A Gala Event (14 page)

“A new bathroom,” Meg said triumphantly.

Meg's mother was silent for several beats. “How very thoughtful of him. And both personal and practical.”

“Yes, it is. I think it's sweet. How's Daddy?”

“He's fine. His knees have been bothering him, with this cold weather, so he hasn't been playing as much golf as he'd like.” She hesitated before saying softly, “Are you happy, Meg?”

Meg replied honestly, “Yes, Mother, I am.”
And thank you for asking.
“Let me know what you decide about where to stay.”

“I will do that. We'll talk soon! Bye, love.”

There, one duty done. As if planned, Meg's cell phone rang as soon as she'd hung up the landline. “Hi, Gail.”

“Got 'em!” Gail crowed. “Can you and Seth bring Aaron by, say, seven thirty? To the Historical Society building? I want to show off our new heating system—the place should actually be warm.”

“I'll call Seth now. See you later!”

As soon as she had ended the call to Gail, she hit Seth's speed dial number. He, too, picked up quickly. “What's up?”

“Gail's found the files! She wants us to bring Aaron to the Historical Society after dinner, for the great unveiling. Can you stop by the Gardners' and tell him, or would you rather I went over?”

“I think I can manage that, maybe around four thirty. I was going to swing by my house and see what clothes I've got that might fit Aaron. Or maybe I should ask Mom—she's probably got loads stashed in the attic. Either way, I'll collect Aaron and bring him over for supper, if that's okay with you.”

“No problem; the afternoon is clear. See you later!”

Meg hung up again, feeling very pleased with herself.

Since she was freed from orchard activities for the rest of the day, and it seemed kind of early to start cooking dinner, Meg decided to do a quick Internet search on the Eastman fire in Granford. It never ceased to amaze her how much older material kept cropping up online, and she wasn't disappointed. Archived newspaper reports from the time informed her that early in October 1990 the Eastman blaze had gone to three alarms. When the first fire truck had arrived, the house was already fully engaged, and there was no chance to enter the house and search for anyone. Putting out the fire was further complicated because there were no hydrants in the neighborhood—the house was set well back from the street in a rural part of town. Tanker trucks would have been useless against a blaze of that size. The best the firefighters could do was try to keep the fire contained and away from the surrounding woods. Apparently a few other people had shown up, but all they could do was huddle together at a
safe distance, watching the house disintegrate, before describing the fire to the newspaper writers.

The only mention of Aaron at first was that the Eastmans' youngest son had been at home but was found outside the house in what appeared to be a state of shock. His two older siblings were both attending school outside of Granford and were not affected. Although it could not be confirmed until after the fire was fully extinguished, it was presumed that Aaron's parents and his grandmother had perished in the blaze.

Having read three versions of that account in three different newspapers, Meg sat back and reviewed. Basically she hadn't learned anything new, except for the absence of hydrants, something she hadn't thought about. Everything matched what Aaron had told her. She debated briefly about reading the follow-up stories from the first few days after the fire, which would segue into Aaron's trial and conviction, and decided against it. She didn't want to hear the story from third parties: she wanted to hear what Aaron had to say, in the present. She didn't want to prejudice herself, either pro or con. Aaron was being fair. He admitted his memories of the event, then and now, were missing. He just wanted to know the truth, to know what he was really capable of, so that he could get on with his life.

If there was no new evidence, or if anything they unearthed pointed even more strongly toward Aaron's guilt, would Aaron be able to live with himself? Knowing what he had done? He had so little to look forward to from life. Maybe he would see suicide as a viable option.

Not if she could help it. But she'd already saved him once. Was she supposed to save him again?

Shutting down the computer, Meg set about making an elaborate casserole, mainly to distract herself from her troubling thoughts. Bree came in, took one look at her activities,
and said, “Looks good—I'll leave you to it,” before disappearing up to her room. Meg was just pulling the casserole out of the oven to cool when Seth and Aaron arrived, and Meg was surprised to see that it was nearly six o'clock. “Hi, guys,” she said. “Let this cool off a bit and we can sit down and eat. Bree?” she called up the stairs.

“What?” Bree shouted in return.

“Dinner in five,” Meg replied.

“On my way,” was Bree's answer.

After ten minutes, they were seated around the kitchen table with heaped plates in front of them, and Max and Lolly had been fed. Aaron was wearing clean clothes, and looked like he was trying to bottle up his anticipation. This small piece of the family puzzle meant a lot to him, and Meg hoped he wouldn't be disappointed. “How'd it go with the alpacas?” Meg asked him.

Aaron smiled, which made him look younger. “They are so funny. Really curious, you know? Every time I wanted to do something along the fence, a bunch of them would follow me, watching. I swear they were talking about me.”

“How much work is involved?”

“Some parts are going to have to be completely replaced. Others I can repair, at least for now. I don't know what those people were thinking when they bought that particular site—most of it's on a steep slope. I gather they're from a city. And why they chose alpacas doesn't make sense to me, either.”

“Hey,” Bree responded, “alpacas are hot these days. I took a class in animal husbandry at school, and if you can find an outlet for the fur, they make economic sense.”

“I didn't know that,” Aaron said. “Thank you.”

“Anything more from Gail?” Seth asked. Aaron's eyes flickered toward Meg's face.

“What's going on with Gail?” Bree demanded.

“She found the family papers that the Eastmans donated to the Historical Society, back before the fire, and we're going over there after supper to take a look at them.”

Bree cast a dubious glance at Aaron but didn't say anything.

“Hey, I talked to my mother today,” Meg announced in a cheery tone. “Seth, I told her about Lydia's invitation.”

“What did she say?”

“She said she'd talk to Daddy.”

“And how do you read that?” Seth asked.

“It'll probably be no. I told her Lydia wouldn't be offended. Are you insulted on her behalf?”

“No. I'm not surprised, is all.”

“So you two are getting married?” Aaron said. “How long have you known each other?”

“I moved to Granford two years ago January.” Meg debated briefly with herself before adding, “And was accused of murder almost immediately. I'm not sure Seth believed I didn't do it, at first, so I had to figure out who did. As you can see, it all worked out.”

Aaron smiled at his plate. “That's sure one heck of a romantic story.”

“It is, isn't it?” Meg said complacently. “And did he tell you he's giving me a new bathroom as a wedding present? We don't seem to do anything the traditional way.”

They wrapped up dinner quickly, conscious of the coming meeting. Bree asked, “You want me to clean up so you can head into town?”

“That would be great, thanks,” Meg said. “You guys ready to go?”

“I guess,” Seth said. Aaron just nodded. “I'll drive,” Seth added.

It took them all of five minutes to reach the Historical
Society on the green. The lights were on inside, their golden glow spilling out into the night, and Meg could understand why Aaron would have been drawn to the building, even if he hadn't had an agenda. After Seth parked and they climbed out of the car, Meg sneaked a glance at Aaron's face. He looked somber—and frightened? He had spent years pinning his hopes on this one meeting, and Meg hoped he wouldn't be too upset if it didn't produce the results he hoped for.

Gail opened the door before they reached the granite stoop. “Please, come in.” Aaron hung back, as if unsure of his welcome, and Gail added, “You, too, Aaron. We're even now, right?”

“Thank you, Gail.” Aaron followed the others into the building.

After she'd shut the door, Gail turned to face them. “I set things up in the basement. Ooh, that's an ugly name for a great space. Seth, help me out here—what should I call it?”

“The archive? The library?”

“‘Library' will do, I guess. Or maybe we should have a naming contest among our members. Anyway, there's a nice large table there, and the light is good. And it's warm, as promised. Follow me.”

Dutifully they trooped through a door at the rear and down some new stairs to the lower level. Meg inhaled: the place still smelled of fresh paint, now combined with the musty smell of old paper. As Gail had told them, there was a table about eight feet long, which currently had two chairs on each side. A dozen or so bankers' boxes occupied one end of the table. “You found all of them?” Aaron asked.

“All that I know about. You think something is missing?”

“No, no,” he hurried to reassure her. “Look, you can tell those three on one end are different—not the same kind of
boxes. Those have got to be the last ones Gramma sent over. Have you looked in them, Gail?”

“No, Aaron, I thought you should have the first look. You want to start with those three?”

“Okay. Uh, they're still taped shut.”

“Let me get some scissors,” Gail said. While she ran upstairs, nobody spoke. Meg noticed that the three nonmatching boxes were the only ones that were taped shut. Why?

Gail was back in thirty seconds, and handed the scissors to Aaron. “You can do the honors.”

Aaron stood up and pulled one of the boxes closer to him, then ran one blade of the scissors around the lid, cutting the tape. Meg found she was holding her breath. What would emerge? Dust? A large rat? A million dollars in bearer bonds? Aaron wiggled the lid off, then stood staring at the contents. “I don't understand,” he said to no one in particular.

“What's in there, Aaron?” Meg asked.

He glanced at Gail, who nodded her encouragement, and then he reached in and pulled out what looked like a bundle of financial ledgers. Not antique, not even close. Aaron extracted three ledgers, followed by a stack of manila folders. “I don't know what these are.”

He reached for the second box and opened that. This time he pulled out a bundle of green-and-white-striped paper, which Meg recognized as outdated computer paper. The third box contained more folders, and Meg spied what she thought read “Insurance” on at least one of them.

When Aaron had opened all of them, and sorted through the piles—with surprising patience—he sat down and shook his head.

“Not what you expected, Aaron?” Gail asked.

“I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this. These look like business records.”

“For what business?” Meg asked.

Aaron pulled one of the ledgers toward him. “Eastman Investments.”

“Your father's company?”

“No, or at least I don't think so. He worked for a big Wall Street firm, in their Boston office. He traveled a lot on business. Why would my grandmother even have these? And why did she think they were important?”

“What're the dates on them?” Seth asked.

Aaron leafed through a couple of volumes. “Late 1980s, up to the first part of 1990. So they were pretty much current when Gramma handed them to me.”

“Do you think your grandmother was, well, of sound mind when she gave these to you?” Meg asked.

“I always thought so.”

“Well, if she was, then she must have had a good reason to think these were worth saving,” Meg said. “And worth getting out of the house, out of harm's way.”

“May I suggest something?” Gail asked suddenly. When everyone nodded silently, she said, “Why don't we set those aside for now and see what's in the other boxes? If it's more of the same, that will tell us something. If it's not, then something else. Agreed?”

“That makes sense,” Seth said. “Let's put the stuff back in the first boxes first, so we don't get things mixed up.”

The transfers were accomplished quickly, and they did a cursory check of the other boxes. All turned out to contain historic papers relating to the Eastman family, collateral families, and Granford history. When they had finished the first pass, Gail said, “Under normal circumstances, I would be thrilled to see this collection, and I promise we'll take good care of it. But it doesn't begin to explain the contents
of those other boxes. What the heck is going on? Or should I say, was going on twenty-five years ago?”

“I wish I knew,” Aaron said. “That was my father's stuff. There's no reason for Gramma to have it, much less hide it. You all agree that she didn't want it found, at least right then?”

“Seems likely,” Seth said. “Tell me, what was your grandmother like? Educated? Did she have a job at any point?”

“Sure, until she couldn't work anymore. She was smart and observant. It made her really mad that she couldn't do what she had been able to; she kept cursing her body for giving out on her.” A brief smile passed over Aaron's face. “And she got really bored when she had to stop working. She told me she'd read every book she wanted to, and even reread her favorites. She hated television. I guess that's why she was happy to let me spend time with her—at least I was entertainment.”

Meg was listening with only half an ear, trying to figure out what the odd cache of documents could mean. She didn't like the results she was coming up with. “Aaron, forgive me if I sound tactless, but did either of your parents inherit money?”

“Gramma had enough to get by on. Dad didn't come from a rich family. Maybe the house was worth a lot. Why?”

Meg ignored his question. “You said he worked for a big Wall Street firm—as I remember it from business school, things started to get kind of rocky in the financial world right around then, in the eighties. Did that affect your family's lifestyle, as far as you can remember?”

“Meg, I was so out of it then, they could have brought home a pet elephant and I wouldn't have noticed. As far as I remember, there were no big changes. They bought new cars every year or two, and they were nice cars, if you know what I mean. They took vacations to fancy places. My
brother and sister were still in expensive boarding schools. But I'll admit I could have missed a lot.”