Katherine Page - Body in the Bog

Faith had her information, but she stayed for a half hour longer talking to the old lady. As she left, she promised to come back and knew she would.

Away from Bridey Murphy, Faith considered this new information. Lora Deane was living a double life.

Mild-mannered nursery school teacher by week, hip single on the weekends. But why was the deception necessary? What else was going on? And maintaining two places ran into money. Was this the real reason Lora didn’t want to loan Joey Madsen funds for Alefordiana Estates?

Faith drove past the bowling alley on Route 2 and accelerated as she went up the hill before the Aleford exit. She’d never thought of Miss Lora as a mystery woman. But what did they really know about her—or any of the rest of the family? Faith decided it was time to pay a call on Gus, the paterfamilias. She knew him from the Aleford Minutemen activities and they’d always maintained a light, joking relationship. Gus was a bit of a flirt, but not obnoxious. He never crossed the line from art form to lech. It was a skill she admired—and enjoyed. She tried to think of some pretext. No parish calls, and ringing his doorbell for POW! was definitely out. Besides being in the Minutemen, Gus was president of the Aleford Chamber of Commerce.

As soon as she’d started Have Faith again, she’d joined. The Chamber sponsored a large cookout on the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend. All the local merchants had special sales and the event drew a big crowd. She felt a sudden pressing need to talk to Gus about the plans and what Have Faith might supply.

Ben was spending the afternoon with a friend and Faith was able to get Mrs. Hart to come over while Amy napped. The way things were going, the woman might never get to see what the child looked like awake. She almost called Pix, but she didn’t want to let her know where she was going. Pix might have a lot on her mind, but she’d still remembered that Faith hadn’t told her why she was asking questions about Brad Hallowell earlier.

Faith had completely forgotten her promise to tell Pix everything when she could and was a little embarrassed to reveal it had involved the phone calls Lora Deane had been getting, which were by then common knowledge in town.

“And you suspected Brad?”

“Well, an ex-boyfriend, angry, hurt.”

“And that was what you couldn’t tell me?” Pix said, looking Faith straight in the eye. No wonder the Millers had such honest children.

Gus and Lillian Deane lived in a large brick house at the end of a winding drive near the Aleford/Byford border. It was imposing—a three-car garage, swim-ming pool for the grandchildren and now the great-grandchildren. The shrubs were trimmed into round balls; those lining either side of the front walk were squat muffin shapes. There wasn’t a fallen twig or leaf on the smooth green lawn. Every window was shielded from the sun’s rays by an awning with an elaborate D in script square in the middle. She’d decided not to call first, just take the chance he would be in. She didn’t want him to have time to think why else she might be paying him a visit. Supposedly, he was retired from active work and didn’t spend much time on the job sites anymore.

Faith rang the bell and heard chimes.

She was in luck. Gus opened the door himself.

“Now, this is a nice surprise to find on my doorstep.

Come on in, Faith.”

“I had a few moments free, so I thought this might be a good time to talk about the plans for the Memorial Day cookout. It’s not that far away.” Gus nodded. “Only six weeks.”

She couldn’t tell whether he was onto her or not.

There had been an underlying note of amusement in his voice.

“Terrible weather this spring,” he continued. “Hope it’s better for our cookout. But then a lot can happen in six weeks.”

He led the way to the rear of the house. Lillian didn’t seem to be home; otherwise, she’d have been there offering Faith something to eat or drink. Gus might maintain a higher profile in town, but the house was his wife’s domain.

“Lillian’s over at Bonnie’s. Can’t keep away from the baby. Let’s sit in here and you can tell me what’s on your mind.” He opened the door to what was obviously his den. There was a large-screen TV at one end with appropriately comfortable seating. French doors led to a broad patio that ran the full length of the rear of the house. A desk with computer and printer indicated that the room was not purely recreational. He motioned to two chairs overlooking the garden and Faith sat down. A curio cabinet held a collection of beer steins. Some of them looked quite old. He noticed her glance.

“I started buying these when I was a young man.

Can’t pretend they came down in my family. Nothing came down, except maybe an attitude. I don’t want to say it’s special to the Deanes, but it’s a way of life.

You work hard, don’t let yourself be pushed around, and leave the key under the mat for those coming next.”

He knew damn well she hadn’t come about how much potato salad they were going to need.

She sat quietly and let him go on.

“When I was growing up in this town, the same few people ran everything, always the same names. The board of selectmen—and it was only men—school committee, the library, the churches. If their families had missed the Mayflower , it was because they had something better to do. Times have changed.”

“Thank goodness.” Faith found something to say.

Gus nodded. “Wish I hadn’t let Lillian talk me out of smoking. Feel like a pipe now. Anyway, where was I? Yes, it’s changed.” He leaned forward. “But not completely. Not completely, Faith.

“So far as some of those people—or I should say the sons and daughters of those people—are concerned, the Deanes will always be upstarts. We make more money than most of them do now and there’s resentment about that. We were their ancestors’ servants and we didn’t stay in our place.”

“But do you really think this is still true?”

“Absolutely. Now, you take this business with the bog. I don’t mind telling you I’m more than a little annoyed with Joey for stirring the whole thing up in the first place. But not because I don’t like to stir things up.”

Faith ventured a smile.

“Okay, maybe I even like to stir things up, but I was angry with him because he didn’t think it through. It’s a bad investment. He has to put out too much of his own money before he sees any return and he’ll be lucky to break even, what with all the stipulations the town is going to slap him with about the roads, septic systems, what not. Meanwhile, the whole Deane family looks bad. Even people who have never been to the place are suddenly talking about the Deanes robbing Aleford of precious open space. No, I’m not happy with Joey.”

Faith felt a sudden twinge of sympathy for Mr.Madsen. Gus was not a man you wanted to antagonize.

“Could have done better. Told her so at the time, but she’s just like her father, just like me. Wouldn’t listen, and you’ll never hear a word of complaint from her, either. I don’t know if she loves or hates the man at this point.”

He didn’t say her name, but Gus was obviously referring to Bonnie.

“Alefordiana Estates—what the hell kind of a name is that? Thinks we’re in Florida or something,” Gus growled.

“Well, of course I’m not happy about it,” Faith said.

“Going to have a road at your back door. I’ll say you’re not happy about it, but here’s my point, Faith.” He leaned over again and this time raised his forefin-ger. “I may not agree that Joey’s doing the brightest deal, I may not even like the man that much myself, but I’ll defend him to my death against anyone who says he doesn’t have the right to build what he wants on his own land so long as it’s not against the law.