“And you didn't hear anything during the night?”
Rebecca shook her head and started to cry. "If only ..."
She couldn't finish. They waited for her to compose herself, which she did, finishing her sentence with "I had" and adding, "There was a bathroom off her room, so even if she was up in the night, I wouldn't have heard her in the back where I am. Sometimes I hear the guests, but after they al came in from the fireworks, I didn't hear a thing until this morning."
“And what was that?"
“Oh, the first birds and a cricket or two. It was stil dark.
Addie and I have always been early risers.”
Pix knew this to be true, but she hadn't known just how early. It made the Rowes, who carried some sort of puritanical gene that made sleeping beyond seven o'clock physical y impossible, look like layabouts.
“When you opened the bedroom door, what did you see?"
“Nothing"
“Nothing?" Rebecca was getting flightier as the questions went on, what with birds, crickets, and now this.
“There was no one in the bed or in the room. I thought she was in the bathroom and so I went in to cal to her. I didn't want to wake the others, of course. They do like their sleep. Why, we had a couple here last summer who didn't get up until noon every single day!"' Earl tried to lead her back to the matter at hand.
“You didn't see her, so you cal ed to her at the bathroom door?"
“Oh no, I didn't get that far. Why, you couldn't miss seeing that quilt, and I had no idea Addie was in it until I pul ed it off and then it was her feet first and I knew right away she had passed, because they were so stil ." The tears were running down her cheeks again.
“And you're sure this wasn't one of her own quilts or a quilt that's been in the house."
“Oh no, not a red-and-white one. Addie didn't like them. Said they looked too plain. Hers had lots of colors,"
Rebecca added admiringly.
“But isn't it possible the quilt was one someone else made and it's been in a drawer or trunk for a while?" Pix gave Earl credit. He knew the ways things happened in these entrenched families. She was sure there were things in the trunks in the attic at The Pines that neither she nor Mother had ever laid eyes on.
“No," Rebecca said firmly. "We cleaned out everything last fal and there isn't a trunk or drawer in the house and barn we didn't go through. Got rid of a lot of rubbish. Made some money from it, too. What people wil pay for worthless junk never fails to astonish me”
And that appeared to be that. Earl took Rebecca back to the kitchen and left her under Norman's care. Another state police officer was chatting with the guests. Her grandparents had come from the western Pennsylvania town where the couple had lived al their lives and they were having a grand time playing "What A Coincidence!" and
"Do You Know?”
After Rebecca was settled, Earl returned and said to Pix, "So your mother cal ed you first?"
“Yes, I think she wanted someone to be with Rebecca as soon as possible and I'm not that far away. I'd like to take Rebecca over to Mother's when you're finished. It must be very painful for her to be here”
Earl was shaking his head. "First, Rebecca doesn't cal me, then your mother waits God knows how long." He was taking it altogether much too personal y.
“They're old ladies. Even a policeman they know as wel as you is frightening at a time like this. I'm sure nothing was hurt by the slight delay”
The state police officer looked tired.
“We understand you went upstairs after you arrived."
His tone indicated it wasn't clear whether she'd be indicted or not.
“Yes. I wanted to say good-bye." Pix had the grace to lower her eyes.
Earl was getting impatient. "Look, we have to talk to the rest of the people. Pix, what do you make of al this business with the quilts? Beats me how there can be any connection between Mitchel Pierce and the Bain-bridges. I doubt he ever did any work for them. Addie wouldn't have trusted him."
“I didn't see any mark on this quilt. Of course I wasn't in the room long and most of it is wrapped around the body.
But I agree. I can't see a connection. Although"—she was thinking out loud—"Rebecca just said they sold a lot of things from the barn and attic. Maybe they sold some of it to Mitchel , except I don't know what that tel s us"
“Good thinking." Earl was scribbling hurriedly.
“Isn't it possible that a woman her age might forget about a quilt or two?" the officer asked. "There seem to be enough quilts in this house to cover half the beds in the county.”
Pix had thought of this, too—and Rebecca was definitely absentminded—but the fact that the quilts around both bodies were the same colors had to be more than a coincidence.
“It's possible—maybe even more than possible. I don't see any reason why you shouldn't take her to your mother's after we ask her about who they sold the stuff to. We'l go over there if we need her for anything. And where are you going to be?”
Pix was glad Earl wanted to stay in touch. She was sure he'd tel her if there was a cross on the quilt and maybe what had kil ed Addie when he knew. It was hard to believe from the expression on the woman's face that the death had been a natural one.
“After I leave Mother's, I want to go over to the camp and tel Samantha what has happened. She's probably wondering where I was this morning and I don't want her to hear the news from someone else. Then I'l go home."
“Okay, but no details at the moment. I know you know how to keep your mouth shut.”
Pix thought Earl intended this as a compliment. It also meant she was forgiven for going upstairs. The state policeman was not so cordial. He didn't even look up as she left the room.
Rebecca was stil in her night things, but it didn't take her long to change. She seemed relieved to be going to Ursula's. Pix had phoned her mother while Rebecca was getting ready to say they were on their way and admonished her to keep quiet about what had happened.
“It's a little late for that, dear. Half the island has seen the police cars in the drive. Gert told me that when she got here an hour ago and of course 1 had to tel her Addie was dead. I didn't mention the quilt, but it wil get out soon enough. These things always do.”
So much for shielding Samantha, Pix thought, but she resolved to stop by the camp, anyway.
Driving Rebecca over to Mother's. Pix was struck by the normalcy of the day going on al around her.
Vacationing families were beachcombing alongside the causeway. Someone was taking advantage of the influx of holiday visitors and having a yard sale. The UPS delivery truck barreled past in the opposite direction and old Mr.
Marshal sat on his front porch overlooking the brightly painted Smurfs, flamingos, posteriors of fat ladies in bloomers, and other tasteful lawn ornaments that he made for sale in his woodworking shop out back.
“Mother says you're to stay as long as you want," Pix said.
“I know, it's very kind of her, but I don't like to be away from my garden. In this weather, I have to water twice a day.
Addie always loved my roses." She was breaking down again. "Now I'l be putting them on her grave”
There was a lot Pix wanted to ask Rebecca. She'd said there hadn't been any strangers around this summer—
except for the guests, whom of course they didn't know until they'd been there a while—when Earl had asked her. But Pix wanted to ask about Norman and also whether the Bainbridges had sold anything to Mitch. This last, she was able to work in. Rebecca had quieted down again by the time they turned off the main road. The Pines was at the tip of a smal peninsula and often there was water on either side of them. The view of Eggemoggin Reach was spectacular at this point. Today it was fil ed with sailboats, moving slowly. There wasn't much more wind offshore than on. Pix had a sudden desire to be on one, cruising gently toward the Camden Hil s, watching the granite shore meander along below the tal evergreens. Sailing always bordered on voyeurism: a house at the end of a private road exposed for al to see, occupants of that special beach no one else had ever discovered forced to share the secret.