One of the French doors to the terrace opened, and Lizzie came in, a pair of sweet teas in her hands and something that looked like a sleeve of Fig Newtons in the pocket of her shorts.

“I’m hungry,” she said. “And I feel like sharing the wealth.”

As she headed around and dropped a kiss on his lips, he pulled her into his lap and helped her take out the cookies. “Sounds good to me.”

“How are things going in there?”

“I have no idea. I keep expecting them to say that they’ve copied the files and are off, but not yet.”

“It’s been a while.” She opened the plastic wrapping and offered him one. When he shook his head, she put a cookie in her mouth. “But they haven’t asked for anything else?”

“No.” Taking a sip of what she’d brought, he sighed. “Oh, yeah. This is good.”

“So guess what?”

“Tell me.”

“I’m giving myself a promotion.” As he laughed, she nodded. “I’m appointing myself house manager.”

The instant she said it, he thought, Oh, thank God. Because yes, the bills were piling up, and staff had to be handled, and the endless details of the estate had to be dealt with even if there was a freeze on spending. But …

“Wait, you have so much work already. The gardens, and—”

“Here’s the thing. Mr. Harris has quit.”

Lane shook his head. “You know, I’m actually relieved.”

“Yeah, me, too. I helped him move out today. I didn’t want to go into it with you at the time because he’d made up his mind and there’s been so much else going on. But his check bounced, and it made me think about what’s going on with your household accounts—this place is expensive to run with a lot of moving parts. I mean, like, we need to pay all those waiters. We can’t just leave them hanging. The groundsmen all have checks that go out automatically, I just don’t know when? And if there weren’t enough funds for Mr. Harris? Then there aren’t enough for the other people.”

“Shit, I didn’t even think about that.”

“I know that you’re going to want to do right by everyone. So we’ve got to get money into the household account, and we need to make staffing plans. If cuts have to be made, we’ve got to give people notice. We can’t have the folks who work here in good faith get hurt.”

“I agree.” He kissed her again. “One hundred percent.”

“But I’ll figure it out. I’ll go through everything and then let you know where we are. I don’t know where we can find the cash—”

“Actually, I do. I’ll take care of it first thing in the morning before Lenghe comes.”

“Lenghe?”

“Yeah. I’m playing some high stakes poker tomorrow night. And before you say that’s crazy, I’ll remind you that I have to work with what I got—and it ain’t much.”

“Who’s Lenghe—how do you say it?”

“Lang-ee. And we call him the Grain God—and that’s self-explanatory. You’re really going to like him. He’s right up your alley, a good soul who loves the land. And remember, I played poker in college and afterward. It’s my only skill.”

She put her arms around his neck. “I think you’ve got a couple of others—”

“Am I interrupting anything?”

Lane pivoted the chair toward the door, and thought it was so damned appropriate that Merrimack picked that moment to make an appearance. “You guys finished in there, Detective?”

Annnnnd there was the smile. “Getting there. Ma’am, it’s nice to see you again.”

Lizzie got to her feet, but stayed by Lane. “You, too.”

“Well, I thought you’d like to know that I’m removing the seal on the controller’s office.” Merrimack smiled. “We have everything we need from there.”

“Good,” Lane said.

“We were wondering about that,” Lizzie murmured.

“Were you? What a coincidence.” The detective got a little pad out. “Now, I’d like a list of people who have access to the security sector of the computer network. Do you know who has that information?”

“Not a clue.” Lane shrugged. “I’m happy to ask the IT department at corporate. Maybe they know.”

“Or maybe your brother Edward knows.”

“Perhaps.”

“Tell me something, did he play a role in installation of the security programs?”

“I don’t know.” Okay, that was a lie. “Why?”

“You don’t know whether he did or he didn’t?”

“I haven’t been much involved with this household or the business until recently. So I can’t really tell you.”

“Okay.” The detective clapped the pad against his open palm. “I think I’ll just call your brother directly, then.”

“He doesn’t have a cell phone. But I can give him a message to get in touch with you.”

“No need. I know where he lives.” The detective looked around. “Sure is impressive in here.”

“It is.”

“You must miss your father.”

Anyone who was fooled by this casual, Columbo-esque routine was an idiot, Lane thought.

“Oh, of course. I miss him to distraction.”

“Father and son. It’s a special bond.”

“Yes.”

There was a pause, and when Lane didn’t take things paternal any further than that, Merrimack smiled again. “I heard your brother Max is home again. That’s kind of a surprise. It’s been a while since he’s been to Easterly, hasn’t it.”

“Yes.”

“But he’s been in Charlemont for a number of days.” As Lane frowned, the detective lifted a brow. “You didn’t know that? Really? Well, I’ve got a couple of witnesses who say he and Edward were together. The afternoon of the day your father died. Did you know about the two of them meeting up?”

Lane felt a curse shoot up his throat, but he kept it to himself by force of will. “That’s putting me on the spot, you realize.”

“Is it? It’s just a simple question.”

“No offense, Detective, but you’re conducting a homicide investigation. There are no simple questions coming from you.”