Murder in Nice (34 page)

“
He’s staying in Aix,”
Haley said.

Maggie touched Laurent’s arm. “I’m going to
take a shower and lie down for an hour.”

Laurent nodded and turned to Haley. “Where
in Aix?”

*****

Two hours later, Ben walked into the living
room at Domaine St-Buvard. He had a large white piece of medical
tape across his nose. Both eyes were blackened. Frankly, Maggie was
surprised someone hadn’t punched her brother in the face before
now. Probably had.

Many times.

She sat on the couch, an afghan wrapped
around her legs, a large cup of tea in front of her. Haley was
putting the children down for their nap. After arriving home with
Ben, Laurent had gone straight to his study.

When she saw Ben, Maggie held up a hand
before he could speak. “Don’t tell me. I don’t care.”

“
I would at least like to
tell my side of things.”

“
It doesn’t matter. I only
have one question for you. After that, you can leave, drop dead,
join the Peace Corps….I don’t care.”

Obviously the process of attempting to roll
his eyes was painful, if not slightly dizzying, as she watched Ben
put a hand to his head and wince. “What’s your question?” he
asked.

“
Was the baby
yours?”

Ben looked at her and for a moment she
thought he’d deny it. His face softened and he glanced upstairs,
listening for sounds of Haley and the children.

“
When did you find out
about it?” Maggie asked.

“
In Nice.”

“
No wonder you’ve been out
of sorts.”

He pointed to his face. “You know your
husband did this, right? Broke my nose?”

While Laurent
had
mentioned it, the
reason
why
hadn’t
been immediately forthcoming during the car ride back. Maggie
assumed her brother stepped over the line once too often. Seeing
the extent of the damage on her brother’s face this morning set off
alarm bells in her mind. Laurent had more power of self-control
than the Pope. If he hadn’t been able to endure Ben for
two days
—worse, had been
driven to create this kind of physical damage—something serious
must have happened between them.

And Maggie had no earthly idea what that
was.

She put the thought from
her mind and forced herself to focus on the task at hand. The one
terrible, heartbreaking thing that she had wrestled with half the
night and was most afraid of in the world—
that her own brother was capable of cold-blooded
murder
—was on the table in front of her
right now. Would he lie? Would she be able to tell if he
did?

“
Lanie was blackmailing
you,” she said.

He looked down to his hands. A very
un-Ben-like gesture, and an admission tantamount to an announcement
over a public address system.

Maggie took a breath and dove in. “I can
only imagine how she phrased it. Did she remind you of your
position in the community? Did she talk about your being a
respected member of your parish and on the board of Catholic
Charities? I know Lanie. She wouldn’t have held anything back.”

He didn’t speak.

“
Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me
she didn’t threaten to tell the world about your happy
event.”

He grunted and then spoke softly, as if
afraid he’d be overheard. “She said she’d send out baby
announcements.”

Maggie let the silence grow between them for
a moment. “There’s no way she would have kept the baby,” she said
finally.

“
I couldn’t take the
chance,” he said, his eyes on his knuckles, his fingers moving
relentlessly, rubbing an imaginary stain off his hands.

“
So. Did you do
it?”

He looked at Maggie with tears shimmering in
his eyes. His silent admission prompted a fresh wave of nausea in
Maggie. She’d known it, been expecting it, but the reality of
knowing for sure was as shocking as a punch to the gut. “You killed
her and your own child?” Maggie felt her skin tighten and grow
cold.

“
Hardly a child,” Ben said
bitterly, but he looked away as he said it.

Maggie stood. She was pretty sure she was
about to vomit up her lunch and she didn’t want to do it in the
living room.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ben
reach out for her, and then seemed to notice for the first time
that she was wearing a sling and drew his hand back. He instantly
recoiled and Maggie realized Laurent must have come into the room
behind her. She took a long breath to steady her stomach and felt
Laurent’s hand on her good shoulder.

“
Ça va,
chérie
?” he murmured to her.

She felt his strength and calm seep into her
and she stood a little taller. “I'm fine, Laurent. Would you mind
calling the police, though? My brother needs to talk to them.” She
turned and Laurent brought her gently into his arms, his hand on
the back of her head. She heard Ben get to his feet.

“
That won’t be necessary,”
Ben said, his voice hoarse. “But if I could get a ride to Nice,
we’ll just do this thing properly.”

Maggie turned in Laurent’s arms and faced
her brother. For the first time since she’d seen him this trip, he
looked almost…relaxed.

“
You are giving yourself
up?” Laurent asked him.

“
I am. And I’d be grateful
if, as your last official act as my brother-in-law,” Ben said
stiffly, “you would deliver me.”

*****

Watching the sunset on the vineyard, Maggie
felt a new, gut-level connection to the view. Somehow, after her
conversation with Laurent, she felt differently about the vineyard.
Always before it had been Laurent’s vineyard, Laurent’s project,
Laurent’s obsession. This evening, for the first time, Maggie saw
it as theirs. Whether that was because it was at risk or because it
was now the source of their future (hopefully temporary) poverty,
the vineyard now appeared to her as something joint, something
integral to their marriage and their lives here in France.

Now when she looked at the
sun setting on the vineyard—the splashes of violet and red seeping
down into the fields of grapes—she felt like she was looking
at
her
inheritance
too.

“
Go
fish
,
Tante
Maggie!” Zouzou said next to
her, her chubby little fists gripping a handful of cards—most of
which were upside down and face cards showing outward.

Maggie shifted Jemmy in her good arm, the
feeling of him solid and comforting against her, and pulled a card
from the deck on the coffee table.

“
Got any
trois
?” she said to the
little girl.

“
Which one are them?”
Zouzou asked, frowning.

Haley leaned over the back of the couch and
plucked a card out of Zouzou’s hand. “They look like this,
sweetie,” she said.

Zouzou squealed happily and flung the card
at Maggie.

“
Having fun, Maggie?” Haley
asked, then laughed.

Maggie was glad Haley was
in a better mood. Her affect had noticeably lifted when Ben came
back with Laurent and, since she was smiling, Maggie had to assume
Ben had
not
filled
her in on the details of why he and Laurent were driving to Nice.
But whatever explanation Ben
had
given seemed to satisfy her. It wasn’t Maggie’s
place to tell her what was going on.

It would all come out sooner or later.

Maggie worked to push the
thought of her brother—and what he had done—away. She wanted to
enjoy her baby tonight, and the feeling of being clean and
unafraid, warm and secure. A flickering thought of Olivier came to
her and she chased it away, too. He was being dealt with and
whatever she had thought about him—
and how
wrong she had been about him—
was history
now. Except for the conversation she still needed to have with
Annie about him. But there was time enough for all that.

Tonight was for her and for Jemmy.

“
You know,” Maggie said,
“it occurs to me that just because I don’t enjoy endless hours of
watching
Sponge Head Square Pox
with little people who can’t yet tie their shoes,
it doesn’t mean I don’t adore these little creatures.”

Haley sat down on the couch. “We’re all
different, Maggie. Some of us are cut out to teach pre-K and some
of us definitely not.” She leaned over Zouzou’s shoulder and
pointed to a card in the child’s hand. “Ask Aunt Maggie if she has
any of those. Do you know what that is?”

Zouzou frowned and looked up at Haley,
looking for the answer.

“
Come on, Zouzou,” Haley
said. “You know it.”

“
Um…a two?”

“
Yes! Well done!
Yes
, it’s a
two.”

Zouzou beamed at Haley while Maggie cheered
and made Jemmy’s little fist pump. “Good job, Zouzou,” she said.
“Mummy will be so impressed when she gets home. Speaking of which…”
She looked at Haley. “Where exactly did Grace go today? And
shouldn’t she be back by now? It’s after six.”

“
I’m pretty sure she’s not
coming home tonight,” Haley said.

Maggie looked at her in surprise. “Why not?
Where is she?” Maggie had tried calling Grace a couple of times but
the calls went straight to voicemail.

“
She’ll be back in the
morning.”

“
Where is she?”

Haley sighed and lifted a curl off Zouzou’s
forehead. “Honestly, I’m not sure I’m at liberty to say. She told
me in confidence.”

“
Are you kidding me? Grace
is my best friend.”

“
Well, if that’s so,
wouldn’t you know where she is tonight? I’m sorry, Maggie. I hope
that didn’t come out too harsh.”

Maggie stared at her. Haley looked
apologetically at her over Zouzou’s blonde head.

Was Grace mad at her? Had something
happened? All of a sudden, Maggie remembered a phone
conversation—or two—where Grace said she needed to talk to Maggie
about something. Maggie also remembered the evening she’d
deliberately sent an incoming call from Grace to voicemail because
she’d been too tired to talk.

She cleared her throat. “She asked you not
to tell me?”

“
Not in so many words, no,”
Haley said. “But she didn’t say I could and it’s definitely a
secret. Come on, Zouzou, let’s wash our hands for supper, okay?
Aunt Haley made cornbread just for you.”

Jemmy’s eyes began to close long before his
supper was finished and Maggie watched Haley pick him up and detach
him from his bib. “This little guy’s done for the day,” Haley said.
“Aren’t you, angel?”

Maggie felt a stab of envy that Haley was
able to handle her son so easily. She felt like ripping off her
sling and grabbing him from her but the steady throb in her wrist
reminded her not to.

“
You look pretty beat, too,
Maggie,” Haley said. “Let me give the little ones their baths. Why
don’t you go on to bed?”

“
I’ll wait for Laurent,”
Maggie said.

Haley hesitated and gave her a strange look.
“He may be awhile.”

Does that mean Ben told her the truth after
all? Impossible. She doesn’t act upset. But why does she think
Laurent will be late?

“
In any case,” Haley said,
standing at the foot of the stairs with the children, “at least lie
down on the couch. You look dead on your feet.”

Maggie had to admit she was exhausted. As
much as she wanted to put Jemmy to bed, she reminded herself that
she had several years of bedtimes ahead of her to do that. The
short nap she’d taken before Laurent and Ben came in from Aix had
done little to touch the bone-deep exhaustion and mental anguish of
her night at the abbey. For at least this one night, she probably
needed to take care of herself.

“
I think I will, Haley,”
she said, walking to the stairs and kissing Jem on the cheek. “I
owe you forever for all the help you’ve been.”

A thought came to Maggie that Haley was
going to be all on her own soon, although of course the family
would help her as much as they could. Ben would surely go to
prison. Perhaps that would be the best thing for Haley—to start
over without someone abusing her on a daily basis.

Maggie went to the couch, turned off the
lamp and pulled the afghan over her, the sounds of Jem’s cooing and
Zouzou’s singsong voice drifting in and out of her
consciousness.

Maggie had never slept more deeply. Her
dreams were fretful and dark, and when she awoke she didn’t feel
refreshed. She felt on guard. She pushed herself up to a sitting
position on the couch, moaning because she’d been sleeping on her
wrist. She heard Haley in the kitchen, humming and moving pans on
and off the stove.

Maggie’s mouth was dry. The ER physician had
told her to drink plenty of water, but somehow in all the
excitement of the homecoming and talking to Ben…

Ben.
A feeling of unease settled on her shoulders. She rubbed her
face with her good hand. What will her poor parents say? This was
going to absolutely kill them.

“
You awake, Maggie?” Haley
called from the kitchen. “I heated up the beef dish Laurent made.
Why don’t you guys have a microwave? How can you live without
it?”

Maggie licked her lips and stood. She eased
the stiffness out of her back and realized it was a souvenir of the
night before, when she had slept on broken bricks and boards. She
was covered with bruises and scratches. When she’d taken her shower
earlier she’d removed the bandage from the cut on her calf and
forgotten to put on another one. She limped to the kitchen,
blinking against the bright overhead light.