He disappeared down a back set of stairs that must have been the servants’ route to the first floor. Harriet stopped in the upstairs parlor to collect her purse and get last-minute instructions from Jenny. She came down the main staircase but found the entry hall empty. A quick glance through the etched glass insert in the front door verified that Aiden hadn't gone out without her. His rental car was still in the driveway.
She paced the length of the foyer. The downstairs parlor was empty. Several doors opened off the entry on the opposite wall. The second one she passed was slightly ajar. She could hear raised voices coming from an interior room.
"You put Mom's house on the market without even telling me?” Aiden said. “She's not even buried yet, and you've scheduled an estate sale? What about Marcel? Does he know about this?"
She didn't hear the reply, but from what he said next, it sounded like Marcel did know.
"Were either of you going to tell me? Or was I just going to drive up one day and find my stuff gone and someone else living here?"
"Look, Aiden, you haven't been here. Don't play the injured party with me. You've been half a world away playing Dr. Dolittle while the business has been crumbling out from under us. Mom was going to have to sell the house anyway. And frankly, we need the estate sale to pay for the funeral. They want cash, and Mom doesn't have any. Uncle Bertie is barely keeping the business going while he looks for a qualified buyer. He can't help-he already sold his house. He and Sheryl are living in a two-bedroom apartment over Green's Tavern out on Shore Road."
"How could this happen?” Aiden demanded. “When I left we were getting quarterly payments that were substantial."
"Things change, little bro. That was three years ago. Have you looked at your statements lately? We haven't gotten anything in a year and a half. While you were off chasing Simba through the brush, Marcel was loaning Mom money so she could meet the payroll."
"What about the insurance money from Dad? And I know Mom had insurance. What about the money from Grandma Binoche?"
"Are you thick? It's gone,” Michelle said, her voice rising in pitch. “All of it-spent, borrowed against, gone."
"Everything?” Aiden said in a tone of disbelief.
"Not Grandma Binoche's money, but that didn't do Mom any good, because Grandma set it up so Mom couldn't touch it, so it doesn't matter. If you ask me, it's a good thing Mom died when she did."
"Shut up,” Aiden shouted. “Just shut up."
"Don't be naive. After Daddy died, Mom lived for The Vitamin Factory. It was failing, and she couldn't bear to go down with the ship."
"You're not trying to tell me she shot herself in the back of the head, are you?"
"Of course not. I'm just telling you how things are."
Harriet heard footsteps. She returned to the front door and was gazing out at the driveway when Aiden stormed into the entryway.
"Come on,” he said, and went out without waiting for her.
He climbed into a black Jeep Cherokee. Harriet got into the passenger seat, and he accelerated down the steep driveway as she buckled her seatbelt.
"Is everything okay? I mean, I know it isn't okay, but is there anything I can do?” Her words sounded false in her ears. She knew nothing she could say or do would change the pain he was feeling.
He pierced her with an icy glance but said nothing. They were off the hill and driving down Main Street before he spoke.
"I can't believe Mom's business could go into such a steep decline in just three years. Has the economy been that bad while I've been gone?"
"Things were slow when the dot-com bubble burst, but that's been more than three years ago. It's hard to imagine that would impact the vitamin business. I don't know what to tell you. Can you look at the company books?"
"Technically, I suppose I could-when my dad died he left us each a share of the company. His will stated we didn't get to participate in the management unless Mom became disabled or invited us to participate. Uncle Bertie has the other share of the company, though."
"Is that a problem?"
"Well, let's just say he and I aren't on the best of terms."
"You could do some research on the internet. I assume The Vitamin Factory was privately held, but you might be able to find a public competitor and get an idea of how the industry has been over the last few years."
She wanted to tell him he needed to look at some rather large losses the company had incurred over the last year, but she couldn't figure out a way to work it into the conversation.
"Could you talk to the family attorney?"
"Do you think he would tell me anything? I've had nothing to do with the business. And then there's confidentiality. Isn't that the excuse lawyers always use so they don't have to answer any uncomfortable questions?"
"He's your lawyer, too, though. That should count for something, shouldn't it?"
He pulled up in front of the Main Street Veterinary Clinic.
"Want to see where I'm going to work?” he asked, ending the discussion.
Harriet followed him around the building to a side door. They entered into what looked like the employee breakroom. A long wooden table was pushed against the wall with the street-side window. The opposite wall held a sink, microwave and two-burner stove.
They passed through into a hallway. Harriet's nose was immediately assaulted with the pungent odor of disinfectant.
One wall had doors spaced evenly along its length. Aiden went to the third door, opened it and entered. She followed him.
"This will be my office,” he said and spread his arms to indicate the small space. A scarred wooden desk dominated the room. A mismatched bookcase filled one wall, battered file cabinets the other.
"It's…” She paused searching for the right word. “Charming,” she finished.
His mouth curved into a wry smile.
"The low man on the totem pole gets the leftovers,” he said. “I have to pay my dues.” A few papers were scattered on the surface of the desk. He picked them up and looked at each one in turn. “I'll have to go up front. None of these are my schedule."
He led the way down the hallway and through another door into the front office and reception area.
"Aiden,” called a high-pitched voice from the waiting room. “Over here."
Harriet looked across the reception counter and saw Sarah Ness clutching a fabric-and-nylon-netting pet carrier containing a yowling cat. She was waving to Aiden.
He went to the counter. “Hi."
"I brought Rachel in to have her sneezing looked at. You said you weren't going to be here, so I made an appointment for her with Dr. Romig, but I have to wait because they are fitting her in. Can you examine her instead?"
Aiden looked around for help.
"I haven't really started working yet,” he began, but was interrupted by Helen Martin, the veterinary technician who ran patient intake.
"Dr. Romig's schedule is stacked, and it would be doing us all a favor if you could look at the cat.” Her expression finished the thought.
Aiden looked at Harriet.
"I'll call Mama Theresa's,” she said and pulled out her cell phone.
"Here, use ours,” Helen offered and pushed a desk phone toward her. “Come on back here, and I'll get you a lab coat and an exam room,” she said to Aiden, and took him through another door into the bowels of the clinic.
"What are you doing here?” Sarah asked as soon as Harriet hung the phone up.
"Aiden's giving me a ride to Mama Theresa's to pick up pizza. Some of the Loose Threads are going through Avanell's stash today, and I'm on a food run."
"Mavis left me a message, but I had a meeting."
Harriet decided not to point out that she wasn't in a meeting now.
"You certainly seem to be getting cozy with Avanell's son,” Sarah said.
"He just gave me a ride to get pizza, that's all."
"Oh, please. I saw the way you looked at him. Isn't he a little young?"
"I'm almost certain he's old enough to drive."