By the time Maggie rejoined him, one towel wrapped around her head and one around her body, Will’d finished about a third of the potato chips.
“Cape Cod does wonderfully well by chips,” he commented, taking another handful. “But we still need to talk.”
“Will, I’m sorry.”
“So am I. But I’m serious about not liking what happened. First, though, I know you’re dying to tell me your news, so go ahead. Talk. What did you find out that was so important?”
“Bottom line? The boys talked. They told me they’d never bought drugs.”
“Of course they hadn’t,” Will agreed. “That’s your news? I could have told you that before you left.”
“But, if they’d wanted to, guess who they said they could have gone to?”
“Haven’t a clue. The Wizard of Oz. Plus, I only know a handful of people in Winslow, and if you say it’s Gussie, I will be genuinely surprised.”
“Very funny. No, not Gussie. But almost as strange. They said it was Cordelia.”
“The deaf woman who was shot yesterday morning?”
“That’s what they said.”
Will was silent for a moment. “You’re right. That puts an entirely different light on her murder. And on Diana’s father’s, too.”
“Diana told me she’d seen guns in Cordelia’s room. Now the reason for the guns makes more sense. But when the police searched the house they must not have found drugs. And if they found the guns, no one mentioned them.”
“If the guns were registered, maybe they didn’t seem important at the time. Or maybe they were somewhere the police didn’t look. When they searched the house the first time they were looking for things related to Dan Jeffrey, weren’t they? Not related to Cordelia.”
“I’d think they’d have paid attention to several guns. Especially since Dan Jeffrey had been shot. And they’d definitely have noticed if they’d found drugs.”
“True. So if the boys were right, and Cordelia was dealing, then either she’d stopped, she had a really good hiding place, or her inventory was temporarily out.”
“That would have been almost too convenient,” Maggie said. “But even if Cordelia was dealing drugs, it doesn’t tell us who killed her. Or who killed Dan Jeffrey.”
“No. But it puts her in a position to have had some unsavory colleagues. She might have owed money to her supplier. Or maybe one of her usual customers wanted drugs, and for some reason she couldn’t get them for him. Anything to do with drugs can get nasty and violent quickly. It’s not a gentlemanly sort of crime. And because of that, now that you’ve stumbled onto something critical to these murders, you definitely have to tell the police, and step away. Because when you’re talking drug violence you’re in over your head.” Will reached over and drew her next to him. “And much as sometimes you drive me totally crazy, I do love that head of yours, Maggie Summer. I want it to stay intact, and attached to these beautiful shoulders.” He gently pulled the towel away from her hair, which fell, damp and wavy, down her back. He took one strand and twisted it around his fingers, and then bent down and kissed her neck. “I love the way you stride in, wanting to conquer the world and make everything right. But, truthfully, an hour ago I was ready to strangle you. There are times it’s best to leave law enforcement to the professionals.”
“Yes, Will,” Maggie said, looking into his eyes, which looked very blue.
“I don’t want to spend the rest of my life worried about what trouble you’re getting yourself into. If I wanted to marry a policewoman or a detective, I’d ask my friend Nick to introduce me to one of his colleagues. But I want to marry you, Maggie Summer. And I want us to have a wonderful, long life together.” Will reached down and picked up Maggie’s right hand and kissed the R-E-G-A-R-D ring he’d given her.
Maggie’s eyes opened wide and she leaned back slightly. For a moment she didn’t say anything. “Are you…”
“I was going to buy you an official engagement ring, but then I decided it would be more fun for us to buy one together. Is that horribly unromantic?”
Maggie stood up, holding the towel around her. “Will Brewer. Did you just propose to me?”
“I hope so. Would you like me to try again? I haven’t had a lot of practice.”
“No, no. I mean…”
“All you have to do is say ‘yes;’ it’s a one-syllable word. You’re usually good with words.”
“I know.” Maggie moved from the bed.
Will just looked at her. “You’re not going to say yes.”
“I love you. I want to say ‘yes.’”
“Then?”
“I have to tell you something first.”
“I know, I know. It’s complicated. You live in New Jersey. I live in Maine. There’s Aunt Nettie. I know we can’t get married right away. But we’ll work things out. We’ll make it work! We love each other, Maggie!”
“We do. But it’s none of those things. It’s something else.” Maggie sat on the bed, but not next to him. “Will, I was going to tell you this weekend. I still want to be a mother. I’ve applied to Our World, Our Children to adopt a child. My home study should be finished by Christmas. You remember—the agency we did the benefit for last spring.”
It was Will’s turn to be silent.
“You liked the people there, Will.”
“They were nice people. But a child, Maggie. That’s a lifetime responsibility. And you know how I feel about that.”
“It’s important to me. And if I wait much longer, I’ll be too old.”
“How could you do that without talking to me? How could you plan the rest of your life without discussing it with the man you say you love?” Will walked over to the window. He stood for a few minutes, looking out at the darkness, his hands clenched. “I’m sorry, Maggie. I can’t change that much. I’ve taken responsibility for Aunt Nettie. I’ve proposed to you. But I can’t take on parenthood. I can’t. And you can’t expect me to. I’ve never pretended I could do that.”
“In relationships everyone has to give up something; everyone has to change.”
He turned and looked at her. “Hell, Maggie. Don’t tell me I can’t change. In the past year I’ve changed almost everything in my life! I’ve given up my house. I’ve moved to Maine. I’ve changed the way I do business. I’ve taken on responsibility for Aunt Nettie. I’ve just proposed to the second person in my life I’ve ever loved. Don’t tell me I won’t change! What are you prepared to give up, Maggie? What are you prepared to change?”
Maggie didn’t answer.
“Think about it, then. Because it sounds to me as though you don’t want to change much in your life at all. Nothing that has anything to do with me, anyway.”
Chapter 38
Camomile: Engergy [sic] Will Surmount Adversity.Hand-colored steel engraving from American Flora, 1851. Woman on columned balcony, staring at storm clouds above; man on ladder who has climbed to the balcony reaches up to her. Below the title is the poem, “We must on, —be our pathway o’er flowers or o’er thorns, / Do thunder-clouds gloom it, or sunbeams adorn! / Then sigh not! It never will lighten our woe, / But smile, and e’en pleasure from sorrow may flow.” Chamomile flowers surround the picture. Page, 7 x 9.5 inches, toned edges. Picture, 5.5 x 7.5 inches. Price: $50.
The sound of Maggie’s cell phone interrupted them.
“Forget the proposal, Maggie. Forget me. I was wrong to think this was going to work. If it weren’t for this damn hurricane I’d leave for Maine tonight. I’m going downstairs. I need time alone.” The door slammed behind Will.
Maggie stood, shivering, as though a cold wave had just broken over her.
No. This couldn’t have happened. Will couldn’t have walked out on her.