She nods, follows him with her eyes as he heads toward the black sedan, and then returns her attention to me.
“Ava mentioned she was expecting you,” she says. “We should have called her first, but we were nearby and decided to stop in and see how she and Vic were doing.”
“No problem. And I hope you and I can have that coffee.”
“Yes, I’ll give you a call.”
I wait for their car to pull out of the driveway before ringing the bell. Ava opens the door dressed in flowy beige pants and a short-sleeved peach top. She looks dressed for a perfect summer afternoon, though of course this won’t be one of those.
“Oh dear,” she says, staring briefly at the car backing out of the driveway. “I was afraid you might bump into them. I had no idea they were coming, and thought it would be too obvious if I grabbed my phone to text you a warning.”
“That’s okay,” I tell her and attempt a smile. “It went better than I thought.”
She pulls me into a hug and then leads me down the hall to the dining room, where three places have been set at the end of the antique wooden table. I suspect she’s picked this room for lunch rather than the solarium, which has a clear view of the barn.
“I want to hear everything. But first let me get you a drink. How about an iced tea?”
“Perfect.” As she pours us each a glass from the pitcher on the table, I settle into a chair and survey the food she’s laid out: a bowl of chicken salad, a platter of sliced bright red tomatoes dressed with pesto sauce, a small dish of black Greek olives, and a sliced baguette. Thoughmy appetite has been mostly in hiding this week, the sight of this lovely spread makes me suddenly ravenous.
“By the way, Vic wants us to start without him,” Ava says, taking a seat across from mine. “He’s on a call with his publicist about an event early next week.”
“Totally understood. I’m just so glad to be here, Ava. It feels good to be taken care of.”
“You deserve that, Kiki. I can see in your eyes how much this is troubling you.”
I nod. “It just seems horribly wrong that a person as good as Jamie isn’t in the world anymore.”
She squeezes lemon into her iced tea, her hand cupped over the wedge so it doesn’t splash on me. In the years we worked together, she taught me how to interview and evaluate job candidates, but I also learned a lot about poise and manners by observing her.
“Yes, that’s what Vic and I are struggling with too,” she says, looking as though she’s had her share of sleepless nights. “Jamie was such an interesting and engaging person, and we’re going to miss him terribly. Especially Vic.”
“They were playing a lot of tennis this summer?”
“Yes, and the two of them had gotten into the habit of grabbing lunch at the club afterward. As you know, Jamie was a history buff and to Vic, he was his ideal reader. He loved picking Jamie’s brain.”
So, thanks to Vic, Ava might have more insight than I realized into Jamie’s recent state of mind. I don’t feel ready to raise Sam’s concerns with her, or admit to searching his apartment, but I decide to feel her out a little.
“I can’t help thinking about Jamie’s last days up here. From what you know, was he house hunting in the area, looking for a place of his own?”
She furrows her brow. “Hmm.... I know Jamie was extremelycommitted to the region, in part because of his uncle and grandmother, but I hadn’t heard anything about him wanting to buy something yet. We can ask Vic when he joins us.”
She passes me the bowl of chicken salad and then the tomatoes, and we take a minute to load up our plates.
“These tomatoes are exquisite,” I say. “Are they from your garden?”
“Yes, straight off the vine. I had Vic pick them this morning. I—I just couldn’t bear to do it myself.”
I realize with a sickening sensation that the tomato vines must be out near the barn.
“Are the police done with the property?” I ask gently.
“Yes, they seem to be, thank god.”
That’s good for Ava, but I just pray it doesn’t mean the detectives are finished with their investigation.
We’ve just begun to eat when Vic comes into the room, dressed in jeans and a white collared dress shirt that he’s left untucked. His thick silvery hair is pushed back from his face by a pair of red reading glasses. Though he looks as exhausted as his wife, his body seems propelled by a nervous energy today.
“Kiki,” he says. “Good to see you.”
