“Yes. I don’t think they know any more than when they first started questioning people.”
“Maybe. I suppose it’s too early to tell. People think Crawford did it. He hated Fontaine. He was missing for about fifteen or twenty minutes. Bad timing. He didn’t kill him, though.”
“He could have paid someone else.”
Martha laughed, an unexpected reaction to Cody. “Never. Crawford is too smart to ever let emotions foul up his life. If he were caught, he’d be dragged through a court of law. . . . Not Crawford. Too cold-blooded and that was not a cold-blooded murder.”
“I never thought of that.” Cody wrapped both hands around the coffee mug to warm herself. “What are you going to do?”
“About Crawford?”
“Well, I wasn’t thinking about that. I meant here. What will happen to the business?”
“I think Sorrel will sell it. Right now she’s in no shape to make a major decision and I told her I’d finish up the jobs outstanding. If I had the money, I’d buy it. Fontaine was hardly regular in his work habits. He was good at bidding jobs and I learned a lot from him but a strong work ethic was not part of his makeup. At the risk of bragging, I kept this business on track. I love the creative part of this. Love design. I know I could make a success of this.”
“Crawford would buy it for you. He’ll do anything to get you back.”
“Is that your opinion?”
Cody, not the most socially conscious creature, said, “Yes. Other people think that, too, but I guess it’s hard to trust someone after they’ve—well—I’m kind of going through that myself only I was the one who screwed around.”
Martha lowered her eyes for an instant. “What are you going to do?”
“About Doug?”
“No. About your life.”
“I don’t know. No one will hire me. I guess they’d hire me to dig ditches. Places want drug tests now. I don’t mind that.” She sighed. “What I mind is everyone peering at me as though I’m under a microscope. I think half of the people want me to fall on my face and the other half don’t.”
“Life.” Martha smiled, a tinge of sadness in her face.
“I didn’t think it would be this hard. The receptionist at Real Estate Virginia, Marcy Talmadge, took my résumé and blew me off. I remember that sorry bitch from high school.” She ate another cookie in defiance.
“No one forgets anything around here. It’s the reverse of California.”
“Maybe I should move there.”
“No.” Martha quickly added, “I mean, it’s beautiful. I can’t make a decision like that for you but I think there are so many lost people there.” She measured her words. “What did Fontaine mean to you?”
“Me?” A look of pure surprise crossed her beautiful features.
“You.”
“Fun. Never knew what he’d do next. And he was generous.”
“To pretty girls.” She stopped, thought, then added, “Actually, he was generous to most people. He had a way about him. He lived for the moment. He never thought about the consequences of his actions. I wish I could be more, uh—present—without getting into the trouble he did. “ She exhaled. “I never leave the house without an umbrella, Handi-Wipes, and a box of Band-Aids.”
“That’s probably why Fontaine liked you so much. Opposites attract.”
“I don’t know. I always thought he hired me to get back at Crawford, discovered I was good at managing the office, the clients, reading blueprints, scheduling jobs and workers, and counted himself lucky.”
“He was lucky. Until the end. Say, Martha, I meant it. Don’t you think Crawford would buy this business for you?”
“I don’t know. I’d hate to be beholden to him.”
“What if you worked out some kind of buyout over time? I mean if you two don’t get back together.”
Martha appraised Cody. “It’s a possibility.”
“Because if you don’t go out and bid new landscaping jobs, you’ll fall behind. You can’t wait until the company is legally yours.”
“Isn’t it amazing how your mind works when you stop drinking?”
“I’ve wasted a lot of time.”
“Think how you’d feel if you dried out at sixty-two. You haven’t wasted all that much. Besides this will give you a checkered past, which will make you more fascinating to the stick-in-the-muds. Plenty of those around here.” Martha picked up a napkin, placing it under her coffee mug. “Do you want to work here?”
“Yes.”
Martha squared her shoulders; her voice was warm but authoritative. “You know, I believe we could work together but I have to know something. Tell me straight. Did you sleep with Fontaine?”
“Yes, but didn’t everyone?”
“I didn’t.”
“My mother didn’t.” Cody laughed.
“What was the attraction? I’d think to someone your age he’d look, well, old.”
“Yeah, a little. He taught me stuff. How to dress and what to drink. Not that I’ll need that anymore. He paid attention to me and he’d give me money sometimes. If I’d fall behind on the rent or get messed up . . . he took care of things.”
“You didn’t feel that you betrayed Sorrel?”
“No. He betrayed Sorrel. I was along for the ride.” A trace of bitterness, a whiff, lingered in the air.
“Did you sleep with him while you were with Doug?”
“Doug harped on me. Nagged. Once he smashed my bottle of tequila, you know, the kind with the worm in it.” She drew in a deep breath. “I cheated on him. Hell, I cheated on everyone.”
“There’s enough money in the till for me to hire you for four months. Not a lot but better than the last job you had. Maybe we can keep this company going. Start Monday?”
“Deal.” Cody held out her hand.
Martha shook it. “Deal.” She smiled. “Think Sister will cancel tomorrow?”
“No. Takes a hurricane or blizzard to stop her. She’ll call this snow a ‘dusting.’ ”
They both laughed.
CHAPTER 55
Deep in the wood a crisscrossing of mountain lion and coyote tracks attracted Inky’s attention. She’d left her own delicate prints in the snow, a tighter track than the red fox’s. As this was her first snow she hadn’t realized how tired she would get. She abandoned the idea of dropping down into the cornfields. She circled behind a cairn. A mouse had to be in there somewhere. She was right.
Nibbling on her breakfast, she heard the horn far away. Hounds could move better in the snow than she could, so she started for home, a short quarter mile away.
A soft hoot stopped her. “Inky. Coyote coming this way and the hounds are on him.”
“I’ll hurry.” She talked as she ran, Athena flying slowly overhead. “Did you have a good night?”
“When the weather’s bad I hunt the barns. Eight mice.”
Impressed, Inky said, “I’m satisfied with one.” She reached her den, sitting down outside it. “This stuff makes me tired.”
“Don’t venture far from your den in deep snow, Inky. It can be fatal. Sometimes the snow will get an icy crust on top. That’s not so bad but you can slip and slide halfway to China.” She chortled. “Wings are a big advantage.”
“I’ll let you know when I sprout some.”
The horn sounded a bit closer, maybe two miles away.
“They cast behind Foxglove Farm.” Athena perched on a low limb, her head turned nearly upside down. “Didn’t take long to pick up the coyote. They run straight as a die. You’d best be careful of them. They’ll eat your game and run you out, too. Right now there’s enough for everybody but during a famine the coyote will be your enemy. Never forget that. Not so good for the hounds either.”