House on Fire

26

A round nine I found myself awake and a little annoyed that Maggie was taking so long photographing the “destroy upon my death” files. Why hadn’t she come by yet?

I took a shower, brushed my teeth, got dressed, and went in search of Sukie’s room. I knocked, but there was no answer. She was probably already downstairs.

By the time I got to the staircase I could hear voices and laughter coming from below. Maybe Maggie was down there and had some reason why she hadn’t been able to return the files yet. Hildy, I reminded myself. I descended the stairs, and as I drew closer the voices became more distinct.

I passed through the entry foyer to the swinging door that led to the kitchen. But instead of entering, I stood outside and listened for a moment. There are all sorts of devices you can use to amplify distant conversations, including “bionic ears” and such, which let you hear a whisper from three hundred feet away. But I didn’t have any with me, and I wouldn’t have used them if I did. Too unsubtle. I didn’t want to be caught with any incriminating equipment.

I stood there against the wall, smelling coffee and bacon frying.

A male voice was saying, “...but once she gets keys to the car, she’ll drive it off a bridge and screw us out of everything.”

“Dad wouldn’t make that mistake,” a woman said.

“He’s changed. We can’t be sure of anything. And she’s got a leash on Cameron like he’s her puppy.”

“The kind that’s never quite house-trained.”

A few laughs. Who was the “she” they were talking about — Natalya, the Russian fiancée? One of the sisters? Obviously Cameron wasn’t in the kitchen. They were talking about him. Probably Maggie wasn’t either. So the male voice had to be Paul, the older brother.

Paul’s voice from inside the kitchen said, “...see what she was wearing?”

A mumble.

A woman: “Surgically augmented figure.” Who was speaking? Sukie? Hayden? Megan was gone, and there were two women in the room, who had to be Sukie and Hayden.

A second woman, maybe Sukie: “She was a flight attendant, I swear.”

“Definitely mail order,” Paul said. “Or whatever the internet equivalent of mail order is.”

The first woman again, maybe Hayden, said, “Why don’t you just ask him?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“I did ask him, ‘What do you like about her?’ and he said, ‘I enjoy having a conversation with an intellectual equal,’” Sukie, I was now sure it was Sukie, said.

The three roared with laughter.

The longer I waited outside the kitchen, the greater the chance someone would walk by, or come out the swinging doors, and discover me. So I stood there poised to move at any moment.

Maybe Hayden was saying, “...changed his will a thousand times.” But the next few lines were obscured by a clatter of pots or pans.

Then a man said, “He’s gonna screw over Barb and your mom too for this bimbo, and I’m not going to put up with it.”

A murmur and then a female voice: “...controls him now. He does whatever Natalya wants.”

I decided then it was risky to stay out here any longer, eavesdropping, so I pushed open the kitchen door and entered.

Three of the adult Kimball kids were sitting around a long metal-topped worktable on stools, mugs of coffee in their hands. No Maggie.

“You remember her at all?” Paul was saying. “She was the nightmare nanny.”

“The Irish one?” said Sukie.

“Maureen, the bad-tempered one from Dublin,” said Paul. “I eventually got her fired. I was quite proud of that. Well, hello there. I forgot your name.” He looked uncomfortable, like he was wondering how much I’d heard.

“Nick. Good morning.” I leaned over and gave Sukie a kiss on the lips. Somewhere a dishwasher was going. The air was warm and humid.

“Morning,” she said. She was in gym shorts and a T-shirt. “Coffee?” She waved at a glass carafe of coffee in the middle of the dented metal tabletop.

“Sure. Black, thanks.”

She retrieved a big white mug from the counter behind her. Pouring a full mug of coffee from the glass carafe, she handed it to me, and as she did, she looked me straight in the eye. Arched her brow. As if asking, Well? How’d it go?

I just nodded, once, and said, “Thanks.”