A Gala Event by Sheila Connolly Page B

kind.”
    Meg shot a glance at Seth. “Where are you going, Aaron?”
    Aaron gave another shrug. “Not your problem.”
    Meg refused to believe that. “Aaron, you’re welcome to stay here and sleep on our couch, like Seth offered.” Seth gave her an odd look.
    Aaron hesitated before answering. “That’s more than kind, and I’m happy to accept. But what I really want is to take a shower.”
    It was Seth who replied. “No problem.” So he’d cooled off. Meg rewarded him with a smile.
    â€œLook at the time!” Gail exclaimed. “I’ve got to get home. Aaron, I’ll start looking for your stuff as soon as I can. But tomorrow’s Sunday, and I really need to spend some quality time with my family, after this week.”
    â€œNo rush, Gail,” Aaron told her. “It’s already been twenty-five years. A couple more days won’t matter.”
    â€œGreat. Meg, Seth, thanks for including me. Aaron, I’ll be seeing you again, I hope. Night, all!” She rushed out the back door, and Meg heard her car start up.
    â€œLet me go find some blankets and stuff,” Meg said. “We don’t use the front parlor much, so it’s chilly.”
    â€œI’ve slept in worse.”
    Meg and Seth spent a few minutes sorting out bedclothesand pillows and such, and then Seth walked Max, and Meg made sure Lolly had food. Meg directed Aaron to the shower, and she could swear that his eyes lit up at the sight of it . . . with a door that closed.
    â€œWhat do you think you’re doing, Meg?” Seth asked, once he heard the water running.
    â€œThe man needs help. We can help. It’s that simple. Do you believe his story?”
    Seth didn’t answer right away. Finally he said, “God help me, I think I do. But you’re the one complaining about how many things you have to do. How did you manage to add looking into an old case of arson?”
    â€œDon’t ask me; these things just keep happening. If we’re lucky, Gail will find the files and there won’t be anything important in them, and Aaron will go . . . wherever.”
And if we’re not lucky?
Meg refused to consider that. “Can we go to bed now?”

10

    Meg woke up with the sun and lay in bed worrying. Seth was right: why did she feel compelled to help some guy she didn’t know, who hadn’t been part of Granford for a quarter century, and who wasn’t exactly popular with the few townspeople who remembered him? Even usually affable Seth had been wary of him.
    But Meg believed Aaron.
Stupid, Meg—now you’re going on gut instinct?
She couldn’t see what he hoped to gain, other than peace of mind. Legally he was in the clear, since he’d served out his sentence. It seemed credible—barely—that the drugs had so addled his brain that he really didn’t know what had happened that night. He was prepared to acknowledge his guilt, but he wanted to fill in the blanks. That she could understand.
    Which left her with a couple of questions. One, why should she take this on? She had no obligation to him. Two, how on earth was she supposed to look into a crime that had takenplace so long ago? The former police chief had retired long since, and Meg wasn’t even sure he was still alive. Would Art be willing to share whatever records he had? There would have been an arson investigation, but would that be included in that report? The Eastman house had been far enough outside of town that there were no near neighbors, and apparently no witnesses had come forward. Were trial transcripts available to random citizens like her? Could Art request them? Was that public defender still practicing? And why did she care?
    Because it was the right thing to do. It was an act of charity, of paying it forward. Sure, she was busy, but this could affect the rest of Aaron’s life, and her problems with menus and