Eleanor Whipple gave Patricia's shoulder a reassuring little pat. So demonstrative.
“We'll all be there, Patricia, and you only have to ask if you need anything." -
“Thank you, Cousin Eleanor. I know that. One realizes how much one depends on friends and family at these times.”
They sewed for a while in companionable silence. There was a sense that Patricia hadn 't quite finished and it was correct.
She blushed a little, looked around the group, and said, "When the funeral home asked for a dress, I sent over her wedding dress.”
Did Faith imagine that an eyebrow or two went up 9 Maybe she wasn't the only one who thought it a bit odd.
“It was because the morning we bought it was one of the last times I remember having a happy day with Cindy.”
Or one of the only times, was the thought in not a few heads.
Patricia spoke wistfully. "She was so excited and the dress was perfect, white velvet with tiny seed pearls. She looked like a Renaissance princess. The saleswomen were all oohing and aahing over her. Afterward we had lunch at the Copley to celebrate. I began to think marriage might change things.”
The women listened as they stitched away. Over the years they had quietly heard so many revelations—breast cancer now thankfully in remission for one of them ; problems with children ; once even the possibility of an unfaithful spouse ; though as a rule husbands, where they existed, were seldom mentioned. They seemed oddly out of place at an Alliance meeting. As if one of them had suddenly taken it into his head to join them and crochet.
Patricia sighed. "But of course it didn 't. She was just the same at dinner that evening, making sly digs at Robert and leaving in the middle of the meal.”
And probably without being excused, thought Faith, a sin in her own family not unrelated to ax murder, certainly considered in as bad taste.
“She seemed especially on edge lately," said Patricia, “ I keep wondering if something was wrong that we didn't know about.”
There wasn't much to say to that, or rather there was a lot to say that no one quite had the heart to bring up.
The group adjourned at five o'clock as usual and rushed off to the Shop and Save to pick up something for supper. Faith's beef carbonnade was all made, waiting to be reheated with some of her fresh egg noodles. She strolled leisurely along Church Street with her next-door neighbor, Pix Miller, toward their respective houses. Pix always had pizza on Alliance nights. She had somehow managed to convince her family it was a special treat.
“Poor Patricia," Pix said to Faith, "As if Cindy wasn't enough of a pain in the neck when she was alive. Now they'll lose their deposit with the caterers and everything." Pix was eminently practical.
Faith was thinking of what Patricia had said about Cindy's digs at Robert and wasn't really listening. "What ? Oh, the deposit. I can't imagine a caterer keeping it under these circumstances. I certainly wouldn't.”
Pix laughed and said, "Well, with your food you wouldn't have to. These guys have to get whatever they can before you go back into business.”
It was true that Faith had had a slightly nervous exploratory call from one of the local caterers about her future plans. She had been suitably evasive and quite flattered. New gun in town, or rather new whisk.
“It wouldn't have occurred to me," Pix said, "except I was with Patricia in Talbots the other day and she decided not to get a new coat. ,Something about it never hurt to watch one's pennies.”
Which meant Robert could be making a killing—or be on skid row, in typical local parlance. New Englanders seemed to watch their pennies most when the pennieswere either pouring in or pouring out. Still it gave one pause. Which was it for the Moores?
She said good-bye to Pix and went into the house. Tom was in his study presumably working on the eulogy for Cindy. When Faith came in after tapping lightly on the door, he was staring at the wall.
This was one of the more difficult tasks he had faced so far in his ministry, and the full wastepaper basket by his side attested to the amount of luck he was having getting it done. Benjamin was lying in his playpen by the small bay window staring at a mobile with a slightly puzzled expression, obviously wondering what fish were doing flying around in the air instead of under water where they belonged.
“Tom," said Faith, "What do you know about Robert and Cindy 's relationship ? "
“ Robert, you mean Robert Moore ? "
“Yes. Patricia remarked that she used to make “sly digs' at him at the dinner table."
“ Faith, I imagine Cindy made “sly digs' at anyone unfortunate enough to share a meal with her at one time or another. I never saw him, or Patricia either, treat her in anything but a reasonable way, which makes them both candidates for any kind of sainthood you could mention. What are you getting at? Still Sherlocking?"
“I admit it's farfetched, but she could be so sarcastic and after years and years of it, you might explode."
“Yes, but on Belfry Hill—with a rose and a knife? Sorry, Faith. Try something else."
“All right. Have you heard anything about Robert being in financial difficulties? Pix says Patricia didn't buy a coat last month because she was watching her pennies."
“Which probably meant that Patricia thought she had a perfectly good coat at home and didn't need a new one."
“Yes, probably one from college. One of those duffel coats.”
Tom looked hurt. He had been very fond of his duffel coat in college and couldn't understand why Faith had been so firm against another one as a winter coat. " I have a rule, Tom, that my clothing should never weigh more than I do and I think you should adopt it," she had said.
Faith reluctantly abandoned her line of inquiry, "Okay, you're probably right. I may be grasping at straws—or toggles, as it were. Anyway the Alliance is going with the 'deranged tramp now someplace far away' theory." This was the going theory in town and a lot of people thought MacIsaac should buy it or pretend to and not waste his time and valuable town money on the case.
Tom looked at her in shared disbelief. They laughed and went over to Benjamin.
As he bent into the playpen to pick up his son, Tom said, "What did they say about Dave?" He never underestimated the Alliance as the prime news-gathering agency in town.
“He's still missing. His mother was at the meeting, so of course no one said anything, but Pix and I talked on the way home. She pointed out that Eva looked pretty terrible, but not out of her mind, so she must somehow know he's safe. Which makes sense."
“Yes, I'm sure he's in the area. I can't believe he would run away from all this."
“I wonder if he knew anything about Cindy's photographic interests ? Maybe the two of them were involved in some sort of blackmail scheme with Cindy as bait, but that doesn 't go along with my impressions of Dave."
“Nor mine, but this whole town is beginning to resemble one of those tanks at the aquarium—a few sleepy frogs sitting on rocks at the top and underneath, tangledseaweed and fish frantically darting around. I could almost believe anything."
“I like the fish image. Maybe you could work it into a sermon.”
They moved out of the study toward the kitchen. Tom turned to Faith, " I'm convinced the key to the whole thing is one of those pictures. You're sure you didn't recognize anyone ? "
“It was an odd context, but I'm sure." Faith had been mentally undressing Aleford 's male population ever since her discovery.