Stevie smiled with pleasure. “Thank you. My partner, Davis, and I collected all the rocks that make up the outside walls.” She laughed. “We picked the rockiest section of land to buy and build on so there were plenty.” She gestured in the direction of the building. “You’ve had a long drive. How about a glass of iced tea?”
“That would be wonderful,” Rose said. “Thank you.” Mr. P. and I both nodded.
We followed Stevie back along the path. The house almost seemed to be rising from the land. There was a low platform, like a deck with no railings, in front of the house.
“These boards are from an old barn that was on the property,” Stevie said.
Mr. P. leaned forward for a better look. “Douglas fir?” he asked.
She nodded. “We salvaged everything we could. I have a table inside that’s made from the same wood.” She indicated several chairs grouped around an octagonal wooden table. “Have a seat, or would you like to see the house?”
Rose smiled. “I’d love to see the house if you don’t mind.”
“So would I,” I said.
“I think we all would,” Mr. P. added.
“Okay, then, let’s take the tour,” Stevie said.
The main floor of the stone building was one open space. There was a kitchen at one end and a living/family room at the other with a central woodstove. The wall that faced south was almost completely windows and Stevie showed us the insulated shades that she and her partner had set up on a pulley system so they could be lowered at night or on bright days when the sun made the inside of the house too warm. She explained that the nearby solar panels provided all the energy they needed to power everything in the house. Stairs led to the second floor, where there were two bedrooms. The house was filled with light even with the shades partly drawn and I was captivated by how many things had been repurposed in the well-organized space.
Stevie got a glass pitcher from the refrigerator. There was a tray on the counter with glasses, cloth napkins, and a plate of cookies.
“I can bring this,” I said, indicating the tray.
“Thanks,” she said.
Stevie led the way back outside. Once we were all settled in our chairs with our tea she looked at Mr. P. “First of all, I need to say that I didn’t try to kill Leila.”
“That’s not why we’re here,” he said.
“Although we appreciate your frankness,” Rose added.
“Hey, it would make sense for you to suspect I had something to do with what happened,” Stevie said. “I know how it looks. I’m the one who benefits if Leila is dead.” She stopped speaking and cleared her throat, blinking several times. It was clear that she was emotional about Leila. “What I want is for Leila to wake up and come back to us. No amount of money is better than that.”
“When was the last time you saw Leila?” Rose asked, leaning forward in her seat.
“You mean before she ended up in the hospital?” I noticed that, unlike Mac, Stevie didn’t use the word “accident.” Did she think Mac had had something to do with what had happened?
Rose nodded.
“I saw her the day before she went into the coma. I was in Boston for a conference. We made plans to get together again in a few weeks. There was an exhibit coming to the Museum of Fine Arts that she wanted to drag me to: Japanese woodblock prints and those little carved figures—netsuke. Leila had a thing for Asian art.” Stevie shifted in her chair, pulling both legs up so she was sitting cross-legged. “I was at a lecture on hydroponic greenhouses at the time the heating system in the house would have been tampered with. And for the record I have the skills to mess with the heating system. I’ve learned how to do a lot of things since Davis and I started building this homestead. You can’t exactly just call a repair person when something goes wrong out here.”
So she didn’t believe what happened to her cousin was an accident.
“When I get my share of the trust on my thirty-fifth birthday I plan to start a charitable environmental foundation to promote the kind of lifestyle I’m living and help people learn about sustainable building and farming. It’ll be more than enough to do what I want. I have no designs on Leila’s share. I don’t need it.” Her voice was emphatic.
“Do you mind telling us what Leila was like?” Mr. P. asked.
I reached for a cookie as much to have something to do with my hands as because they looked delicious. I’d been wondering what Leila was like since Erin had first said her name.
A smile spread across Stevie’s face. “She was funny. She was a tiny person but she had this huge laugh and when she started laughing pretty soon you were laughing, too, just because she was. She didn’t take any crap from anyone, but on the other hand she was so kindhearted she wouldn’t even kill a spider in the bathtub.”
Leila sounded like someone I would like, I realized.
“She was only a year older than I am but she always acted like a big sister,” Stevie continued. “I talked to her about guys, about life, everything.” She pressed her lips together for a moment. “I miss that.”
“What was Leila’s relationship like with her sister, Natalie?” Rose asked.
Stevie reached for the pitcher of iced tea and refilled Mr. P.’s glass.
“Thank you,” he said softly. The tea was very good, lemony with a hint of sweetness.
“It’s a good indication of the type of person Leila was,” Stevie said. She paused for a moment. “The type of person she is. She welcomed Natalie and insisted from the beginning that everyone else in the family do the same or stay away. She was angry with her father for keeping Natalie a secret for so long, but Leila never took it out on her.”
She was still holding the pitcher and she turned to me and raised an eyebrow. “Please,” I said, holding out my glass.
She filled it and set the pitcher back on the low table.
“Leila always had a strong sense of what’s right and wrong. When she invited Natalie to work at her business Leila bought a life insurance policy with Natalie as the beneficiary, so if anything ever happened to her, Natalie would have the money to buy Mac out.”
The policy Mr. P. had discovered. Rose and I exchanged a look. It seemed Leila had had some secrets from Mac.
“What were things like between Leila and Mac?” I asked.
Stevie grinned. “They were crazy about one another from the moment they first saw each other. I was there. It was a party and they literally saw each other across a crowded room and it was magic.” Her expression changed, the smile fading from her eyes. “Does Mac know you’re here?” she asked.
“Yes,” Rose said. “And for the record he told us there was no way you could have hurt Leila.”
Stevie hung her head for a moment. “He’s kinder to me than I was to him. I bet he didn’t tell you that we had words when Leila ended up in the hospital.”
“It must have been a very emotional time,” Mr. P. said, his voice warm and kind the way it always was. “Things are said that no one means at times like that. I doubt Mac holds it against you.”
“Maybe he should,” she said. “I’m ashamed to say that I asked him if he had anything to do with what happened.” She gave her head a shake. “I was wrong. Mac loved Leila more than anything in the world. He wouldn’t have hurt her. Of everyone who knew her you can be sure Mac isn’t the guilty one.”
I suddenly felt that the questions we’d been asking were way too personal. Mr. P. was looking at me, I realized.
“Thank you for telling us about Leila,” he said. “I’m wondering if you mind sharing something a little lighter? I’m curious about how you and your partner ended up in the wilds, so to speak, of Maine. I confess the idea of being so independent intrigues me.”
I tried to get a mental image of Mr. P. living off the grid, growing his own vegetables, making bread and getting his electricity from the sun. He’d probably be good at it. The more I got to know the man, the more he surprised me with what he knew and what he could do.