“It will be midnight soon. The lasagne will only take about ten minutes, maybe fifteen, unless Dr. Mant’s oven works like everything else does around here. Then it could take until this time next year. I’ve never understood why people cook lasagne for hours. And then they wonder why everything is leathery.”
Lucy was staring at me, resting a paring knife on a side of the salad bowl. She had cut enough celery and carrots for a marching band.
“One day I will really make lasagne coi carciofi for you.
It has artichokes, only you use bechamel sauce instead of marinara-”
“Aunt Kay,” she impatiently cut me off. “I hate it when you do this. And I’m not going to let you do this. I don’t you give a shit about lasagne right now. What matters is that this morning you got a weird phone call. Then there was a bizarre death and people treated you suspiciously at the scene. Now tonight you had a prowler who might have been in a damn wet suit.”
“It’s not likely the person will be back. Whoever it was.
Not unless he wants to take on the three of us.”
“Aunt Kay, you can’t stay here,” she said.
“I have to cover Dr. Mant’s district, and I can’t do that from Richmond,” I told her as I again looked out the window over the sink. “Where’s Marino? Is he still out taking pictures?”
“He came in a while ago.” Her frustration was as palpable as a storm about to start.
I walked into the living room and found him asleep on the couch, the fire blazing. My eyes wandered to the window where Lucy had looked out, and I went to it. Beyond cold glass the snowy yard glowed faintly like a pale moon, and was pockmarked by elliptical shadows left by our feet.
The brick wall was dark, and I could not see beyond it, where coarse sand tumbled into the sea.
“Lucy’s right,” Marino’s sleepy voice said to my back.
I turned around. “I thought you were down for the count.”
“I hear and see everything, even when I’m down for the count,” he said. I could not help but smile.
“Get the hell out of here. That’s my vote.” He worked his way up to a sitting position.
“No way I’d stay in this crate out in the middle of nowhere. Something happens, ain’t no one going to hear you scream.” His eyes fixed on me. “By the time anyone finds you, you’ll be freeze-dried.
If a hurricane don’t blow you out to sea, first,”
“Enough,” I said.
He retrieved his gun from the coffee table, got up and tucked it in the back of his pants. “You could get one of your other doctors to come out here and cover Tidewater
“I’m the only one without family. It’s easier for me to move, especially this time of year.”
“What a lot of bullshit. You don’t have to apologize for being divorced and not having kids.”
“I am not apologizing.”
“And it’s not like you’re asking someone to relocate for six months. Besides, you’re the friggin’ chief. You should make other people relocate, family or not. You should be in your own house.”
“I actually hadn’t thought coming here would be all that unpleasant,” I said. “Some people pay a lot of money to stay in cottages on the ocean.”
He stretched. “You got anything American to drink around here?”
“Milk.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of Miller.”
“I want to know why you’re calling Benton. I personally think it’s too soon for the Bureau to be involved.”
“And I personally don’t think you’re in a position to be objective about him.”
“Don’t goad me,” I warned. “It’s too late and I’m too tired.”
“I’m just being straight with you.” He knocked a Marlboro out of the pack and tucked it between his lips. “And he will come to Richmond. I got no doubt about that. He and the wife didn’t go nowhere for the holidays, so my guess is he’s ready for a little field trip right about now.
And this is going to be a good one.”