On Fire(51)

"I think I understand," Riley said.

"You've helped us stay connected to Bennett, too. We all miss him."

She nodded.

"I know. He's hard not to miss. But now..." She paused, sipped her wine.  She seemed to be talking to herself as much as to her lunch partners.

"All that's happened this past week has made me realize, or acknowledge,  what I already knew--that I need to move on with my life.

Perhaps if Ben and I had had children it would be different. But we didn't, and now I have to make a decision."

"Caroline" -She shook off Riley's interruption.

"Ben has two children. Abigail will carry on her father's work.

Matthew will carry on his father's commitment to his family's businesses."

If he didn't get himself arrested or killed, Riley thought. But she  could detect no such concerns, nor any bitterness, in Caroline Granger.

"Caroline, you've been amazing this past year. We would all miss you.

I hope you know that. Do you have any plans yet?"

"I have a condominium in Florida. I think I'll go there for the winter.  Then I'll reexamine my options in the spring." She smiled at Riley,  every hair and careful smudge of makeup perfect, in place.

"I'm grateful for the seven years I had with Ben and his family and friends."

"As they--we--all are for you."

Caroline seemed relieved simply to have stated her intentions out loud.

She turned to Straker, gave him a clear-eyed, businesslike look.

"I should tell you, and Riley, that Emile came to see me last night at  my apartment here on the waterfront. He's back in Boston. I haven't  mentioned his visit to the police."

Straker had no visible reaction.

"What did he want?"

She stared at her wineglass as if transfixed.

"He asked me if I was the one who encouraged Ben to go aboard the  Encounter on its last voyage. You know he went aboard at the last  minute."

"And?"

She didn't lift her gaze from her wineglass.

"I was."

Riley didn't move. Straker's eyes met hers briefly, shifted back to Caroline.

"Why?"

"Oh, he was champing at the bit to go. It was so obvious. I wanted us to  do a few things together, spend some time on Mount Desert, go sailing  with friends, just take a long drive in the country." She sighed,  wistful.                       
       
           



       

"But I knew he wanted to go. So I told him I'd prefer to wait until  fall, when the leaves had changed and the crowds had eased. I said I'd  go to a spa while he was away, visit old friends. I said-- I said, "

That's where your heart is, Ben. Go. "" "And you told this to Emile?"

Straker asked.

She nodded.

"He thought it was Matt who'd urged Ben to go. It would explain why he's had such a difficult time accepting what happened.

But it wasn't Matt. It was me. I've lived with that guilt. "

Riley reached over and touched Caroline's hand.

"Unless you blew up the Encounter yourself, it's not your fault."

"Reason and guilt often don't go hand in hand. But thank you." "What  about Emile?" Straker asked. "He simply nodded and left. I urged him to  go to the police before anything else terrible happens, but he ignored  me completely. He's always had that way about him when he's on a  mission--you can't divert him." She sipped more wine; she'd hardly  touched her food.

"I haven't told the police about his visit. I suppose I should."

Riley was ready to tell her not to bother, just to spare her the trauma, but Straker went all-FBI and said, "Yes. You should."

"I'll do so at once," Caroline said, and smiled.

"Thank you both. I hope I know this will all work out. It has to.

None of us can take any more tragedy."

She stayed to pay the bill, shooed Riley and Straker out. When they  reached the brick plaza in front of the hotel, the sun was breaking  through clouds that had floated in off the water.

Straker said, "I wonder what Emile's up to."

"From what Caroline said, I'd say he has the bit in his teeth about  something. Well, that's nothing new. But if he sticks his face into the  wrong hornet's nest and gets himself killed " "Don't jump ahead, Riley.  We just had lunch. Where to now?"

She thought a moment, knew what she had to do.

"I want to see my sister."

Sixteen -^Q )^~

Fviley was struck by how happy, even relieved, she was to see her sister when Sig opened the door to her Chestnut Street house.

"Where's Straker?" Sig asked, peering out at the street.

"What makes you think he's with me?"

"Because he is."

Riley scoffed.

"I'm lucky I can breathe without him."

"The question is, would you want to?"

"Sig..."

She smiled, motioning Riley inside.

"So is he here or isn't he?"

"He's parking the car."

Sig led her into the living room, where Riley flopped onto a chair and  tried to ease the tension in her neck and shoulder muscles. Sig's house  was tidy and spotless, not that she was tidy and spotless by nature--she  and Matt had help. Her sister's artistic touch was everywhere, in the  placement of furniture, the choice of fabrics and artwork. Riley had no  such knack. She just piled up stuff where she had room and bought what  caught her fancy, and what she could afford.

Her sister smiled knowingly.

"I think you've finally met a man who knows your bark is bigger than your bite."

"Now, don't be jumping to conclusions. And never mind my bark. His  bark's just as big as his bite. He" -Riley frowned, sat forward as she  listened.

"Did you hear that?"

Sig frowned.

"What?"

"Shh."

They listened, silent, as a distinct rattling sounded from down the  hall, toward the kitchen and the back door. A garden courtyard connected  with a narrow, secret alley that led back to Mount Vernon Street, one  of Beacon Hill's many nooks and crannies.

"Quick," Sig whispered, moving toward the hall, "grab a vase or something."

Riley picked up a heavy, hand blown glass vase from a gleaming side table. She moved in behind her sister, kept her voice low.

"How would someone get in? You keep your doors locked, don't you?"

"Of course."

"Maybe they broke in while you were taking a nap."

"I haven't slept."

"Have you been out?"

"I took a short walk this morning, but other than that, I've been here."  Sig placed a hand on the cream- colored woodwork and leaned forward,  peering down the hall.

"If someone knows the alley and had a key--unless they broke in"
                       
       
           



       
"Matt?"

Sig didn't answer. She eased into the hall, Riley on her heels with the vase.

"Let me go first," Riley whispered.

"I can move faster than you can." "Do you think we should call the police?"

"If it's Matt..."

She nodded, and Riley edged in front of her. The vase was heavy and  awkward, a bit slippery, but it would do damage if she had to hit  someone over the head with it.

"I hope Straker finds a parking space and gets in here," Sig said quietly.

"It's okay. We can handle" -- "That's the spirit."

It was Emile's voice behind them. Riley was so startled that the vase  slipped out of her grasp and shattered on the hardwood floor. Sig  clasped her bulging stomach with one hand. They both whirled around.

Their grandfather smiled at them.

"I'm glad I taught my two granddaughters how to stand up for themselves. I was trying not to startle you."

"Well, you blew that," Riley said, picking her way through the shards of glass.

"We thought you were down the hall in the kitchen," Sig said.

"I was. I came through the drawing room."

Riley had never seen him look this tired, this worn- out. Even after the  Encounter had gone down and the air was running out in their  submersible, he had been numb, fatalistic. Now, she could see every  second of the past year's trauma etched in the lines in his face, in its  grayish color, in the stooped way he walked. Only his dark eyes  reflected any of the old fight, intensity and spirit.

"How long have you been here?" Sig glared at him, obviously unsure of her own reaction to Emile sneaking around in her house.

"Why didn't you use the front door and knock?"

"I had a key. I didn't realize you were here. I thought I might catch Matthew by surprise."

"Obviously he's not here. Emile..." Sig threw up her hands in frustration. Clearly at a loss.

"Damn it!"

Riley squatted down to pick up the thick pieces of the broken vase.

"Straker's on his way. He'll make you go to the police this time, Emile.  He's ready to go FBI on us. I think he's about had it with cutting you  any slack. Me, too."