Page 6

I wake at six-thirty the next morning, as I usually do. I like to begin my days with a cup of coffee and sometimes toast with jam. I adore children, but I am not young anymore, and even older children require a great deal of energy to care for.

Usually, I am the first one up, though, in a fully staffed house like this one, it's not uncommon for the cook to be awake as well. I don't mind company. Servants generally get along well with me, and they often know all of the skeletons hiding in their employers' closets. I am firm in my commitment to stay out of this family's drama, but that doesn't mean I won't pick the low-hanging fruit. I am, after all, a slave to my nature, just like the venerable Miss Marple.

The fruit this morning isn’t low-hanging, and I don’t pick it so much as it’s flung in my face. I nearly collide with Victoria downstairs, and after we both recover from the shock, I notice that the entire family is downstairs with her. The children are holding hands, their knuckles white and their eyes huge. Julian is red-faced and furious, and Victoria looks like she’s just witnessed a murder.

That thought, of course, sends a chill down my spine. I’ve known many people who’ve actually witnessed a murder, and I’ve seen a few murder victims myself. “What is it?” I ask. “What happened?”

“Did you see anything last night, Mary? Anything at all?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Luann flinch, but I remember my promise. There’s no way on Earth that Victoria could be sent into such a state over her granddaughter’s crush. “No, ma’am, nothing at all. I stepped out of my room for a breath of fresh air on my balcony, but I didn’t see anything.”

“You didn’t see anyone walking around the vineyard?” Julian asked.

I blink. Is this a test? Is he trying to see if I overheard his conversation? But no, that wouldn’t have anything to do with the rest of the family. “No. I’m sorry, will someone please explain what’s going on?”

“My Chardonnay vines were destroyed,” Victoria laments. “Not all of them, thank god, but I’ve lost nineteen bushels, at least.”

She crosses her arms and shakes her head. Her lips are trembling, and now her eyes show the same rage Julian’s do. “I can’t believe this. How does someone get over our fence without tripping our alarm and then proceed to destroy a quarter-acre of vines?”

“Well, if we’d installed cameras like I asked you to do, we’d know, wouldn’t we?”

“It’s Robert,” Julian says curtly. “I swear to God, it’s him. I’ll bet you anything he hired the asshole who set fire to the winery too.”

Victoria rolls her eyes. “It’s not Robert, Julian.”

“Well, who the hell else would it be? You think some teenager hopped the fence and chopped down our vines for fun?”

I glance briefly at Luann, but she doesn’t react to that. In any case, it would be pretty foolish for a boy to damage a vineyard belonging to the grandmother of the girl he fancies.

“No, I don’t think that,” Victoria says in a tone she might use talking to a willful child, “but I don’t believe it’s Robert either.”

Julian lifts his head to the ceiling. “For God’s sake, Mom. Why are you so blind when it comes to Robert? Are you in love with him or something?”

Victoria reacts viciously to that. She spins around and shrieks, “Julian Bellamy, shut the fuck up! Robert Cartwright is not stupid enough to destroy our property over some petty rivalry that doesn’t mean shit in the real world. Are you stupid enough to go cut down his vines? Do you hate him enough to set fire to his winery? Hmm?”

Julian blinks, chastised into contriteness by his mother’s outburst. He lowers his eyes and says softly, “No. I’m sorry. I’m just mad.”

Victoria takes a deep breath and rubs her temples. “I know. I’m mad too. But we need to think about this, not just point fingers at the nearest asshole we despise.” She looks at me. “Mary, I’m very sorry to start your morning like this. Will you take the children, please? Somewhere out of the house. I don’t care where as long as you have them back before dark.”

"I think that's an excellent idea, ma'am. Children, let's go upstairs and dress. We can go to the beach, or we can enjoy a picnic breakfast. Or perhaps we can go to the movies if you prefer."

Nathan’s eyes widen. “Can we see—” He stops himself and looks sideways at his dad. “The movies. Let’s go to the movies. Is that okay, Luann?”

Luann nods distractedly. I get the sense she’s more disturbed by what happened last night than Nathan is. Or perhaps more guilty?

“Fine with me,” Julian says. “Go see whatever you want, but if it’s some scary movie that gives you nightmares, don’t come crying to me about it.”

Nathan rolls his eyes. “Dad, I’m sixteen. I don’t get nightmares anymore.”

“Yeah? Good for you. I’m forty-three, and I have nightmares every day.”

Julian is venting his frustration and means no harm by what he says, but he forgets how much of an impact a father’s words have on his children. The twins both pale and look at each other with naked fear.

“Come, children,” I say firmly. “The adults have business to tend to.”

When we are upstairs and out of earshot of the adults, I tell them, “Don’t take their words too seriously right now. They’re both angry and afraid, and when people are angry and afraid, they behave differently than when they are composed.”

“Well, they’ve been angry and afraid a lot lately,” Nathan retorts. “It feels pretty normal by now.”

He walks into his room and slams the door without waiting for my reply. Luann shakes her head and mutters, “What a lovely morning.”

She heads to her room, but I grab her arm and stop her. She flinches a little but doesn’t pull away. Her face reddens, and she lowers her eyes, not a good sign for her considering the question I’m about to ask.

I don’t want to scare her into shutting down. I can’t entirely avoid the risk, and in fact, it’s not likely she’ll be honest with me. But I have to ask, and if her skill at lying is as poor as it seems to be, then I might be able to discern the truth anyway.

“Luann, you have my word that nothing you tell me now will reach anyone’s ears but mine, no matter how horrible it is. But I need to know for your own safety: could this boy you’ve been meeting have anything to do with the sabotage on your grandmother’s vineyard last night?”

She looks at me in shock, but there’s no guilt in this shock. She’s just surprised. “What? No! There’s no way he’d be that stupid.”

“Forgive me for being blunt, but young men are always stupid when it comes to the young women with whom they’re infatuated.”

“Okay, but why would he destroy my grandmother’s vines? Like, how would that make me like him more?”

“Perhaps he’s upset that your father wouldn’t approve of your relationship.”

Her eyes shift to the left. I can tell I’m onto something here. “Your father wouldn’t approve of your relationship, would he?”

“He wouldn’t approve of me dating anyone. You know how fathers are.”

She’s deflecting. I press further. “Yes, but he wouldn’t approve of this young man specifically, would he?”

Her eyes shift again, this time to the floor. She’s about to tell me the truth and now feels guilt instead of fear. “No, he wouldn’t.”

“As I said, plenty of young men behave foolishly in such situations. I’m sure you don’t think that the young man you fancy is violent or dangerous, but has he ever expressed frustration or irritation at the fact that the two of you have to sneak around instead of being open with your relationship?”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh my God.” In an exaggerated singsong voice, she says, “No, he just loves it! We’re so glad that our families hate each other and we have to hike to a… somewhere else to spend time together. It’s the best !”

I frown. “Your families hate each other?”

She blanches, aware of her mistake. “I mean… They would hate each other… I mean, Dad would hate it if we were dating.”

The pieces are falling into place. Julian’s angry phone call the night before. His argument with Victoria this morning. Luann’s late-night excursions and her fear of her father learning of the boy she likes.

“He’s Robert Cartwright’s grandson, isn’t he?”

Luann flinches and looks quickly left and right. Then she grabs my arm and pulls me into her room. Once the door is shut behind us, she grips two fistfuls of her hair and groans, “Ugh! Why can’t people just leave me alone?”

“When it comes to your safety, Luann, I can’t leave you alone.”

“I can handle myself!”

I give her a frank look. “If I had a dollar for every teenager who said—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” She sighs. “Ugh! It’s just not fair!”

“Many things in life aren’t fair. Including the destruction of nineteen bushels of your grandmother’s—”

“I know, I get it!”

I frown and say sternly, “Do not interrupt me, young lady.”

She blinks, stunned into silence. I’m not sure what her experience is with her previous tutor, but she clearly isn’t ready for me to discipline her like that.

“I need to make sure that you’re not acting in a way that’s going to endanger you and your family. I know you’d rather not tell me about your activities with your beau, but I have to make sure that you’re not in danger. If you are honest with me, I can possibly do that without getting your father involved. If not, then I’m sorry, but your safety matters more than your privacy.”

Her lower lip trembles a little. She frowns and crosses her arms, looking past me at the wall. “It’s Kevin Cartwright. And he’s Robert’s son, not his grandson. And he’s the sweetest boy on Earth, and he wouldn’t do anything like this. He doesn’t even care about the vineyards or whatever rivalry bullshit is going on. He just wants to be with me.”

I resist the urge to correct her language. What she’s just revealed to me is more serious. I am willing to give her the benefit of the doubt for the moment that Kevin isn’t responsible for the attack on the vineyard last night, but I must investigate further if I’m to know for sure. Even if Kevin isn’t the one responsible, it’s still possible that their relationship precipitated an escalation to the feud. Even if they’re both completely innocent, they could get caught in the crossfire if things between Julian Bellamy and Robert Cartwright have risen to violence.

So instead, I say, “Very well. I believe you. But there is someone out there sabotaging your grandmother’s vineyard. You returned home mere hours from his arrival, perhaps even minutes. Until we know what’s happening, there will be no more late-night excursions. If I catch you sneaking out again, I will tell your father.”

Her lips tremble some more, and tears come to her eyes. “Get out of my room.”

“I will,” I reply, heading for the door, “but I mean what I’ve said. Your safety comes first.”

“Too bad my happiness doesn’t count for shit.”

Before I can scold her further, she opens the door, pushes me out and slams it shut behind me. I find myself in the hallway staring at a stunned and very confused Nathan.

“She needs privacy,” I tell him. “So she can get ready.”

He gives me a slow, wary nod, and neither of us speaks further about it.