Charlie was sitting down to breakfast when Nora emerged from the basement for the second time that morning. She gave him a curt nod of the head as she shoved her feet into the boots by the side door.
“Where are you off to?” Charlie asked through a mouthful of generously sugared bran cereal.
“I’m visiting Charles,” said Nora. “He might know what’s going on.”
“And we can trust him?”
“No. But so far we can distrust him less than a lot of the others. Richard and Ruby out for their walk?”
“I guess.”
Nora nodded. “I’ll be as fast as I can. Please, please, for the love of god,pleasestay away from them as much as possible. And if Patty or Phil stop by, come find me. Okay?”
Charlie gave one of his infuriating salutes and Nora was out the door.
It was another gloomy day, the sky as thick and milky as the kind of upscale tea latte you’d never find in a place like Virgo Bay.Nora breathed it all in, the salty scent of the sea gently tickling the back of her throat, the long grass brushing her boots, the quiet so complete it almost felt rude when birdsong or lapping waves occasionally interrupted it. This was not the kind of place Nora had ever pictured herself, but now she could see herself learning to love it. The slow pace, the ease…it was growing more and more appealing. She might not even miss her vitamin subscription service in a place like this—she’d have no reason to take them anyway.
Nora crunched across the grass and down the dirt path to what passed as Main Street in this little town. Just as she reached the general store, a familiar figure stepped out. Patty had her coat wrapped around her small frame, a length of freshly purchased rope held tight to her chest. Spotting Nora she immediately dropped her hands, letting the coil fall to her side in a firm grip. Her smile seemed forced, her teeth glinting despite the dimness of the day.
“Good morning,” she greeted, tone pinched. “Where are you going?”
“I’m popping into Charles’s for a quick chat,” said Nora, who saw no reason to lie.
“Oh,” said Patty. “And Charlie’s back in the cottage on his own?”
“No,” said Nora, who suddenly saw many reasons to lie. “He’s out for a walk. Not sure which direction he went.”
Patty nodded. She fidgeted with the rope for a second, then seemed to realize she was drawing attention to it and lowered it again.
Nora swallowed down the nervousness marching up herthroat and forced herself to say, “New rope?” Which she realized was an odd question, if she was being honest with herself, but she was in an odd situation, so she supposed further oddness was to be expected.
“Yeah,” said Patty. The word hung in the air alone for longer than it should have. Then she added, “It’s for Uncle Vic. He needed it for something at the farm.”
“Nice of you to run errands for him,” Nora said.
Patty shrugged. “He’s busier than I am.”
Nora opened her mouth to press her aunt further, but before she could, Patty jumped back in. “Well, I should really get this to Vic. Do me a favor and tell Charles I say…hi.” And with that, she hustled away.
Nora shoved her hands in her pockets and hurried to Charles’s place. Her encounter with Patty nearly made her change her mind and head back to the little red house instead. If Patty figured out Nora had lied, she could easily catch Charlie alone. Hell, even if Ruby and Richard were back by now, who was to say they wouldn’t help their daughter in whatever awful thing she had planned with that rope? But Patty had rushed off in the opposite direction, and Nora needed answers like she needed Valium on plane rides, so she prayed her lie had done the trick, and knocked on Charles’s door.
The door pulled back a moment later and Charles emerged, his sweater-vest of the day a Nordic-patterned navy-and-white work of—if not art, then craft at least. He adjusted his glasses as he took in his guest.
“Oh, morning, Nora. What brings you to my doorstep?”
“Could I come in?”
Charles looked over his shoulder into his immaculately appointed little house. “My place is a bit of a mess right now, I’m afraid.”
Nora’s face fell, which seemed to elicit an almost fight-or-flight response in Charles, who didn’t strike Nora as the type to be particularly comfortable with other people’s emotions. “Oh, no, I, um, yes, sure, why not?” he stammered, stepping aside to let Nora in. She found the space almost as she’d remembered it, though the kitchen was, she had to admit, a bit of a mess. A stack of dishes sat unattended in the sink, a wood cutting board strewn with vegetables in various stages of chopping.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Nora said, taking in the room.
“That’s all right. You’re family, family doesn’t interrupt. I was just making myself an omelet for breakfast. Would you like one?”
Nora could feel the hollow spot in her stomach where a breakfast should be. The smell of recently minced garlic and onion drew a small gurgle of agreement from her gut.
“Let me help,” said Nora. “I just came to ask a few questions. There’s no reason we can’t cook and talk.”
