and its outskirts. Julie had called to invite them to their house for dinner and Tess
had gratefully accepted. She wanted to get away from the inn and the reporters who
were still camped there. Tess had been unprepared for the level of hostility she would
encounter after the DNA results. For years everyone in Stone Hill outspokenly agreed
that justice had been done. Now the DeGraffs’ suffering seemed to be forgotten, as
people hurried to disassociate themselves from the injustice to Lazarus Abbott. It
was almost as if the whole town blamed Tess for this blot on its reputation.
Tess drove slowly, gravel crunching under her tires, up the winding drive between
a bank of trees. The house, secluded from view by the trees, sat on a slight rise,
surrounded by a lawn now brown from the early frosts. It was a small house with yellow
clapboard siding, dark green shutters, and a metal chimney for their gas fireplace.
Jake’s white van, ladders fastened to the top, was parked next to Julie’s neat little
compact. On the lawn was a cement statue of a wood nymph holding a lantern, which
illuminated the path to the front door.
Tess, Dawn, and Erny piled out of the car and Erny ran to the door, opened it without
knocking, and charged inside. Tess and Dawn followed at a slower pace. They walked
in and were greeted by rich aromas from the kitchen warring with the sweet, cloying
fragrance of potpourri. Erny flopped down on the plump, flowered sofa, a pink knitted
afghan draped behind him. One of Julie’s four cats jumped up on his lap. The beige
walls of the living room were covered with framed prayers bordered by pastel drawings
of children and doilylike crosses embroidered with flowers and leaves. There were
a number of framed photographs atop the television, including a wedding photo of Julie
and Jake, Julie looking blonde and doll-like in her cinch-waisted wedding gown. There
were several of Kelli at various milestones in her life—in mortarboard and gown, in
a prom dress, and in an army uniform. Erny smiled broadly from an eight-by-twelve
print of his school photo with its royal blue background, framed in silverplate. Over
the mantel of the gas fireplace was a copy of a Thomas Kincade painting of a Cotswolds
cottage amidst a bower of roses. Julie came out of the kitchen and greeted them, wiping
her hands on a dish towel.
“Oh, I can hear Sassy purring from here,” she said. “That cat likes you, Erny.”
Erny smiled. “I know.”
“How’s your cat?” Julie asked him.
“Good,” he said, nodding. “My friend Jonah is taking care of him.”
Julie smiled at him. “Well, I’m sure he’ll miss you while you’re gone.”
Erny shrugged. “Can I watch TV?”
“Go ahead if you want,” Julie said.
Erny, still clutching the uncomplaining, seemingly boneless cat, leaned over eagerly
to get the remote from the coffee table and turned on the set. Tess thought to protest,
but then decided against it. At home, she limited his TV viewing, but during these
visits to New Hampshire there were no children Erny’s age around, and he ended up
watching more television than normal. There’s no harm in it, Tess reminded herself;
he also did a lot more bike riding and exploring than he did at home.
“You two come in and talk to me while I cook,” Julie said. “Jake’s taking a shower.”
Tess followed her mother through the tiny dining area and into the warm kitchen. “It
smells great,” she said.
“Chicken pot pie,” said Julie.
“You make the best chicken pot pie,” said Dawn.
Julie turned to Tess. “What kind of mother-in-law actually likes your cooking?” she
asked incredulously.
Tess smiled.
“So, I hear you’ve had a rough day,” Julie said as she pulled rolls from the oven
to check them and then slid them back in.
Tess sighed. “Well, I feel like public enemy number one. We’ve had anonymous phone
threats and somebody threw a rock at
had gratefully accepted. She wanted to get away from the inn and the reporters who
were still camped there. Tess had been unprepared for the level of hostility she would
encounter after the DNA results. For years everyone in Stone Hill outspokenly agreed
that justice had been done. Now the DeGraffs’ suffering seemed to be forgotten, as
people hurried to disassociate themselves from the injustice to Lazarus Abbott. It
was almost as if the whole town blamed Tess for this blot on its reputation.
Tess drove slowly, gravel crunching under her tires, up the winding drive between
a bank of trees. The house, secluded from view by the trees, sat on a slight rise,
surrounded by a lawn now brown from the early frosts. It was a small house with yellow
clapboard siding, dark green shutters, and a metal chimney for their gas fireplace.
Jake’s white van, ladders fastened to the top, was parked next to Julie’s neat little
compact. On the lawn was a cement statue of a wood nymph holding a lantern, which
illuminated the path to the front door.
Tess, Dawn, and Erny piled out of the car and Erny ran to the door, opened it without
knocking, and charged inside. Tess and Dawn followed at a slower pace. They walked
in and were greeted by rich aromas from the kitchen warring with the sweet, cloying
fragrance of potpourri. Erny flopped down on the plump, flowered sofa, a pink knitted
afghan draped behind him. One of Julie’s four cats jumped up on his lap. The beige
walls of the living room were covered with framed prayers bordered by pastel drawings
of children and doilylike crosses embroidered with flowers and leaves. There were
a number of framed photographs atop the television, including a wedding photo of Julie
and Jake, Julie looking blonde and doll-like in her cinch-waisted wedding gown. There
were several of Kelli at various milestones in her life—in mortarboard and gown, in
a prom dress, and in an army uniform. Erny smiled broadly from an eight-by-twelve
print of his school photo with its royal blue background, framed in silverplate. Over
the mantel of the gas fireplace was a copy of a Thomas Kincade painting of a Cotswolds
cottage amidst a bower of roses. Julie came out of the kitchen and greeted them, wiping
her hands on a dish towel.
“Oh, I can hear Sassy purring from here,” she said. “That cat likes you, Erny.”
Erny smiled. “I know.”
“How’s your cat?” Julie asked him.
“Good,” he said, nodding. “My friend Jonah is taking care of him.”
Julie smiled at him. “Well, I’m sure he’ll miss you while you’re gone.”
Erny shrugged. “Can I watch TV?”
“Go ahead if you want,” Julie said.
Erny, still clutching the uncomplaining, seemingly boneless cat, leaned over eagerly
to get the remote from the coffee table and turned on the set. Tess thought to protest,
but then decided against it. At home, she limited his TV viewing, but during these
visits to New Hampshire there were no children Erny’s age around, and he ended up
watching more television than normal. There’s no harm in it, Tess reminded herself;
he also did a lot more bike riding and exploring than he did at home.
“You two come in and talk to me while I cook,” Julie said. “Jake’s taking a shower.”
Tess followed her mother through the tiny dining area and into the warm kitchen. “It
smells great,” she said.
“Chicken pot pie,” said Julie.
“You make the best chicken pot pie,” said Dawn.
Julie turned to Tess. “What kind of mother-in-law actually likes your cooking?” she
asked incredulously.
Tess smiled.
“So, I hear you’ve had a rough day,” Julie said as she pulled rolls from the oven
to check them and then slid them back in.
Tess sighed. “Well, I feel like public enemy number one. We’ve had anonymous phone
threats and somebody threw a rock at
Similar Books
