plastic wrap and tape shortly after it had happened, but the sound from outside was still amplified.
“I agree. I’m guessing they were on foot,” Sasha said.
“Which means it was someone who lives close, or they had a car parked nearby,” the Sheriff murmured, turning his attention toward Sasha. “Anyone you can think of that might be behind this? I know it’s not the first time Maeve has dealt with something like this, but it’s been a long time. And I don’t recall a threat in the past.”
Sasha lived just fifteen minutes away and had spent the most time with Maeve in the past few years, so it made sense to ask her specifically, but Maggie couldn’t deflect the stab of guilt.
She lived just an hour away and had only managed to make it to visit a few times a year. As a freelance marketing specialist who made her own hours, she could’ve done better.
She should’ve done better.
“No one, specifically,” Sasha said after thinking for a long moment. “Of course, Mama pissed off a few of the ladies in town, as you know. Their husbands were always sniffing around her back in the day and they’re jealous old biddies holding a grudge. And she’s mouthed off to more politicians and the like than probably anyone in La Pierre. But I don’t think any of them would stoop to this level. Especially not now. She’s an institution in this town.”
“If we’re all assuming what we’re assuming, that whoever did this was referring to Clyde’s death, then maybe one of his family members is trying to kick up some dust,” Maggie said with a shrug. “Seems like a strange thing to bring up thirty-odd years later, but who can say?”
“Good enough,” he said, tipping his chin at Rusty. “I’m sure whoever did this is long gone, but I’m going to take a look around outside. Why don’t you bag and tag the stone and the note, then head out to the barn and get some plywood to cover the window nice and tight until they can get someone out here to replace it. Come morning, first thing, give a call to the Jensens next door and ask if they saw or heard anything around the time of the incident.”
Their neighbors were fifty acres or more away, so it was unlikely, but Rusty inclined his head and tugged his flashlight from his belt as he headed off to do the Sheriff’s bidding.
“Don’t hesitate to call if you think of anything else at all or have any more trouble, all right?” the Sheriff asked, tugging a business card out of his pocket and extending it in the general direction of where Lena and Kate were standing.
It was Sasha who plucked it from his fingers with a nod, though. “Thanks, Sheriff. We feel much safer already, knowing you’re on the case.”
He lifted a hand and made his way back to the foyer. “I’ll be in touch.”
“I wish,” Sasha murmured under her breath as she watched him go. The second he was out of sight, she fanned herself with the card like she was having a fit of the vapors. “That man is just a tall drink of water, and every time I see him, I feel thirsty.”
“Yeah, well, we don’t need him poking around here for any reason at all, so find yourself a water fountain and cool off a little,” Lena said, dropping into an armchair with a sigh. This time, her words were lighter than before, and Sasha let them roll off with a wink.
It was only when the lawmen had gone an hour later that the last of the adrenaline drained away and Maggie realized how exhausted she was. By the time she trudged upstairs, she was dead on her feet, sure she’d sleep like a log.
Instead, she dreamed of bloody notes and broken glass and murder.
Maeve
January 7th, 1965
* * *
My Dearest Maeve,
* * *
I'm writing to let you know that I’m through with my training and I'm set to be sent over to Vietnam, though they haven’t yet told me where, exactly. I’ll do my best to call before I go. It’s been a tough few months without you and I have taken to looking at my picture of you every night before sleeping. It gives me strength to keep going. I am eager to return home and I wish I didn’t enlist for such a long term. Four years seems like an eternity that would’ve been better spent with you.
We’ve been told that there will be no leave during our tour of duty, so it will still be longer than a year until we can see each other again. Knowing that, I have taken to counting the days ‘til I get to see your pretty face in person.
Tell me about what you’ve been up to and how things are going back home? I was so sorry to hear about Annalise’s condition taking a turn for the worse. Could you check in on them for me and make sure Harry is really doing all right? He never was one to complain. If they seem in a bad way, try to give him some of the money without making too much of a fuss about it. He likely won’t take it but it’s worth a try. I’ve been sending as much a
s I can and I hope it’s enough so you can quit that job at the market, even if we need to give some to the Seplaskys. I would hate for you to have to work your pretty little fingers to the bone.
Please know that I am thinking of you always, my love. Keep enjoying life and don’t worry too much about me. I’ll take care of myself just fine and it’ll still likely be months before I see any combat.
* * *
All my love,
Ollie
* * *
January 21st, 1965
* * *
Maeve, my love,
* * *
I wrote as soon as I got your letter but there will likely be some delay because I am overseas now. I was excited to hear that you quit your job at the market. I’m happy you found a use for those peach trees in the backyard but make sure you’re careful, I couldn’t bear for my lovely wife to be stuck in prison over money that we won’t need as soon as I’m home.
Keep checking in on Harry and Annalise, and try to make it a regular thing to give him a bit of cash when he’ll take it. I’m glad to hear that you’ve been bringing food for him and Annalise. I know she appreciates it even if she can’t do much in the way of expressing it right now. It puts me at ease to know that you’re all there taking care of each other while I’m away.
That box of photos you sent me with the letter has done more than you know for my morale. Though it’s no substitute for your touch, they make me remember what I’m doing all this for. With your next care package, I’d love for you to send me a few of those toffees that Old Russell makes, I’ve had a hankering for one. I set aside a little extra money for you this month so you could buy yourself the next pretty dress you see in the window of Bonnie’s shop. When you do, I’d love to see a picture of you wearing it.
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