Charlaine Harris - A Fool and His Honey

“Hello,” I called, and stepped out with only my sweater for warmth. The receiver for the nursery monitor, stuffed down in one of the big pockets, banged as I walked. I was glad I had my boots on. I crossed my arms over my chest as the breathtaking cold dove into my lungs.

“You the new people?” the woman asked. She was round all over and had a very misguided haircut, kind of a poorly done old-fashioned shag. She reeked of cigarette smoke.

“We’re staying here temporarily. We’re the owners,” I said, close enough to the windows to lower my voice. The chug of the engine was loud in the snow-induced hush.

“Just wanted to check. I have a package here for the renter. You want to accept it? You want me to hold it until she comes back?”

It was a box from Victoria’s Secret. Good Lord.

“I’ll keep it for her,” I said reluctantly, and tucked the box under my arm. The mail carrier had thoughtfully put a rubber band around the package to hold the envelopes to it.

“What’s your name?” the carrier bellowed.

“Teagarden, and my husband’s name is Bartell, but I don’t think we’ll be getting any mail here,” I explained. “Do you just leave it in the mailbox out by the road?”

“Yes, normally, but this box wouldn’t fit, and when I saw tracks going in I thought I could be sure someone would be up here,” she said. “Well, nice to meetcha.”

I thanked her, and clutching the package across my chest and shivering, the heavy pocket of my sweater banging against my stomach, I darted back into the house.

“That was Geraldine Clooney,” Margaret said with some amusement. “What did you think?”

“She’s one of a kind,” I said.

Cindy and Dennis laughed. Luke wasn’t in the room. Karl was pouring himself another cup of coffee, and Martin was coming down the stairs. The baby wasn’t in his infant seat. Martin must have put him in his crib.

I wondered why Rory hadn’t come down with his things.

I wondered what Karl and Martin had been talking about in the kitchen.

I wondered at the officiousness of Dennis and Cindy. Telling Rory that we wanted to see him was one thing; bundling him up and practically kidnapping him was another. If Dylan or Karl had brought Rory out, I wouldn’t have wondered, but Cindy and Dennis?

As often happens to me, my mind began drifting along its own path. There’s nothing like being alone in a crowd to spark a really interesting little thought pattern. I wondered how the Corinthians dug graves in the snow. Did the ground actually freeze, like the tundra? Would I get to see a snowplow? Did snowplows clean driveways, too?

“Roe? Roe?”

“Yes?” I gasped.

“I’m sorry,” Margaret said, concern in her voice. “But I was telling you that we were going to be going now. You seemed so out of it.”

“Just daydreaming, I’m afraid,” I said, trying to sound matter-of-fact. “Thank you so much for coming to my rescue this morning.”

“I think I left my purse in the kitchen.”

“Of course, let me go get it.” I scooted into the kitchen. There was a rifle leaning against the wall by the back porch door. I absorbed all of this in one comprehensive glance, snatched up Margaret’s purse from the counter, and handed it to her in the living room within seconds.

“I don’t see Karl’s transportation out there, Aurora,” Margaret said. I looked up at her and shrugged.

“You got me,” I said cheerfully. “Men are strange.”

Amusement crossed the pale face. “Come see me,” she said warmly, and waving good-bye to the others, she and her husband made their way through the rutted snow to their vehicles.

Well, that was two fewer things blocking the view down to the little copse. I was loading the tray with used cups when I heard a strange little rustling sound. The oddest thing about it was that the sound seemed to be issuing from my appendix.

I thought about it as I carried the tray to the kitchen, sliding it carefully onto the counter. I looked down anxiously, I admit, and felt like a total idiot when I realized the sound had been issuing from the nursery monitor. Hayden must be moving around in the crib, I figured.

But… rustling? Karl came in just then, politely bringing an empty Equal packet. He looked around, spied the trash can, and dropped in the bit of paper. Since he was a courteous and orderly person, he tried not to ask me what I was doing staring at a nursery monitor as if it were communicating with me, but since he was also the man who’d been outside toting a rifle, he had to ask. Picking up on my concentration, he simply pointed a finger and raised his eyebrows inquiringly.

“Listen,” I whispered, as if the receiver could also be broadcasting what I said. I held it up to his ear. Karl’s dark face looked puzzled. The rustling had been succeeded by a series of baffling little noises, a little whump!, small rattling sound, the unmistakable tiny noises of a baby fussing in his sleep. Then footsteps, getting a little fainter.

“Eh!” said Hayden, so I knew he was all right. Following the sound of the footsteps, I looked out of the kitchen across the living room to the stairs, down which Rory Brown came, carrying his backpack and a paper bag full of clothes.

“He took something out of Hayden’s room,” I said. I was across the rooms and up the stairs before I knew what I was doing, and passed Rory without so much as looking at him.

Hayden was still asleep, restlessly, and the sheet on his crib mattress had been taken off and then replaced. Since it had been a regular flat bedsheet, much folded to fit the crib mattress, I’d noticed how it’d been tucked before, and I knew that it had been removed and refolded. The receiving blanket I’d covered the sheet with had been placed back on top, but it was wrinkled and crooked. As long as Hayden was all right, I couldn’t see that any harm had been done, but I was mighty puzzled.

When I came slowly down to the living room, I saw that Cindy and Dennis were about to go.

“Rory’s going to stay here for a while,” Martin was saying smilingly. “I’ll get him back into town.”

Cindy looked doubtful. “Are you sure, Martin? It looks like it’s going to let go any minute.” The sky looked heavy with snow, the fields and the sky blending into one big sheet of dirty white. Dennis, his hand holding Cindy’s, was looking over his shoulder at the horizon, and he was clearly anxious to be gone.

“C’mon, Cindy, we’ll see Martin later,” he said. “And thank you, Aurora, for the coffee. You’ll have to tell Cindy how you do it. Her coffee is not her strong point.”

I thought of barfing all over his boots, but decided that was a little extreme. Cindy was red. I met her eyes, and elaborately drew my finger across my throat and made a choking noise. She laughed, a little reluctantly, but laughed. This confused Dennis-of course, it would.

“See you!” Martin called from the kitchen, where he and Rory and Karl were standing in a somewhat strained grouping.

“Good-bye,” I said brightly, ready for them all to be gone. Something was fishy, and the sooner Dennis and Cindy pulled away, the sooner I’d find out what it was.

I went in the kitchen to face what looked like an interrogation. Martin and Karl had taken the paper bag from Rory, and as I entered they dumped it on the table.

I gasped. Besides the usual deodorant and razor, underpants and condoms, the bag contained packages of bills. Just like the one in the baby’s diaper bag, the one I’d discovered in Lawrenceton.

“They were under the sheet on the crib,” I said, into the silence.

“It’s mine,” Rory said sullenly. “As long as you can’t find Regina, it’s mine. She shows up, I share it with her. But we owe some of it to the midwife.”