“To give you a piece of my mind,” Gerda responded promptly.

“Gerda?” he bellowed, then his tone dropped to a querulous grumble, still audible from a distance of ten feet away from the receiver.

She made appropriate soothing noises while he unburdened himself about his views of people who were so self-absorbed that they could commit murder on his business premises without any thought or consideration for what this was going to do to his work schedules. When he finally ran down, Gerda proceeded to give him the lecture of his life about reneging on promises. To my amazement, he did not resort to shouting again.

Gerda listened to his mutterings in his own defense for a minute, then cut him short. “You’re not fooling anyone. You’re just an old skinflint and ought to be ashamed of yourself. Now, you’re going to call Sheriff Sarkisian right now and tell him you wouldn’t dream of pressing charges against Peggy. Then you’re going to call Peggy and apologize to her for breaking your word. Is that understood?” She listened for a moment, smiling. “Thought so. All right, you too. See you at the dinner tomorrow.” She hung up and turned back to me, beaming. “All taken care of.”

I stared at her. “What hold do you have over him?” I demanded.

She actually blushed. “Oh, he wanted to marry me a couple of years back.”

If I hadn’t already been sitting I would have fallen. I settled for clutching Hefty. “You… He…”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Annike.” She sounded as stern as when she’d talked to Cartwright. “Certainly being rich would be nice, but not if it meant having to put up with that man.” She sniffed. “He doesn’t like cats.” And she walked out of the room before I could think of anything else to say.

I finished my tea, then got ready for bed. It just went to show, there were all sorts of things you didn’t know, even about your nearest and dearest.

The roar of an engine missing on one of its cylinders woke me up all too early Sunday morning. I shoved my feet into slippers, dragged on my comfortable old bathrobe, and hurried out to the deck in the drizzling rain. Through the trees, I could just make out something large and oddly colored down near the gate. Simon Lowell’s old hippie van. I went back inside, donned jeans, a sweatshirt and tall rubber boots, and hiked down to meet him.

By the time I got there, it was pouring. Simon stood beside the fence post he had put in last night, frowning. “What’s wrong?” I called as I approached.

He looked up and shook his head. “Ground’s too wet. I’ll probably have to take it out and reset it during a dry spell.”

As I commiserated with him over this, another ancient engine drew closer and labored its way up the last steep portion of hill that led to Gerda’s. Adam Fairfield’s Chevy appeared around the bend. Any hope I had that he might just drive on up the lane faded as he pulled in at the gate, blocking it. He climbed out.

“Knew that racket had to be you.” He glared at Simon.

“Look, Fairfield…”

Adam stalked over, sliding in the mud, and took a swing at Simon. Simon stepped back, slipped, and went down with a splat. You just couldn’t thud on ground this soft. Adam threw himself after him, and the two rolled until they were drenched and filthy, all the while throwing wild punches and swearing. I watched for a few seconds, then crossed to the pump house, which also held the controls to Gerda’s watering system. I selected a hose, turned it on full blast, then returned to the two men and aimed it on them. I wasn’t sure they’d notice, what with the pouring rain, but I managed to get it in their faces.

They fell apart, scrambling and sliding to hands and knees, both glaring at me. I held it on Adam a little longer, rinsing off his clothes for him. I don’t think he appreciated it. He started toward me, then stopped.

I lowered my weapon. “Going to be reasonable, now?”

Adam drew a shaky breath. “God, I’m sorry, Annike. But Nancy just told me she’s going to marry that…that…”

Simon’s bearded jaw dropped. “She is?” A broad grin spread across his face.

“If you think I’ll have a worthless drug dealer without a penny to his name for my baby’s husband…”

Simon burst out laughing. “She’s going to marry me!” he cried to me. “Damn, I can’t believe it! She really loves me!”

“She’s crazy if she does,” Adam panted. “She’s a Stanford student! She could have a real life ahead! I won’t let her throw it away on some wastrel who’s never accomplished anything!”

Simon’s chin came up, and his eyes narrowed. “Look, I’ll make this easier for you. Dad.”

I held the hose at the ready, but although Adam’s hands clenched at that epithet, and he twitched all over, he made no immediate move to attack Simon.

“It’s none of your business,” Lowell went on, a touch of smugness creeping into his voice. And his attitude. “But you might as well know. I have accomplished a couple of things.” His lip curled. “More than you ever have.”

“Like jail time?” sneered Adam.

“How about a doctorate from Yale in political science? And I contribute articles to national political magazines. Regularly.”

Adam’s fury faded to an expression more akin to someone who had just been hit over the head with a bag of wet cement. “You went to college? To Yale?”

“Yeah. You should be glad I don’t mind that my future wife’s only going to Stanford. And there’s more. Brody was trying to blackmail me, you know. He thought-and he was right-that I’d rather people didn’t know I inherited thirty-seven million from my mother’s side of the family.”

“Thirty…” Adam mouthed the word, not able to make a sound.

“Why-why is that worth blackmail?” I demanded, stunned myself.

Simon gave me a derisive look. “Some people would say it’s easy to preach communism and poverty when you’ve got a trust fund to fall back on. I’d give it away if I could, but I can’t. But I do give away the quarterly checks. That’s how Brody found out. He audited the homeless shelter.”

“Peggy’s?” I sounded as weak as I felt. Thirty-seven million?

He nodded. “I hadn’t covered my tracks as well as I’d thought. Once he’d traced the donation to me, he started digging and found out the whole. So what do you make of that? Dad.” He turned back to Adam. “I can afford to take care of Nancy.”

Adam stared at him with that blank face of shock. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He turned back to his truck. “Got to go to work,” he managed. He shook his head. “The police are leaving, and someone’s got to play guard.” He climbed in. Without ever once looking at Simon, he backed out of the drive, maneuvered until he faced the direction from which he’d come, and departed down the hill.

“Why didn’t you tell him, before?” I demanded as the racket of the engine faded. “Think of all the upset you could have spared Nancy.”

He tilted his head. “You really don’t get it? I wanted Nancy-and both her parents-to accept me for what I am, not for my bank account. I want her on my terms. And now I’ve got her. So to hell with her parents.” He nodded toward the post. “Tell your aunt I’ll keep checking on it. And I’ll get to her insulation later. Right now,” and his smug grin returned, “I’m going to go see Nancy.” He jumped into the old van, waved at me, and backed out.

I stared after him. Thirty-seven million. And he wanted to give it away. I agreed that nonprofits and other good causes could use a good chunk of it. But all? My admiration for Simon’s principles swelled. But his attitude? I slogged back through the rain, pondering the man. Along with all that money, he also had a violent streak. And a desire to control people. I hoped Nancy was making a wise decision.

I found Gerda in the kitchen, already dressed, scrambling egg substitute and toasting whole grain bread. It smelled wonderful. I thrust my worries aside and settled at the table, sipping the tea my aunt shoved in front of me.

“What was all that ruckus down at the gate about?” She scooped up Clumsy, who had just jumped on the table, and deposited him on the floor.

I explained what had occurred in general terms, but-and it took a severe struggle-I kept the news about Simon’s fortune to myself. I knew my aunt too well. She wouldn’t be able to resist telling Peggy, and probably Ida Graham, as well. Then Sue Hinkel would get the word, and it would pass to every patron who visited her salon. It was Simon’s dirty-if platinum-lined-secret. It was for him to tell or keep quiet as he chose, no matter how hard it was for me to keep from blurting it out.

In less than ten minutes, we had finished our rapid meal, cleaned up the dishes, and headed down to the garage. Gerda opened the door, then froze in a dramatic posture just inside the threshold.

“Hurry up, I’m getting wet!” I complained, still at the base of the stairs.

“Tedi Bird is out of your car!” Gerda whispered.

“Run for it!” I exclaimed, and pushed forward. But we were beaten to the vehicle by a beak. The turkey scrambled into the backseat, then settled with a rustle of feathers.

“She likes car rides,” Gerda announced with fond delight. “What a clever bird.”

“I can think of more appropriate adjectives.” I raised the top, climbed in and started the engine. That Damned Bird positively radiated contentedness.

Unbelievably, the school custodian awaited us at the door to the cafeteria. He let us in, handed the keys to Gerda with orders not to leave the place unattended, and took himself off. Gerda and I walked in and looked around.

“Serving tables right there, beside the kitchen?” I suggested. Might as well keep it as easy as possible.

“Hmmm.” Gerda strolled toward the opposite end with its raised stage. From there she made a tour of the outer perimeters, eyeing the current decorations, which consisted of the artwork of the primary grades.