Katherine Hall Page - [Faith Fairchild Mystery 08] by The Body in the Fjord

Author:The Body in the Fjord
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-02-21T22:00:00+00:00

Seven

The farmer’s wife had set up long tables covered with bright checked cloths. There were platters of open-faced sandwiches, not all of them with gjetost, bowls of salads, and pitchers of beer and lemonade. At one table, there was a tempting array of the sweet pancakes, as well as fruit and pepperkaker—crisp ginger cookies—and a large bowl of some kind of grøt, with a pitcher of heavy cream standing by to block any parts of one’s arteries the rest had missed. The North Dakota farmers were still in the barn, shouting at their host, having a fine old time, but the rest of the tour descended upon the tables with all the appearance of people who have not eaten for days. Pix took a cautious bite of the house specialty and found that this goat cheese was not as sweet as the kind she’d tasted before. She wasn’t crazy about it, but she finished her sandwich. She was thinking about the farmer more than his product. Given that it was the same man who had been at Stalheim, what had he been doing there at such an odd time? Was it also the man she’d glimpsed running through the rain from the boat last night? She couldn’t swear it was the same voice. She’d been under the tarp, and the two men hadn’t been arguing. And what about the bearded man on Jennifer Olsen’s balcony? The same person again?

“What do you think of our cheese?” her hostess asked, causing Pix to start guiltily, although she wasn’t sure why. Maybe the woman’s husband had been delivering cheese to the hotel and arguing over the price or some such thing. It had still been light, and perhaps that was the best time for him to get away. As for the possibility of his being on the balcony—well, that was really a stretch.

“I think it’s an acquired taste,” Pix answered diplomatically.

“You are brave even to try it. Most people stick to the Jarlsberg I get from the supermarket.”

“It must be difficult to live in such an isolated place. When I run out of something, I jump in my car and run to the store. You can’t do that.”

“No, not really. But we buy what we don’t raise in large quantities. I haven’t had too many problems, and this is a good way for the children to grow up.”

“You said there were four generations here. There’s you and your husband, the children, and—”

Helene Feld joined them. She had steered clear of all the cheese and was contentedly munching on some salad.

“Yes, I was wondering about that, too.”

“My parents and my grandmother live here, too, but they leave in the summer for their hytte in the mountains. We were all born right over there”—she pointed to a small house—“and will die here, I suppose.” Her contented smile made that event seem a very, very long time away.

“And your husband? Is he from the area?” Pix was curious about the husband.

“Oh, no.” His wife laughed. “He is a city boy from the east coast.

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