Juliet smiled. “We all have our sins.” But she grew more serious. “Wendy—”
“It’s okay. I should have called. I was so into the idea of going to New York on my own—” She bit just the top off the small truffle, savoring it as she leaned back against the futon. “I should have gone to college this year instead of waiting. I want to be more independent than Dad or Grandma and Grandpa are willing to let me be. I decided—I don’t know, I just decided to do it. Be independent. Not ask permission.”
“That’ll be easier for them to swallow when you’re eighteen,” Juliet said, plucking what she thought was a vanilla malt truffle from the tempting lineup in the box. “Six months to go. Right now, you’re still a minor.”
She sighed, taking another tiny bite of her truffle. “I know. It stinks.”
“But I promise, Wendy. I’ll get you down here for a few days before I have to vacate the premises. We’ll go to museums, visit the park. I’m looking forward to it. It’s just that right now, I’ve got some loose ends I need to tie up.”
“Do they have to do with what was in that envelope?”
Juliet hadn’t shown Wendy the photograph of her on the steps of her building, on her way to work on a relatively recent morning—she was in the jeans she’d bought in late August, the same day as her leather jacket. The blood-dripping eyes and horns made her skin crawl. But the idea that Bobby Tatro had taken a picture of her at her home without her even being aware of it had her wanting, at the very least, to get her niece safely back home. He’d crossed the line.
“Yes,” she said, “they do.”
“Marshal business?”
Juliet nodded. “There’s a chance a fugitive I took into custody wants revenge now that he’s out of prison.”
“Has he threatened you?”
“Not directly, no.”
Wendy bent her head back so that it was resting on the cushion next to where Juliet was sitting. “I’m glad you like your job, Aunt Juliet, because I sure don’t want to be in law enforcement. I don’t want to be a landscaper, either, although I think I like it better than all that cop stuff.”
“You want to go to med school, right?”
She sat up straight, finishing off her truffle. “If I ever write the stupid essays for my applications.”
“You’ve got time,” Juliet said. “Take a break.”
She shook her head. “Mom wants me to apply early decision. I need to get them done. I should have stayed home this weekend and worked on them, so I guess it’s just as well—” She broke off, heaving another sigh. “I’ll take the train back in the morning.”
Juliet touched her niece’s shoulder, stiff with tension and hurt feelings. “Your dad said he’d drive down and meet you in Katonah tomorrow. That’s a cute village in Westchester. You can take Metro North, a commuter line—it’ll be an adventure.”
She shrugged. “Yeah. Sure.”
“It’s a three-and-a-half-hour drive back to Vermont from Katonah. Maybe you and your dad can sort out a few things—”
“Like what? He thinks I came here without telling him, when I left a note.”
“You didn’t ask his permission.”
Wendy rolled her eyes. “I never asked him his permission when I went on trips with my mom.”
Juliet was sure Wendy knew that traipsing off to New York on her own was different—she was just being stubborn. A Longstreet trait. On the other hand, as the youngest of the six Longstreet kids and the only female, Juliet could commiserate with Wendy about going up against the prevailing wisdom of the Longstreet side of her family.
Her niece was frowning at her. “Aunt Juliet! Haven’t you picked out a truffle yet?”
Juliet grinned. “I did. I just haven’t eaten it yet.”
Wendy selected another, and they each ate their truffles and talked for an hour, before making up the futon together. Wendy crawled in, pulling the blanket up to her chin, looking so small and young. “Thanks, Aunt Juliet,” she said. “I’m sorry if I’ve been difficult. My dad—I don’t mean to cause a hard time for him.”
“Don’t worry about your dad. Worry about yourself and what you want and making the best decisions you can.”
“Coming to New York today probably wasn’t a good decision, was it?”
“I don’t know, Wendy, you’ve always been the good kid—maybe it’s about time you rebelled a little. We’d all worry if you were too perfect.”
Juliet saw the spark in her niece’s eyes, and the start of a smile at her comment. Wendy no doubt knew what she’d done was over the top but she had a hunch Wendy wouldn’t be taking off again anytime soon. Juliet wished her good-night. But she took the envelope with Tatro’s picture of her into her bedroom with her. If Wendy had sneaked off to NewYork, she wouldn’t necessarily be above peeking inside the envelope. Then she’d tell her father, and Juliet would have all her brothers wanting specifics. It was enough for them to know—and Wendy would surely tell them—that she had an ex-con on her case.
Seven