“What can I do for you?” Rupert asked. “The requirements in the will were quite clear and even though we are headed into winter, you have to stay in the house for a full year, you know. Only the tourists get to avoid the snow.” He chuckled at his own wit.
I assured him I had no intention of moving out of the house. He politely waited for me to explain our presence.
“This is Diana Moonward. She needs a lawyer for her brother.”
“You look very familiar, young lady. Have we met?”
Diana nodded. “You handled my parents’ estate. Elliot and Fiona Ward?”
“Oh yes. I remember. What a tragedy. I’m so sorry. I’d be happy to help you. Where is your brother?” He peered behind us. “What does he need—a will, a contract review?”
“No, sir. He’s in jail,” Diana said. “He’s been accused of murder.” Her voice broke and she began crying in earnest again.
Rupert Worthington sucked in air and shook his head. He pawed through the papers on his desk until he found a box of tissues.
“Oh my. I haven’t handled a criminal case in years, just years.” He chewed on his lip and regarded Diana’s pale, blotchy face. “But, yes. I can take care of him.” Rupert patted her shoulder and bounced on his toes. “I may need to consult with a firm in Grand Rapids, but you just leave everything to me.”
Diana cast a worried glance my way.
“Can you tell us what to expect next?” I asked. I had already told Diana what I knew from the arresting officer’s point of view, but wanted to hear what Rupert had to say. Procedures were different in various judicial districts.
“There will be a preliminary hearing as soon as they can get it scheduled. I hope to have him released on bail but I wouldn’t plan on it. Better to be pleasantly surprised than bitterly disappointed.” Rupert began a smile and then retracted it when he saw Diana’s stricken face.
Diana and I shook his hand again and headed back out into the brisk day.
“What am I going to do? I don’t have money for bail. What if it’s a huge amount?” Diana waved her arms, and her eyes were wild. “Where will he stay until trial? How can they even think he did it? They’ve all known him since he was a little kid. Tom Andrews was his best friend in high school.”
I shook my head. I had never been on this side of the arrest before. I knew he would be booked and a charge would be entered. Then they would set a court date to decide whether there was enough evidence to go to trial.
“Let’s go to my place and figure out what the next steps should be,” I said.
We put our heads into the wind and, with linked arms, walked up the street.
14
Diana arranged with Rupert to meet her at the police station later that day. We convinced Alex to leave his manager in charge of Everyday Grill and go to my place with us to make a plan. I’d called Mom and Vi. I didn’t think I could keep Diana calm and organize what to do next all on my own. My mom was great at the soothing-and-calming thing. Maybe I could convince her to do a tarot reading that was slanted toward a good outcome.
I’d also phoned Seth, who was finally out of bed at eleven, and warned him the gang would be arriving shortly.
The doorbell rang just as we were taking off our coats. Mom, Dad, and Vi stood on the porch. I questioned the wisdom of calling them when I saw they were laden with baskets and tote bags.
“I knew it!” Vi said when I opened the door. She pushed past me and dropped her bags, gesturing wildly. “I knew that whole thing in the woods would lead to trouble. I just felt it in my bones and now look at us. Dylan’s in jail, Rafe is dead . . .” She got a good look at Diana and trailed off.
“Diana, come sit down. I have cookies and chamomile tea.” Mom held out a basket and gestured toward the dining room.
Seth, Alex, and I followed along with the dogs, who seemed to sense the mood of the room and went quietly into a corner to lie down.
“We have to find out what really happened so we can get Dylan out of prison.” Vi pounded the table and the dogs looked up.
“What can we do, Vi? We don’t know anything.” Mom shuffled her cards and laid them out in front of her.
“We can start by talking to whoever was there that night,” Vi said.
“Vi, did you see anything unusual?” I asked.
“What wasn’t unusual? People in robes, chanting, fire in the cauldron. I was amazed!”
“But did you see anything that might relate to what happened to Rafe?”
Vi sat back and took up her knitting. She claimed she couldn’t really think unless she was knitting, but her talents only stretched to scarves and hats. Occasionally she branched out into dog sweaters, which she foisted onto her clients. This time, something very long and purple dangled from her needles.
“I saw Rafe talk to that big guy.”
“Lucan Reed?” Diana asked.
“Yeah, that might be it. They didn’t look friendly, almost like they were arguing. They only spoke for a minute and then Rafe stalked off to the other side of the circle. It was really dark, so I couldn’t see much.”