And he was. In seconds.
“Faith Sibley Fairchild. There are two children in Ben's room! Would you mind telling me where you got that other baby?”
Faith gasped. Surely she had mentioned to Tom that she was taking care of Zoë, hadn't she?
“Oh Tom, I'm sure I must have told you I was taking care of Zoë until the police can find out who Bird was and if she has any family."
“No, you omitted to mention that fact." Tom started to laugh. "Of course it's fine to take care of her, but you have to imagine what it is like to bend over Ben's crib and realize there is a fairly new baby in a cradle by the side. Nice cradle, too."
“I'm glad you like it. It's ours. I got it at the auction.”
Tom beamed. He wanted a big family. "That's great, sweetheart. Now, why don't we do something about filling it? Presuming, of course, that Zoë is not a permanent resident."
“Well, it would make life simple, and what if they can't find any relatives? I do feel responsible."
“Because you had the misfortune to find the body? Why don't we wait and see what happens." Tom reached over and turned out the light. "We've had enough surprises for one night."
“Don't be so sure," Faith said as she began to kiss his ear. She was very fond of his lobes.
Sunday morning dawned fair and fine. Pix left after consuming a stack of blueberry pancakes. She hadn't heard a thing the night before and vowed never to take an antihistamine again, no matter how miserable.
“What if it hadn't been Tom? I would have been useless!" she wailed.
“I don't think this particular situation will arise in the near future, and I'm sure you can sleep safely with or without your hay-fever medicine," Tom said.
“No, if I can't even hear the dogs or the phone, it's too strong. I'll have to get something else from Dr. Kane when I get home." Pix was adamant. "I have to get Samantha now. See you in church.”
They waved good-bye from the porch and settled down on the lawn with more coffee and the two children.
“Okay, Faith, tell all. I want to hear everything you've been sticking that pretty little nose of yours into." Tom sounded firm.
Faith felt it was a bit unfair to accuse her of idle curiosity when both bodies had virtually found her. But she started from the beginning and told him everything. Or almost everything. She glossed over the quilt, sticking it in the midst of Bird's murder and making only a vague allusion to the map and treasure. It was, after all, supposition. To assuage her guilt, she mentioned the break-in. Tom got up and paced around the yard.
“I really wish you and Ben—and Zoë if you feel you must—would come back with me. It's only a few days, and I'd feel much better knowing you were safe. We can still be here for Labor Day."
“I am safe, Tom. Sgt. Dickinson was sure it was kids looking for liquor and it's not likely to be repeated. Remember, they picked a time when I wasn't here. And what would I do down there? You'll be busy and I'd rather not attend the workshops."
“There's a beautiful lake and you could sit on the beach with the kids," Tom pointed out.
“All day? No thank you. And what about the food? You said yourself it was abysmal," Faith protested.
“Food isn't everything, Faith."
“Bite your tongue!”
They glared at each other a moment; then Faith took Tom's hand and stroked the back of it gently. She loved the fine reddish hairs that grew there. "I know you're worried and I love you for it, but I'm a grown-up too. If I thought it was dangerous, I'd leave."
“Promise?"
“Promise.”
They went inside, got ready for church, and were in good time for the service. The bell, hung high in the pointed steeple of the small white clapboard church facing the harbor, was just starting to peal as they drove over the hill into Sanpere Village. Ben and Zoë were deposited in the child care overseen by volunteers, among them Samantha and Arlene, who reached for the children delightedly. Faith raised an eyebrow at Tom. "And what about baby-sitters in New Hampshire?"
“All right, all right, I've already given in. Put your life in danger just so you don't have to search for a baby-sitter.”
“Women do it all the time, Tom.”
Faith sat contentedly in a pew. The sun streamed in the long, plain-glass windows. The only ornament was a large bouquet of flowers on the simple altar in front of the cross. Prize gladiolas from someone's garden were mixed with ferns from the woods, Queen Anne's lace, and other wildflowers. The glads, never Faith's favorite, looked definitely outclassed.
The sermon was as unadorned as the church, and Faith enjoyed the service. A few well-chosen words, a rousing hymn or two, a quiet moment for prayer, then they were out in the bright sunshine greeting friends and neighbors. In Faith and Tom's case, this meant saying hello to Pix again and nodding to Nan Hamilton. She came over and Faith introduced Tom.
“I'm afraid my husband is not a great one for church, Reverend Fairchild."
“There are many ways to worship," Tom said.
“Now, that's just what Freeman always says. You two ought to get together sometime."
“I'd enjoy that.”
They collected Ben and Zoë and drove back through the village and turned at the Fraziers' house to get onto Route 17. The cars in front of them appeared to be slowing down, and Faith rolled down her window and leaned out to see what was happening.
“Pull over, Tom! There's a police car in the Fraziers' driveway and some cop is putting Bill Fox in the backseat! I've got to find out what's going on."
“They may only be bringing him in for questioning. He was going to marry the girl and presumably he knew her very well."
“But they could do that here. Why take him some other place?" Faith sprinted along the road and was in time to see the police car pull out and turn left, the way off the island. The Fraziers were standing on their porch. Louise was crying.
Faith walked slowly up to them, unsure now whether she was intruding, but Elliot called out, "Oh Faith, this is terrible. I'm glad you're here. We can't believe it." She climbed the stairs.
“They've taken Bill to Ellsworth. They think he killed Bird!"
“That's incredible. What possible reason could they have for accusing him?”
Louise spoke, her normally soft voice a whisper. "They found the weapon in his tool shed. They also found a drill and some corks."
“You mean they think he killed Roger too?"She nodded.
Faith thought rapidly. "Let me tell my husband what's happened. He can leave the children at the Millers' and come back with Pix. Sam is Bill's lawyer, isn't he? I think Pix should get in touch with him right away.”
The Fraziers seemed grateful for her help, and when she came back from telling Tom, they moved inside and sat in the kitchen.
“What did Bill say about the evidence?" Faith asked. Louise paused to pour some tea, and having a mug to hold on to seemed to allow her to strengthen her voice.
“Nothing, absolutely nothing at first. He just stared at them as if they were crazy, which of course they are," she answered. "Then he stood up and said, `I guess you want me to go with you,' got his jacket, and went. We told him we'd follow and he said not to bother, but as soon as we've talked to Pix, we'll go up there.”
The two of them looked terribly frail and all of their years. Faith knew that Tom would go with them. He could leave for New Hampshire from Ellsworth. After the events in Aleford when Faith had discovered Cindy Shepherd's corpse, Tom had become an old hand at police procedures and comforting the incarcerated and their friends and families.
“Did the police say what the weapon was?"