“Of course she did,” Roma said. “And I’m dating Eddie Sweeney.” She shot a quick look at Maggie, who blushed just a little. “First of all, Agatha didn’t have half a million dollars. She had a teacher’s pension and from her day that wasn’t a lot of money. And second, if she did have a little money she wouldn’t leave it to someone she hardly knew.”
“It doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Maggie agreed.
“The story came from Bridget.”
Roma waved her hand like she was chasing away a bug. “Well, Bridget got it wrong or Mary did. Agatha didn’t have that much money. She didn’t have any money.” She pushed her plate away. “It’s just a rumor and it’s wrong.”
“It has to be,” Maggie said. “You saw her. Did Agatha look like someone who had a lot of money?”
Actually she had looked like someone who didn’t spend a lot of money. She wasn’t buying clothes or things for her house. Maybe she’d amassed a small fortune and no one knew about it. Luckily I didn’t have to answer because the Kings were back to collect our plates and deliver slices of apple pie.
I picked up my fork. The pie was better than promised. There was a hint of tartness to the apples, and I could taste the cinnamon and nutmeg. I actually made little groaning sounds as I took a second bite.
Maggie grinned at me over her plate. “I told you it was good,” she said.
I licked apple off the back of my fork. “Good?” I said. “I think I know how Owen feels about catnip.” I’d had Mary’s pie before, but this was warm, with a small scoop of vanilla ice cream melting on top. It was a party in my mouth.
We ate without talking, the pie was that good. I thought about swiping my finger over the plate to catch the last flakes of pastry, but those kind of manners belonged at the home, where only Owen and Hercules could see me. I pushed back my chair so I could stretch my legs.
“I ate too much,” Maggie said, patting her midsection.
“Me, too.” Roma pulled at the front of her sweater.
“Want to walk over to the Winterfest site and take a look at things?” Maggie asked.
“I can’t,” Roma said, getting to her feet. “I’m on the cleanup crew.”
“Kath?” Maggie looked at me.
“Sure,” I said. I was kind of curious to see the sliding hill, the dogsled track and the outdoor rink.
Maggie looked over her shoulder at the back wall. There were dozens of people checking out Eddie and the various photo collages. “Roma just wants to ditch us so she can spend some time with Eddie,” she stagewhispered.
Roma rolled her eyes and headed for the kitchen.
We put on our coats, tugged on hats and mittens and headed for the door. There were still people arriving. “You weren’t kidding when you said the whole town comes to this thing,” I said.
“It’s a social event of the season,” Maggie said as we made our way down the stairs. “Heck, it’s the social event of the year, not to mention Mary makes the best freaking pie in the universe.” She stopped on the last step to wind her scarf around her neck. “There should be a community supper as part of the library centennial,” she said.
“You know, that’s a good idea,” I said. “I’ll mention it to Everett and Rebecca.”
We pushed our way out into the cold night air and I was glad to be outside. It had been getting warm and stuffy in the community center. The parking lot was full of cars and trucks and they were also parked down both sides of the street.
We started toward the marina, where all the outdoor Winterfest activities were taking place.
“Are you really going to give Eddie to Roma when Winterfest is over?” I asked.
Maggie laughed. “I don’t know. It would be kind of funny to stick him in the waiting room at the clinic for a few days and see what kind of rumors that starts.”
I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “I can’t believe people think she’s dating the real Eddie Sweeney, just because she drove around with a mannequin in the front seat of her SUV.”
“So, how do you think the rumors that Agatha left Justin a bunch of money got started?” Maggie asked. She looked both ways for cars and pulled me across the street.
I hesitated. Maggie leaned in front of me. “You don’t think it’s true, do you?”
“I think it could be, at least partly.”
“All right,” Maggie began, lowering her voice because of all the people around now. “Where did Agatha get the money? And why did she leave it to Justin?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know where she got the money. Maybe she saved it. She didn’t seem to be spending much. Maybe she bought Microsoft or Dell stock back in the day.” I could hear voices ahead of me and laughter and music.
“Let’s say, for the sake of argument, she had the money.” Maggie kicked a chunk of frozen snow down the sidewalk. “Why leave it to Justin?”
I gave her the Mr. Spock eyebrow.
“Because of Ruby.” Maggie made a face, as if the words left a bad taste in her mouth.
“Exactly.”
She kicked the chunk of snow again. It collided with a streetlamp and smashed into small bits of snow and ice. “People are going to talk.”
“I know,” I said. “And it’s going to hurt Ruby.”
“You think that’s why she’s not here tonight?”
“Maybe.” We were surrounded by people all heading in the same direction. “Where’s everyone coming from?” I asked.
“First you eat, then you come down here and slide until your stomach hurts,” Maggie said. “It’s a Winterfest tradition.”
As we came around a curve in the road by the marina I saw the venue for the first time. The rink was close to the marina itself. There was a fire going in the outdoor pit between the building and the ice. Beyond that I could see the dogsled track. But what dominated the space was the hill.
It was man-made, or, to be more exact, machine-made. There were eight runs: two for the little ones and six for the adults and teenagers. Walk up the ramps on either side, get in line, grab a sled—which looked like a potato sack and probably was—and then slide like stink to the bottom and crash into the bales of hay.
Maggie grinned at me, eyes sparkling.
“No,” I said.
“Oh, come on. One time.”
I watched Kate, my co-op student, hit a bump and go airborne for a minute. “You want to watch pie come out my nose?” I said.
She pretended to think about that for a minute.
“You can go without me.” I said. “I’ll stand here and cheer for you.”
Maggie made a show of checking her watch. “Oh, darn,” she said. “We have to go through or we’re going to miss the start of the Gotta Dance reunion special.” She held up one hand. “Otherwise . . .”
“Well, of course we wouldn’t want to miss Matt Lauer demonstrate that it is possible for human beings have two left feet,” I said.
“Matt does not have two left feet. He’s a fantastic dancer. He won—”
“—the coveted crystal trophy,” I finished for her. I’d never quite gotten Maggie’s love for the Today show host.
“You’re just jealous because that piece of beefcake in a loincloth lost.”
I blew a raspberry at her. The peace of beefcake she was mocking was Kevin Sorbo, Hercules from the cheesy syndicated series of the same name and the source of my Hercules’ name. Not that I admitted it to anyone.
“Where did you park?” I asked as we made our way back through the crowd.
“I’m about half a block up the hill,” she said. We dashed across the street and walked back to her little bug.
“You still thinking about buying a car?” Maggie asked as she started the car and cranked up the heat.
“Thinking about it is all I’ve done.”
“You need a truck. Something like Ruby’s. Well, maybe less funky.”
I thought about Harry’s truck, heat blasting from the vents. “Maybe a truck would be a good idea.”