Faithless in Death (In Death, #52)(60)

“If we could come in.”

Idina stepped back.

The methodical banging came from a little girl on the floor of the living area banging a spoon on a pot to the beat—sort of—of the chiming music generated by a somewhat smaller boy who punched bright buttons on a cube.

A laundry basket sat on a table with most of the laundry in it folded. More toys scattered.

“Sasha, Harry, you mind the twins while Mommy talks to these ladies.”

She set down the twins, who immediately made their toddling way to the scattered toys.

Idina walked through and into the big kitchen/lounge area, where she could keep her eye on her brood.

“I was just eighteen, working toward my college tuition in the fall, when I met Gwen. I had a job with a family as a kind of baby-slash-dog sitter. Take the kids and dog to the park, feed them, entertain them, tidy up after them, that sort of thing. And I went along with them for their two weeks at the beach.”

“The Hamptons.”

“Yes, that’s right. I met Gwen. We were friendly. Then the two weeks were up, and I came back with the family. I haven’t seen or spoken to her since.”

“She states you were her first.”

Idina took a quiet breath in, let a quiet breath out. “I suspect I was. She was also mine. Euphemisms are important here,” she added, with a chin nod toward the kids.

“Understood. Who ended the friendship?”

“It just ended. We weren’t serious friends, if you know what I mean. Experimental friends. I was in a sensitive time in my life where I had made the decision never to marry or have children. I assume you know why.”

“Yes.”

“Then this family, this job. The kids, the dog, the happiness. I was young and torn and I met Gwen. She was engaging, wanted a friend, so that happened. Then it ended, and I went to college and thought, for a while, I could satisfy my love of children by teaching them. Then I met Anson. I don’t know what that brief, experimental friendship so long ago could have to do with the police now.”

“Were you aware that Gwen and her family were, and are, members of Natural Order?”

“Not back then, no. Of course I know now, as Anson and I are members.”

“And you’ve had no contact with her?”

“None. I’m pretty occupied, as you see. Becca, baby, we’ll fold the rest later,” she called out as one of the toddlers began pulling laundry from the basket. “Oh well. Is this about Natural Order, or Gwen, or what?”

“Gwen is a material witness in a homicide investigation.”

“Oh my God. Jasper, share those blocks with your sister.” Idina shoved a hand over her hair. “Someone’s dead?”

“Yes. We’re looking at any possible connection to Natural Order.”

“Okay, okay, give me a minute. Juice tubes!” she called out with incredible cheer that caused a small stampede into the kitchen.

She snugged the toddlers into some sort of seats that attached to the counter, and the two older kids at a tiny red table. They hooted, shouted out preferences, banged while she got the tubes and little bowls of tiny crackers or cookies, or something kid friendly.

“That’ll hold them for a few minutes.” She moved out of the kitchen into the lounge while the kids slurped, chattered, and made an unholy mess with the contents of the bowls.

“I have to be very careful here. I have four children to think of. My husband has his career as well as our family to think of. We’ve been planning how and when to ease out of the order. Anson had his reasons for joining, and he was my reason. But since the kids.”

She glanced back at them.

“It doesn’t reflect who we are now, our beliefs, our values. At the same time, the order puts food on our table, and they can be … proprietary.”

“That’s a word,” Eve said.

“He’s looking for another job, even if we have to move out of New York. We love this house, this neighborhood, but we’d move if that was best for our family.”

“Have you had trouble, threats?”

“No, absolutely not. And I’d tell you. For them.” She watched the kids toss tiny crackers at each other. “They’re our world. And if one of them, if all of them fell in love with someone who doesn’t look like us, or has the same gender, they’ll still be our world. We can’t be in the order and know that. Anson, he’s a lab rat—a really good one. He’ll find another job. And when the twins are old enough, I can go back to teaching. We’ll be fine.”

“Would your husband talk to us?”

“He would, if necessary. He’s not inside the circle, if you understand. He does his job, he comes home to his family. We don’t do a lot of socializing, not with other members. That’s overlooked, as we have four children. But Sasha will start school next fall, and she’ll be expected to attend one approved by the order, and begin weekly instructions.”

“What kind of instructions?”

“On the tenets of the order.” Her chin firmed. “We’re not going to allow that, not with our kids.”

“Are you afraid, Ms. Frank?” Peabody asked her.

“Apprehensive. If Anson and I feared for our kids, we’d already be gone. We’re not important enough to be afraid. Gwen would be, I think,” she added.