“The act?”
“Sex, obviously!” The exclamation, while stage-whispered, drew scolding looks from a few nearby mourners. Benjamin stuck his tongue out at them like a child and continued walking.
Avery, on the other hand, was trying to understand what part of he and Eira having intercourse should have been obvious to her.
“I can’t say I blame them, I mean, the woman was surprisingly sexually voracious—insatiable, really—there were timesIhad trouble keeping up. You know what I mean?”
“I can’t say I do,” Avery confessed, wondering if she’d overdone it. Thiswas the problem with coercive magic. You could get someone to talk, but it didn’t guarantee they would focus on what you wanted to hear.
Benjamin flushed. “Am I oversharing? I am. I’m so sorry, I do that. Especially when someone doesn’t tell me to shut up immediately.”
“Does that happen often?” Avery prompted.
“Lately,” said Benjamin. He whispered quietly, “Truth be told, I’m only here because Eira insisted I be taken care of—sweet woman, God rest her soul. If the family had their way, I’d have beendisinvited.”
Now they were getting somewhere. “Why do you say that?”
“Well.” Benjamin pulled her closer conspiratorially and led her toward the other alcove away from the rest of the mourners but with a clear view of both the casket and the small chapel. “Do you see him?” He indicated the salt-and-pepper-haired man that Avery had seen shaking Detective Lahiri’s hand. “That’s Elis Goff, Eira’s son. No matter how happy I made his mother, I don’t think he could get over the idea that she was spending time with someone even younger than him. Was convinced I was after her money, you know.”
Avery took a deep breath. He was stilltouchingher, and now his face was far too close to her own. She was fighting a vague feeling of claustrophobia. If she let her discomfort distract her, she was going to lose the focus of the spell. Maybe she could trick herself into feeling more comfortable by imagining… She caught sight of a flash of pink hair near one of the photo displays and felt her muscles relax. She remembered the unexpected warmth that followed after the initial shock of Saga’s embrace, a feeling both curious and concerning in the comfort it brought. A feeling she had longed to re-create but also deliberately avoided when given the opportunity. There, she could focus withthat. She let her mind steep in the memory of that safety and wove that intention and feeling into her next words. “But of course, you weren’t.”
Words began spilling out him. “I didn’t give a damn about her money! We met at a gallery opening a few years ago, and we just clicked. She really understood my paintings and my whole approach to my medium.Asked me to tea, and it just…made sense from there. I realize we were an unorthodox pair, and that’s hard for some people to accept…” Benjamin’s expression twisted unkindly. “Though, frankly, Elis Goff really shouldn’t be judging anyone about their partners the way he goes through women. According to Eira, ever since the loss of his wife and son, he’s had a new partner practically every week, and keeps frittering away his allowance by lavishing them with gifts or trips. Oh, the way she’d go on about him to me, Avery, her heart was so broken.”
That was an interesting anomaly. “He lost his wifeandson?”
Benjamin put a hand to his chest and dropped his voice to a whisper, as if he would offend the air for speaking of it. “Horrible tragedy, freak accident, they were flying to meet him in Greece and their private plane malfunctioned. Not even the pilot survived. It was before I knew anyone in the family, but Eira would talk about it often—she never really got over their deaths.”
He was on a roll now, so much that Avery felt safe enough to pivot the conversation. “What about Elis? Do you believe his lack of commitment and philandering is due to an inability to deal with tragedy, or something else?”
Benjamin pondered this question. “Do you mean, do I think he’s enjoying the freedom of being a widower? No. Well…maybe, but I’m inclined to say no. I think he’s an ass, but I put a lot of trust in Eira’s opinion. He and I don’t get along, but I’ve never seen him act maliciously. He loved them, he’d just rather flush himself down the drain than go to therapy.” His grip on Avery’s arm tightened as a new group entered, and she closed her eyes to hold tight to that sense memory.
Saga had smelled like baked goods: vanilla, cinnamon, and cardamom, intermixed with the chill dampness of the morning. A moment of hygge amid the tragedy, as Esteri might have said. Her chest ached, longing for it.
“See her?” Benjamin asked, and when Avery opened her eyes, she saw that among the new group was a woman in a large-brimmed hat with a black veil that covered most of her face. “Now if you really want the family tea about someone who’d gleefully profit from someone’s death, there’s yourgirl.Cousin Carys, the proverbial black sheep of the family. Absolute bloodsucker. She and Eira sort of grew up together, but when Carys’s mother passed away she inherited everything and absolutely squandered all of it—including the country house the girls spent their summers in. Sold it off for pennies because she was out of money and too impatient to wait for a proper offer. Oooh, it would still get Eira in a fury when she talked about it—made it sound like maybe Carys was neglectful in her mother’s end-of-life care. Eira had to pay for her headstone because Carys couldn’t be bothered—her own mother, can you imagine? I’d say I can’t believe she bothered to show her face here today, but that’s right on-brand for Carys. Pure entitlement and audacity.”
“Well,” Avery shifted in a manner that loosened his grip on her. “In all fairness, with that veil, she has yet to officially show her face anywhere.”
Benjamin stifled a laugh. “Carys’s home in the city is so overdue for repair, I’m sure she’s hoping something was left to her in the will, and let me tell you, if that’s the only reason she’s here, she’s going to besorelydisappointed.”
Thewill.A classic motive. “Are you saying you’ve seen the will?”
“God no,” said Benjamin. “But I do know…” He scanned the room before spying a gentleman in a sharp suit standing near the altar. Tall, distinguished, white hair, perhaps in his early to mid-fifties. “That tall drink of water, Mr. Bowen, was Eira’s executor. Real high-end barrister—he’s the one who helped her sort out all of the intricate details of what would go to whom.”
Avery frowned. “Was she expecting to die?”
“At that age, I imagine you’re always expecting it, but she had a congenital heart condition. It caused such a scare a while back, and I think she’s been fine-tuning all the details since. Elis is convinced that was why she took up with me in the first place after this really nasty attack years ago. Maybe it was. I suppose if you stare death in the face like that, you want to make the most of what you have left—not that she was squandering it away before she met me, the woman has an achievement list so long it makesWar and Peacelook like a pamphlet—”
“What was said between Eira and Mr. Bowen that makes you so certain Carys wasn’t getting anything in the will, Ben?” Avery kept her tone level and calm like a wave on the beach.
Ben blinked and tried to remember what he’d been saying before. “Oh, just that Eira never forgave Carys for how she treated her own mother and what was left to her. I can’t tell you more than that though—I was never there for the actual meetings, but sometimes she’d tell me things…”
“Why didn’t she want you there?”
“Ididn’t want to be there,” Benjamin answered defensively. “I get that death is inevitable, but the idea of hammering out what happened to her stuff once she was gone just made my stomach churn.”
“There was nothing you wanted?”
“Eira already gave me more than I could ever ask for. I got to spend three wonderful years with a brilliant woman. She took me to see Paris, Milan, Athens—and paid off my student loans. I’m not even twenty-five, and I’m completely debt-free.” He shrugged. “Anything she might have chosen to leave me would be cheap in comparison.”
