see how we ran things down here.”
I immediately started calling around the farm for a babysitter and got lucky on my first try. My brother Zach’s daughter Emma agreed to come over, and her brother Lee said he wasn’t doing anything either, so if there was going to be free pizza…
In the end, it cost us two large pizzas, because Emma called back within the hour to say Seth’s daughter Jess and Andrew’s Ruth wanted to come, too. Wherever two or three of the kids are gathered, more of my nieces and nephews are sure to turn up. Evidently the tribal grapevine was working just fine, because I was able to tell Cal, “They said they’d be happy to stay with their new cousin.”
We were the first to get to Rob and Kate’s and she was apologetic. “Sorry, Dwight, but Martin Crawford begged off and I didn’t know how much you wanted me to push it.”
“That’s okay,” he told her.
Sigrid and Anne blew in about two minutes later, red-cheeked and hair tousled by the wind. We shed our heavy coats and soon sat down to an informal supper of Rob’s hearty beef stew with a few bottles of Dwight’s homemade ale, perfect for a cold winter’s night.
“I don’t normally like beer, but this is quite good,” Sigrid said, wiping the foam from her upper lip. She was as relaxed as we’d yet seen her, but the death watch was starting to wear on both of them.
“Grandmother doesn’t seem to be in too much pain. The doctor’s put her on an intravenous pump with a mixture of something that makes her sleep a lot.”
“My sisters are flying in the end of the week,” said Anne, who was further worried that something she had said or done might have led to the attack on Jeremy Harper. “I spoke to Mrs. Harper this afternoon. She says he tried to squeeze her hand and that his eyelids fluttered a little. I don’t know if it’s wishful thinking or he really is starting to come around.”
“Where’s your investigation going?” Sigrid asked with professional interest. “Any leads?”
“Not really,” Dwight said. “We found his Toyota over by the NutriGood store on Saturday morning. “Unfortunately, no one seems to know when it was parked there.”
“Could he have gone straight there after leaving us on Thursday, or do you think somebody else drove it there later?” Anne asked.
“No telling, but we’ve asked the media to run our hotline number in case anyone noticed. The steering wheel wasn’t wiped and it’s covered with his fingerprints.”
Anne sprinkled pepper on her stew and described some of the adventures she’d had over the years, adventures she’d told the Harper boy about. “I wanted to give him a sense of the opportunities out there if he was persistent and determined. Now I’m wondering if I gave him an unrealistic view of how willing some people are to answer awkward questions.”
Sigrid took another swallow of beer. “I know Martin found him near where that real estate woman was dumped, but is there any real connection?”
“Not that we’ve found, and believe me, we’ve looked.”
“What about your cousin?” I asked.
Anne made a rueful face. “I’m afraid he was no help at all. He showed us some pictures and talked about tracking vultures, and Jeremy found it about as exciting as watching paint dry. To be fair, though, he’s on a tight deadline and his editor’s bugging him to finish the article.”
She broke off a piece of her crusty whole wheat roll and buttered it. “He wants to get it finished before he flies back to England.”
“He’s leaving?” Sigrid asked, looking a little surprised.
“If you don’t mind my asking,” Dwight said, including Sigrid in his question, “how much do y’all know about him?”
“What do you mean?” Anne asked.
“Well, the other night, you said you hadn’t seen him since y’all were kids, and it was almost like Sigrid never even knew he existed. You sure he’s who he says he is?”
Anne frowned. “Well of course, he is,” she said. “Who else would he be?”
“Just askin’,” Dwight drawled.
“I may not have been in touch with him, but Mother certainly was. Not with Martin himself, perhaps, but she and his stepmother exchange Christmas cards and pictures every year. Of course it’s Martin.”
Sigrid had been watching Dwight’s face, and now she leaned forward to say, “Something about him bothers you, Dwight?”
He nodded, then looked around the table. “What I say stays here, okay? A man died out at the Clarenden Motel Thursday