She chuckled and pointed at him. “Yes, I remember that. I’ll be sure to get you some while I’m here, Peter.”
He gave her a warm smile. “Let’s see if I can really help you first, then you can reward me.”
“Well, I’m not very hopeful, but…it’s important to Mags. And all I really want is to be her friend again.”
“Oh, Jo Ellen.” Vivien put a hand on the older woman’s narrow shoulder, touched by the admission. “We’re going to help you. We’re going to find out the truth of what happened, I promise.”
As they walked out to join Maggie, Vivien remembered those two forty-something moms laughing, cooking, and spending summers here thirty years ago. She really hoped she could keep that promise and heal this once-lovely friendship.
No surprise to Vivien,Maggie insisted they sit at the outdoor dining table and turn the whole conversation into something formal.
Destin hadn’t yet worked its old magic on Vivien’s mother. She hadn’t relaxed at all in the days since she’d blown in unannounced, uninvited, and ready to boot them all to the curb for the sin of “fraternizing” with the Wylies—apparently breaking a promise she’d made to Vivien’s dad before he died.
“It’s really not like us to bring in outsiders on the subject,” Maggie said to start things off as she put her little Yorkie on the ground and Pittypat scampered inside. “In other words, everything we discuss is private.”
Peter just smiled and slid a look to Vivien. “Considering I spent all seven summers with you right here on this property, Mrs. L, I don’t think I qualify as an outsider. My last name might not be Wylie or Lawson, but I’m a brother to your children and a cousin to yours.” He nodded to Jo Ellen. “Maybe not by blood. You can trust me. I assure you.”
Apparently believing him, Maggie nodded. “Good,” she said simply. “But can you help us?”
“I can try. I know that putting together pieces of the past can be daunting when you’re dealing with the police and ancient, closed cases. As I understand it, you want to know if Artie was the anonymous tipster who launched the investigation into your husband’s crimes.”
“Iknowhe is,” Maggie said.
“We don’t know that for an absolute fact,” Jo Ellen countered. “Artie never went into detail?—”
“Because he was ashamed of what he did!” Maggie spat back.
“He never did anything shameful in his life, and you know it.”
“Do I?” Maggie underscored that with one of her many withering glares. “He stabbed his best friend in the back. Roger told me?—”
Peter held up two hands with the flair of a referee. “Ladies, ladies. Please. Let’s stay focused.”
Amen to that, Vivien thought as she looked at the two women and considered how far they’d come from the old days. This wasn’t going to be a peaceful summer if it took too long to get the answers they wanted. This needed to move and get resolved—fast.
“What we really want to know,” Jo Ellen said softly, “is why both of our husbands made us promise—separately—not to ever speak to each other again. At least, that’s what I want to know.”
Maggie just flicked her brow in silent agreement. They needed to know why—and if they should keep that promise. After all, the men who’d forced them to make it were both gone.
“While I begin to do more research,” Peter said, “you two can do a lot, too.”
“Like what?” Maggie asked.
“How about a conversation with the attorney who helped you put this property in a trust?” he suggested.
“That attorney, John Waverly, died several years ago,” Maggie said flatly. “His son, also an attorney, Justin, took over the work of managing the property and handling any legal issues. He was the one who helped me discover a loophole that said I could give the house to Roger’s children because he died in prison. But Justin has nothing to do with this. He was a kid when all this happened.”
Peter shrugged. “He should have the files from when the house was purchased and Roger was arrested. Something in there could be a clue.”
“That’s a waste of time,” Maggie said.
“Maggie!” Jo Ellen leaned over the table, her frustration visible. “You can’t shoot everything down.”
“I can shootthatdown. Artie didn’t even know we bought the house, so?—”
“Yes, he did,” Jo Ellen said.
“He…did?” Maggie’s eyes widened. “Roger told me he didn’t tell a soul he’d put the house in my name. He wanted me to keep it and didn’t want anyone to know I had it.”
