Of

Course

 It’s

Murder

By Kate Sweeney

Of Course It’s Murder

© 2010 by Kate Sweeney

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

ISBN 10: 1-935216-11-2

ISBN 13: 978-1-935216-11-7

First Printing: 2010

This Trade Paperback Is Published By

Intaglio Publications

Walker, LA USA

www.intagliopub.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

_________________________________________________

Credits

Executive Editor: Tara Young

Cover design by Sheri

The Kate Ryan Series

She Waits

In the first of the Kate Ryan Mystery series, we find Kate Ryan, a middle-aged accident prone, ex-private investigator who stumbles into the lives of Dr. Maggie Winfield and her adorable Aunt Hannah thus becoming an unwitting participant in their tangled web of family secrets. The elusive Kate joins forces with the sarcastic Maggie as they become the nucleus for this ongoing series.

A Nice Clean Murder

Suspicions arise when an Irishman collapses on Kate’s doorstep. Kate agrees to accompany her family on a merry romp of murder and betrayal to the romantic, rugged coast of Ireland.

The Trouble With Murder

Something troublesome is happening on Kate’s lake: A violent storm leaves them isolated; a body washes up on the beach; too many suspects and no way out—that’s the trouble with murder.

Who’ll Be Dead For Christmas

Something very dark and dangerous is happening at University Hospital. Kate now fears for Maggie’s safety all the while wondering who’ll be dead for Christmas?

Dedication

I’d like to dedicate this book to the readers. When I started writing, I had no idea how my work would be received. And though I’m still a work in progress, having the support of fans and readers has made this such a wonderful journey for me. I have been very blessed. Thank you.

Acknowledgments

As always, many thanks to Denise Winthrop and to Jule and Tena for their constant support. And to my sister Maureen, whose artistry and ideas make it possible for Sheri, my cover artist, to come up with wonderful covers.

To Tara, my editor, who always does a great job.

And finally, to Sheri Payton. I admire her for the constant dedication she shows to writing and to Intaglio.

Prologue

Doug Townsend paid the vendor for the morning newspaper. He leaned against the newsstand and absently leafed through the paper.

She watched for a moment before walking toward him. As if sensing her nearness, he looked up and smiled. “Good morning, dear. How are you faring in the big city of Manhattan?”

“Good morning, Doug. How’s Simon?” she asked and picked up a newspaper.

“Completely happy. He’s sleeping,” he answered dryly.

If she laughed too heartily at the joke, Doug took no notice.

“You’re invited to dinner, don’t forget. Simon wants to officially welcome you to New York,” Doug said with a warm smile.

She winced inwardly. “I appreciate both of you taking me under your wing. I do feel lost at times.” She ran her fingers through her hair to emphasize her point, hoping he believed her.

Doug looked up from the paper and smiled. “You’re not lost if you have friends.” He patted her hand.

“Thanks, Doug, and thank Simon for me. I—”

Everyone heard the screeching tires and the roar of an engine. It happened so fast, yet seemed like slow motion. The black car careened toward them and jumped the curb. It hit the newsstand, then plowed into the small crowd. She felt someone push her from harm’s way, and she fell onto the sidewalk.

The car never stopped as it sped down the street and out of sight. In its wake, several people lay motionless. She was lying on the sidewalk, completely dazed. People were screaming and rushing to the injured strewn on the corner. That’s when she saw Doug. He was lying almost in the middle of the street, his leg and arm twisted grotesquely in a pool of blood.

“No!” she screamed. Frantically, she tried to get to him. Sirens wailed, and all at once, the police and fire departments were on the scene. She knelt beside Doug as his eyelids flickered. “Doug, please lay still.” She looked around at the chaos as he pulled at her sleeve. “You’ll be fine, please.”

Doug pulled her down to him. He whispered something she couldn’t make out.

“I didn’t hear you, Doug.”

“Tell Simon, the picture,” he whispered and coughed, writhing in pain. He looked up at her, his eyes pleading that she understand.

“What about the picture? Where is it?” she asked quickly and looked around. They were alone for the moment. She looked down into his eyes and saw the recognition in them. A pang of regret flashed through her—it was gone as quickly as it came. “Tell me, damn it,” she whispered angrily. She looked down and saw the confusion and pain in his eyes as he closed them.

“Not you,” Doug whispered. He made a pathetic attempt to sit up, but he only cried out in pain. She saw the pain and sadness as he whispered, “Simon…”

A paramedic quickly knelt beside her. “You can’t do anything for him, miss, please.” He moved her out of the way.

The paramedics asked a flurry of questions as they worked on Doug in a vain attempt to save him.

She barely heard them. Her thoughts were of Simon and the message she had to give him.

Chapter 1

“A jumbo chili-cheese dog.” I perused the menu board. “Oh, no onions. Oh, and an order of onion rings and a chocolate shake. Thanks.” I glanced at Maggie as she watched me with one elegantly arched eyebrow. “What?”

She shook her head and ordered. “I’ll have a broiled chicken sandwich, no mayo, and a raspberry iced tea.”

I rolled my eyes. “You can’t order raspberry iced tea at Wolfy’s.”

“I most certainly can,” she argued. “Why not?”

“Because it’s Chicago, and no one drinks raspberry—”

“Can you two argue in the other line?”

I turned to see an elderly man standing behind us. I opened my mouth as Maggie gently nudged me toward the pickup line. I nearly tripped over my boots with her gentle persuasion.

After paying, we took our feast to a booth by the window overlooking Lincoln Avenue. It was early March in Chicago, which meant only one thing—dirty snow.

“I can’t wait for spring.” As I struggled out of my down jacket, I looked around the floor.

“What did you lose?” Maggie asked as she slipped into the booth.

“My glove,” I said. “Damn it, I’m always losing one.”

“Maybe I should sew them to the cuff of your jacket,” she said with a sweet smile. Her dimples showed, making it hard for me to be angry.

“You can sew, but you can’t cook?” I sat down. I rubbed my hands together, my mouth watering in anticipation. It’d been a while since I’d been to Wolfy’s.

“No onions, but you ordered onion rings,” Maggie observed as she ate her pathetic-looking sandwich.

“Two different kinds of onions. One gives me heartburn, the other doesn’t,” I replied, not telling her how the chili would certainly affect me later. I took a healthy bite of my chili dog and closed my eyes, reveling in the steamy bun, the chili just spicy enough, and the wonderful Vienna hot dog. Oh, and the melted cheese. I’m not sure what kind of cheese it was. Probably Velveeta, which is not cheese, but I didn’t care. I opened my eyes to see Maggie watching me.

“You make it look so appetizing,” she said with a shake of her head.

“Do not tell me you’ve never had a chili-cheese dog.”

The blush Maggie hid in her disgusting raspberry iced tea told me she hadn’t. “Maggie, please, you have to have a bite.” I held out my treat and Maggie gave it a wary glance. “You won’t die.”

“Very funny.” Maggie took it out of my hand.

I watched with a grin as she took a bite. When her eyes rolled back in her head, I reached over and took the lonely chicken sandwich. At least it had a tomato on it.

I guess this is love.

As Maggie finished the chili dog, she sat back. “Boy, you were right, that was good. Although I wouldn’t want to eat that every day, it was a wonderful treat.”

“Everything in moderation.” I finished off the last onion ring, though I did offer it to Maggie, who graciously declined.

“So,” she said in that voice I’ve grown accustomed to, “what should we do with the rest of our day?” She sported a very seductive grin, my doctor did.

I sucked on the straw in my chocolate shake so hard, I nearly impaled it on the roof of my mouth.

“You will kill me one day,” I said with a wheeze. We were lying on the living room floor in front of the fireplace, which crackled nicely.

“You’re just out of shape,” Maggie whispered and kissed my shoulder. “Too many chili dogs.”

Maggie was wrapped around me like a second skin; she cuddled the down quilt around us and sighed as her hand wandered down my body. “Enough.” I grabbed her hand, holding it against my chest.

“Party poop,” she said with a laugh.

I glanced over to see my poor dog lying under the chair next to us, just watching. “I think we traumatized Chance.”

Maggie looked back and laughed again. “Poor thing.” She looked at the clock on the mantel. “Wow, we missed dinner. It’s nearly bedtime. I should be going.”

“Why? Aren’t you going to stay?”

Maggie sat up and swiped her auburn hair away from her face. “I haven’t been asked.”

I groaned and turned on my side to face her. “You haven’t, huh? What the hell kind of woman is she?” I reached over and traced the outline of her breast with my fingertips. “She must be a bore.”

Maggie laughed. “Well, not really. She’s actually a wonderful woman.” She stopped and closed her eyes as her breathing hitched. I grinned and continued my caress. “She-she can be very romantic.”

“Really?” I asked, reveling in this game we played.

She nodded. “And very sensual.”

“What’s her problem then?” As I watched Maggie, I thought of how she had stolen my heart. I hoped to God she was a horrible, rotten thief and never gave it back.

“She’s a little scared.” Maggie leaned back on her elbows. She threw her head back and moaned as my hand wandered down her torso.

“What’s she scared of, do you think?” I gently pulled the quilt from her body.

“Herself, I think.” Maggie looked at me when I gently pulled my hand away.

“She sounds like a whack job.” I abruptly stood, gathering my clothes. I slipped into my sweats and threw on my shirt.

Maggie stood in front of me. “She…” She stopped and shook her head. “You are not a whack job.” When I didn’t answer, she pulled at my arm. “Look at me.”

“No.”

I heard her chuckle quietly and I looked down into her blue eyes; they constantly sparkled.

“You said you loved me.” She motioned to the doorway. “At Christmas, right under the mistletoe.”

“I was caught up in the moment.” I grinned. “You temptress.”

The contagious laughter started and I joined her. “Think of all the temptation you’ll have if I moved in.”

For some reason, I felt as though someone dropped an anvil on my chest. I was about to have an anxiety attack. My body froze, and unfortunately, so did my brain. “What do you mean?”

Maggie looked at me. “About what?”

“Moving in,” I said and backed up.

“What are you talking about?” She picked up the pillows and the quilt. She gave me an exasperated look. “Kate, don’t worry.” She stopped and cocked her head. “While we’re on the subject.”

“We’re not,” I said quickly. Suddenly, the room got smaller and my chest felt like it was in a vise.

Maggie looked genuinely hurt, which made me feel even worse. But I was on a mission now. You know how you start falling and you can’t stop? You know you’re gonna hit the bottom and you just watch in slow motion as you keep falling…

“I know we weren’t.”

“Maybe we need some time here. Ya know, time to regroup.” Now that sounded logical. “We’ve just started this, Maggie. I…we’re not ready to live together,” I said, falling.

Maggie glared now. “I didn’t say—”

“No, but it’s what you’re thinking.”

“And what’s wrong with thinking?”

“It, well, it leads to other things.” I winced. I had no idea what I was saying. All I knew was I was petrified.

“Yes, Kate.” Maggie started dressing. “Thinking is a horrible thing. I wouldn’t want you to tax your brain pan.”

“Sarcasm is not necessary,” I said. “You bully.”

Maggie whirled around with her shoe in her hand.

“And don’t throw that at me again.” I pointed to the shoe. “Last month when you hurled one at me, I had a lump on my head for two weeks.”

“To match the other ones,” she said rudely and sat down. She put on her stylish shoes and grabbed her coat. “You coward.”

I gaped at her. “Oh, yeah? Well, you big bully, you have a Napoleon complex.”

I honestly thought she was going to spontaneously combust. Oddly, I looked down to see Chance, still under the chair, watching Maggie breathe like a bull. However, she calmly took a deep breath and let it out very slowly as she struggled into her coat. I watched, saying nothing, as she angrily yanked on her black kid gloves.

She opened the door and turned to me then. “Blow it out your ass, Kate.”

I winced as the door slammed.

So this is love.

The clock radio went flying off the nightstand as I grabbed for the phone, nearly falling out of bed.

“What? What?” I grumbled angrily.

“Kate Ryan, wake up you lazy woman,” my editor barked into the phone.

“Connie, what the hell do you want?” I asked helplessly as I looked at the clock. “Damn it, it’s only six thirty. You always do this to me.”

“Quit your bellyaching and get in here by nine. I’ve got an assignment for you. I need a photographer and an events planner who can decorate. You, by the way, are the photographer. Know anyone who will freelance and decorate?”

“Decorate what?” I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and yawned.

“Rooms at a bed and breakfast. I’ll tell you when you get here. This is all last-minute bullshit, but when you meet the owner, you’ll understand.”

I tossed down the phone and sat on the edge of the bed. “What a colossal pain in my ass.” Then I looked to the other side of the bed where I had hoped to find Maggie, only to see Chance, my loyal canine, snoring next to me; her head rested comfortably on the pillow.

Maggie obviously was not there. I screwed that up nicely when she had left in a quiet huff the night before. I ran my fingers through my short graying hair as I remembered the frustration in her blue eyes. Dr. Maggie Winfield showed me her fiery temper once again. Then I remembered the string of expletives from the diminutive doctor.

Two months earlier, at Christmas, both of us realized we were far beyond the gravity of Planet Platonica. Actually, that happened months before at my cabin, but Christmas was different. The fact that Maggie was nearly poisoned sent a wake-up call that shook me beyond belief. This whole “love” situation was completely natural for Maggie the Sure, but for me, Kate the Petrified, it was, well, petrifying.

I looked back at Chance. “I know I told her I loved her,” I said, still in awe that that was possible. “I meant it.”

I suppose I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that Dr. Maggie Winfield of Cedar Lake, Illinois, may love me. I just didn’t get it, and if I asked her one more time, I was afraid she may strangle me.

“I know Maggie understands my apprehension,” I said to Chance, who sneezed. “God bless you. Maggie knew I fell deeply in love with Liz, who unfortunately for me, turned out to be a crazed murderess.” I shook my head as I sat on the edge of the bed. Chance snored behind me, the lazy cur. “She understood how close I came to having my head cleanly sliced off. Maggie understands my fear, Chance.

“She didn’t have to call me a coward,” I said to my dog, who was now just looking at me. “Though I suppose it didn’t help matters by saying she had a Napoleon complex.” I stopped and laughed. I got some perverse pleasure out of seeing the good doctor’s fiery temper—what a peculiar relationship we were starting.

In any event, it was a highly evolved and intelligent conversation. At least she didn’t throw anything this time, I thought, always one to find the bright side. Though when she did the previous month, Maggie clipped me nicely with a shoe. And not just any shoe—a Jimmy Choo shoe. I’ve come to know in these short two months that when Dr. Maggie Winfield is truly angry, she doesn’t throw just any ole shoe. It’s the top of the line or nothing. That’s what coming from money does to you.

“Throwing things is so childish.” I stood and stretched. “Though she’s angry, I know Maggie will understand. We need to regroup, Chance. We have to think about this.”

Satisfied that I had everything solved, which sent a shiver down my spine, I made my way to the bathroom and looked out the window. It was early March but still freezing. The frigid air blew into the Windy City of Chicago and along with it the snow. I felt the jagged scar on the back of my neck and winced.

“I am the human barometer,” I said and stepped into the shower.

The hideous buzz from my doorbell had me tripping over my jeans as I zipped them. Chance barked all the way as she ran to the front door.

“Okay, okay,” I said while toweling my wet head. I yanked the door open to see Hannah standing there, a maniacal look on her face and her finger poised for yet another buzz.

“Saved by the bell,” she said in a cheerful voice. She looked down at Chance, who barked her welcome. “And hello, my little furry friend. I haven’t seen you in a while.” She bent down and ruffled Chance’s head and ears.

“Hey, Hannah.” I stepped back. “What brings you downtown so early in the morning?”

Hannah gave me a maternal glare as she walked in; I kissed the offered cheek. “I’m on my way to meet a friend for breakfast, and I knew you’d be up. I talked to Margaret last night. She seemed a little miffed at a certain wildlife photographer.” I took her coat and hung it in the hall closet. “I wonder who she was talking about.”

I grunted sarcastically. “Your niece is very stubborn.”

“This I know. Coffee?”

“Sure.” I led Hannah down the hall to the kitchen. She sat at the table and said nothing while I poured two cups and sat opposite her.

Her watery blue eyes, like Maggie’s, sparkled while she waited for me to say something.

“Cream?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“You look very nice.” I felt like Eddie Haskell to Mrs. Cleaver; it was a lame attempt, but true. The blue in her wool pantsuit accentuated her silver hair and blue eyes. She looked like a million bucks. And as I’d said before, if this is Maggie in her golden years, I am truly a lucky woman.

“Thank you, dear. Now tell me what happened.”

I ran my fingers through my damp hair and sat back. “Nothing.”

“Hogwash. Try again.” She peered over the top of her cup.

“Maggie left in a huff last night because she didn’t get her way.”

Hannah raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Continue…”

She was not going to let this go—stubbornness runs amok in the Winfield family. I drank my coffee, trying to think of a way out of this. There was none. “She called me a coward and told me to blow it out my ass. She got mad because I said she had a Napoleon complex.”

“Oh, dear, that was not a smart move, Kate.” Hannah shook her head sadly.

“Your niece is a bully,” I said. “She called me a coward.”

“And why are you a coward?”

“I’m not a coward,” I said with as much confidence as a coward could muster.

Hannah hid her grin in her cup. “Kate the Petrified.”

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. These Winfield women would be the death of me.

“What did she want that she didn’t get?”

“Nothing really,” I said. “She wanted to talk about stuff and I—”

Hannah quickly reached across the table. I obediently extended my hand. She held my hand tight and gave me a horrified look. “Oh, my God. Margaret wanted to talk? Say it ain’t so!”

I glared at this compassionate woman, then nodded. “I don’t know why she bothers. Hell, Hannah, I told her I loved her at Christmas, and I’m not sure I should have.”

“Hogwash.”

“You said that already.”

“What else happened? I can’t imagine Margaret getting that upset to walk out.”

“I…I told her we needed time away from each other—”

“Already?”

I ignored her incredulous tone. “To regroup,” I added, trying to explain.

Hannah patted my hand and sat back. She looked at me, and I got extremely nervous when she didn’t say anything. So I drank my coffee and waited. “Have you talked to her this morning?”

“It’s only seven. You know your niece.”

“True,” Hannah conceded with a laugh. “You know you have to talk about this sometime. Now tell me what you have planned for the day.”

“I have to go to the office. Connie, my editor, has an assignment for me. She also needs a freelance something. Oh, an event planner or decorator. I guess for some bed and breakfast.”

Hannah nodded and drank her coffee. Then she grinned. “How about Hester?”

The name sounded familiar, then it struck me. Hester Worsley was Hannah’s assistant who organized the Christmas benefit. I remembered seeing her. “Tall, redhead?”

“Yes, the one you followed down the stairs. I never understood why you did that.”

“She reminded me of someone,” I said absently, trying to remember whom. Now the hair on the back of my neck bristled. I quickly scratched the scar there and shivered. I looked up to see Hannah watching me with interest.

“What’s wrong?”

I laughed and shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s something about her I can’t place. Anyway, can you call Hester and see if she’s available? I won’t know any particulars until I see Connie at nine. Have her call Connie if she’s interested.”

Hannah finished her coffee and stood. “I’ll call her on my way to breakfast. Give me your editor’s number.”

I followed her down the hall and stopped by the phone on the desk in the hallway. Miraculously finding a pen, I scribbled Connie’s number on a piece of paper.

She turned to me after I helped her with her coat and took the number. “I’ll call Hester. You call Margaret.” She pulled me down for a kiss on the cheek. “You love each other. This is new for both of you.”

“No kidding,” I said and kissed her in return. “I…I love you, too, ya know.”

Hannah smiled and patted my cheek. “Hey, Teri and Mac are back from Ireland. Have you talked to your sister about this?”

I frowned deeply. “No. I…Teri…”

“Makes you think too much. Go talk to her, Kate.”

“You women drive me nuts.” For some reason, an overwhelming nostalgic feeling swept through me. I shrugged and said nothing.

Hannah smiled and kissed me on the lips. “I know. It’s hard not to love a Winfield, isn’t it?” She winked, and after petting Chance, she walked out. “Go see Teri and call Margaret.”

I stood on Teri’s doorstep and knocked on the door. Within a moment or two, Mac answered. His hair tousled, his sweatpants bagging, he smiled and scratched his beard.

“Hey, Sherlock.”

“Hey, Mac.”

“C’mon in. We were just having coffee.”

I followed him down the hall and smiled as Teri looked up. Her blue eyes sparkled. Where Mac was disheveled, Teri was the picture of a lady in waiting. Her red hair was perfectly coiffed; she wore a girly robe as she sat at the kitchen table.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” she said with her patent wonderful smile. God, how I missed her.

“You guys spent too much time in Ireland. Good grief.” I threw myself into the chair opposite her.

She raised an eyebrow and glanced at Mac, who poured a cup of coffee and set it in front of me.

“Kate, we’ve been back for two months. I would have called, but you and Maggie have been a little busy.”

I frowned deeply and spooned the sugar, poured the cream in my coffee, and stirred…and stirred. “That doesn’t mean I can’t spend time with you guys. Geesh, I used to come over here every day and we’d…do stuff.”

Teri raised the other eyebrow and pushed the plate of scones in front of me, then the jam. I grunted as I picked up the jar. “Strawberry rhubarb,” I said. “When did you get this? We used to go all the time…” Once again, my voice trailed off.

“What’s wrong?” Teri asked. I heard her quiet tone.

Mac sat next to Teri and picked up the paper. He glanced at me before he hid behind the sports section.

“Nothing,” I said indignantly and lathered the jam on the scone. “Does something have to be wrong? I just wanted to spend time with you, that’s all.”

I could feel Teri’s eyes on me while I drank my coffee. I looked at Mac, who was enthralled with the Tribune.

“How’s Maggie?” Teri asked in the soft concerned tone that I loved.

“Okay,” I said with a shrug and took a healthy bite.

“What happened, Katie?”

When she calls me Katie, I’m done. “Nothing,” I insisted. The deafening silence was killing me. I looked up at Teri with those big knowing blue eyes and tossed the wonderful warm jam-laden scone on the plate.

“She wants us to live together,” I blurted out. “Then when I suggested we regroup and think logically about this, she called me a coward.”

Mac shifted behind the safety of the morning paper, saying nothing. Teri gave me that look I foolishly thought had died with our mother—no such luck. “Logic?” Teri asked. “There is no logic in love, Kate.”

“How can that be?” I took a bite of the scone. “For godsake, do you have to forget all logic and sensibility for love?”

“Yes,” Mac said behind the paper. I glared at the sports section and drank my coffee.

Teri hid her grin in her coffee cup, then looked out the window at the late winter morning. “You’ve been through a great deal in the past years. Sometimes I don’t know how you survived. Mentally or physically. You spent nearly three months in a hospital recuperating.” She looked back at me then and smiled. “But you did. And you started living again. It started when you met Maggie and Hannah. You solved the murder of Maggie’s mother. We had a scary romp in Ireland with hidden treasures. Mac’s uncle, Brian, Peter Sullivan, who is all the rage with the Irish government these days. Oh, and Bridget Donnelly, now there was a nutcase.”

I listened to Teri. She was right, as usual. It was annoying, but there was no getting around it. It was a long road back from that night with Liz Eddington and my PI business. My anxiety attacks were less frequent, thanks to Maggie.

“They never found her body,” Mac said and put down the paper.

My head shot up as Mac reached for his coffee. “What made you think of that?” 

Mac shrugged and scratched his graying beard. “I dunno.” He looked at Teri. “Remember right before we came home, we had dinner with Rory and Anne?” He then said to me, “You remember them. He runs the woolen mill.”

I nodded but said nothing, waiting for him to continue. My heart raced at the memory of Bridget and how we struggled by that cave in Ireland. She had a gun, but my only thought was Maggie, who was calling me. It may have been foolish, but I leapt at Bridget and we both fell headlong into the Atlantic. I remember the underwater struggle. I remember the gun going off and a muffled cry.

“Rory said the police are no longer looking for her body. It has never washed up anywhere on the coast of Ireland. It’s as if she…”

As Mac’s voice trailed off, we sat there not saying a word. I knew they were thinking of that time, as well. Bridget had all of us fooled.

“She has to be dead,” Teri said softly and looked at me.

I wasn’t so sure and I didn’t know why.

It was only nine in the morning and I had talked to Hannah. I talked to Teri and Mac. I had done more talking and listening and still, I hadn’t called Maggie. I rationalized it was better not to wake the sleeping bear, which I surmised was Maggie. It was better this way, I thought logically. Give her time to cool off. I shook my head as I stepped out of the elevator on the eleventh floor. I was petrified of a confrontation with Maggie. Maybe I was a coward.

I walked down into our bustling office, nearly running into Mike, one of our photographers.

“Sorry, Kate, Connie’s on the warpath. You’d better behave,” he said with wicked grin.

“Wonderful,” I grumbled and sat at my small desk. I really didn’t need a desk as I was rarely in the office. Just long enough to get my assignment and scram. I absently leafed through the mail when I heard her door open.

“Is Ryan here yet?”

I rolled my eyes and waved the mail in her direction. “Coming, Mother,” I called with a grin.

She smiled slightly through her glare. She stepped aside and bowed. “If you please, Ms. Ryan,” she offered. I laughed as I preceded her into her large office.

“Please, have a seat.”

I gave her a wary look. I cautiously looked at the chair, then lifted it, waiting for a leg to fall off. The whoopee cushion had to be somewhere.

“You’re a suspicious gal, Ryan,” Connie said as the cigarette dangled out of her mouth. “Coffee, cream and sugar, right?”

I narrowed my eyes. “All right, who are you and what have you done with my editor?” I took the steaming cup. “Have I been fired?”

Connie laughed and nearly coughed up a lung. “As if I could. No, like I said, I’ve got an assignment for you.”

“Some bed and breakfast, where? I’m ready for a long one.”

I noticed the curious look Connie gave me. “Nothing like that. The bed and breakfast is in Seaview, Connecticut. The owner needs some photos for the local gentry,” she said in a haughty air.

“I’ve never heard of it. Why not send Mike, he does that sort of thing,” I asked suspiciously and looked at Connie, who chuckled. “What’s going on in that editorial head of yours?”

“The owner is an old friend. Hell, I was married to his worthless cousin at one point,” she started.

“Which one was he?”

Connie glared at me through the smoke. “Number four, but who’s counting?”

“Again, why not send Mike?”

“I’ve noticed lately that you’re not yourself. You have that faraway look in your eye as if you’re ready to run off to parts unknown. Now I don’t know what’s going on in love land. Though I can’t imagine how much trouble you could get yourself into. It’s only been a couple months for you and the good doctor, but I think it might be affecting your work. So take a week and get away from it all.”

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, then stood and paced in front of Connie’s desk. I looked at Connie, who rolled her eyes. “Let the ritual begin. I have come to learn that when you’re confounded or stumped, you pace like a caged lion—”

“I don’t need a mother,” I said rudely and realized what I said.

“Fine, then do it because I’m your boss and I’m telling you.”

I looked at Connie and knew I may have offended. “I-I’m sorry. I know you mean well. It’s just that Maggie and I are trying to get comfortable with each other,” I said and angrily sat down. “Right?” I finished helplessly.

Connie chuckled and shook her head. “Oh, Ryan, for the first time in your life, you can’t run away to your cabin or go on a long assignment. You’re stuck, really stuck.” Connie laughed gently. “Love... Never thought you’d be stuck in it at your age? Or is it that you never thought you could attract someone like the doctor?”

I scowled at my little editor. “Why do I tell you anything?” I sat and drank my coffee.

Connie gave me an affectionate pat on the head as she walked around to her desk.

“Maggie is smart. She’s young, attractive, and a doctor, for chrissakes,” I said, answering Connie’s question. “How in the world could I ever—” I stopped. “Maybe we’re just not cut out for the relationship part of this. She’s too good. She needs somebody who... Besides, sometimes she gets mad at me for the long assignments.” I stopped, knowing I sounded childish.

“That’s because you usually come back all banged up. If only you’d master the art of walking and chewing gum at the same time.” She sighed thoughtfully, as if contemplating the idea. “And you’re not getting any younger, kiddo. She’s worried about you. Although after what you two have been through in the past couple of years, you’d think she’d be used to it by now,” Connie conceded.

“Exactly,” I exclaimed, seizing the moment. “I can’t change the way I am,” I said defiantly. “Not for anyone.”

“She’s not the outdoorsy type, that’s true.” Connie watched me as I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “You belong in the woods, you nature freak.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said helplessly and paced again. “Do I have to change my whole life? I can’t be fenced in. I’d go nuts!” I exclaimed as I ran my fingers through my hair.

“You’re already nuts. Let’s get back to the matter at hand. My ex-cousin-in-law Simon Merriweather bought a monstrosity that he’s trying to turn into an inn. He needs winter photos for the chamber of commerce. It may help get the Seaview Inn off to a good start,” she said hopefully. “Simon is an old woman.”

I saw the affectionate smile and wondered who this guy was.

“I told him not to buy that white elephant. Now he’s stuck,” she said gruffly and took a long drag from her cigarette. I saw the affectionate smile turn to a pensive gaze.

“What’s the problem, Connie?” I asked, now completely intrigued.

Connie blinked and took a deep breath. “Simon is gay, Kate. His partner of nearly twenty years was killed about a year ago. Simon was devastated as you can imagine. I spoke with him earlier. His life is so empty without Doug. Twenty years is a long time with one man. He told me…” Connie said, then laughed. “Not that you would know anything about this, Ryan, but he told me I go through men like he used to before Doug.”

“You said you were married to his cousin?”

“Yes, I was married to him for three long, long years. When I finally caught him with some young thing, I’d had enough. It was an amicable divorce. I threatened him with dismemberment if he contested—Roger said fine.”

“Do you ever see him?” I asked. Connie and I had never had an in-depth and personal conversation like this. I was wondering where this was leading.

“No, the worthless—” she started, then took a deep calming breath. “I believe Roger’s more of a disappointment to the family than Simon is. And trust me, Simon’s family is gravely disappointed in him,” she said sadly and looked at me. “Neither his mother nor his father thought it the least bit amusing that he’s gay. So he kept to himself, but he surrounded himself mostly with women who adored him. It was like having three older sisters to look out for him. ‘The girls,’ as he affectionately calls them, grew up with Simon and took him under their maternal wings. They love him more than his own parents.”

“What happened to his partner, Doug was it?” 

“They started an antique shop in upper Manhattan and lived there for almost twenty years. Actually, Doug started it. Simon didn’t care what they did as long as they were together. You see, Doug was a worker bee and Simon the...queen. It was a match made in heaven until, tragically, Doug was killed by a hit-and-run driver last year while standing on a corner reading the paper. He never regained consciousness and Simon was quietly destroyed.

“He sold the antique business and had the wild idea of opening a bed and breakfast. Poor Simon was not good with ideas. It usually meant a headache for all concerned because it meant work for Simon.”

We laughed, and once again, I saw the affection flash across Connie’s face.

“Now look, you’ve been invited for a few days,” Connie started and explained the situation. “He’s having ‘the girls’ to the grand opening before he gets any real business. Emily, Kathleen, and, of course, Rebecca, Doug’s sister, will be there for the rest of the weekend. Also, Helen will be there—his cousin and my ex-sister-in-law. She’s a pain.” Connie shrugged and continued, “Oh, I received a call from a Hester Worsley. Says she can do the job of getting Simon’s inn ready for you. Says she knows Hannah Winfield and you.” She looked up from the paper she studied. “True?”

“She is Hannah’s assistant and pretty much takes care of running the benefits Hannah is involved with. Ya know, getting the dinner ready, the invitations, stuff like that, I guess. As for knowing me? Not really, we…we almost met at the Christmas benefit…”

Again, this woman nagged at me. I shook my head. “Anyway, Hannah seems to think she can do it with no problem.”

“That’s what I felt when I talked to her. She told me she had family north of Connecticut and this will fit in her plans nicely. She’s already on the plane to Simon’s inn. Hopefully, she’ll be done with her part so when you get there, all you’ll have to do is take the photos. Maybe have a little time to relax.”

“I don’t need—”

“Go, your plane leaves tomorrow morning. Remember, I know these people, so behave. You’ll have to sleep in a bed, not a sleeping bag, and in a room, not a tent. So don’t embarrass me. Just go and relax for a few days. No murder, no mayhem, no…women,” she finished lightly.

“Very funny,” I grumbled as I walked to the door.

“Just take photos like a normal photographer. If that’s possible,” she mumbled under her breath as she pushed me out the door.

“Have a nice relaxing visit to New England,” she ordered and closed the door.

I stood on the other side.

“Relax,” Connie barked from her office.

“Relax,” I repeated and headed for the elevator.

Chapter 2

Summoning every ounce of courage I had, I took the elevator to Maggie’s high-rise apartment wondering what I was going to say to her and hoping she wasn’t going to throw something at me. I took a deep breath as I rang the bell. After a moment, she opened the door. I was smiling like the idiot I was.

“I thought you needed time alone. Are you lost?” Maggie asked, sarcasm oozing from every pore. She stood by her front door.

This was not going to be easy. “May I come in?”

Maggie hesitated. I could tell she wanted to slam the door in my face; she looked that angry. However, she looked up into my eyes, and I saw the angry look soften as she stepped back.

We stood by the door for a moment in an awkward silence. Finally, Maggie turned and walked into the living room.

“I just stopped by to tell you I’ve got a photo assignment. My flight leaves in the morning.”

Maggie turned to me, then let out a sarcastic snort. “Boy, when you need to run, you need to run. Where to this time?” She let out a sigh of resignation I tried to ignore.

I explained the situation of Connie’s cousin Simon. Maggie shook her head sadly. “That’s sad. Twenty years with the same person.” She then looked at me. “Do you suppose we’ll ever know what that’s like?” she asked in her direct manner that will always catch me off-guard.

I said nothing and Maggie chuckled. “At least you can relax for a few days and not be gallivanting all over the place. Hey, you might even come back in one piece,” she offered with a smug grin.

“Look, it’s what I do. I can’t take wildlife photos if I’m indoors.”

“Please, you’d hurt yourself standing still.”

“It’s my life. I’ll live it the way I want, thank you very much. I’m not changing for you or anybody,” I said and angrily paced back and forth. Why was I getting so angry?

“Who asked you to change for me?” Maggie shook her head and continued, “Boy, you can be the most egotistical woman…”

We glared at each other like angry bulls. Maggie then turned and walked into her bedroom and came back with a couple of sweaters. She rudely tossed them in my direction.

I plucked them out of the air, still glaring.

“You left them here.”

“Where’s my flannel?” I asked. What was the matter with me? I knew Maggie loved to wear it. In the past two months, she developed a fondness for it. She wore it last Christmas. I’d never worn it since. How could I when she loved it?

I waited for the temper, but it didn’t come. Instead, Maggie gave me a sad look. “If I ever give that back…that, Kate Ryan, will be that and you’ll never see me again.”

I saw the tears well in her eyes, and I winced. I stood there staring at the sweaters.

“Have a nice trip.” Maggie sighed and turned from me.

I walked up behind her and reached out for her, then stopped and stood there.

“Go, Kate. Run, jump, fly, do whatever you have to do to avoid this,” she said. “You’ll probably break a leg in the process.”

I turned her around to me. “Maggie, I wish you’d understand—”

Maggie, it would seem, had enough. She grabbed my shirt and shook me, letting out an exasperated screech. My eyes widened in horror, hoping my ears wouldn’t start bleeding; every dog in the neighborhood must have been howling.

“I do understand and you know it!” Maggie said angrily.

I winced. Maggie’s left eye was twitching—a portend of death. “Maggie,” I started.

Maggie ran her fingers through her long thick hair as if she were pulling it out. “Kate, you’re driving me crazy. If you don’t want me, then let’s be done with this.”

I heard the challenging tone in her voice. “Why does it always have to be all or nothing? It’s not that simple, you know. And I do want you.”

I looked down into her eyes and swallowed with difficulty. Maggie was still holding my shirt. “I know getting over Liz and that time is hard for you,” she said and caressed the scar on the back of my neck. “But I also know you, and this will be as complicated or as simple as you make it.”

I let out a loud groan. “What the hell does that mean? Do you think I like complications? Damn it, you can get me more aggravated than any two people I know. We’ve only just started this relationship, Maggie, and now you’ve got us living together and....” I took a deep breath, not knowing where I was going with this.

“That’s what your scrambled brain heard, Kate. Last night, I only said I was thinking of us and how it would be to live together. I will remember in the future to tread lightly, lest you have a stroke at the mere mention.”

We stood there for a moment looking at each other. Finally, Maggie sighed. “Kate Ryan, what am I going to do with you?” She reached up and laid her hand on my cheek. There goes my heart, I thought. She pulled me down to her, gently kissing me. I groaned, knowing I was helpless with this woman, and wrapped my arms around her waist, returning her kiss.

It had been so many years since I let anyone into my heart. Now with just a lousy kiss, here I was sighing like an adolescent on her first date.

My body trembled as I held Maggie. I pulled back and swallowed convulsively. Maggie smiled and slipped her hand up to my neck, lightly brushing over my breast on the way. I groaned deeply. “You did that on purpose,” I whispered as my body temperature went up several degrees. “Is it hot in here?” My voice came out in a squeak.

“Only where we’re standing,” Maggie said. I was glad to hear the hitch in her voice. “We should do something about that, Miss Ryan,” she whispered as she kissed my chin.

I closed my eyes and moaned. “Come to New England with me,” I whispered. I felt the warm lips leave and I opened my eyes.

“What?” Maggie stared up at me and I had to laugh at the dumbfounded look on her face.

“You heard me. Geez, don’t make me repeat it.”

“You want me to come with you?” she asked as if I didn’t really mean it, which of course I did, which of course scared me to death. “You want me to go with you? You’ll be working. Maybe I shouldn’t, Miss Ryan,” she said with a coy smile. The little…

“And why not?” I asked, trying my best to be suave; it was so not working.

“Won’t I be a distraction?” Maggie asked, tracing my jaw with her fingertips.

“Probably.”

“Last night, you said we needed to regroup.”

“Yes, I did.” I pulled at the collar of my sweater. Maggie raised an eyebrow and stepped up to me. I backed up quickly and ran into the arm of her couch.

Maggie had a look in her eye I could not decipher and it scared the crap out of me. “Regroup for what reason?” She stood between my legs.

I swallowed so hard I thought I’d choke myself. “Well,” I started logically. “You’re just so sure and I’m just so…petrified.” I finished with a nervous laugh.

Maggie ran her fingers through my hair and I groaned. I felt her nails gently scratching my scalp, and I believe I became a useless puddle right there on the arm of the couch.

“Do you trust me, Kate?” she whispered as I closed my eyes.

“Yes,” I answered obediently as if I were under her spell, snake charmer that she was.

“Do you trust your heart?” She asked the million-dollar question and kissed my lips.

I felt the warm, soft lips against mine, and my body trembled. I pulled back. “I’m trying, Maggie,” I said as honestly as I knew how.

Maggie cupped my face and smiled. “That’s all I ask for,” she said and kissed my forehead. “Now what time is our flight?”

“Ten in the morning,” I said with a grin. “But I don’t think you’ll have time to get a flight.”

“Where’s your ticket?” Maggie asked. She picked up the phone and pressed a button. “Renee? Maggie Winfield. I’m fine, and you? Good. Look, can you do a favor for me? I need two tickets to…?” She stopped and looked at my gaping face.

I was still thinking about how she had her travel agent on speed dial. “Um...” I fumbled in my breast pocket for my ticket.

“Never mind.” Maggie took the ticket out of my hand. “New Haven, first class…”

My eyes bugged out of my head. I didn’t hear another word Maggie said after “first class.” She hung up the phone and sported a wide grin as she walked up to me.

“One small hitch. We leave at three thirty. Now you go home and pack. I’ll do the same.”

“I’m not going to need all day to pack.” I grinned and kissed her. “But I know you will. It’s only for a few days, Maggie. Please don’t pack a steamer trunk.”

“Very funny. Why don’t you try a suitcase instead of a duffel bag?”

“Touché.” I pulled her into my arms. I teasingly unbuttoned the top of her blouse. “Now I have the rest of the day off, Dr. Winfield. Have you ordered an oxygen tank for me?”

Maggie let out a genuine laugh and she pulled me down the hall.

She thought I was kidding.

I heard the horn honking as I neatly stuffed my remaining clothes into my duffel. I set it by the front door and finished lacing my boots. I had just slipped into my coat when someone knocked at the door. Chance, my loyal canine, hid behind the chair, which was her regular routine. I stopped and gave her a pleading look. “Don’t look at me like that. Mac and Teri will come later to take you for a little vacation with them. You love them. They’ll spoil you and I’ll get you back two pounds heavier and lazy. Now stop.”

Now the doorbell sounded.

“Okay, okay,” I said and opened the door.

There stood a tall blond woman dressed in a dark suit. “Miss Ryan?” She smiled slightly, picked up my duffel as I nodded, and without another word, started down the stairs.

“Uh,” I said as I quickly looked back at Chance. “See ya, behave.” I locked the door and followed her. I stumbled slightly on the bottom step. “Miss, uh…”

As I walked out of my brownstone, I saw a black limo. The back window slowly rolled down.

Maggie sported a seductive grin I had yet to see. “Hey, gorgeous, need a ride?”

I stood there for a moment, gaping at her smiling face. The limo driver slammed the trunk and opened the passenger door.

“Kate, just get in,” Maggie said, shaking her head.

“Is this yours?” I asked, hiding my grin. I noticed her doing the same.

“Yes, I needed to take it out for a drive. I would have picked you up in the Bentley, but Aunt Hannah is using it this weekend.”

“I guess this will have to do.”

Maggie laughed; it was then I noticed how she was dressed and raised an eyebrow. She wore a long black leather coat, matching gloves and, oh yes, purse. Black wool slacks and a white turtleneck rounded out her wardrobe. She looked so…sexy was the only word that came to mind.

I glanced down at my Levi’s, hiking boots, and suede jacket. My gloves matched, that must count for something. At least I was wearing new underwear. Jockey, of course. What an unlikely pair we made.

 “Would you like something to drink?” She opened the small cabinet across from her. She took out a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

I so tried not to look like a stupefied kid. “Sure,” I said with an air of maturity.

Maggie filled a glass, handed it to me. “I think a toast would be fitting right about now,” she said and filled the other glass.

I looked into the blue eyes and couldn’t help but wonder what in the world Dr. Maggie Winfield wanted with the likes of me. A middle-aged—well, beyond middle-aged—woman with a defunct private investigations business who is now a nature photographer and who doubles as a barometer when my neck and back ache.

“Well,” I started and Maggie shook her head. She reached over and put her fingertips against my lips.

“Please, let me,” she said. I felt my hands tremble slightly and my heart raced at the thought of what Maggie was about to say. When I saw the serene look on her face as she held her glass up to mine, I actually shivered.

“To our journey. Let’s follow it wherever it leads,” she said in a quiet voice. “Together.”

She gently touched her glass to mine as our eyes met. The blue eyes filled with tears and I truly realized at that moment my heart was hers.

 “Wherever it leads,” I said when I was able to speak. My emotions threatened to overtake me; I quickly took a long sip of champagne.

I couldn’t help myself. I leaned over and kissed her, reveling in the soft lips that trembled slightly against mine. I wasn’t sure how long that kiss lasted, but when I finally pulled away, Maggie was breathless and her face flushed. I couldn’t swallow.

We both took a healthy drink as Maggie’s pocket of her coat started buzzing.

“What the…” I looked at Maggie. “Don’t even tell me.”

With a deep groan, Maggie pulled out her cell phone and looked down at it. “Please,” she begged and dialed the number.

“What is it?” I asked and Maggie put her hand up.

“Dr. Winfield, someone paged me.” She listened and groaned, then gave me a sick look. “No, no problem. I’ll be there.” She flipped the phone closed and handed me her glass. “You can finish it. I have to go to the hospital. There was an accident. They’re shorthanded and calling in any doctor they can get a hold of.”

“Crap.” I sat back in a dejected heap. “You had to be a doctor, didn’t you?”

We both laughed as the limo pulled up to our terminal at O’Hare.

“This sucks,” I said and finished the champagne.

“I’m sorry, Kate,” Maggie said as the limo driver hopped out.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. You’re a doctor,” I said and we slipped out of the comfortable limo and into the blustery Chicago winter. I pulled my collar up and watched as the driver handed my duffel to the porter. “Well…” I looked at Maggie, who was shivering but still looked so sexy in that black leather.

As I looked down at her, I was struck with the vision of her and me in a cozy little inn in New England, cuddling by a fire and… Now I shivered at the vivid mental picture of Maggie lying in front of a roaring fire.

“Good grief, what are you thinking about?” Maggie asked as she blew into her gloved hands to warm them. She must have seen the lustful look on my face because she stopped abruptly and blinked several times.

I laughed nervously and pulled her into my arms. “You don’t want to know,” I whispered into her ear. She pulled back sporting a stunned look.

“Oh, yes, I do. You tell me right now,” she insisted and I laughed heartily.

The limo driver was standing by the car door waiting for Maggie. The porter waited for me with ticket in hand.

“I gotta go,” I said with a wild grin.

Maggie glared at me. “Kate Ryan, you tell me what you were thinking,” she said as I took the ticket from the porter.

“You got a few bucks?” I asked, searching my pockets.

Maggie took the money out of her wallet and handed the porter a five-dollar bill. I raised my eyebrows in admiration as the porter tipped his hat and walked away.

“That was five bucks, you know—”

“Kate…” she said in a threatening voice.

I pulled her into my arms again and kissed her. I smiled inwardly as Maggie slumped against me and moaned. God, I didn’t want to leave her embrace. “I’ll call you later tonight,” I whispered against her lips.

Maggie opened her eyes and looked up at me. The cold March wind whipped around us, but I was decidedly warm. By the tiny bead of perspiration on her forehead, I could tell Maggie was, as well.

“You’d better,” she said with a sigh.

“Ya gotta get this limo moving.”

We turned to see a policeman standing there. Maggie and I looked at each other for a moment. She pulled me down for a scorching kiss, which made my knees buckle, and quickly let go. “Please be careful,” she whispered and ducked into the limo.

I watched as it pulled away from the curb. Did she always have to say “be careful”?

Chapter 3

Seaview was a quaint coastal town. Though it was covered in snow, it still had that New England charm.

“Cute little place,” I said absently and the cab driver agreed.

“Yep, nothing much happens here. The summer and fall bring in the tourists,” he said affably as he drove. “The winter is quiet, but we still get the tourists who like the snow. Spring’s just around the corner, though.”

Once through town, I noticed the spectacular pine forest that lined the highway. I’m sure the array of colors in the fall would be equally impressive.

The driver turned right onto a secluded road. A sign read Seaview Inn 1/2 mile. The road wound upward. I watched with childlike anticipation when the house suddenly came into view.

It was quite large, set in the clearing of the woods. Two-story, part brick, part clapboard siding was the picture of an old New England home. The wraparound porch gave the house a cozy feeling as the snow blanketed the property and surrounding woods. The driver pulled up the circular drive and stopped in front of the house.

He took out my luggage and groaned. “We’re in for some snow. My lumbago is acting up,” he said, rubbing his lower back.

I chuckled and felt my neck. “I know exactly what you mean.”

I looked up to see a tall man bounding down the porch stairs with obvious grace, smiling broadly. I couldn’t help but smile back.

“Miss Ryan, I presume?” he asked happily and offered his hand, which I took.

“Mr. Merriweather?”

He bowed slightly. “At your service. And please call me Simon—no formalities here. May I call you Kate?” he asked as I paid the driver.

“Certainly, thank you. This is very impressive.” I looked around.

“Thank you. Let me give you the grand tour.” He led me up the porch. “So you work for Constance. How is that gruff old woman? I haven’t seen her in years.”

“She’s as gruff as you probably remember,” I said and Simon laughed.

I stood in the foyer and looked around. The inside looked somewhat different than I expected. The low-beamed ceilings gave the house more of a cottage look. To the left was a living room or perhaps a common meeting area for the guests. It had an enormous fireplace surrounded by two huge comfortable couches and several overstuffed chairs. A massive set of French doors led the way to the wraparound porch.

To the right was a large dining room with yet another but smaller fireplace. Eight cozy tables were dressed with linen tablecloths and set elegantly with what I presumed was sterling silverware and crystal goblets. I felt a pang of loneliness when I thought how Maggie would love to see this.

The staircase was on the right with a small reception desk nestled in the corner.

“This is adorable,” I said as he led me through the dining room.

He flung open the French doors and I stepped onto the snow-covered porch. I could smell the sea air even through the late winter wind.

The property was on a hill, and as it sloped down, I got a good view of the Atlantic. “Magnificent.” I sighed and Simon agreed.

“That’s exactly what I said when I saw this view. That’s why I bought it. It reminds me of home,” he said. “I hail from Newport, Rhode Island.” He bowed slightly.

“We’ve got Lake Michigan in Chicago, but not a view like this.” I itched to take a photo or two.

As we walked back to the hall, a redheaded woman came bursting through the swinging kitchen door. “Mr. Simon, how many times have I asked ya not to take my—” she started loudly and stopped abruptly when she saw me.

“Rose Degnan, Kate Ryan, a fellow Irishwoman...Rose is manager and chef.” He smiled sweetly.

Rose, completely embarrassed, wiped off her hand and held it out to me.

“Rose, your face matches your hair beautifully. How ever do you do that?” Simon asked in mock amazement.

Rose ignored him. “Miss Ryan, a pleasure. I apologize…”

I waved her off. “Don’t be silly. Please call me Kate,” I said with a smile and shook her hand.

“Thank you. I suppose Simon will show you to your room. I’ll have dinner ready at seven.” She smiled, then glared at Simon, who raised his eyebrows and wagged a finger in her direction. She walked through the swinging door, leaving Simon chuckling in amusement.

“Rose is my right hand. Come to think of it, she’s both of them. I don’t know what in the world I would do without her. Though she has a nasty Irish temper,” he said, laughing, and slipped his arm through mine, “she’s so much fun to play with when she’s angry.”

“I know a woman just like that,” I said, thinking of Maggie. Simon looked down at me.

“Really? You must tell me all about her over cocktails.” He smiled wickedly and led the way upstairs.

At the top of the stairs, I counted four rooms along the hall and two at either end. Simon looked around. “These four rooms are smaller, but the end rooms are quite large and have private baths. They’re really quite cozy. Your Miss Worsley was here yesterday and most of today. She’s a remarkable woman and did a marvelous job. The rooms look better than they did.”

“She is?” 

Simon gave me a curious look. “She talked about you most of the time. I assumed you knew her.”

“Nope. I barely met her at Christmas. I’m glad she’s worked out for you, though.” I could feel his confounded glance as he opened the middle room and stepped back.

“I’ll put you in the middle.”

I let out a sarcastic snort. “That’s usually where I wind up.”

Simon laughed out loud. “You have a marvelous sense of humor, Kate. I shall enjoy our week.”

The room was small but cozy. It had a double bed and a comfortable overstuffed chair that looked so relaxing. A small desk was set close to the big bay window overlooking the ocean. “Nice view.” I sat on the window seat. “This is cozy.” The down comforter on the bed made it look very inviting. “Is Hester still here?”

“No, she said she was staying in town, then off to some relatives north of here. Isn’t there another country north of here?”

“We have a little more real estate before Canada, Simon.”

He shrugged and walked to the door. “I’ll leave you to get settled in. Cocktails in half an hour in the living room.”

He bowed and handed me the key. “Half an hour,” he called happily over his shoulder as he walked out and closed the door.

I chuckled and flounced on the bed. It was quite comfortable as I stretched out. Maybe it would be a nice quiet weekend after all.

After I got myself settled, I decided to call Maggie. I pulled out my cell phone, which I still hadn’t mastered, and dialed the familiar number—the only number I had on this stupid little contraption that I’d lost three times now.

“Hey you,” she said. I could hear the smile in her voice and grinned as I lay back against the plush pillow. “I gotta go.”

I frowned and sat up. “Why?”

“Sorry, Kate. It’s a madhouse here. We have a lot of injured in triage,” she said quickly.

“Geez, Maggie, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but I have to go. Call me later,” she said. “I like the worried tone in your voice, Miss Ryan. Is that for me?”

“Well, y-yeah.”

“Well, good. I’ll talk to you later tonight. I’m glad you got in okay. Now say goodbye so I can hang up,” she said, and once again, I heard the smile in her voice. I pictured the blue smiling eyes and deep dimples.

“Okay, bye. I’ll call ya later,” I said. “Maggie, I miss you…”

“Damn you, Kate Ryan, your timing sucks. I miss you, too.”

I sat there listening to silence and snapped the phone shut.

As I wandered downstairs, I found Simon Merriweather standing by the mantel staring into the fire. I stood by the archway as Rose walked into the living room with the tray of drinks. I saw her watch him for a moment as he stared into the flames.

She had a look of what I thought was sadness. Simon turned to her and smiled.

“Right on time, my dear,” he said happily as Rose gave the martinis a gentle shake. He sat at the bar and lazily rested his chin on his hand. “You have a fine steady hand, Rose,” he said as he plopped several olives into the long-stemmed glass. “Very good, the glass is chilled. Heavens, Rose, you prepare a martini almost as well as Douglas used to.”

Rose stopped in mid-pour. “Why, I think that’s the best compliment you’ve given me in a while, Simon.” They both laughed heartily.

I almost felt as though I was intruding on a private moment. I didn’t know why. However, I entered the living room and Simon smiled.

“Kate, come and join us,” he ordered playfully.

Eyeing the martinis, I put up a hand. “Whoa. That’s just a tad too powerful for me.”

Rose chimed in. “Then name your poison, Kate.” Simon smiled and watched us.

“A glass of wine would do if you’ve got it,” I said and Rose put her hands on her hips.

“If we’ve…?” she started, then took a deep breath. “Red or white?”

“Red.”

“Cabernet, pinot noir, merlot, burgundy…”

“Cabernet,” I finished for her and turned to Simon.

“Ah, ah, not so fast. Domestic or,” Rose started and I narrowed my eyes. Simon looked as though he loved seeing people having a good time.

“Domestic.”

“California, Washington state…”

I finally threw up my hands in defeat and laughed. “Enough. I give. You decide. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”

Rose gave me a conquering nod and went to the wine cellar.

Simon laughed out loud. “Thank God, if you hadn’t given in, she’d have gone on all night. She’s a stubborn wench, my Mrs. Degnan.” He sipped his martini.

I smiled affectionately, thinking of Maggie. Simon raised a curious eyebrow. “Don’t tell me. You know a woman just like that. The same one?” he asked and I felt the color rush to my cheeks.

Simon grinned happily. “I’m completely intrigued. You must tell me.”

Gratefully, Rose came into the room with a bottle of wine and my rescue.

Dinner was delectable. We sat in the dining room by the fireplace and ate while Simon spoke of life and his partner and how they had lived in Manhattan for almost twenty years. When he told me about the hit-and-run accident, I noticed the sadness in his eyes.

“They never found the driver?” I asked, my PI instincts showing.

Simon shook his head. “They found the car but not the driver. There were plenty of witnesses. All of them saw the same thing. It happened so fast. A dark car came streaking down the street, jumped the curb, taking a newsstand with it, and hit several people, including Doug. He received the most impact and never regained consciousness. I never was able to tell him…” he said in a quiet voice that trailed off.

Rose and I looked at each other but said nothing. Rose stood and cleared the plates. “I’ll get dessert and coffee then,” she said in a soft voice and walked away.

“I’m sorry, Simon. I don’t know what I’d do,” I stammered, not knowing what to say. Simon reached over and patted my hand.

“Don’t let anything go unsaid, Kate. That’s my advice.” He smiled and winked. “No matter how stubborn your wench may be, or you for that matter.”

I felt the color rise in my cheeks as I sipped my wine. Simon, for whatever reason, was much too perceptive and it unnerved me. Simon sensed this and he took his hand away and chuckled.

“So tell me about you. How did you become a photographer?” he asked as Rose came back with dessert.

“I’m curious, as well. Do ya travel much?” she asked.

I found myself talking about my life quite easily. Simon mentioned Connie and how she was married to Helen’s brother for three miserable years. We talked about the magazine and how many places I had seen.

“What did you do before the magazine? If you’ve only been there five years?” Rose asked.

For a moment, I hesitated. Then figured what the hell, I was proud of my past, well, most of it. “I was a private investigator,” I said and waited for the reaction.

They both stopped and looked up. Simon had a fork in his mouth and Rose had her mouth open. I chuckled and continued with my cheesecake.

Simon snorted and sipped his port. “Pull Rose’s leg, Kate dear. Mine are long enough,” he said and I shrugged.

“You’re serious,” he said, completely enthralled.

“Yep,” I replied through the cheesecake.

“Honest? Did ya carry a gun?” Rose asked.

I smiled inwardly; that was the first question everyone asked.

“Don’t be silly, Rose. Did Sam Spade carry a gun?” Simon waved off her question. “Did you ever use it?” he asked with morbid curiosity.

I laughed and put the napkin to my mouth. “Yes,” I answered Rose’s question. Then I looked at Simon. “Almost,” I said quietly as I thought of Liz the Crazed. I shivered and hoped neither of them saw it.

From my uncomfortable silence, I’m sure Simon and Rose could tell I didn’t want to pursue that any further. Simon watched me curiously.

“Is that why you gave it up?” he gently prodded.

I looked up at him, and for a moment, our gazes locked. I wondered what Connie had told him.

“Yes, it was,” I said firmly, ending the discussion.

Rose glared at Simon. “Does that answer your question, you nosy man?” Rose scolded as she picked up the dessert plates.

Simon and I sat there for a moment not saying anything. Simon cleared his throat. “If I have offended you, I truly apologize,” he said kindly. I heard the sincerity in his voice.

“You haven’t. It’s just…” I stammered and felt the back of my neck. “Ancient history,” I said lightly.

Simon smiled. “I took a course in that once or twice myself.”

As the evening ended, I headed for my room when Simon stopped me. “Tomorrow I’ll show you around the property. You can take your little Kodak and snap away.”

“I’m an early riser,” I warned.

“How terribly sad.”

I laughed and offered an ungodly time—that time before noon. Simon was appalled.

“Good heavens. Well, enjoy yourself. I’ll catch up with you later in the morning. Sweet dreams, Kate,” he said over his shoulder.

I sat on the window seat in my bedroom and looked around the cozy room. Maggie would love this place, I thought as I looked out the window.

The moon was high in the cloudless sky and illuminated the snow-covered forest. From my vantage point, I could barely see the Atlantic over the sloping pine trees. Then something caught my eye in the clearing at the edge of the backyard. I narrowed my eyes and peered closer. There it was again. I dashed to my camera case, took out the camera with the night lens, and ran back to the window. I shut off the light and scanned the woods. I thought for sure I saw someone, something scurrying about, then nothing.

“Crap.” I put down the camera.

I called Maggie again as I lay in bed but got her voice mail. As I turned off the light, I settled back against the warm pillows and let out a deep yawn that nearly cracked my jaw. I wondered just what I saw.

“Must have been a deer or something,” I mumbled through my yawns.

As ole Morpheus called, I thought of Maggie and how I wished she were lying next me. That would be so wonderful right now, I thought dreamily, and pulled the down quilt over me.

Arousing visions of Dr. Winfield flashed through my tired mind. My eyes flew open and I stared into the darkness. Morpheus, where are you?

Chapter 4

The late winter morning was clear and crisp as the sun burst through my window. Feeling refreshed and ready for the day, I showered and walked downstairs, my camera bag in tow. At only six in the morning, I didn’t want to wake anyone.

I crept into the kitchen and smiled to see coffee already made. After searching the cabinets, I found a nice safe coffee mug with a lid and poured a generous cup. Trudging in the snow with an open cup of hot coffee spelled disaster—for me anyway.

I headed out the back door and instinctively went to the spot where I thought I saw someone the previous night. I saw no footprints, no sign of anything or anyone. I was somewhat disappointed, but then I noticed a path through the woods that led away from the house.

“An adventure,” I whispered happily and started down the path. Soon, I was at the edge of the woods and could hear the surf. I took a deep breath and smelled the salty sea air. Suddenly, the ocean seemed to jump right out as the cold Atlantic waves rolled onto shore.

As I trudged through the ankle-deep snow, I looked back at the majestic pine forest. I snapped off a few photos, then made my way back.

The aroma of coffee and cinnamon filled the air, and to no surprise, I was ravenous. Rose was humming in the kitchen and turned as I entered and stamped my snowy boots on the rug by the back door.

“You’re an early riser. Good mornin’,” she said lightly.

“Good morning. I was just taking a walk down to the shore.” I slipped out of my heavy coat. “Your woods are magnificent.” I hung my coat on the rack. “I got a few good shots.”

I blew into my cold hands and rubbed them together.

“Have a seat. I’ll make you breakfast.” Rose put a cup of coffee in front of me. “What’ll it be? Eggs, pancakes?” 

I nodded happily to all. Once again, I thought of Maggie, who did not know her way around a kitchen. A skillful young doctor? Absolutely. But a cook she ain’t.

I remembered how Maggie tried to make breakfast one morning the month before. I was in bed with the flu. Dr. Winfield came over, unannounced as usual, and played doctor, which I liked. Bless her heart, I thought, smiling. I never knew bacon could disintegrate.

I watched Rose, who seemed at home in the kitchen. “How long have you been a chef?” I munched on a piece of bacon.

“Let me see, about four years. As a child, I was always fascinated how my mother could cook for seven and seem to enjoy it. So I went to college, got my degree, and love it,” she said and sat across from me.

She was attractive, I thought, with her wild short red hair and deep blue eyes. “So is there a Mr. Degnan?”

“Yes, in Dublin, I imagine. We’re divorced. Oh, don’t worry.” She waved off my apologetic look. “It was very mutual. I grew up and found my independence. I knew what I wanted and Patrick didn’t. We had no children, so it was clean and neat. He got me this job, as a matter of fact,” she said and I noticed a trace of sadness.

“Still love him?” I asked.

Rose raised an eyebrow. “I’ll always love him, but I’m not in love with him. I do miss a body next to me at night, someone to tell my troubles to,” she said, looking out the window. She then glanced at me. “My, it’s easy to talk to you.”

“Take some advice from someone older and much more stupid. Don’t let your independence get in the way of finding someone,” I warned thoughtfully and drank my coffee.

“Good advice.” Simon stood in the doorway smiling. “My God, it’s early. How can a person sleep with this heavenly aroma?” He looked down at Rose. “You witch…” he scolded playfully.

After breakfast, Simon and I bundled up and walked the grounds. It was a bright sunny winter morning, but off in the distance, the dark clouds gathered.

“I think we’re in for some snow.” I motioned to the west. “I’d better get all the photos I can today while the sun is out.”

We walked for a while and I felt Simon stealing glances my way as I took the photos.

“So tell me about this ill-tempered woman of yours,” he said absently.

I hesitated telling a total stranger about my personal life. Maybe it was his smile, maybe because he was gay, and I could commiserate with him. Or just maybe I needed to talk. What are the odds of that happening? I thought.

 Whatever the reason, I proceeded to tell him all about Maggie. Simon listened and I noticed his smile as I spoke of her. Then I stopped and scratched the back of my head.

“Maggie seems to be so sure of this. It’s been a while for me.” I shrugged, then laughed. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

Simon chuckled. “I’m told I’m a good listener.”

I sighed and pulled my collar up around my neck. The sun was still shining and warmed the morning. At least I was warm. It was probably due to the fact I was thinking about Maggie. I now pulled my gloves off and held them as my palms sweated.

“I don’t know,” I finished almost angrily and slapped the gloves into my hand. “Maybe I’m just not cut out for this.”

“Nuts,” Simon said frankly.

I gave him a defensive look, then realized he had noticed something on the ground. He kicked the snow away to expose the brown earth. He stooped and plucked something out of the ground. He examined it, then tossed it over his shoulder. I grinned as I watched this quirky fellow.

“I found a four-leaf clover once,” he started explaining in a bored tone, “and in my youth and stupidity, I didn’t realize what I had found and threw it away thinking it was the three-leaf variety. Someone told me that was bad luck, so I’ve been looking for another ever since. It’s a shame to throw away something that may bring you good fortune and happiness…” he finished and glanced my way.

I gave him a smug look. “Perhaps it’s not the right type of happiness, Confucius,” I said, knowing his intent.

Simon stopped and looked at me. “And do you have so much happiness in your life you can afford to throw any kind away so easily?” he asked. “You sarcastic woman,” he added. I winced but said nothing.

“I remember when I really saw Douglas for the first time. We’d grown up together, but it wasn’t until Becky and I went to see him in New York. I was depressed, so we went on a shopping spree,” he said, laughing. “Good ole Becky. How I love that woman.” He sighed, then continued.

“So we met Doug for dinner, and the minute I shook his hand, I knew. So did he, I could tell by the look in his eyes. Oh, he put up a brave fight for six months. He avoided me like the plague. We talked only a few times in those six long months. I knew then that drastic measures were needed. So dear Becky and I devised a plan and trapped the poor man. He never knew what hit him. All’s fair in love and war.” He slipped his arm in mine and guided me back to the house.

“And if it’s love, it usually means war,” he added and I laughed. “Now I believe you need to take your little Kodak and get some wonderful shots of my inn. Then I’ll take you into town and you can take your photos of Seaview,” he said and pushed me through the door.

I spent the rest of the morning taking photos of the pristine woods and Simon’s charming inn. About noon, I walked into the kitchen to find Simon sitting at the table lazily flipping through the pages of Food and Wine magazine.

“Can you honestly make some of these dishes?” he asked amazed. He looked up and grinned. “Ah, Kate. Done with the photos? Have a seat. Rose is about to be angry.”

I laughed and sat opposite him. Rose whirled around from the stove, her apron full of flour as she wiped her hands.

“Can I make...?” she started in a thick Irish brogue. She stood there with her hands on her hips. “I’ll have ya know I was a chef at Ashford Castle for two years runnin’,” she said indignantly and waved a wooden spoon in his direction.

“Good heavens, don’t get your Irish up, and put that thing down, it may go off. I was just asking. I spoke with the former husband, Patrick, and he raved about you. That’s why I hired you. Heavens! Now be a good girl and prepare something for me and Kate,” he said, smiling, and Rose glared at him. He blinked a couple of times. “Please, Mrs. Degnan?” he amended with a sheepish smile.

Rose shook her head. “You need a keeper,” she mumbled and turned to the refrigerator.

I glanced at Simon as he continued to look through the magazine. He was handsome—tall and lanky, black wavy hair with considerable gray at the temples. It was his eyes that I noticed. They were a gray-blue, and even when he smiled, they had a look of melancholy. They seemed to look right into your soul. It was disquieting, let me tell you. They seemed to be the eyes of experience. They had seen the world and desperately tried to like what they had seen. That’s what it seemed to me anyway. I knew the feeling.

I did have to smile at his wardrobe. Simon Merriweather dressed very well. He sported a brown tweed jacket and slacks. I raised an eyebrow at the red socks and matching handkerchief that helplessly flopped out of the breast pocket. An expensive-looking pair of brown suede shoes rounded off the outfit. He looked…bored.

“I can’t wait till the girls get here.” He pouted childishly.

Once again, I laughed inwardly. Simon Merriweather amused me. I saw Rose smile and give me a wink.

“Ya need a keeper,” she said again.

When the back door bell rang, Simon’s eyes widened in anticipation. “The grocery boy…” he whispered eagerly and stood. I laughed out loud.

Rose put up a hand and he sat back down. “I’ll get it. Remember last month,” she reminded him. Simon gave her a hurt look as she disappeared.

“That was not my fault. He was over twenty-one, I think. Besides, how was I to know he was the mayor’s nephew?” he called after her. He then looked at me. “Really, how was I to know?”

“I can’t imagine,” I said dryly.

“That’s exactly what I said.”

Rose came in with three bags. “Don’t get up. I can manage,” she wheezed, red-faced as she struggled to the counter. I jumped up to offer my assistance. We both glared at Simon.

“You’re a fine strong woman, Rose Degnan,” Simon said without looking up.

“So who do we have this week?” Rose asked as she prepared the meal.

“Well, the girls and…Helen.” He grimaced and shivered as if he had tasted spoiled milk.

“Saints above, why?” Rose asked.

“Who’s Helen?” I asked, joining the conversation.

“My cousin,” Simon offered and cringed dramatically. “Not very nice.”

“No offense, Mr. Simon, but that woman…” Rose started and Simon groaned.

“I know, Rose. My cousin is an enormous pain,” he said out of the corner of his mouth. I laughed and shook my head as he continued. “How she got wind of the girls coming, I’m sure I don’t know. But I do know how they all love to gossip in Newport. The Thomases will be here tomorrow. It’s their anniversary. How they found out about us, I don’t know that, either. We’re not even in the guide yet. They’re from Nyack, New York, if there is such a place. I do hope their credit card goes through,” he said thoughtfully and shrugged.

Rose finished and placed a small platter in front of us. My mouth watered. It was filled with cheeses and meats, olives, and tomatoes, all drizzled with imported olive oil, I’m sure. She uncorked a bottle of wine and poured both of us a glass.

Simon sat there, licking his lips. I couldn’t blame him. Rose gave us a superior grin. “Bon appétit,” she said and Simon rubbed his hands together.

“Merci!” Simon exclaimed as we dug in.

“Rose, this is wonderful,” I said with a mouthful.

“C’est très bon!” Simon concurred, his mouth equally full. He then stood and got another wineglass and guided Rose to a chair. “Sit and enjoy, you deserve it.”

I was in heaven as I sipped the warm red wine. I nearly missed Rose and Simon talking.

“So when are the ladies coming?” Rose asked.

“Oh, Good Lord, I nearly forgot!” Simon looked at his watch. “They’ll be here late this afternoon. Kate and I are going into town, but we should be back in plenty of time.”

I would’ve rather sat and finished the antipasto. However, I had to keep telling myself I was on assignment and not for Food and Wine magazine.

“I’ll be right down.” Simon dashed through the swinging kitchen door.

“I suppose you’ll be wantin’ dinner, as well?” Rose shouted after him.

Simon came back through the door, looking grim. “Rose dear, there’s no need to bellow, I can hear you, and yes, dinner would be fine. Make anything your little Irish heart desires. Cocktails at six, dinner at seven? Come along, Kate, we mustn’t keep Seaview waiting!”

I shook my head and walked out. This was going to be an odd week; I could just feel it in my bones.

Chapter 5

The sun had melted a good deal of snow, clearing the only cobblestone street in Seaview. “This is a nice little town,” I said as I happily snapped a few photos.

Simon agreed as he patiently walked beside me. “Yes, it’s far enough away from the rats and their race.”

There were a few winter tourists milling around town visiting the old shops. We had been walking for a while when Simon stopped abruptly, took me by the arm, and turned around. “Okay, enough, let’s eat,” he said hastily and guided me down the street.

“Simon. Why are we running?” I asked breathlessly.

Simon stopped in front of the restaurant. “Were we? So sorry. I’m just famished,” he said and opened the door.

I gave him a suspicious look. “Shoo, shoo.” He pushed me inside.

“Okay, okay. I’m going,” I insisted. “Christ, have you got a tapeworm? We just ate,” I asked over my shoulder and heard Simon chuckle.

He guided me to a small table where a waiter was immediately at our side. The clean-cut young man smiled broadly at Simon. “Mr. Merriweather, we haven’t seen you in a month.”

Simon looked the young man up and down and winked at him. “I do apologize. I’ll make a point of coming more often,” he said seductively. “I’ll order if you don’t mind, Kate.”

“By all means…”

“We’ll have the cracked crab and two glasses of your best chardonnay,” he said and closed the menu. I glanced at my watch. More wine?

The young man smiled at Simon, who sighed openly as he watched the waiter walk away.

“Down, Fido,” I whispered into my water glass, and Simon threw his head back and laughed.

He reached over and took my hand. “Kate Ryan, I think I adore you,” he said flippantly, but I thought it was laced with sincerity.

“Simon Merriweather, you are an insatiable flirt.”

The food came to the table and my eyes widened. “Isn’t this too much for lunch?” I asked somewhat amazed. I’d have settled for a chili dog and a beer.

Simon waved me off as he put his napkin in his lap. “Nonsense. It’s not the crab,” he said, smiling wickedly as he dipped it in the drawn butter. “It’s the butter.”

I watched him as he talked. He was a curious fellow, I thought. Good-looking and kind, but there were times when he looked as though he was far away, thinking of anything else. I figured it was Douglas. It had only been a year. I gave him a lot of credit. It took me a few years to join civilization again after the maniacal Liz, and I still had doubts.

“Mr. Merriweather?”

I looked up to see a man standing at our table. I quickly appraised him. He was a tall, attractive man, perhaps a little younger than me. He had short-cropped sandy-colored hair and an affable smile. He also had a nice tan going for the middle of winter.

“Doctor.” Simon looked startled and knocked the crab fork off the table, which I thought uncharacteristic of my flamboyant new friend. The young man bent down, picked it up, and gave him a smug look.

“I was just wondering when your inn will be open. My parents are thinking of a getaway in the spring.”

Simon raised one eyebrow. “Doctor, have them call anytime and make a reservation. Rose handles all of that.”

The young doctor nodded and smiled, then he looked at me.

“I apologize, this is Kate Ryan. Dr. Stockton, the town physician,” Simon said while watching him.

He offered his hand. “My pleasure.”

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Stockton,” I said.

The doctor then turned to Simon. “I’m sorry to interrupt your lunch. Be careful with that butter, sir. It’s bad for the ticker,” he said with a grin.

Simon narrowed his eyes at him. “Thank you.”

The doctor laughed and walked away.

“Sir…That young pup,” he said childishly.

I smiled as I sipped my wine. “He’s a good-looking man,” I said absently.

Simon snorted rudely. “He’s an upstart. Impudent little…” he said, fidgeting with his napkin. The waiter came over with a new fork and set it on the plate. Simon’s face was transformed as he smiled wickedly at him.

“So he’s the town doctor?” I asked as I watched Simon ogling the hired help.

“Pardon me?” he asked; I knew he heard the question.

“Dr. Stockton. He’s the town doctor?” I asked again.

Simon rolled his eyes and waved in the air. “Whatever. I suppose he’s Superman. He’s the doctor, the coroner, and the vet. The butcher, the baker…” he chimed childishly, then tossed his napkin on the table, picked up his wineglass, and took a healthy drink.

I hid my smile behind my napkin. I watched him sputtering and cleared my throat. “Is he..?” I asked as I ate my crab.

“Wonderfully, yes,” Simon said in an irritated manner. Then he chuckled and had that far-off look again. “Ah, well, there’s other fish in the sea, as they say…” He sighed softly and drank his wine.

He looked out the window and I followed his gaze. Across the street, Dr. Stockton was talking with another equally attractive young man. I caught the sad look on Simon’s face as he watched.

“That’s the sheriff. Wyatt Earp, I think,” he said, frowning. “I come to a little town to get away and find some peace and solitude, and I’m surrounded by temptation,” he declared and waved for the bill. He signed with a flourish, not even looking at the prices. He reminded me of Maggie.

When he looked up, he smiled and waved. “There’s your Miss Worsley.”

I turned around so fast I nearly threw out my back. There she was, standing in the doorway. She waved and made her way to our table. I noticed a slight limp. For some unknown reason, my heart beat faster. Simon stood and held out his hand. I looked up in astonishment at Hester, running a hand through her short red hair. I couldn’t tell if it was windblown or styled in that disheveled look. Hester smiled and took Simon’s hand.

“Simon, I hoped to see you before I left,” she said softly. I tried to place the accent. It sounded somewhat like a Southern drawl. “I just made the last run-through at the inn.”

“Leaving so soon?” Simon asked. “Oh, you know Kate Ryan.”

Hester looked down at me and smiled. “We came close at Hannah’s Christmas benefit, but I never got the opportunity. I had to leave.”

As I stood, she put a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t get up.” I took the hand she offered.

“We did almost meet,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

“Do you have time to join us?” Simon flagged the waiter down.

“I have a few moments, yes.” Hester sat as Simon held the chair.

I got a good look at her then. I searched her face, taking in the brown eyes, the red hair, her white skin, and the fact that she looked terribly thin. She wore no rings, no jewelry of any kind, really. It was then I heard Simon softly clearing his throat. I was staring, and I knew I blushed horribly.

“I’m sorry, Hester. You…you remind me of someone,” I said, knowing I sounded lame.

Hester smiled and leaned forward slightly. “Well, I will take that as a compliment. You Northerners have a way about you.”

“Where are you from?” Simon asked as the waiter stood by the table. “And what will you have, Hester?”

“A glass of cabernet will be fine, thank you.”

Simon looked at me and I shook my head. “Kate’s being a dud. I would like another glass of that wonderful chardonnay.”

“Now answer my question,” Simon said with a grin.

“I’m from Atlanta,” Hester said. I was right; it was a Southern drawl I heard. She looked at me, and once again, my heart raced when I looked into her brown eyes. “And you’re from Chicago. Hannah told me quite a lot about you.”

“Really?” I drank my water; my hand was trembling.

“Yes. Hannah cares a great deal for you. I’m told you’re an accomplished photographer.”

“Yes, she is. Kate comes highly recommended from her editor,” Simon said. The waiter set the wine in front of them. “And you, Miss Worsley, were recommended by Kate, I hear.”

Hester raised an eyebrow and I shrugged. “Hannah sang your praises at the benefit.”

“Thank you. Perhaps someday I’ll repay the kindness,” Hester said.

There was something in her voice that made me look at her intently. You know her, my mind kept screaming at me. As she reached for her wineglass, she winced slightly.

“Something wrong?” Simon asked.

“It’s this cold weather y’all have. We don’t get this weather in Atlanta and I haven’t experienced it, well, except in Chicago. Now that was cold,” she said and Simon laughed. “I had an accident last year, and it seems to still bother me.”

“What happened?” I asked and sat back. Hester looked at me, her gaze searching my face.

“I was careless.”

“At the wrong place at the wrong time?” Simon sipped his wine. He absently stared at his wineglass; the melancholy look flashed across his face. I knew he was thinking of Doug.

“No, Simon. It was the right time, the right place.” Hester took a healthy drink from her wineglass.

There was an awkward silence as I looked from Simon, who was still absently staring off, to Hester, who frowned deeply. She abruptly took a deep breath and laughed; it had Simon jumping. The white wine sloshed in the glass, spilling over his hand.

“In any event, this cold northern weather has me achin’,” Hester said. For a moment, I could hear something—something in her voice.

Simon laughed and wiped his hand on the napkin. “I understand. The winters in Newport take their toll, as I’m sure they do in Chicago.”

“So you have relatives in Connecticut?” I asked and toyed with the butter knife.

“Yes, an aunt and uncle. They’ve lived there for quite some time now.”

“First visit?” I asked.

Hester narrowed her eyes slightly. “No, I’ve been up to see them many times.” She then turned to Simon. “They left the Confederacy and fled north.”

Simon threw his head back and laughed; so did Hester. She drank her wine and glanced at me but said nothing. She set her empty wineglass down and looked at Simon’s watch. “Oh, I really must be going.”

Simon and I stood along with her. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her as Simon helped her with her coat. “It’s been a pleasure, Hester.” Simon kissed her cheek. “You must come back for a visit. In the summer.”

Hester laughed. “Yes, the summer only.” She then turned to me. “Kate, it was nice to finally meet you. We’ll meet again.” She shook my hand. “I’m sure of it.”

“I’m sure.” I smiled.

“Give my regards to Hannah and Maggie,” she said over her shoulder as she walked out.

“What a delightful woman,” Simon said with a sigh. “And you, staring like you did. Are you smitten?”

I chuckled and sat down. “No, not smitten. Just curious.”

“Why?” Simon picked up his drink. “You said she reminded you of someone.”

“Yes, and I can’t put my finger on it.”

“That is annoying, isn’t it?” Simon looked at his empty wineglass. “How sad. Well, let’s get back and see if we can annoy Rose.”

As we walked in the back door, an anxious-looking Rose met us.

“Sweet Jaysus, keep quiet and don’t be slammin’ the door,” she exclaimed, then dashed back into the kitchen.

Simon and I looked at each other. Simon shrugged and helped me with my coat. “She’s a little quirky, my Rose,” he whispered.

We walked into the kitchen to find Rose peering into the oven window. “If this falls,” she said in a threatening tone.

Simon walked up, bent down, and looked, as well. “What is it?”

“Chocolate cake,” Rose said. “So back away, Simon. Quietly.”

“Good heavens!” he whispered and headed toward the door. “I will be in my rooms, taking a warm bath before the girls get here.”

I stood there not moving. Rose had me scared to death. When the doorbell rang, Rose took off her apron and ran her fingers through her hair. “Don’t touch a thing.”

“I’m not staying in here. If that thing falls, I don’t think I want to be in the same county.” I followed Rose out of the kitchen.

Someone had a heavy hand on the doorbell as Rose flew down the hall. She opened the door with a flourish and I saw three elderly women standing there and one driver, turning red as he struggled with the luggage.

“Simon Merriweather, if you please. I’m Emily Masterson,” the older woman said. She was holding her purse in front of her. She was average height with gray hair pulled back and wearing an expensive coat.

“Simon will be right down, but please come in. We’ve been expecting you. I’m Rose Degnan, the manager,” she said.

The woman smiled and nodded as Rose led the way. I stood out of harm’s way and watched the parade. This was gonna be some week.

A little woman followed, looking around, awestruck. It struck me that she looked like a little bird. “Kathleen Parker,” she introduced herself and smiled happily. “Just as she said.” She had a timid voice, I thought.

A third woman walked in, leaning on a cane, and shook Rose’s hand. “My feet are killing me.” She sat on the deacon’s bench in the foyer. I liked this one.

“Ah,” she sighed as she flexed her feet. “I’m Rebecca Townsend.”

She was taller than the other two and had the look of a woman in charge. She instantly reminded me of the old actress Ethel Barrymore—strong features with eyes constantly smiling, yet there was a trace of sarcasm there as if she were thinking of a private joke. Yep, I liked her.

From the front door, the driver grunted as he stumbled in with the luggage. I felt the poor guy’s pain as he struggled, chomping on his cigar and sweating. He set them down by the stairs, took off his cap, and wiped his brow.

He looked around, then looked up the stairs. “Nice joint.” He nodded approvingly. I watched him as he continued to look around.

“You can leave the luggage here. I’ll take it up,” Rose said absently.

“No, no. It’s part of my job. Just tell me where…” He picked up the luggage and headed for the stairs. I thought he was being a little pushy. Apparently, Rose thought so, as well. I saw the irritated look as he climbed the stairs.

“Then please just leave them on the landing,” she said firmly. He nodded as he continued up the staircase.

“Let the boy do his job. He’s getting a pretty penny.” Emily Masterson patted Rose’s shoulder.

“I suppose I’m just on edge. You being our first guests and all,” she said. I must have had an indignant look; Rose offered an apologetic smile. Then she looked up at the stairs; the driver was nowhere to be found. I wondered where he was, as well.

“Are ya lost then?” she called up rudely and the girls raised an eyebrow.

I found myself laughing along with Rebecca. She noticed me and our eyes met. I merely smiled and nodded.

“Sorry, it’s a nice joint,” he called back and came down the stairs. “I’ll be going.” He stood there for a moment.

“Young man, what is your name?” Emily asked the driver.

“Nick,” he replied and chomped on his cigar.

“Nicholas, you shouldn’t be smoking that nasty cigar,” Emily informed him.

I hid my smile and watched the show. The little woman Kathleen walked up to him and smiled. “It is nasty, Nicholas. And you’re a nice young man.”

I nearly died when she reached up and snagged the unlit cigar out of Nicholas’s mouth and promptly handed it to Rose, who had a stunned look on her face as she took it.

Poor Nicholas stood there, equally stunned, sans cigar.

“Nick,” Rebecca said. “You look like you could use a drink. So could I. Perhaps we can raid Simon’s liquor cabinet.”

I thought it was funny. Kathleen giggled. Emily rolled her eyes, but I could tell she wanted to laugh. Rose just blinked. I watched this Nick guy. When he didn’t look Rebecca Townsend in the face, it struck me that he looked guilty. Of what, I didn’t know.

“Well,” Rose started, and for the first time, she looked at me. “Oh, Kate, I’m so sorry. Ladies, this is Kate Ryan. She’ll be staying this week, as well. She’s a photographer and will be taking photos of the inn for the local tour guide.”

“Nice to meet all of you.” I watched the myriad looks from kind to cautious to inquisitive, each woman nodded.

“Let’s go into the living room, shall we?” Rose suggested.

“Nick, stay for a while and have a drink,” Rebecca said and the young man rushed over to her and assisted her as she stood. She let out a sigh of relief. “Bursitis,” she said and leaned on her cane. “He can stay, Rose?”

Rose nodded helplessly. “If ya like, Miss Townsend.”

Rose poured sherry for all as we sat in the living room, and once again, I listened as Rose explained Simon’s idea of running an inn.

Emily snorted. “You know you’ll be doing most of the work, young lady.” It was not a question. I saw Rose smile.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m well aware of Simon’s...allergies,” she said with a small grin.

Emily tried not to smile. Rebecca laughed out loud. Kathleen giggled happily.

“Is Ms. Caruthers not coming?” Rose asked. I’m sure they heard the hope in her voice.

“No, Helen will be here,” Emily said with a heavy sigh.

I wondered why no one liked this woman. I was curious to meet her. I saw Rose sporting a sour look. Apparently, so did Rebecca as she gave her a wicked grin. “You look like you need an antacid, Rose.”

I saw the crimson rise in Rose’s neck, and mercifully for her, Nick stood and set down his glass. “I gotta call in, if ya don’t mind. Excuse me.” He walked into the hallway.

I don’t know why this guy was curious to me. So being nosy, I inched my way to the doorway. I heard his shoes clicking on the hardwood floor as he paced.

“Yeah, it’s me. They’re in. I hate this fucking job. Yeah, I’m on my way.”

I raised an eyebrow as I heard the phone snap shut. I quickly made my way back into the living room.

“I have to be going. They got another fare for me,” he said, again avoiding eye contact with just about everyone in the room.

“Thank you, Nick,” Rebecca said kindly and motioned him over to her and reached out her hand.

Nick took it and I noticed she slipped him a few folded bills. I also noticed he started to say something, then stopped.

“Thanks for the drink, bye,” he said and quickly left.

“What an odd young man,” Emily said.

“I like him,” Kathleen said softly.

I noticed Rebecca watching Kathleen with a fond smile. “You like everyone, Kit,” she scolded with a playful wink, to which Kit let out an amused giggle.

A few moments later, the doorbell rang once more. “Ah, Helen, who wants to bet?” Rebecca asked. “No takers?”

I laughed as Rose answered the door. She returned with a tall white-haired woman dressed like a million bucks, which I’m sure they all had. Maggie should really be here.

She gave Rose a stiff smile. “Rose, how nice to see you again,” she said casually as she walked in and looked around. “It’s changed a little.”

I suddenly found myself standing next to Rebecca, who looked up at me. “She’s invited herself up several times in the past six months, checking up on Simon,” she whispered but not too quietly, as if she didn’t care if this Helen Caruthers heard her.

I had no idea what to say to this, so I just nodded.

“It’s nice to see you, too, Ms. Caruthers,” Rose said with equal stiffness and stepped back. The cab driver set Helen’s luggage on the porch.

“Bring it to my usual room.” Helen walked into the living room.

I saw Rose stiffen, but she said nothing. She merely picked up the luggage and went upstairs.

“Helen, my dear. How nice to see you.” Emily kissed her cheek. Helen Caruthers smiled back. I watched the exchange.

“Emily, you look tired, dear,” she said with a worried grin and turned to Kathleen. Emily rolled her eyes at Rebecca and sat down.

“Kathleen, how are you?” she asked with a dramatic flourish as if the woman had been near death.

Kathleen smiled slowly. “I’m very well, thank you, dear,” she said as Helen kissed her cheek.

Helen turned to Rebecca, who was sitting in a big overstuffed chair by the fireplace. She glanced at me but said nothing.

“Rebecca, it’s been almost a year.” It was all she said and made no attempt to go to her. Rebecca sat perfectly still and held her cane in front of her.

“That long? It seems like only yesterday you were gossiping about—”

“Helen, you’ve been here before?” Emily asked, interrupting Rebecca with a glare.

Helen glanced at Rebecca, then looked in the hanging mirror and straightened her collar. “Yes, Simon invited me several times to see how the inn was progressing. Didn’t he invite any of you?” she asked in horror. Ooh, I didn’t like her.

Rose walked into the living room. “Simon should be down shortly. In the meantime, I’ll make a spot of tea.”

Rebecca looked at the clock on the mantel. “I’ll have another sherry, Rosie, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, Miss Townsend,” Rose said with a kindly smile.

“It’s a bit early in the day, isn’t it?” Emily asked.

Rebecca once again gave her a wicked smile. “Em, it’s later than you think.” She looked at Kathleen. “Kit? What say ye, woman?” she asked happily.

“Maybe just a small one, Rose,” she whispered, measuring with her thumb and forefinger.

Rebecca was asking Rose about the inn when we heard a voice from the doorway.

“I’m not gone long, Rose, and you let this rabble in,” Simon grumbled playfully, his hands on his hips.

Kit squealed with delight and almost jumped into his arms. “Kit, my love, how are you?” he asked affectionately and kissed the back of her hands. She smiled lovingly at him.

“I’ve been better, but I’ve been worse. I’ve missed you.”

He put a hand under her chin and lifted her face to his. “Well, my little one, you’re here now.” He smiled, then looked at Emily.

“Em.” He hugged her, then held her at arm’s length. “You look very smart as usual.”

She blushed and pushed him away. “You look fine, Simon. This sea air agrees with you. Although it’s damnably cold,” she said and touched his cheek.

When he turned to Rebecca, I saw the transformation on his face. I couldn’t help but notice the love between them. I saw tears well in his gray eyes.

“Becky, my wonderful one.” He sighed and knelt in front of her. He picked up her hand and kissed it.

She fondly smoothed his hair...then slapped his head. I hid my barking laugh in a small cough. “You’ve been away too long, you idiot,” she said motherly.

He looked up and laughed, placing his hand over his heart. “For my sins. I would never willingly worry you.” He bowed his head apologetically.

“Oh, get up,” she insisted and he leapt to his feet laughing. Then he noticed Helen.

“Cousin, how…delightful,” he said with an exaggerated flourish.

“Simon, you look fit.” Helen offered her cheek.

For an instant, he hesitated, raised an eyebrow, then gave her a quick peck.

“Now,” he said and noticed me. “Good heavens, I’m an idiot,” he exclaimed. “This is Kate Ryan. Have you met? Good. She’s a photographer, works for Constance,” he announced, and they all looked at me in a different light.

“Really?” Kit said, smiling. “How is she? My, we haven’t seen her in years. Is she still cantankerous?”

I laughed. “Just always.” I noticed Helen’s suspicious glance.

“Kate’s photos will put Seaview Inn on the map, I’m sure of it,” Simon said and looked around. “Sherry? That will never do. Let me show all of you to your rooms and I’ll give you time to settle in, then we’ll all meet right back here at six. Rose makes a wicked martini,” he said to Rebecca, who laughed.

Rose busied herself clearing up the glasses. I saw Helen watching her. “Rose dear, you are a wonder. I’m sure Simon wouldn’t last a week without you cooking and cleaning.”

Rose’s back stiffened and there was a quiet lull for a moment. She then turned to Helen and smiled sweetly. “Aye, mum. And on a good day, I can even darn the master’s socks,” she finished with a sarcastic curtsy and wheeled the cart into the kitchen. No one said a word.

“An uncomfortable moment. The first of many, I’m sure.” Simon sighed. “Come, I’ll show you all to your rooms.”

“You should have a talk with the hired help, Simon.” Helen walked past him. “I’ve taken my usual room,” she said over her shoulder.

“Of course you have,” he said dryly and stood there.

Kit walked over and pulled on his shirt. He bent down and she kissed his forehead. “Show me to my bedchamber, my prince.” With a smile, she offered her arm to Simon.

Emily snorted. “Someday, someone is going to let her have it.”

“Yes, but not this week,” Rebecca mumbled and took Simon’s arm.

I was left alone in the living room wondering when the next floor show would start.

Chapter 6

I heard pots being slammed in the kitchen. I cautiously pushed open the swinging door. “All clear?”

Rose looked up, her face red with anger. She softened and chuckled. “All clear. I apologize, but that woman gets my Irish up every time,” she insisted and opened the refrigerator.

“She does seem to have a way about her,” I said diplomatically as Rose slammed the door.

“A way? Yes, it’s called rude and ignorant. Did ya know she had the nerve to tell me that perhaps I wasn’t the marrying kind? Her exact words: ‘Some women just don’t know how to hold on to a man,’” she said angrily and brushed the hair off her forehead with the back of her hand. “The nerve of that woman. Why Simon doesn’t tell her off, I’ll never know.”

She slammed the beef roast on the counter and I was surprised at the vehemence in her voice. “I think that roast is already dead,” I said in a quiet tone, so as not to irritate. I’ve learned from Maggie.

Rose glared for a moment and laughed. “I’m sorry, I have a frightful temper.”

“Don’t apologize, I have a good deal of experience with ill-tempered women,” I assured her. “I’ll leave you to your culinary skills.”

As planned, we all met in the living room at six. I walked in and Simon smiled gaily. “Kate, you’re late. It’s ten after six. Here.” He shoved a glass in my hand.

“By the end of this week, I’ll be a raving alcoholic,” I insisted but took a sip of the gin and tonic.

“Nonsense. It’s medicinal, purely medicinal,” he assured me. “You’ll need this by the end of the meal, I guarantee.” I gave him a skeptical look as he continued. “Helen will set her sights on you tonight.”

“That sounds like a threat. Why would she do that? I don’t even know her.” I tried to control the quiet panic in my voice.

“You’re fresh blood,” he said morbidly and pushed the drink to my lips.

“Oh, be serious,” I said but took a healthy drink anyway.

Dinner was a culinary delight. Crab cakes for an appetizer. Beef cooked to perfection. I was impressed as were the ladies. Helen, I surmised, was Helen. I noticed Simon watching her from time to time, waiting for her to ruin the meal. He would not be disappointed.

As we ate, Simon said casually, “So tell me all the news from home. How is every snob and don’t leave out a thing.”

Rebecca shook her head and smiled, saying nothing. I figured she was a listener more than a gossip. Emily on the other hand would gladly tell all.

I listened as they talked about Newport, the old and the new, and everything in between. Simon listened, appalled at some of it but seemingly amused by most of the gossip.

Then Kit leaned in and said, “Well, there is another bit.” She looked at Simon, who smiled lovingly at her.

“Tell me all, Kit,” he warned and wagged his fork in her direction.

“John Fahey was seen skinny-dipping in Narragansett Bay, at night,” she said full of pride.

Emily groaned and Rebecca raised an eyebrow. Helen looked extremely bored. I was intrigued.

Simon gasped. “No! You’re not serious,” he said and Kit nodded emphatically.

“And,” she said and quickly continued, “he was not alone.”

“John Fahey, the postmaster?” he asked suspiciously and Kit nodded.

Simon put down his fork. He leaned over to Kit, who waited for his reaction. “Kit… You made that up,” he protested and Kit giggled with delight.

“I did! How did you know?” she asked bewildered.

“John Fahey can’t swim, dear,” Rebecca said from across the table.

Kit looked deflated. “Oh, you’re right,” she sighed, then looked at me. “Whoever heard of a postmaster who couldn’t swim?” 

There was silence. I blinked a couple of times at the absurd question but played along. “I bet he lied on his application,” I said positively and nodded.

Kit’s eyes grew as big as saucers. “I imagine you’re right.”

The remainder of the meal went without a hitch. Then over dessert—a wonderful chocolate layer cake that made it out of the oven without falling—Helen asked me, “So you work for Connie. That must be interesting. Did she tell you she was married to my brother?”

Simon gave me a smug grin and pushed my wine closer to me. I ignored him.

“She mentioned it, but you know Connie. She’s not one to talk about herself very much,” I said, hoping it would end. It did not.

“How long have you been working for her?” she continued, and all eyes were on me.

“A few years.” I felt like a bratwurst on the grill.

“Are you from Chicago?” she asked and I took a deep breath.

“Yes, born and raised. I have one sister and a brother-in-law whom I love dearly. My mother is deceased and my father was a lieutenant with the Chicago Police Department for thirty years, he too is—”

Helen interrupted me. “A policeman? How interesting, what is he doing now?”

“I don’t know, probably annoying the hell out of my mother,” I said dryly.

Rose choked on her wine and Simon muffled his laughter in a cough. “Kate’s following in his footprints,” he said and frowned. “Footsteps.”

Kit and Rebecca looked very intrigued. Emily gave her a skeptical look. Helen frowned and said nothing.

“You’re a policeperson?” Kit asked and I glared at Simon.

“No, I used to be a private investigator,” I said, and now Helen looked at me curiously.

“Yes. Samantha Spade. Now enough, ladies. I think Kate is done on both sides,” he warned playfully but gave Helen a stern look. It didn’t faze her in the least. However, she stopped the grilling.

“You must have been to a great many places, being a photographer.” Kit sighed. “I’ve never been anywhere.”

Helen snorted sarcastically. “Heavens, Kathleen, you went to Paris on your honeymoon and back again three years ago,” she scolded and shook her head.

Kit frowned as if she had forgotten, then she smiled sadly. “Oh, yes, I remember now,” she said in a small voice

I realized then what was happening to her. Simon looked like his heart was about to break as he looked from Kit to Rebecca, who nodded sadly. I had a great-aunt Gertrude who had the same thing happen to her. Little by little, the memories faded until she remembered nothing at all. It was a hideous way to live her final years. I gave Helen a scornful look, but Helen was oblivious as she concentrated on her coffee. I glanced at Emily.

If looks could kill, Helen would be vaporized. It was the most hateful look I had ever seen. Kit, now embarrassed, stood. “I think I may go lie down for a little while.”

Simon stood, as did Rebecca. “Nonsense. Come, Kit dear. Let’s bundle up and go for a short walk. This meal was excellent and I horribly overindulged,” Rebecca said and they walked out of the dining room.

Emily hadn’t taken her eyes off Helen. “You have a tongue like a viper, Helen. How could you be so cruel?” she said as she stood, angrily throwing her napkin on the plate.

I glanced at Simon, who sat at the head of the table and watched the evening deteriorate around him.

Helen gave Emily a hurt look. “What did I do? What’s wrong with Kathleen anyway?” she asked and drank her coffee.

“You know very well she’s becoming forgetful. I warn you, Helen, don’t start with Kit.”

The fact that she had a butter knife in her hand did not go unnoticed by me, Simon, or Rose. Simon leaned over and took the knife out of her hand.

“We just had the carpet cleaned, Em,” Simon said with a wink.

Emily chuckled then and looked at Helen. “I’m sorry, Helen. You just don’t know what you say sometimes.”

Rose appeared and once again cleared the dishes. This time, I offered to help and Rose gratefully accepted.

“Someday, someone will slap that woman,” Rose said as I set the dishes on the counter.

“C’mon, she’s not that bad... Is she?”

Rose thought for a moment and shrugged. “I suppose not.” She busied herself with the dishes.

The evening was mercifully over. As we all walked up the stairs, Rebecca sighed sadly. “This is not the way Simon wanted our first night to go. Girls, we must make a pact. This is important to Simon, let’s try to not let Helen ruin it.”

Emily grunted. “I’ll try even if she won’t.”

I said my good nights, leaving the three of them talking, well whispering, in the hallway. As I lay in the darkness, I had a thought to cut this assignment short if this continued. I felt uncomfortable being involved in the family squabbling. Maybe tomorrow I’d finish up the photos and leave the next day.

I tossed and turned for two hours, then thought of that chocolate layer cake. I threw on my robe and crept downstairs.

Once in the kitchen, I flipped on the small light by the stove. Eyeing the cake, I smiled and got a piece and a glass of milk. After a few bites, I heard talking in the hallway.

“Oops, busted,” I said with a mouthful and waited for someone to walk through the door. No one came in, but I still heard the voices. With my curiosity on edge, I walked to the door and gently pushed it open.

I caught a glimpse of two people but couldn’t tell whom.

“Don’t do this.” It was Rebecca’s voice and she sounded very serious. “Stop it now, Helen. I mean it.”

I figured she was telling her to lay off Kit.

“Don’t be a fool. I’m very serious,” Helen said in a hissed whisper.

“I’ll see you dead first,” Rebecca said in a flat voice, and I heard Helen chuckle sarcastically.

“You’d better see what you can do. I know it’s in his room,” Helen threatened.

It?

Then I heard someone walk down the hall. I peered out the door and saw the back of Rebecca as she stood in the hallway. She slowly walked out of my eyesight, creaking up the staircase.

I stood there for a moment paralyzed. “What was that all about?” I quickly finished my snack and made my way back to my room. As I closed my door, I swore I heard another door click shut. Looking out into the hall, I saw nothing.

“I’m definitely leaving the day after tomorrow,” I said out loud and stood in the darkness.

When my cell phone rang, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Taking it out of my backpack, I fumbled with the blasted thing.

“Hello? Hello?” I whispered stupidly. I hated cell phones. Maggie had gotten me this expensive little thing. I got tired of losing it.

“Hello, hello,” Connie laughed back.

“What in the hell do you want?” I hissed into the phone. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“Only you can be scared by a cell phone, you freak. How’s it going? Having fun?” she asked and I could hear the sarcasm in her voice.

“No. Your ex-sister-in-law is a…” I started, searching for the right word.

“Bitch,” Connie finished simply. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

I explained the last two days and Connie listened on the other end. “That’s typical Newport gossiping. Did you take the photos?”

“Almost. I’m considering taking what I need tomorrow and leaving on Saturday before they make Helen the main course,” I said and Connie chuckled.

“Once you take the photos, do what you want,” Connie said and rang off.

After I got Maggie’s voice mail and left a tender but scathing message, hoping everything was all right, I crawled back into bed. Definitely, I’m definitely leaving Saturday, I thought, and settled in for a very restless night of dreams.

Faceless people chasing me through the woods, grabbing at me all the time.

The same dream that had haunted my sleep over and over again.

Chapter 7

I woke early the next morning, feeling quite…grumpy, which rarely happened. I guess it was the dream I had. Damn it, I haven’t had it in nearly two months. Why now? Maggie’s face flooded my vision. Perhaps that’s why. I missed her. I missed talking to her, and above all, I missed looking into those blue eyes. Crap…

I dressed and took my camera and headed out for the last of my photos. The morning was once again sunny and unseasonably warm for New England in March. The snow crunched under my boots as I headed out behind the inn. As I walked, a feeling of anxiety swept through me. I wanted to go home, and I was still a little irritated Maggie wasn’t here with me. Geesh, first I run from her for nearly two years, and now I wanted her around me all the time.

 I was lost in my self-pity and didn’t hear Simon behind me.

“Good morning,” he said lightly.

I whirled around and clutched my chest. “Crap, don’t do that!” I said with a small laugh.

Simon smiled back and thrust a mug of coffee in my hand. “I like you, Kate. You’re smart, humorous, and savvy. And you’re not bad to look at, either. I adore your green eyes.”

I drank the hot coffee and laughed. Before I could say a word, he continued, “And I like the way you carry yourself. You’re strong and confident, yet there’s a vulnerability I see that you don’t like to expose,” he said and bowed slightly. “In my humble opinion, that is.”

 “Hmm. Thanks. I’ve got enough outside photos. I’ll need to take more of the inside. I don’t mean to brag, but I think they’ll do the trick,” I said quickly, not accustomed to hearing the truth about my vulnerability. I was grateful he didn’t pursue it.

“I’m sure they will,” he said. “Hester did a remarkable job getting the bedrooms ready.”

I was looking at the ground. “Four-leaf clover?” he asked.

“Nope. The other night, I thought I saw someone standing here looking at the house, but when I got my night lens, they were gone,” I explained and Simon gave me a worried look.

“It was right where you’re standing.” I said.

Simon let out a small screech and jumped back, nearly spilling coffee all over. “Are you serious? Please keep this under your bonnet. I’ve got the Thomases coming in two hours.”

“Honestly, it was more than likely a deer.”

Simon sighed with relief. “Good heavens. Don’t scare an old woman like that, Kate.” He wiped his brow with his hanky. “Let’s get back. You can take photos inside before they get here.”

We heard arguing from the living room as we entered the back door. Simon groaned and marched down the hall. I followed close behind.

“Helen, you nasty woman. I swear,” Emily said heatedly as she put her arm around Kit, who was crying softly, her hands covering her face.

Rebecca stood, leaning on her cane glaring at Helen. “Helen, you and I have been through a great deal, but this was the most cruel—”

Helen interrupted her. Her face flushed with anger. “I was only telling the truth,” she insisted. “No one else has the courage.”

Rebecca took a menacing step toward her. The fact that she leaned on her cane took nothing away from the threatening pose. I thought she’d club Helen with it. “The problem with you is that you don’t care who you hurt.”

Simon walked into the room ahead of me. “What the devil is going on?” He shot a look at Helen. He took a deep breath and rubbed his forehead. “Cousin, in about two hours, I will have my first real guests here. Would it be too much to ask if you stayed in your room for the next few days?”

Helen glared at him. “Be very careful, Simon, very careful.”

Simon moved out of her way and I plastered myself against the wall as she stormed past us.

Emily laughed and Rebecca chuckled. “Well, now you’ve done it.”

Simon shook his head. “I’m sorry. I wish I had the courage to tell her to leave,” he said and Rebecca walked over to him and kissed his cheek.

“Don’t worry, dear. All will be fine.” She looked at me and winked. “Come, Kate, take an old woman for a walk,” she said firmly and slipped her arm through mine and we walked down the hall to the back door.

As we walked down the path away from the house, Rebecca leaned on my arm, then sighed. “Let’s sit for a moment.”

I wiped off what little snow was on the park bench by the garden. We sat in silence for a moment or two listening to the sound of the morning birds in the quiet woods.

“So tell me about your life. What do you love? Who do you love?” she asked and I shot a look at her. I had that feeling of being under the microscope again. I always felt that way when I had to talk about myself.

“Well, I-I,” I stammered and felt like a schoolgirl.

Rebecca smiled as she watched me. “What’s the matter? Don’t you like yourself?” she asked firmly and I scratched the back of my neck and chuckled nervously.

“Yes, I do. I just never thought it would be contagious,” I said and Rebecca laughed heartily.

Then I found myself talking as easily to the elderly woman as I did with Simon. I told her about life as a private investigator, about my father’s influence, my sister’s love, and my brother-in-law’s kind, warm heart. I spoke of Maggie’s feisty friendship and my own fears.

“You seem fearless to me. What do you fear, Kate?” 

“Not being able to love Maggie,” I blurted out. I vaguely told her about Liz. “It was a colossal error in judgment.”

We sat there for a moment saying nothing. “There was a time when I just wanted my wooden cabin and to be done with life.”

“You mean ‘get on with life’ don’t you, dear?” The soft concern in her voice pulled at me. “Being done with life somehow doesn’t suit you.”

“I suppose it doesn’t,” I said helplessly. Mercifully, Rebecca changed the topic.

“I hope this week goes well for Simon’s sake.” She sighed and I agreed. “If Helen will just cooperate.”

“What is her problem?” I was honestly intrigued, thinking about their heated exchange the previous night.

“Oh, she’s just mean. Mean in her soul, which I’m not convinced she has. Her family life wasn’t very healthy. Though her parents never divorced, her father was rarely home. Roger, her brother, what a lost soul he was. Poor Simon tried to be close to them, having no brothers or sisters of his own, but they tormented him. His sexuality was obvious from the start. He was too sensitive, too open, and too honest. His vulnerability was seen as a weakness to his family. I give him a great deal of credit. He never left, never capitulated,” she said and smiled fondly. “That’s what Douglas fell in love with. Doug left at nineteen. He attended Harvard business and only came back on holidays. He struggled for a time with his sexuality and was even involved with a woman for a short time. That was so long ago.” She sighed pensively. “He and I spent wonderful times together while he was in college. I would stay for weeks at a time. When he did come home, he stayed with me. He and Simon were meant for each other. I truly believe that,” she said and looked at me.

“Don’t you feel the same way about your Maggie?” she asked bluntly, and I was taken off-guard and answered before I could think.

“Yes.”

“Wonderful! Do you tell her you love her?” Rebecca chimed and I blinked, not knowing what in the world to say. What is it around here? Is nothing sacred?

I glanced at Rebecca and felt the color rush to my cheeks as I stood. “Let’s get back inside, it’s chilly.”

“Oh, I don’t know. It was just heating up there.” Rebecca smiled wickedly as she slipped her arm in mine.

“Rebecca, you’re a wicked old woman,” I said as we made our way back to the house. It struck me then that Rebecca reminded me of Hannah. All at once, I missed being home. No, more to the point, I missed my doctor. Good grief, I thought, it’s only been a day; it may as well have been a year.

Emily and Kit were coming out the back door as we approached. Emily looked angry and Rebecca sighed. “Now what?”

“Oh, nothing. I just can’t bear to be in the same room with her now. She’s so smug,” Emily said too loudly, and Kit hushed her.

“I don’t care. Someday someone will kill that woman,” Emily declared loudly.

Simon was standing behind us with a young couple—a young wide-eyed incredulous-looking couple.

I winced and Rebecca gave Simon a weak smile. He glared at all of us.

“Bob and Linda Thomas, these are…very dear friends of mine,” he said sadly and made the introductions. “Let me show you to your room,” he offered as they turned back into the house. He whirled around and hissed, “I’ll talk to all of you later,” and walked into the house.

I desperately wanted to go home.

Chapter 8

Once again, the alcohol flowed. This is how the very rich live, I thought as the champagne cork blew into the stratosphere.

“A toast,” Simon announced. He filled Bob and Linda’s glasses first, then the others. We all raised our glasses.

Simon smiled. “I read this poem once, and I find that these words fit this occasion. Say these words to each other and you’ll be together forever,” he started. “Proud of you, fond of you, finding all right in you. Light is my step that it always may fly to you.”

Bob and Linda listened as they held hands. The girls got weepy, even Helen. I felt a sting, as well.

“Happy anniversary. Thank you for letting us be a part of it,” Simon said sincerely.

The conversation for the evening was light and easy as Rose came out of the kitchen with a huge tray of hors d’oeuvres.

 Simon breathed a sigh of relief as Helen made a symbolic albeit unbelievable gesture toward Kit and the girls. Cheeks were kissed and all was forgiven.

“So, Bob, I’m very curious as to how you found out about us. We’re not even in the guide,” Simon asked affably as he sipped his champagne.

Bob was a handsome sturdy-looking young man with horned-rimmed glasses. His blond hair and blue eyes gave him a very Germanic look. “Well, a friend of mine lives nearby and told me about your renovating this house. I thought it would be a great getaway. Someplace where we could be alone,” he said and adjusted his glasses.

Linda kissed his cheek. “Isn’t he romantic? I was floored when he suggested this. It was out of the blue,” she said happily.

I watched her for a moment. She was an attractive woman, taller than her husband by two inches or so. I liked her face. She seemed to be constantly on the verge of a wisecrack, with her brown eyes looking all over.

“I for one am sincerely glad you found us. Welcome. I hope your weekend will be happy and relaxing,” Simon said, giving a paternal look to the girls.

Dinner was once again a gastronomic paradise. Rock Cornish hens, wild rice stuffing with roasted turnips, potatoes, and baby carrots. Simon had the tables set apart for the evening. The Thomases were set at a table in front of the fireplace. The girls were at a table to themselves, and I sat with Simon and Rose near the kitchen door.

“So far so good,” Rose declared as she brought in the main course. “The ladies are behaving themselves,” she whispered and walked by.

Simon raised his glass to their table and they all returned his gesture. Helen still looked out of sorts. “Please let this weekend go without a hitch,” Simon pleaded to the ceiling.

Rose finished serving and sat at the table. “Rose, this is delicious,” I said as I dug in.

“Did you…?” Simon asked with a worried glance and Rose nodded and patted his arm.

“I will right after dinner. It was an ingenious idea of your Miss Worsley. A bottle is being chilled in the kitchen and the basket of fruit will go on the desk. The Thomases will be very surprised,” she whispered. “Don’t fuss, Simon, that’s my department. Everything is fine.”

After the unbelievable dinner, the Thomases decided a walk was in order. As they opened the door, the cold winter air rushed in. Simon shivered. “Don’t stray too far,” he warned as they happily closed the door.

“Ah, young love. Is there anything on earth like it?” he asked no one in particular and turned back into the hallway. Helen was walking up the stairs. “Going to beddy-bye so early, cousin?” he asked. I noticed the hopeful, if not sarcastic tone.

“No, I’ve forgotten something. I’ll be down directly,” she said smugly and continued up the stairs.

“That sounded like a threat,” Simon mumbled as he came into the room. I saw the disappointed look.

“Why so glum?” I asked through my yawn as I put my feet up.

Simon flounced on the couch with a dramatic flourish. “I want her to go home.” He pouted childishly, playing with the buttons on his vest.

“No offense to your relations, but I know what you mean,” I agreed and picked up a book.

Simon and I glanced at the foyer when we heard someone bounding down the stairs.

“That sounded like a herd of buffalo,” he said seriously just as Helen walked into the living room.

We gave each other a stupid look and Simon tried desperately not to laugh. He lay back down and covered his face with a pillow.

“Simon, grow up, for heaven’s sake,” Helen scolded and slapped his legs as she passed him. She sat opposite him in the chair by the fire. He took the pillow away from his face.

“You first,” he said lightly and Helen glared at him. He sighed dramatically and hugged the pillow. “What happened to your sense of humor?” he asked absently. “Did you check your luggage?”

Helen ignored him and I buried my head in the book, not knowing or caring what I was reading. I looked at my watch—it was only ten. However, I felt like it was three in the morning. I was about to say good night when Helen spoke.

“So, Kate, did you get all the photos you needed?” she asked as she drank her coffee. Simon groaned and headed for the bar. He came back with two tiny elegant glasses and handed one to me.

I raised an eyebrow and Simon gave me a fatherly look. “Take your medicine,” he whispered almost inaudibly. I glared at him and took the glass. I had no idea what was in it, but it was tasty.

“I think I got enough. I took the liberty of taking a few shots from various angles of each of the rooms. Yours included, Helen, I hope you don’t mind.” I noticed her back stiffen for an instant.

“Why no, I don’t mind at all. Anything I can do to help Simon,” she said. “Being a private investigator, you must have great stories to tell.”

Nice segue.

“Not too many. It was basic work,” I said. Immediately, Liz’s face flashed through my mind. For an instant, I felt that old feeling. The anxiety started. My mouth went dry and I started perspiring. The room felt as though it was getting smaller. Damn it, I hadn’t had an anxiety attack in quite a while. I felt a little warm and hoped it was from the drink.

“Oh, come now, certainly you have a dangerous story to tell,” Helen insisted with a smile.

“Cousin, not all are so willing to talk of their past as you,” Simon said, his voice sounding pensive.

Helen shot him a look. “I don’t see why, unless one has something to hide,” she said and Simon’s complexion turned decidedly pale. I looked at both of them. Christ, what a bitch.

“Helen, don’t,” he pleaded. “That was so long ago.”

I felt sorry for him, but I felt a family skeleton about to make an appearance. “It’s getting late and I’m exhausted. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.” I set down the drink.

Simon rose and smiled apologetically. “Good night, Kate.”

“I do hope you’re not leaving on my account, dear,” Helen said sweetly.

“Not at all, I’m just tired. Too much to eat and drink,” I said lightly and walked upstairs. I stopped when I heard Simon’s angry voice.

“Cousin, I’m tired of you and your nasty attitude.”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that. You above all. Do you remember what your little escapade cost your mother and father?” she said vehemently. “They had to go on a holiday to get away from the gossip.”

“The gossip you started no doubt,” he said evenly.

I stood, frozen on the stairs as I listened. I heard ice tinkling in a glass.

“There was no need for me to start it, it was already spreading. My God, Simon, he was a boy.”

“He was not a... It was almost fifteen years ago. Good God, woman you are an old…” he said loudly, then stopped himself. “Someday, someone will cut out that vile tongue of yours,” he threatened.

I stood there, knowing I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but my curiosity got the better of me.

“That’s right, Simon, hide in your drink. That’s what you’ve always done. You should have left Newport. You would have saved yourself a great deal of heartache. Douglas knew that, that’s why he left when he was a young man.” She let out an evil laugh. “Douglas. What a weak man he was.”

I jumped as I heard glass breaking as if Simon threw it. “If I ever hear you say his name again in that vein, I will…”

I heard footsteps and made a dash for the kitchen. I peeked out the swinging door just in time to see Simon’s tall frame angrily marching back to his rooms.

“Now what?” I asked, and with that, someone came barging through the kitchen door, which banged into me and sent me reeling backward into the kitchen table.

“Good Lord, Kate, I’m sorry,” Rose exclaimed as she rushed over to me.

I put my hand to my forehead, feeling the small bump. “No harm done. I have a hard head.”

Rose pushed me into a chair. “What are ya doin’ standing…?”

The kitchen door swung open again. Bob and Linda stood there wide-eyed. “Is everything all right? We just heard Simon and his cousin arguing.”

Rose raised an eyebrow and handed me the ice. “I don’t know, folks. I’m sorry. Ya might have caught them at a bad time. I’ll be right back.” She quickly skirted around the befuddled couple. I just sat there holding the ice to my forehead. 

“Give me your coat, sweetie. I’ll be right back,” Linda said. “Nice place you found, husband.” She kissed the top of his head and walked out.

Bob adjusted his glasses. “This is the right place,” he said almost to himself.

That was an odd thing to say, I thought as I watched him; he seemed deep in thought, looking awkward and uncomfortable.

“Coffee?” I asked, not knowing what to say.

“Huh? Oh, no, thanks.”

The kitchen door was getting a workout. Linda grinned as she walked in. “This might be the right place,” she said as she ate a grape. “There’s a nice chilled bottle of champagne and a basket of fruit awaiting us, Mr. Thomas. They may be a little screwy, but they’re generous.”

She looked down at me. “What happened to you?”

I saw the amused look on her face and laughed. I liked this woman. “I was attacked by the kitchen door.”

Linda laughed and took the ice away. “Hmm. The door won, eh?”

“Most definitely.”

Bob was not listening. His mind, it would appear, was on something other than my klutzy behavior.

“Sweetie, what is it?” Linda asked.

He turned and looked at her. I was silent as I watched the pensive, or was it sad, look. As if broken from his reverie, he blinked and smiled.

“I love you,” he said. Now I felt like I was intruding but had no way gracefully to get out of their way. “It’s nothing. I-I just want this week to go well, that’s all.”

For an instant, I thought he sounded so sad. By the look on his wife’s face, so did she.

 “Good. Me too,” she said lightly and pulled at his hand. “Now I’m sure Kate is trying to think of a safe way to get out of the kitchen. What say we go upstairs, pop open that champagne, and do some passionate necking?” She wriggled her eyebrows.

I chuckled at the look of embarrassment on Bob’s face as he glanced at me. Linda laughed, as well.

“Good night, Kate,” she called as she yanked Bob out of the kitchen.

“Good night. Be careful with that cork. You’ll put your eye out,” I called after them.

With everything else going on, it could happen.

Chapter 9

I had just gotten into bed when my phone rang. Where the hell was it? I jumped out of bed and felt like a bloodhound as I followed the ring. Finally, I pulled it out of my bag.

“Hello?”

“You forgot where you put it, didn’t you?” Maggie said and I laughed as I heard the smug tenor of her voice.

“I knew exactly where it was,” I insisted and got back into bed.

“Uh-huh. Are you lying to me?”

“Yes.”

We both laughed as I settled against the pillow. “How’s the emergency?” I asked and yawned widely.

“Finally done. It was a mess. I’m glad I could be there. I felt useful, Kate,” she said, and I heard the amazement in her voice.

“You are useful, Maggie. You sound surprised.”

She said nothing for a moment and I just listened to the silence and waited. “I held a small boy in my arms today,” she started in a quiet voice. “His mother was one of the injured passengers in the accident. She was rushed to the OR, and he was alone. I sat with him for five hours as he cried and told me about his mother. His father left them, and it was just the two of them. She works two jobs, he cleans the apartment because she’s so tired when she gets home, he said.”

She stopped and I heard the catch in her voice. I took a deep quivering breath, feeling the tears well in my eyes. “Will she be okay?” 

“It’s touch and go. She’s out of surgery but in critical condition. I don’t know what to do about Tony. That’s his name.”

For the first time, I heard the fondness in her voice, and I grinned. “How old is he?”

“Nine. They have no relatives in Chicago. So I—”

She stopped and I grinned again. “So you took him home with you,” I finished for her. I heard the deep breath.

“Yes, I did,” Maggie said and I heard the hesitation in her voice. “He has nowhere to go, Kate, and I couldn’t let them keep him in a foster home for three weeks. I just couldn’t. So I have him for tonight. Nan is taking him for a couple days and Donna has him for the next three. They’re two other nurses who are able to watch him. They fell in love with the little guy, too. Then we’ll see.”

I heard the eagerness in her voice. “You’re a good woman, Dr. Winfield, and tomorrow when I’m through here, I’m coming home to meet this kid that stole your heart.” I wiped the wayward tear that ran down my cheek.

I heard her laugh mingled with a sniff. “He’s asleep on the couch. You don’t mind?”

“Nope. It’ll give Chance someone to play with. I was gonna get her another dog, but this is better.”

“Very funny,” she said dryly. “I miss you.”

For a moment, my heart raced. “I miss you, too. I wish you were here with me right now, lying next to me.”

“I wish that, too. Are you in bed?” she asked and I raised an eyebrow.

“Yes,” I answered. “A-are you?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Did she just purr?

“Are you wearing those flannel PJs?” I asked. Images of the good doctor danced in my head. My heart was racing.

“Mm-hmm. And you?”

“Uh, no. I’m not wearing flannel,” I said when the moisture returned to my mouth.

“What are you wearing?”

“A smile?” I offered and heard nothing from Maggie. “M-Maggie?” Still nothing. I grinned evilly. “Are you having impure thoughts, Dr. Winfield?”

“Mm-hmm” was her response. “We’d better hang up, Miss Ryan.”

I heard the tremor in her voice and had to agree. It was getting decidedly warm in my room. “Good night, Maggie,” I whispered. “Have a good sleep. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, Kate. Good night,” she whispered in kind. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I said and settled against the pillows.

“That’s good to know,” Maggie whispered. “Now put the phone down and don’t forget it. Good night.”

I lay back and looked out the window at the cold starry night and grinned like a fool as I drifted off to sleep.

I sat up in bed as if shot out of a cannon. What did I hear? Was I dreaming? My heart was pounding as I felt a cold breeze under my door. I got out of bed and struggled into my jeans and a sweatshirt. Through the darkness, I located my shoes. I slipped into them and quickly walked to the door. For some unknown reason, or perhaps just because my PI instinct reared its head, I cautiously opened the door. Maybe it was pure fear.

The hallway was dark as pitch as I crept out of my room. At the end of the hall, I noticed Helen’s door wide open. I walked down and stepped into her room. The French doors leading to the balcony were opened and the winter wind wildly blew the sheer curtains.

The scar on the back of my neck began to itch when I had the feeling I was not alone. I stood paralyzed in the center of the room.

“Helen?” I asked, summoning all my courage. I waited for an answer, then hoped I didn’t get one.

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of something moving. As I turned in its direction, I was knocked into the bed, painfully hitting my forehead on the footboard. I heard the retreating footsteps as I struggled to get to my feet, only to feel the blood rush from my head.

“Crap,” I muttered thickly. Instead of running after whoever it was, I staggered to the balcony. The blustering wind whipped around as I saw the wooden railing broken in two. Cautiously, I walked onto the balcony. As I looked over the side, I saw what I feared.

A woman’s contorted body lay on the ground below. It didn’t take much to realize it was Helen with her lifeless eyes staring up at me. I felt nauseated as I stumbled back into the room.

Then the light went on and Rebecca and Emily were standing in the doorway, white as ghosts.

“Good Lord, what happened?” Rebecca exclaimed as they walked over to me.

“Don’t touch a thing. Go back to your room. Stay together,” I ordered and stumbled past them.

They didn’t listen but followed me downstairs. All at once, doors opened and everyone started talking and asking questions, following me like the Pied Piper.

Simon met me at the foot of the stairs. I noticed he was completely dressed. “Good heavens, what’s all the commotion?” he asked, then gaped in horror when he saw me.

“It’s Helen,” I mumbled and ran, well, stumbled to the living room and opened the French doors. The wind whipped the snow around me, but I saw Helen’s grotesque figure sprawled out.

The girls screamed; so did Simon. “Don’t touch a thing,” I said sternly. “Call the police. Tell them there’s been an accident.”

“Is she…?” Rebecca clutched her robe to her throat. I nodded sadly and said nothing.

“Simon, go quickly,” I said and he tore his gaze from Helen’s body.

“Stay inside, everybody, please,” I begged as they stood in the doorway. Bob guided his wife and the girls back into the living room.

I knelt beside Helen’s body. She was indeed dead and I noticed blood on her nightgown. I looked up to see Simon standing there.

“How did this happen?” he asked dumbfounded. I didn’t answer. I was trying to examine as much as I could without touching anything.

I noticed the remnants of the balcony railing on the ground next to and, I assumed, underneath Helen. I heard the siren in the distance.

“I don’t know, Simon, but someone was in that room and pushed me out of the way,” I said definitely and felt the bump forming on the side of my temple.

Rose walked onto the porch. “Get inside, you’ll freeze. The police are here, Simon. You’d best go meet them,” she said, then looked at me. “Come in, Kate. Let me have a look at that,” she said and motioned to my head. “God, this is awful.”

It was indeed awful. Someone pushed that cranky gossiping old woman right off the balcony.

Sheriff Adam Sinclair and Dr. Jack Stockton stood over the body. I stood behind them and pulled my coat around me.

“Hells bells,” Adam hissed as he squatted next to poor Helen.

Dr. Stockton took charge, snapped on a pair of rubber gloves, and squatted over Helen’s body, as well.

“Yep, she’s dead,” he muttered to Adam, who gave him a stupid look.

“I know that,” he insisted and Jack smiled warily.

“Make sure the area is sectioned off. We’re not going to get much in this snow,” Adam said and motioned to his deputy. “Don’t step on too much and muck up the area.”

The deputy, who looked even younger than the sheriff and the doctor, swallowed hard as he stared at the body.

“Geezus, Adam. We’ve never had a dead body.”

I hung my head—wonderful.

The sheriff glanced my way and guided him away from the porch. “Let’s not advertise our inexperience, George. Just do what the doc says,” he said through clenched teeth.

George gave him a hurt look. “All right, all right, I’m going.”

Adam rubbed his forehead and walked over to Jack, still avoiding me.

“Let’s get her out of here. Right?” he asked and Jack smiled.

“Well, for sure, she can’t stay here all night, she’ll catch cold.”

“Will you stop with the jokes, Doc?”

“Sorry, Adam. We’ll get her back to the morgue and I’ll have a look.”

Between him and Deputy George, they got Helen into the ambulance. George pulled away; Jack walked back to the house with Adam. I headed back inside and sat by the fireplace.

I remembered this doctor from town. As he watched Simon standing by the fireplace, I thought I saw a look of sadness flash across his handsome features. Simon glanced his way and smiled sadly, then looked back at the fire.

“I’m all done here. I’ll start the autopsy tomorrow,” he said, looking at the sheriff.

Simon shot a look at him. “Autopsy? What on earth for?”

Adam Sinclair interrupted him. “Mr. Merriweather, we need to find the cause of death. It’s routine.”

Simon took a step toward him. “Routine? To cut someone open as if they were nothing?” he said on the verge of hysteria.

Jack gently put a hand on his shoulder. “Mr. Merriweather, please trust me. We have to do this. I’ll take very good care,” he said and Simon softened.

“Thank you. I apologize.” Simon turned and sat on the couch.

With the doctor gone, Adam Sinclair looked around the room and took inventory of the guests. I gave him a wary look—he looked a little lost.

“Okay. Who found the body?” he asked and took a deep breath.

Here goes nothing, I thought as I raised my hand. He looked at me and nodded.

“I heard a noise that woke me,” I said. Adam Sinclair scribbled in his notepad as I continued, “When I went into the hall, I noticed Helen’s door was open. Upon going into her room, I noticed the balcony doors were open, and I saw the broken railing. Then somebody knocked me over and took off. I went to the balcony and saw Helen’s body on the ground.”

Adam glanced at the bruise that, by now, was sure to be forming on the side of my face. “So you’re saying that someone was in the room?”

I raised an eyebrow. Oh, my Good Lord. “Y-yes, that’s what I’m saying,” I said slowly.

“Okay…” was all he said. I realized then he was completely new at this. He scribbled in his notepad and stood. “Well…”

I had a horrifying thought he was going to leave. “Sheriff, would you like to see the bedroom?” I offered innocently.

“O-of course, I was just going to ask,” he stammered slightly. I had a feeling he was angry with himself for not thinking of it.

Simon gave him a curious glance and led him upstairs to the bedroom. Adam looked around, then turned to me. “This is where you were?”

I rubbed my aching head, knowing this would take forever. “Yes, as I said, I came into the room and had a feeling I wasn’t alone. When I turned, someone shoved me. I hit my head on the footboard of the bed. And, like I said, I got a glimpse of someone running out the door.” I watched him as he nodded and scribbled once again. Simon just watched with interest and a smirk.

“It’s late. Please have everyone stay out of this room. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He looked at both of us.

“Will you want to question everyone tomorrow?” I asked, and once again, he grimaced slightly.

“Yes. I’ll be back in the morning. Hopefully, Doc will have some answers then also,” he said. I knew he was trying to sound confident. “I’ll have my deputy come back and spend the night here.”

On his way out the door, he saw Rose at the foot of the steps. “Miss…” he started.

“Mrs. Degnan,” she said stiffly and he nodded.

“I’ve told Simon. Please have everyone stay out of Ms. Caruthers’s room. Don’t touch a thing and please stay away from the crime scene.”

I noticed a slight exchange of glances between them, then Rose nodded and put a hand to her neck and stepped aside, and Adam was gone.

It was three a.m. and everyone looked like deer caught in the lights of an oncoming truck. I watched all of them as Rose came in with coffee.

“I cannot believe Helen is dead,” Rebecca said numbly as she drank her coffee. Emily and Kit agreed.

“We’re so sorry,” Linda said, holding Bob’s hand. I noticed Bob watching Simon’s every move. I hoped we didn’t have a homophobe in our midst.

Simon smiled sadly. “Thank you, Linda. In light of this ghastly occurrence, I think it only right to refund you entirely. Please, allow me to do this,” he added, putting up his hand to her protests. Bob showed no signs of arguing.

“So... Someone killed poor Helen,” Emily said. I heard no emotion in her voice.

Kit’s eyes grew wide. “Who would want to kill Helen?” she asked, seemingly stumped.

Everyone looked at one another. I had a feeling I knew what they were thinking: Who wouldn’t?

Chapter 10

I woke early, feeling drugged as I dragged myself out of bed. After a hot shower, I felt revitalized and I made my way downstairs.

Alone in the peace and quiet, I made a pot of coffee and sat at the table looking out at the cold but sunny morning. My entire body ached. “I’m too old for this,” I groaned.

“As am I,” Simon said from the doorway. He smiled sadly. “How are you feeling? Better, I hope, than you look.” He sat opposite me as I poured him a cup.

“Thank you.” He sighed. He looked exhausted. With dark circles under his eyes, I thought for the first time he looked older than his years. I reached over and gently touched his hand.

“I’m sorry, Simon,” I said; he squeezed my hand.

“I cannot believe she’s dead,” he said, shaking his head. “Who would do such a thing?”

I glanced at him and looked out the window.

“Kate, when you don’t look at me, I think perhaps you don’t like me,” he said softly.

I looked at him then. “Simon, I have to be honest. Later on, the sheriff will be back, and if he’s got any brains, he’ll ask the right questions. I overheard Rebecca threaten Helen the other night. We all heard Emily do about the same, and it will come out. The Thomases heard her. When they’re asked, they’ll tell Adam. Hell, I found Helen’s body,” I said and Simon sat there dumbfounded.

“What are you saying?” he asked slowly, turning white.

“I’m saying we’re all suspects.”

He looked out the window and said nothing. He then turned to me and smiled. “Then, Kate Ryan, you’d better start thinking like a private investigator. I will not have the girls dragged through this mess. Please, find out who did this.”

I gaped at him. “What? Simon, I’m no longer a PI. The police do not like private investigators butting in. There’s no way Sheriff Sinclair would allow it and I don’t blame him.”

Simon snorted. “Let me give you a little background on Sheriff Sinclair. Two years ago, he admitted he was content being a social studies teacher at Seaview High School. Then when Sheriff Redding retired and moved to Arizona, the city council couldn’t justify giving the job to George, and rightfully so. You met George last night. They turned to Adam. Somehow, they got wind of the fact that he had taken several criminology courses in college. This made him the perfect dupe, oh, pardon me, candidate for the job. The fact that no one ran against him was inconsequential. He won by a slim margin anyway—”

“Simon—”

“Let me finish,” he said, holding up his hand. I took a deep breath and listened. “Since I moved here, it’s been quiet and dull—nothing ever happens in Seaview. Well, there was old Will Cummings dancing naked on the bar last St. Patrick’s Day. I don’t think Adam Sinclair has ever seen a dead body.”

“That’s beside the point. Let’s just see what happens today,” I said firmly.

Simon pouted and drank his coffee.

We both jumped when we heard the front door slam. “Now what?” I tiredly hauled my body out of the chair.

Simon laughed. “Perhaps you need vitamins,” he said and followed me down the hall.

Linda came bounding down the stairs. “Bob, get back here and fight like a man,” she hissed angrily. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw us. “Oh, sorry,” she said and calmly walked down the rest of the stairs.

“Good morning,” Simon said with a playful smirk. “Coffee’s in the kitchen and Rose will be down presently for breakfast. I’m heading back to my room.” He smiled and bowed slightly.

“He’s a character,” Linda said with a chuckle. “Uh, did you happen to see Bob?”

“No, but we heard the front door slam,” I offered. We stood for a moment in awkward silence. “I was going to take a few last-minute photos of the property. I’d better do it while the sun is shining.”

“Want some company?”

Crap. “Sure.”

We avoided the yellow police tape and walked around the other side of the house. I snapped off a few photos while Linda kicked at the snow.

“Where’d Bob go?” I asked absently.

Linda gave a rude snort. “He’s running,” she said, then added, “In more ways than one.”

I raised an eyebrow from behind the safety of my camera. I heard Linda breathe a heavy sigh.

“Are you married, Kate?” she asked and I smiled slightly.

“Nope. Gay. However, I do have someone in my life if that counts,” I said lightly and Linda chuckled.

“Of course it does. I have a cousin who’s gay. Seems very content,” she said. “Men... Sometimes I really don’t understand them.”

“What don’t you understand?”

“Why they won’t speak their minds, the morons. What is the big deal with that? Women do all the time,” Linda said and I gave her a wary smile.

“Okay, sometimes we do too much, but Bob was never like that, he used to talk. Lately, he’s so far away and he won’t talk about it when I ask. I’ve tried everything,” she said helplessly.

Although I could carry my own in a conversation, when it came to emotions or talking about them, it became a major ordeal.

“How am I ever going to know if he won’t talk to me?” Linda asked and I winced. Maggie’s words almost verbatim.

“Maybe it’s his job. What does he do?”

“He works for an insurance company. He was in London two years. That’s where we met. I was on vacation and saw him in a pub.” She smiled and blushed horribly. “Our relationship started very quickly. We fell in love, and after two weeks, I went home and he called me every night. We planned a wonderful future over the Atlantic. When he came home, we continued and married. It seemed so natural. They sent him back to London last year, and ever since he came back, he’s had long days of being distracted and distant. I don’t know,” she said and took a deep breath.

“What kind of insurance?” I asked as we walked down the path to the woods.

“It’s almost like Lloyd’s of London, only based in New York. They only insure wealthy companies. Bob’s a courier of sorts. He transports whatever companies insure. You know, artifacts, paintings, antiques, that sort of thing,” she said.

Linda watched me and gingerly touched my temple. “You really got bopped, didn’t you? I must tell you, you really took control of the situation last night. Even Bob said you reacted like a cop and not a photographer. How could she just fall off a balcony?” she asked and I glanced at her.

“We’ll just have to see what the sheriff has to say,” I said, not wanting to give my opinion just yet. I was a suspect, and if Adam Sinclair knew anything at all, which I wasn’t sure he did, he’d be asking quite of few questions.

As we walked deeper into the woods, we heard some rustling. We stopped and looked around. Linda got very nervous and I gently took her elbow.

“Let’s get back. I’m sure the sheriff will be here soon.” We turned and headed up the path and the rustling continued.

Soon we were walking in a controlled panic through the snow. Looking around, I saw nothing through the dense pines.

“Kate, what is that?” she whispered and I shook my head.

“Don’t know, keep going,” I urged.

Suddenly, we came to the clearing and the house was in sight. The rustling stopped and so did we. I looked around and saw nothing. Linda was looking beyond me, into the woods, her eyes were wide and she was as white as a ghost.

“Do you see something?” I asked and quickly turned.

Linda was staring blankly. “N-no. I saw nothing, probably a deer,” she said slowly as she frowned. I gave her a skeptical glance.

As we walked out of the woods, we saw Simon standing by the back door.

“I’ve come to fetch you. The inspector is on his way,” he said. “So be on your best behavior.”

We all gathered in the living room. The fire blazed as everyone, except yours truly, stared into the flames saying nothing. Bob was missing and I saw the worried look on Linda’s face. Rose put a hand on her shoulder and handed her a cup of tea.

“He’ll be back soon,” she reassured her and walked into the kitchen where a heavenly aroma of cinnamon was wafting through the house, reminding me I didn’t have breakfast; my stomach growled loudly.

The girls looked exhausted. Death has that effect on people, I thought warily, and sat on the hearth.

“How’s the noggin?” Rebecca asked.

“Hard as ever,” I replied and smiled.

Kit laughed slightly. “You almost look like a raccoon.”

Simon paced back and forth, then looked at his watch. “All right, Inspector, let’s get this over with,” he mumbled.

Rebecca tapped him with her cane. “Sit down, dear.”

Emily was knitting. “I agree. Keeping us on pins and needles.”

Kit stared off into the fire and sighed. “Maybe Helen realized how awful she was and threw herself off the balcony.”

Simon stopped pacing; everyone looked at Kit. I raised an eyebrow and smiled inwardly. Simon kissed the top of her head. “I’m sure that’s what happened, darling,” he said affectionately.

The front door opened and Bob walked in, sweaty and out of breath. Linda made no attempt to go to him, which I thought was very odd. A minute earlier, she was worried. He looked at his wife and said nothing.

“You’re back. Where did you jog? If I knew where you were going, I would have shown you the trail,” Simon said affably and Bob shrugged.

“Just went around the property,” he said, avoiding Linda. “Well, I’ll go and change.”

As he turned to go, Adam Sinclair was standing in the doorway. “Sorry, the door was opened.” He looked at Bob. “Jogging?”

“Yes,” Bob answered curtly. “I was going to shower. Is that all right?”

Adam frowned and took off his hat and gloves while stamping his snow-covered boots. “Of course. Come down when you’re finished.” Bob started up the stairs without another word.

He turned into the living room. “Good morning. Sorry I’m late. We had a problem with Tom Holden’s cow. It got loose and...” He stopped and turned beet red. Everyone was just staring at him. I kind of felt bad for him.

“Anyway, I need to ask a few questions,” he said, and I noticed his hands shook. God, he’s never done this before, I thought.

He looked around. “Mr. Merriweather, where is the maid?”

Simon frowned as his gaze darted around the room. “I... don’t have a maid, Inspector,” he said slowly.

“The young redheaded woman…”

Simon gaped at him and interrupted. “Good heavens, Rose is the manager and chef. If you want to get anywhere with her, don’t ever call her a maid. I made that mistake once and she nearly killed me,” he exclaimed, then realized what he said.

Adam raised a curious eyebrow. “Really?”

“She’s in the kitchen,” Simon said, ignoring his remark. “Down the hall.”

Adam excused himself and walked away.

“Now what?” Emily said angrily. “We sit and wait again?”

After a few minutes, Bob came down into the living room, walked over to Linda, and kissed her cheek. She stiffened perceptibly but smiled and took his hand.

“Sorry,” he whispered and she smiled slightly. However, I noticed her distant behavior.

He looked around the room. “Where’s the sheriff?”

“In the kitchen.” Rebecca sighed.

“What for? He called to have us here and now he’s eating?” Bob asked and Linda looked up and gave him a worried look.

“I agree,” Emily said and stood.

“Look, let’s not get our knickers in a twist,” I said evenly. “We all are on the edge here. Let’s just relax. I’ll go see what’s going on.” And maybe get something to eat, as well.

Simon followed me down the hall. I pushed the swinging door open to hear Adam exclaim, “This is marvelous.”

He was eating a scone lathered in butter and raspberry jam. I was jealous. Rose was smiling as she watched him eat. Simon cleared his throat and Adam dropped the scone.

Simon pointed to his chin and Adam quickly wiped off the jam. “I was just informing Rose, Mrs. Degnan, I’ll need a statement from each of you.”

“And Rose was first?” I offered on his behalf while eyeing the scone.

“Right, right. Let’s all get back to the others,” he said lamely and led them out the kitchen door. I quickly snagged a scone and followed.

Simon gave Rose a scornful look. “Shame on you, Rose. Besides, you’re barking up the wrong lawman. He’s spoken for... Jack Stockton,” he whispered and she laughed.

“You foolish man, Adam Sinclair is not gay. He’s divorced,” she whispered back.

Simon gaped at her in surprise and smiled wildly. “That makes the good doctor…”

“Available,” she said and they hurried down the hall.

I shook my head as I followed them. What a ridiculous situation, I thought. Matchmaking and murder. Wonderful. I ate my scone.

Everyone was assembled in the living room as Adam took out his notepad. I gave him a hopeful look. “Okay then,” he started. I held my breath.

He looked at me first. “Miss Ryan, let’s start with you if you don’t mind. How well did you know the deceased?”

“I didn’t. I never met her until she arrived the other day,” I answered politely.

“Here on vacation?”

“No. I’m here taking photos for Mr. Merriweather. That’s what I do. I’m a photographer,” I answered and watched him.

“Okay, take me through what happened last night once again, will you?” he asked seriously.

I explained—again.

He listened and scribbled in his notepad. “And no one else heard a thing?” He looked around the room. He got a collective shake of the head from each. “And you didn’t get a good look at the alleged intruder?” 

I could tell he was reaching, but not sure for what. Perhaps another scone? He gave me a skeptical look.

“Alleged? Does that bruise on her face look alleged?” Rebecca asked sarcastically. Adam glanced at Rebecca but ignored her sarcasm.

“No, Sheriff, as I said, it was dark. After I was knocked down, I only got a glimpse of whoever it was running out the door.”

“And nobody heard all the commotion?” he asked again.

“We already told you, Marshal,” Emily said.

Adam gave her a withering look. “I’m not a marshal, ma’am.”

Emily waved him off. “Oh, what does it matter?”

“What about you…?” He paused and looked at his notes. “Mrs. Emily Masterson, how well did you know the deceased?”

“I’ll save you some time, Lieutenant, we all grew up together. We haven’t seen Helen in almost a year. Simon invited us for the week for his grand opening. I didn’t hear a thing until Rebecca knocked on my door after she heard the racket in Helen’s room. I don’t know who killed her or why,” she finished in an angry huff.

Adam sat there blinking. “That was concise.”

“I saw a woman dash down the stairs,” Kit’s small voice called out softly. All heads turned to the small bird-like woman.

“Kit dear, what did you say?” Rebecca asked.

“Yeah, what… You saw who?” Adam asked firmly and Kit backed up. I looked to the heavens for help.

“Don’t bark at her, Marshal,” Emily said sternly.

Adam rubbed his hand across his face. “I’m sorry. Please tell me who you saw. Was it Miss Ryan?”

I heard the hopeful tone in his voice and groaned.

“As I said, I saw a woman dash down the stairs. Perhaps she was going to meet Mr. Fahey,” Kit said logically.

“Who is Mr. Fahey?” Adam asked, looking at his notes. He had his pen poised.

We all shared glances and Kit beamed. “The postmaster, you silly.”

Adam blinked a few times and looked at me. I shook my head. His shoulders slumped in defeat. “Okay, skip it,” he said, dismissing her statement.

For the next few minutes, he asked the others the same questions. There was a lull. I figured he didn’t know what to do next. This had to be his first investigation, and from the pale, near faint look on his face the previous night, Simon and the deputy were right—it was his first body.

Everyone sat there and looked at him. I gently cleared my throat. “You’ll probably want all our names and addresses.”

“Yes, yes... I also need to know the next of kin,” he said.

“Roger Caruthers, her brother.” Simon sighed and gave him the address. Adam scribbled it down and nodded.

“I’ll get in touch with him. He’ll have to sign all the necessary papers. I have to get back to the hospital. Jack, Dr. Stockton was there all night. Hopefully, he has a cause of death and we can get this cleared up quickly. Until then, I must ask you all to stay put. Please don’t leave.” He stopped and looked at Simon. “Is there anyone else I don’t know about? Anyone who’s been here this week?”

Simon shook his head, then held up his hand. “I completely forgot. Yes, Hester Worsley. She was hired to decorate the rooms before Kate got here to take the photos.” He looked at me seemingly for corroboration.

Adam held a critical gaze. “Someone you know?”

“Not really,” I said. “She works for a friend of mine, who recommended her for this.”

“And where is this Ms. Worsley now?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Simon and I ran into her at lunch. She was finished here and going to visit some relatives.”

“This is true, just as Kate said, Inspector,” Simon concurred with a slight bow.

“I don’t suppose either of you know where she’s from?”

“Atlanta, I believe she said.” Now my mind was on Hester, and the nagging feeling started, as well.

“Hmm. Unusual name,” Adam said absently as he glanced at his scribbling.

“Atlanta?” Simon asked, hiding his grin. “I believe it’s south of here, no?”

I heard Kit chuckle. Rebecca patted her on the knee to quiet her.

Adam glared at him. “I mean the woman’s name. Hester.”

“Well,” Rose said. “Oscar Wilde must be a favorite of her parents.”

All eyes were on Rose, who looked around the room. “What? Hester Worsley. She’s a character in one of Oscar Wilde’s plays.”

I immediately scratched at the scar on the back of my neck and shivered as I listened.

“I love Oscar Wilde,” Kit said. “Which play?”

Adam groaned and rubbed his forehead. “Okay, let’s not…”

“A Woman of No Importance, I believe,” Rose said.

“I thought it was The Importance of Being Earnest,” Emily interjected.

“No, I—”

“Okay, thanks,” Adam said quickly. “I have enough. I’ll check this Hester Worsley.” He closed his notepad. “As I said, no one leave. I’ll be back later in the day.”

As he turned to go, Rose stood. “I’ll walk ya out, Detective.”

“I’m not a detective,” he said and followed her out the door.

“You look deep in thought, Kate. Is there something wrong?”

I looked up when I heard Rebecca. “No, just thinking,” I said. However, she was right.

“About what?” Simon asked in a quiet voice. “I must agree with Becky. Is there something about Miss Worsley? You said earlier she reminded you of someone.”

“I don’t know,” I said, letting out a deep breath. “Anyway, she can’t be part of this…”

“Do you think she is?” Rebecca asked. I heard the urgency in her voice.

“Why not?” Emily asked. “She was here. Maybe she knew Helen.”

“I have no idea,” I said.

“But there is something.” Simon, reading my mind, still watched me with a curious eye.

“Again, I don’t know.” I watched out the window as they stood by Adam’s cruiser. He was smiling and so was Rose. Adam said something and Rose wagged a finger at him and stormed away. She flew through the front door.

“Have I seen ya before, he says to me,” she mumbled angrily. “He’s only seen me a hundred times on the street but never took notice. Bloody fool. Some detective.”

We watched as she stormed into the kitchen. For a moment, no one said a word. Simon, of course, broke the silence. “I do hope we get breakfast.”

I rolled my eyes and flopped down into the nearest chair. I desperately wanted to go home.

Chapter 11

For the rest of the morning, everyone was silent and subdued. Simon was sitting at the desk in the living room. “Well, this certainly has put a damper on the weekend.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

The girls had gone up to their rooms and the Thomases went for a walk. Rose was in the kitchen, as usual.

“What do you think of Seaview’s finest?” he asked dryly.

I sighed. “He’s in over his head. I’m sure you’re right, this is a first for him.”

“Wonderful,” he grumbled and tossed down his pen.

“Simon, someone killed your cousin. There was blood on her nightgown, a great deal of blood. If my hunch is right, someone probably stabbed her and tossed her off the balcony.” I started to pace back and forth. I could feel Simon watching me, but he said nothing.

“There’s got to be something he or she left behind,” I said absently and looked at the hallway.

“Kate, the nice, inept inspector told us to stay out of the room,” he warned carefully.

I gave him a quick glance. “Simon, I think I hear Rose calling you,” I said and walked up the stairs. Simon followed like a puppy.

I stopped and he bumped right into me. “Simon,” I whispered. “Will you go away? I mean it.”

“Oh, all right,” he whispered.

Kit opened her door. She poked her head out and smiled. “What’s going on?”

I sighed, and with that, Emily and Rebecca opened their doors. Simon gave me an apologetic look when I groaned.

“Kate’s being Sam Spade, dears, now go back to your rooms,” he said lightly. I leaned against the railing and hung my head.

“Really? I want to watch,” Kit said with delight.

Rebecca put her arm around her. “Come, girls, let’s see what Rose is doing,” she said and they started down the stairs. Rebecca looked back at Simon. “All the girls,” she ordered. Simon pouted and followed like a scolded schoolboy.

Helen’s door was slightly opened, so I put a foot to it and opened it the rest of the way. I walked into the room and looked around. Desperately trying not to disturb anything, I walked over to the small desk next to the French doors. Nothing seemed disturbed. However, there was a small piece of paper sticking out of the middle drawer. I really wanted to open it but quelled the idea. All they needed to find were my fingerprints on the desk.

Adam Sinclair didn’t dust for prints. I’d bet my wooden cabin he didn’t know how. This poor guy was really thrown into this. If he wasn’t careful, the city council would call in the state police. That in itself may not be a bad idea, I thought as I looked around. There was blood on the floor and some smeared on the door.

Scratching the back of my head, I turned to see Helen’s suitcase on the bed. I looked at it curiously.

“You’re not supposed to be in here.” Bob’s voice broke my thoughts as I jumped. “What are you looking for?” he asked suspiciously. “Did you forget something last night?”

I walked by him. “Very amusing,” I said, cursing myself for not closing the door.

“Just a second,” he called and I turned around. “Who are you?”

“I’m a murder suspect, trying not to be framed for murder. Just like all of you,” I warned gently.

“My wife and I have nothing to do with this,” he said and little beads of sweat appeared on his brow. I heard the slight hesitation in his voice and instinctively knew he was lying. I cocked my head and watched him.

“Just who are you, Bob?” 

“I’m on vacation at the wrong place, I guess,” he said, and once again, I noticed the slight quiver in his voice.

“That makes two of us,” I said and smiled.

He smiled slightly. “I did not kill Helen Caruthers,” he said and I nodded.

“Neither did I. We have to make sure Sheriff Sinclair finds the one who did,” I said evenly and walked down the stairs, leaving Bob standing there.

I needed some fresh air. Rose was going into Seaview, and I practically begged her to tag along.

As we pulled into town, Rose parked in front of the sheriff’s office. Adam Sinclair was walking our way. “Good afternoon,” he said and looked at Rose.

She responded coolly, “Good afternoon, Detective.”

I saw the disappointed look on his face as he turned to me. “Miss Ryan.”

Dr. Stockton interrupted as he called to Adam while he jogged across the street. “Adam, I have the preliminary report.” He waved the folder in the air.

I was itching to see this report. I felt Adam glance my way. “Why don’t you come in out of the cold?” he said to me. I was somewhat shocked. Was he offering to show me an autopsy report? Me—a prime suspect?

Rose declined. “I have a little shopping to do. I’ll come by when I’ve finished.” She promptly turned and marched down the street. I saw the sour look on Adam Sinclair’s face.

“Come in, Miss Ryan,” he said.

Adam walked into the police station ahead of Dr. Stockton and me. George was sitting at a desk balancing a pencil on his nose.

“Ta-da!” George whispered proudly to himself. Adam slammed the door and George almost put his eye out. He jumped up. “Adam. I was just…”

Adam waved him off and sat at his desk. “I know, taking notes. I noticed a bunch of kids at the end of town. Take a walk and just make sure nothing’s going on, will ya?” he asked and tiredly rubbed his face.

“Sure, Adam,” George said and reached for his gun belt.

My eyes bugged out of my head.

“They’re kids, George,” he said.

George turned red. “Right,” he said and walked out as an older woman walked in.

Dr. Stockton and I stood unnoticed.

“Hey, Adam, you look pooped,” she said and handed him a folder. She quickly walked around the office and headed for the coffee maker. “Why the heck don’t you guys make coffee? First, I called Roger Caruthers. Got an answering machine, left a brief message to call you immediately. Said it was regarding his sister,” she said, rattling off her list as if she’d forget if she spoke too slowly. “I also called the local police there. I did tell them, they said they would get in touch with Mr. Caruthers. It sounded like he was well known in Newport. They’ll be calling back.” She stopped and pointed to the file, then busied herself with making coffee.

We all stood there watching her. She was good. “Nothing on Hester Worsley yet. But Rose Degnan? Now here’s a bad apple if I ever saw one.” She cleared her throat.

Adam avoided my curious look. So he wasn’t so inept, I thought.

“Born Rosemary Eileen Fitzgerald in County Clare, Ireland. Four brothers, two sisters. Both parents are living. Graduated with honors from the Culinary School of Dublin in 1996. Head chef at Ashford Castle in County Galway for almost three years. Married Patrick Degnan 1997,” she said and continued. “Divorced, May 2000. No children. Was hired by Simon last year.” She finished with the coffee and turned back to Adam.

“Rose probably killed her with a spatula. Want me to have George go slap the cuffs on her?” she asked sarcastically and gave him a scathing look.

I bit off a barking laugh.

“Shame on you, checking up on a nice girl like Rose,” she scolded him. “Now Kate Ryan, there’s an interesting file.”

I shot Adam Sinclair an admiring look as I bowed slightly. Jack Stockton hid his laugh in a gentle cough. Adam Sinclair turned bright red.

“Audrey, maybe we…” Adam started, but Audrey was on a roll.

“A private investigator for ten years in Chicago. Her father was a lieutenant on the police force, homicide,” she went on. I was impressed. “It doesn’t say why she quit. She’s now a photographer for a magazine in Chicago. No police record.”

She stopped and took a much-needed deep breath. She then noticed the doctor and me.

“I’m sorry. Hi, I’m Audrey,” she said and offered her hand.

“Kate Ryan,” I said evenly and took her hand.

She blinked and looked down at Adam, who looked nauseated. “Well, don’t I feel like an ass,” she said with a weak smile.

George rushed in, sporting a horrified look and red stain on his shirt. “I fell on Mrs. Dunne’s tomato stand at the IGA,” he said seriously and headed to the bathroom.

Audrey bit her bottom lip. Adam sighed and buried his head in his hands. Good grief, I thought, and sat down.

Jack Stockton sat, as well, and opened the file. “Okay, does anyone want to know about Helen Caruthers?”

I saw Adam glance at me. “Look, Sheriff, why don’t I leave you two to this?” I offered and stood.

“I think Miss Ryan might be able to help,” Jack said to Adam, who looked like he didn’t have a clue what would help.

“Sheriff, I know you consider me a suspect—”

“Every one of you is suspect, Miss Ryan. Why didn’t you tell me you were a private investigator?”

“What would it have meant to you? My being a PI has nothing to do with this mess.”

Adam ran his fingers through his hair but said nothing. Jack Stockton gave Adam a sad smile. “Adam, we’re in over our heads here. If we’re not careful, the city council will have the state police here and you don’t want that.”

“Okay, okay,” Adam conceded and I settled back.

Dr. Stockton put on his glasses and read the file. “I found out she liked Tony Bennett,” he said and laughed, then cleared his throat as Adam glowered at him. “After the initial autopsy, I determined that Helen Caruthers was stabbed in the chest. By the size of the entry wound, which was clean, not jagged, I would say a sharp knife or some other object like that was used. There’s trauma to her head, as well. I believe that’s from the fall when she landed.

“I’ve got a few blood gas tests to do and a toxicology test. I don’t think they’ll show too much. I think you know enough to do your police thing,” he said and took off his glasses.

I listened in silence. It was as I suspected. Somebody stabbed Helen, and from the way the balcony railing was broken, she either fell back or was pushed.

Adam moaned. “Murder. Damn.”

Jack gave him a sympathetic look. “Adam, we both know we were thrown into this job. We thought it would be nice and quiet. We’d make a peaceful living in a sleepy little New England town. Hell, the most excitement I’ve had all week was removing Marge Langley’s bunion,” he said and Audrey chuckled.

“You saw her body last night, Adam. There’s no denying it,” Jack went on and looked at me. “It was a clean entry wound and very deep, at least four inches.”

Jack leaned back and closed the file. “I’m starving.”

“How can you be? Last night, you were eating a huge sandwich in the same room with a dead body,” Adam said seriously.

I looked back and forth between them.

“I wasn’t the one leaning on a dead body, Sheriff,” he countered. “Well, I’ve got a report to fill out and you have a murderer to apprehend,” Jack said regrettably. “You could call in the state police, Adam. All joking aside, we may be out of our league.”

Adam nodded. “Jack, I was hired and have been collecting a healthy paycheck for two years, doing nothing but chasing a cow and getting Will out of the bar. I’ve got to try to solve this. Somebody killed this woman.” He looked at me for a moment.

“Miss Ryan, what does your PI instinct tell you?” he asked and I heard the sarcasm. Judging by Audrey and Jack’s uncomfortable posture, I think they heard it, as well.

I smiled slightly and stood. “I agree with Dr. Stockton, you have a murderer to catch. Good afternoon,” I said and walked out.

I asked Rose about Dr. Stockton as we drove home. I wondered how experienced he was at doing an autopsy.

“Jack Stockton is older than Adam. From what I’ve heard, he decided late to become a doctor and just finished med school four years ago,” Rose said as she watched the road. “He was working in a clinic in Stamford giving penicillin shots to drunken syphilis patients, they say. It was Adam Sinclair who recommended him. Our little town of Seaview needed a doctor, coroner, Indian chief. I suppose Jack was intrigued and took the job,” Rose finished, then chuckled. “I think Simon likes Dr. Stockton, but he declined Simon’s dinner invitation. Now Simon is brooding.”

“Why would Dr. Stockton refuse him? Simon is a nice man.”

“I think Simon has a reputation of being a flirt and not serious. I think Jack wants to settle down. That’s just my opinion.”

“How well do you know Simon, Rose?”

“Well, I’ve been here for a year and we’ve talked of many things. Simon doesn’t like to be alone. There are nights when I have to sit and watch old movies with him until he falls asleep, the poor thing. He needs a keeper, I’m tellin ya,” she said; we laughed at what I assumed was the truth.

“I catch him now and then looking so sad and melancholy. We’ve talked for hours about Doug and how they loved each other. I remember Simon tellin’ me that after Doug was killed and Simon sold the antique shop, he took a few things that were special to him and Doug.” She laughed as if remembering the conversation. I could see Simon Merriweather taking a few odds and ends.

“He took a picture and has it hanging in his room. He took some odd little sculptured piece, as well. Simon said it wasn’t worth anything, but Doug had brought it back from England and was fond of it, I guess, and always looking at it. When Simon questioned him, apparently, Doug said he’d tell Simon one day.” She stopped and took a deep breath. “He never did, God rest his soul. So Simon took the picture and a few other odd artifacts. He laughs, hoping the IRS never finds out, if it’s worth anything that is.”

“I think the IRS is the least of his worries right now.” I took a deep pensive breath.

We drove in silence for a moment or two. “Simon could not have killed his own cousin,” Rose said and stopped. “Kate…” she began in a quiet voice.

I glanced over and saw a look of indecision on her face as she bit at her bottom lip. “What is it, Rose?” I watched her frowning profile. She looked as though she might say something. I knew she was thinking of something. She then took a deep breath and shook her head.

“N-nothing,” she said finally. “Do you think one of us could have killed that woman?”

“Well, there is one nervous sheriff who does.”

I didn’t know what Rose was about to say. I watched her while she drove. A shiver ran through me. Yes, any one of us could have stabbed Helen Caruthers and tossed her body over that balcony—any one of us.

Chapter 12

“Dead?” Connie asked in disbelief.

“As the proverbial doornail,” I assured her.

I heard her take a long deep breath. “How’s everyone holding up?”

“Under the circumstances, pretty well. I’ve got to try and figure this out.”

“Kate Ryan, you let the police handle this and get back here as quick as you can. Next time, you may get more than just your brains rattled,” Connie said firmly.

“I’d love to. However, Constance dear, I found the body and I don’t think the sheriff believes my end of the story,” I said sadly and explained the inexperienced Adam Sinclair, to which Connie groaned out loud.

“So you know what that makes me?”

“Screwed?” Connie replied. “You’d better figure this out. You’d look horrible in an orange jumpsuit. I guess your gal is right,” she finished sadly.

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t go anywhere without a dead body showing up.”

“Amusing,” I mumbled. “Do me a favor. You’ve got that friend, what’s his name downtown.”

“The police sergeant? What for?”

“Have him check on someone for me.” I gave her Bob Thomas’s information.

“Frank owes me one. I’ll have him get it by tomorrow. How’s that?” she asked. “You’d better figure this out quick. Call me tomorrow, late. Keep me posted and don’t get killed,” she said firmly and hung up.

“I’ll try not to.”

I was about to call Maggie when I heard the floor creaking by my door. I walked over, put an ear to the door, and heard footsteps fading. As I opened it, I saw Bob and Linda’s door closing. I was stepping all over my paranoia. They were probably just walking to their room and not standing out by my door listening through the keyhole.

Although the thought of it brought me back to earlier that morning and my short conversation with Bob. I felt sure he was hiding something but couldn’t figure out how he fit into this puzzle. He knew no one. He and Linda were here on vacation. Linda had said he worked for an insurance agency as a courier of sorts.

I hoped Connie could find out something. In the pit of my stomach, I knew there was a link somehow.

“Kate?” Simon called from the bottom of the stairs. “Inspector Sinclair is here again. Your attendance is required.”

I groaned and headed down to meet my fate.

Once again, Adam had us all corralled in the living room. Rebecca, Emily, and Kit sat on the couch. Linda sat in the big chair by the fire and her husband sat beside her on the arm of the chair. Simon was standing by the fire and I sat in the other big chair across from Linda. Rose was standing behind the couch, drying her hands on her apron. We all looked bored, guilty, and fed up. Not necessarily in that order.

Adam stood there for a second, then cleared his throat. “I’ve got the preliminary autopsy report back,” he started and looked at Rose. “Please sit down. This will take a minute,” he offered and Rose sat in the chair by the desk.

“Come, Inspector, we’re all waiting,” Simon said and I noticed the slight smirk on his face. That smirk would land him in jail if he wasn’t careful.

“It appears that Helen Caruthers was murdered. Stabbed in the chest,” he said and looked around the room. Emily gasped and held Rebecca and Kit’s hands.

“My God,” Rebecca said.

“What does this mean?” Kit asked in her timid voice.

Simon smiled sadly. “It means she didn’t throw herself off the balcony, dear heart.”

“Oh,” she whispered, wide-eyed. “You mean it’s murder?”

“Of course it’s murder, darling,” Simon whispered and kissed her forehead.

“So what next?” Bob asked.

Adam looked at me. “Miss Ryan? Do you have any suggestions?” he asked sarcastically.

“Sheriff, as I said earlier, my past profession—”

“What profession?” Bob interjected and glared at me.

I was curious again about Bob. “I was a private investigator and it has nothing to do with this.”

“Hey, I know what nothing is,” Sheriff Sinclair said angrily and closed his eyes. “I will decide what’s important to this case,” he finished calmly.

Kit leaned forward in her seat. “Young man, I don’t think Kate killed Helen.”

Emily agreed. “Nor do I.”

“Why is that, Mrs. Parker?” he asked after scribbling in his notepad. I rolled my eyes as I watched him as he wasted time.

“Because Helen was seen skinny-dipping in Narragansett Bay,” the poor thing said slowly.

Adam just sat there and stared at her. He looked at Simon, who shook his head and shrugged. Bob groaned and Linda elbowed him in the ribs.

“It’s true. She was seen with John Fahey, the postmaster,” she finished and sat back. “So you see it couldn’t be Kate.”

Adam, still looking like a deer caught in the headlights, started breathing again. He was at a loss for words.

Okay, let’s get to reality or whatever this is, I thought. “Sheriff, listen to me. What I told you is the truth. Someone did kill Helen, but it wasn’t me, if that’s what you’re thinking. Yes, I found the body, but there was someone in the room who bashed me on the head and flew out the door,” I said. “Yes, I was a private investigator—” I started and Bob interrupted me.

“Then that was the reason you were in her room this morning?” he asked.

I hung my head. Busted.

 Adam gave me a skeptical look. “Really? And why were you in her room after I told you not to?”

“She’s trying to figure out who killed Helen,” Emily blurted out.

“That’s right,” Kit chimed in.

“And if you want my opinion…” Rebecca said firmly.

“What about my woman on the stairs?” Kit whispered.

All at once, all hell broke loose. They sounded like chickens clucking away.

“Helen was a mean nasty woman,” Emily said. Adam tried to write that down.

“A vengeful, gossiping woman who didn’t care who she hurt.” Rebecca pointed to his notepad. Adam nodded and continued scribbling.

“Yes, well, we heard you threaten her when we first got here.” Bob stood and Linda pulled on his arm.

“Wait? Who threatened who?” Adam asked as his voice squeaked. He desperately tried to keep up as he flipped his notepad.

I sighed and put my head back.

“And we heard him threaten her, as well,” Bob accused and pointed at Simon who raised his eyebrows, then wagged a disapproving finger at him. I lifted my head on that one; I had forgotten that.

“Who? You threatened the deceased?” he asked and frantically ran his fingers through his hair.

“Just a minute. Simon wasn’t the only one. I didn’t like her, either. She had a vile tongue, that one,” Rose said, as if not wanting to be left out. “Ya can write that down in your little book, Detective,” she said with her hands on her hips and gave him a defiant look.

Bob was accusing Simon. Then he pointed a finger at the girls. Rose was defending them all, and Adam looked like he had lost any control he foolishly thought he might have had. He looked from one to the other and closed his overworked notepad. I saw the frustrated pose and winced.

“Okay, enough,” he said, trying to be calm.

Simon was smiling, looking bored as he listened to Bob, who was being pulled away by his wife. I noticed an unwarranted intensity in Bob as his face turned red.

The girls now were arguing with Bob. This was going no place, very, very quickly. I’d never get home at this rate. Home—oh, hell, I didn’t call Maggie.

“Folks, please be quiet,” Adam said louder.

No one listened. Finally, he put two fingers in his mouth and blew as hard as he could. The shrill whistle stopped all of them in their tracks. Simon put a finger in his ear and winced.

“Now all of you shut up and sit down!” he barked. “Or I’ll take you all down to the station and lock ya up.” He rubbed his forehead. Everyone took their original places and said nothing.

“Geezus!” he exclaimed helplessly. “From all the cackling, it would appear that Helen Caruthers was not well liked by any of you. So that makes all of you suspects.”

“I don’t see how my wife and I can be put in that category, Sheriff,” Bob exclaimed.

“Until I get this mess straightened out, everybody is a suspect,” he said and glanced at me as I watched the show.

“Now I want to talk to Miss Ryan...alone,” he said and everyone looked at one another, then slowly left the living room. Emily and Rebecca mumbled to themselves as they left.

Once alone, Adam pulled up the desk chair and sat in front of me, looking as though he had no clue what to do next.

“Miss Ryan, I won’t deny I’m out of my league here, but do not make the mistake of thinking I’m stupid. I was hired to do a job and it’s my responsibility to make sure it’s done,” he said.

My respect for him went up a few notches.

“Sheriff, I will tell you what I know,” I offered and he sighed with relief. “I understand your predicament and I know I’m a suspect.”

I told him that Bob Thomas was right. The girls were overheard threatening Helen. I told him about hearing Rebecca threaten Helen and of Rose in the kitchen. Yes, Simon argued with Helen. “All of them seem to have a reason, Sheriff. But I don’t know if they had the ability. Can you see any one of them throwing Helen off a balcony?”

“I could see Simon doing it,” he said firmly. “This Thomas guy…”

“Maybe you should check up on him, as well,” I said, hoping he would think of searching everyone’s room. There was a murder weapon somewhere unless the murderer took it with him.

“So Dr. Stockton thinks she was stabbed?” I asked absently and Adam watched me. “Did he do any further test to find out what was used?”

He gave me a skeptical look. I know he still didn’t completely trust me. Perhaps he thought I was trying to throw him off the track, away from me. Or perhaps, Sheriff Sinclair didn’t know what to think. I knew he had to be careful; I watched the doubtful look.

“Sheriff, I know what you’re thinking. I was a private investigator. I know my way around a crime scene and I could easily manipulate this and turn it to my advantage. Right?” I looked him in the eye.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” he concurred. However, he continued answering my questions. “Like he said, Jack figures a knife of some kind. At first, he hoped it was an accident and part of the railing penetrated her chest. But no go. The wound was clean, not jagged,” he answered and waited.

“How many times was she stabbed?” I leaned forward.

“Once. What does that mean?” he asked and leaned forward, as well.

I shrugged. “More than once might indicate passion, anger, hatred. Once is just…murder.”

Adam raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Just murder.”

“Did you notice that the railing was broken? That’s a pretty heavy wood railing.” I paced back and forth.

Adam watched me as I went through my ritual. “Was that the only wound?” I asked and stared at the fire.

“Jack said there was a trauma to her head, but he felt that was from the fall.”

“I’m sure he would be able to tell if it was or not. I mean, if she were hit with something, he would know,” I said almost to myself.

I saw him scribbling in his notepad as I spoke. “What did Jack say about the weapon?” I asked. Adam stood and walked over to me.

“A knife maybe,” he offered.

“The wound was what, four inches deep?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he answered automatically.

I looked up at the ceiling. Man, I’d like to get back into that room.

“Don’t even think about it.”

I smiled slightly. “You’re right. You’re the only one who should be checking that room and every other room in the house for that matter,” I said in a meek voice; meek is not a color I wear well. I hope I pulled it off.

By the disgusted look on his face, I knew he realized he needed a search warrant. He picked up his cap. “I’ll be back in an hour,” he said firmly and walked out.

I sat on the couch; I was exhausted. Simon poked his head in. “I heard the entire conversation. Why is he coming back?” he asked, and for an instant, I didn’t want to tell him and he knew it. He smiled sadly but said nothing. I felt a pang of guilt as he sat by the fire.

“He’s coming back to search the house, isn’t he?” he asked, watching the flames.

I watched him. “Is there any reason why he shouldn’t?”

“No, no reason. I don’t have the murder weapon.”

“Simon, I don’t think—” But I didn’t know what to think now. After overhearing Simon arguing with Helen, I wasn’t at all sure of anyone. Even Bob was a curious thing.

“Poor Kate. You came up here to take photos and now we’ve gotten you involved in a family mess. I’m sorry,” he said sincerely.

“It’s not your fault, Simon. Family messes seem to be my karma. Although this is the first time I’m a murder suspect.”

How do I get myself into these situations?

Chapter 13

“Mr. Merriweather, I have a search warrant for the entire house.”

I heard Adam Sinclair’s now familiar voice as I came down the stairs. Simon stepped back and Adam walked in, stamping his boots on the mat.

“If you wouldn’t mind having all your guests come downstairs.” Adam’s tone was official and screamed no nonsense. I hoped Simon heard the screaming.

Simon bowed slightly. “As you wish, Inspector,” he said gravely and turned.

“I’m not an insp…” Adam Sinclair started and threw up his hands in what I thought was resignation. Before this was over, he’d be lucky to be the town dogcatcher much less an inspector.

He saw me then. “Miss Ryan.”

“Sheriff, you’ve come prepared.” I smiled slightly. He did not return the smile.

“Yes, I’m not as inept as you might think,” he said rudely. I raised an eyebrow but said nothing. “And I haven’t heard about your Hester Worsley yet.”

“She’s not my—”

I stopped as one by one everyone came out of his and her rooms, most grumbling all the way down the staircase, and stood in the foyer. We listened while he explained the warrant.

Emily looked indignant. “I don’t like the idea of someone rummaging through my personal belongings.”

Kit smiled sheepishly. “I don’t mind. Young man, you take your time.”

“Thanks,” he said. As he slowly mounted the stairs, I heard him mutter, “I’d better not find Mr. Fahey.”

Bob and Linda came out of their room. Linda smiled and Bob glared at him. “I know it’s your job, but don’t think you can take advantage here,” he said heatedly and Linda shot a worried look at her husband. She took his arm and led him downstairs.

I made up my mind to keep an eye on Bob.

Adam hesitated, then looked back at me. “Miss Ryan, Mr. Merriweather, please come with me. I don’t want anyone to think I’ve tampered with anything.” So much for keeping an eye on Bob, I thought, and followed him.

Outside, the clouds rolled in and the weather turned decidedly rotten. The temperature dropped and the wind howled through the windows.

“Perfect,” Adam mumbled as he opened the door to Helen’s room. He looked around and I did the same.

Simon stood, leaning against the doorjamb, examining his fingernails. Once again, I found it curious that the suitcase on the bed was opened and still neatly packed.

“Something odd?” Adam asked.

I shrugged and looked around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Adam scratched the back of his head. Not knowing what to do next, I walked over to the bathroom and flipped on the light. Adam followed me and I stepped out of the way for him. He grunted a thank you and walked in.

The bathroom was as neat as a pin. Nothing seemed out of place. I noticed nothing was in the wastebasket.

“Okay, you’re frowning again. What are you thinking?” Adam asked impatiently.

“Everything is neat,” I said.

Simon chuckled. “Helen was neat if nothing else.”

I shook my head. “No, I mean too neat. No toothbrush, no toiletries, nothing in the wastebasket. And her luggage,” I continued and walked into the room. “Why is it on her bed?” I asked and Adam looked confused. I couldn’t blame him—so was I.

“Maybe she was unpacking,” Adam offered.

“She was already here one night. I don’t know, but when I go someplace for an extended stay, the first thing I do is unpack,” I said logically.

Adam opened the small dresser drawers. “Nothing.”

“I don’t know.” I rubbed my forehead. I noticed Simon had a curious look on his face, as well.

Adam opened the French doors and walked onto the balcony. There was blood on the deck and on the carpet leading out. “She must have been stabbed right here.” I squatted by the door.

Adam did the same. “How do you figure?”

“The blood starts here, then drips out onto the deck. There’s no blood anywhere else. Damn, no prints, nothing.” I looked out at the balcony railing. The wooden railing was broken in the middle, leaving a gaping hole.

Adam opened the closet. I peered over his shoulder. It was empty. “I remember when my ex-wife and I went on vacation. You’re right, Kate, the first thing she did was hang up her dresses.”

“Helen was here for two days, don’t tell me she didn’t unpack,” Simon said.

“Curious,” I said with a shrug.

“Well, let’s try the other rooms,” Adam said and walked out.

Emily’s room was next. There was nothing remarkable in her room or in anyone else’s. After an hour, Adam stood in the middle of the hallway. “Okay, downstairs,” he ordered.

The rest of them stood in the living room when we came out. “Anything?” Bob asked hopefully and Adam shook his head. “That leaves Mrs. Degnan and Mr. Merriweather.”

“Who’s going to go with you to check his room?” Bob asked quickly, and once again, I noticed the urgency in his voice. Even Linda gave him an incredulous glance.

Simon raised his eyebrows and smiled. “Why, Bob! If you wanted to see my boudoir, you needed only ask.”

Bob turned red and Adam ran his hand across his mouth to avoid laughing. Rebecca gave Simon a withering motherly look—Simon withered.

“Sorry, Bob.” He bowed slightly and walked down the hall. Adam and I followed.

Simon put the key in the lock and Adam looked around him. “Why the locked door, Mr. Merriweather?” he asked suspiciously.

“To keep away nosy inspectors,” Simon said over his shoulder and opened the door. He stood back. “Entrez-vous,” he said lightly.

There were two rooms. The sitting room had a fireplace, an apartment-sized grand piano, a small couch, and two huge high-backed chairs. In the corner was a twin bed with nightstand and lamp.

“Cozy,” I said.

“Merci,” he said, smiling.

Adam looked around as he walked over to the desk and opened the drawers and cubbyholes. Simon watched him with extreme amusement. He sat in the chair by the fire and stretched out his long legs. “Let me know if you need anything.” He yawned and covered his mouth.

Adam walked over to the other door and opened it. “The boudoir?”

Simon laughed. “But of course.”

It was an elegant room. A huge king-sized four-poster bed stood in the middle against the far wall. The bureau, which I imagined was an antique, stood alone with a dressing table to the right. Adam opened each drawer and saw the clothes folded meticulously. Each drawer was the same. He respectfully looked through them and found nothing out of the ordinary. I saw the sweaters were cashmere, and the shirts were dry-clean only and mostly silk.

Adam opened the closet. “Good grief.” He whistled as he turned on the light to the walk-in closet. “How many suits does one man need?” he called and Simon stood in the doorway smiling.

“One needs to look their best at all times, Inspector. Would you like to borrow one? Rose is partial to the brown tweed,” he said, his blue eyes dancing wickedly.

I glared at him. Adam ignored him.

I noticed the pair of shoes covered in dried mud. I looked down at them and Adam followed my look. He bent down and picked them up carefully.

“Been out in the rain and snow?” he asked and Simon craned his neck to see.

“I went out this morning to get the mail,” he explained. “The snow was melting and it had gotten muddy.”

“One would think you wouldn’t want to get your other shoes dirty. Next time, put them in the laundry room. You do have a laundry room, don’t you, Mr. Merriweather?” Adam asked politely. I was pleasantly surprised at his show of a sense of humor. I sensed Simon was also.

“Yes, we do, Inspector, in the cellar. And you are quite right, next time I shall put them there,” he said with equal politeness.

As Adam turned to leave the room, he noticed the statue on Simon’s bureau. “What in the world is this?” he asked as he picked it up to examine it.

Simon smiled slightly. “An ancient jade fertility god,” he warned. “You’re holding the wrong end. That is, depending on what you want it to do...”

Adam gave him an exasperated look but grinned slightly.

“You’re hopeless,” I whispered and Simon laughed.

“Where did you get it?” Adam asked; he gently set the artifact back on the dresser.

I noticed Simon’s face change. His eyes still sparkled, but the laughter was gone. In its place was that melancholy sadness.

“Douglas gave that to me. It’s a hideous little object, really.”

“Sorry,” Adam mumbled and walked out. I followed, leaving Simon standing there staring at the statuette.

Bob was standing in the hallway pacing like an expectant father. He stopped when we came out of Simon’s room.

“Well?” He craned his neck to see into Simon’s room.

“Well what?” Adam asked. “Why all the concern over Mr. Merriweather’s room?”

I wondered the same thing as I watched him. Bob took a step back and seemed to gather his thoughts.

“I just want this thing over with so I can take my wife home, that’s all,” he said, and for the moment, Adam looked like he believed him. I wasn’t convinced.

“Well, I’m doing my best, Mr. Thomas.” Adam walked past him into Rose’s bedroom.

Rose walked down the hallway with an armload of folded towels. “You’re not done then?” she asked impatiently.

Adam’s smile faded quickly. “No, Mrs. Degnan. I was just about to search your room, if you don’t mind.”

“Would it make a difference to ya if I did?” she countered. I thought she did a good job of keeping her Irish temper in check.

Adam opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. “You can stay if you want,” he said with resignation and walked into her room.

He checked as he had the other rooms. He looked at the top of the chest, picked up a bottle of perfume, and sniffed it. I rolled my eyes and stood behind him looking around. Then he opened the top drawer and lightly touched the clothes. He stopped for an instant and I noticed it was her lingerie.

“Find anything, Inspector?” Simon asked.

Adam realized what was in the drawer and quickly closed it. Without a word or a glance, he headed for the bathroom. He opened the linen closet and pushed aside the stacked towels. It was then we all heard it fall to the floor with a clang.

It was a letter opener with blood all over the end of it. For an instant, we all stood there completely shocked. Adam and I bent down and looked at it.

“Mr. Merriweather, would you please let me borrow a handkerchief?” he asked.

“Any specific color?” Simon asked. “No, I suppose not,” he mumbled as we looked up at him; he disappeared into his room.

All the color faded from Rose’s face as she swayed slightly. I guided her to her bed and sat her down.

“Take a deep breath,” I said as Simon came back into the room and handed the handkerchief to Adam.

He gingerly picked up the letter opener, folded it in the handkerchief, and walked into the room. He gave Rose a sad look. “Are you all right?”

Rose only nodded as she stared at the handkerchief. “Is that what I think it is?” she asked in a shaky voice.

Adam took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll need to get this back to the lab. I’m sure the blood type will match Helen’s.”

“You think I killed her, don’t ya?” she asked.

I looked down at her and noticed her hands shaking. My instincts said no, but there was so much that was unexplained, I couldn’t rule anyone out. I looked at Adam and knew he was thinking the same.

“Just because you found that thing in here does not mean Rose killed Helen,” Simon said firmly. I had to agree.

Adam nodded. “I understand your point. Let me get this to Jack,” he said sadly and walked out of the room.

“Why don’t you lie down?” I said and Simon agreed.

“Rose dear, you look horrible, now lie back,” he said and eased her against the pillows. He covered her with an afghan and kissed her forehead.

“I didn’t kill her, Simon,” she said as tears sprang in her eyes. He smiled and patted her hand.

“I know you didn’t. My word, I would never think that. Now you rest,” he said softly.

Downstairs, Adam gathered the rest of us in the living room. “I’m sending over a couple deputies to patrol the grounds. No one is to leave for any reason. I’ll be in touch later in the day,” he said mainly to me. I wondered if he was beginning to trust me.

I walked with him out to his car. “I’m sure her fingerprints are on it,” he said sadly and leaned against the car. I watched him carefully.

“Don’t jump here, Sheriff. If Rose murdered Helen, why would she hide the evidence in her own linen closet? Wait and see what prints you can lift off that thing and go from there.”

He nodded and got in the car. “What would you do...if you murdered Helen?” He didn’t wait for her answer, he just pulled away.

I stood there feeling deflated. He still suspected me and I really couldn’t blame him. I looked back at the house and saw the curtain in the Thomases’s window quickly close.

“Something’s up with you, Bob,” I whispered.

I walked up the stairs and took a deep breath. There’s a murderer running around here, and somebody in this house knows something. “And I’m going to find out what it is if it kills me,” I whispered, then winced.

Bad choice of words.

Chapter 14

“He found the murder weapon, didn’t he?” Bob asked.

Linda looked to me for the answer. “He found possible evidence. Let’s not go off,” I started and Rose walked down the hall.

Rebecca met her by the doorway. “Are you all right, my dear?”

Rose nodded. “I suppose,” she said, smiling, and avoided everyone’s look.

“None of us thinks you did it, dear,” Kit said and hugged her. Rose put her hands to her face and cried. Then she quickly stopped and dried her eyes.

“Thank you. You all must be starving. I’ll start dinner.”

“Let us do it, Rose,” Emily offered and Linda agreed. Rose shook her head.

“I need to keep busy. You can keep me company, though.”

With the girls in the kitchen, Simon and Bob stood around the bar in the living room and I joined them.

“What do you think?” Bob asked me as Simon put ice in three tall glasses.

“About what? If you mean do I think Rose killed Helen? No, I don’t. If you mean do I think someone is hiding something? Yes, I certainly do,” I said and looked him in the eyes.

“Nuts,” Simon said lightly and I shot him a look. He smiled and offered the bowl of nuts that were on the bar.

“What do you mean, hiding something?” Bob asked. As if on cue, the beads of perspiration started to appear on his forehead. “I, for one, am not.”

I shrugged and ate a nut. “I, for one, will not be accused of murder or have Rose framed. I intend to find out who killed Helen and why.” I looked at the drink on the bar. “Is that a gin and tonic?”

Simon picked it up and drank the contents. He struck a thoughtful pose as he swirled the tinkling ice in the glass. “Yes,” he said definitely.

“Simon, do you have anything besides alcohol? Like a ginger ale or a Coke?” I asked.

Simon shivered violently. “Egads, you must be joking. Here, have a tonic and lime. You must keep your head about you, Miss Marple,” he said “I like that better than Sam Spade.” He was completely amused with himself, I’m sure.

“Skip it. I’m going for a walk to clear my head.” I left them standing there as I grabbed my coat and headed outside.

I stood there looking at the roped-off area where I found Helen. I looked up, and it really didn’t seem all that high. However, at Helen’s age, any distance would seem high. So what do we have? Someone stabbed her in the chest with a letter opener, then pushed her off—no, pushed her through—the balcony railing. I looked up to examine the broken railing.

Maybe Helen was running from her attacker and ran onto the balcony, and being dark and windy, she might have crashed through the railing. No, how could an elderly woman run with that much force after being stabbed? Besides, by the look of the trail of blood, she was stabbed right by the doors. Helen couldn’t get up enough steam to crash through anything.

Also, how did he or she get in? Assuming it wasn’t anyone already suspected. I looked around the house and walked to the back door. It was unlocked and showed no signs of tampering. The lock was intact, as was the screen door. No scratches on the door, nothing. Then I checked all the windows, including the two French doors on the dining room side of the house. Nothing looked odd or broken. The windows at ground level were intact.

The front door was the same, nothing out of place. How then did they get in? It certainly couldn’t have been through the guest room windows. All rooms were occupied. Maybe he came in through Helen’s balcony. He’d have to be in good shape to make the climb.

Unfortunately, all evidence or even lack of it pointed to someone in the house. I desperately tried to remember the person in Helen’s room that night. It happened so quickly; my first thought was that it was a man. He or she ran too fast to be one of the girls. It honestly could have been Bob, Simon, Rose, or even Linda.

I remembered that Simon was completely dressed when I met him at the bottom of the stairs the night of Helen’s murder. I shivered and pulled my coat around me. God, could it be Simon? Then I remembered the pair of shoes in his closet.

Rebecca argued with her, Emily argued with her. Helen insulted Kit on two different occasions, once bringing her to tears. Bob and Linda overheard Simon threaten her, as well. It would appear that Bob and Linda were not suspects, but my instincts told me Bob knew something. Either that or he was just naturally a guilty-looking individual.

Somebody knows something, I thought again, and had an idea. I walked in the back door and found the girls sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea. Rose was at the counter and they all looked up when I walked in.

“Rose, whatever you’re making smells heavenly. Do me a favor? Set the dining room up with all of us at one table tonight, will you?” I asked and Rose gave me a confused look.

“All right. Ya look very excited about something. Is everything all right?” Rose asked slowly. I smiled and nodded.

“Everything is fine. What time is dinner?” I glanced at Rebecca, who looked very uncomfortable.

“The usual, seven. I’m sure Simon will have the cocktails flowing at six,” she said, waving her hands.

“That’s fine. See you all at six.” I headed back to Simon and Bob. On my way out, I caught a glimpse of Rebecca. She sat there staring at her teacup.

I sat in front of the fire and put my feet up. It was only three o’clock. Suddenly, I felt tired. I put my head back and listened to Simon and Bob.

“Bob, I truly am sorry for all of this.” I heard the honestly in Simon’s voice.

“This is a peculiar situation, Mr. Merriweather. I wonder why someone would kill your cousin.”

“I really don’t know.”

“Well, I hope either the sheriff or Miss Ryan can get to the bottom of this quickly,” he said. “So how do you like living in the country? Better than Manhattan, I take it?” he asked. I noticed how quickly Bob changed the topic.

“Much. The fun went out of Manhattan a year ago. So I thought I’d try my hand at running this monstrosity. Though now when word gets out, I doubt it’ll have much of a chance to take off,” he said. I heard him fixing another drink and chuckled inwardly. “Another, Bob?”

“Sure, why the hell not. I guess the antique business gets pretty dull.”

I raised my head and Simon asked the question I was thinking. “How did you know I was in the antique business?”

“I…you told Linda and I the other night.”

“Dinner at seven, gentlemen,” Rose said as she entered the room. “Kate asked that we all sit at one table this evening.”

Bob frowned and looked at me. “What for?” he asked, looking rankled. He quickly finished his drink. Simon raised an eyebrow and poured him another.

“Just being sociable, Bob,” I said with a smile.

“Look here, you can’t tell us…”

“Bob, it’s just for dinner. Now, here, have another drink and play nice,” Simon said and gave me a curious look.

I rose and stretched my back. “I’ll be in my room.”

I could feel Bob’s eyes watching me as I walked out of the living room. Chew on that for a while, Bob.

As I lay on my bed, I stared at the ceiling, thinking about Hester. I tried to make sense of my feelings about this woman. Was I being irrational? I remembered when I first saw her at Hannah’s Christmas benefit. Something flashed through my mind when I saw her across the room. I also remembered how I foolishly followed her down the stairwell when she left. I heard my name; I know I did. And the voice…

My heart raced as I bolted up from the bed. What the hell was going on? I thought. Why is this woman on my mind? I felt the room getting warmer as my heart pounded away. That closed-in feeling started again, as it had for so many years. I fought the urge to run by pacing at the foot of the bed.

Suddenly, the old vision started. Liz’s face now flashed through my mind. The old fear started gripping my chest; I felt the tightness grabbing. I stood by the desk and leaned on it more for support as my legs shook.

“God, please don’t start this now,” I begged. I felt the sweat pour down my back. It’d been over five years since this nightmare with Liz Eddington. Five years since she nearly killed my partner and me. “Enough, please.” I swallowed and breathed deeply, hoping the anxious feeling would subside. In a moment, it did. I wiped the perspiration from my brow. As I felt my body start to relax, I looked up noticing the book on the desk. Why hadn’t I noticed that earlier?

Amid the other books, I saw it. With a shaky hand, I picked up the copy of The Oscar Wilde Collection. I gingerly turned the book over in my hand. My heart raced as I remembered the previous summer when Teri, Maggie, and Hannah were at my cabin. The storm and flooding that ensued left us stranded and alone with the body of the poor woman we found on the shore and the murderer. When it was all over and we were safe, I went back to my cabin alone. On the doorstep was a book just like this one in a brown wrapper.

I had no idea who left it for me or why. A page had been marked with a plain white bookmark, and I had opened the book to the poem “The Ballad of the Reading Gaol.” I had no idea why this particular poem was marked; I still don’t, though this situation with Hester seemed more than a coincidence. How could she be involved in…in what?

“Shit, what’s going on?” I said, setting the book down. “What the hell does Oscar Wilde and Hester and that damned poem…?” I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to get a grip on something and not knowing what the hell it was.

My cell rang, which started me in my hunt for the damned thing. I patted myself down and located it in my pocket. It was Connie.

“Have you called your gal yet?” she asked and I heard her sucking in air, taking a long drag off her cigarette.

“Oh, crap,” I hissed angrily and glanced at my watch. “Why are you calling me about Maggie?” I couldn’t hide the terror in my voice.

Connie laughed heartily. I took the phone away from my ear and snarled at it. “Ryan, you sound petrified, and well you should. The good doctor is worried sick. She was here earlier today.”

“She came to the magazine?” I couldn’t believe the squeak in my voice.

“Yep.”

“What did you tell her?” I painfully pinched the bridge of my nose as I sat on the bed.

“The truth, you idiot. I’m not lying to that woman. She waltzed in here looking like a million bucks. She may be short, but when she sets that jaw…”

I had to chuckle at the mental picture.

“That girl has radar where you’re concerned, Ryan. She knew something was up since you didn’t bother to call her.”

I groaned and flopped back down on the bed and stared at the beamed ceiling. Crap.

“She was worried that by coming down here she’d look like she was checking up on you. She’s worried, and she doesn’t want to overstep her bounds. I told her you were a freak of nature, not just a nature freak.”

“Thank you,” I said, staring at the ceiling.

“Don’t mention it. I think she came down here to get some insight, instead of calling you. We had a nice conversation actually. I told her your roaming days are over. No more grueling assignments. Why do you like taking them, by the way?”

I thought about it for a moment. “I-I don’t know. I just…I don’t know!” I said angrily.

There was a moment of silence. “Maggie knows,” Connie said and I heard the devil in that voice.

“What does she know?” I tried to ignore my racing heart.

“She says they’re a kind of punishment. You feel you need to be purged and your sins forgiven.”

I lay there listening to the truth.

“She’s an insightful little thing,” Connie added with a chuckle.

“Yes, she is.” Suddenly, I felt a pang of loneliness the likes of which I had never felt. My God, I felt like crying.

“Call her, you nitwit,” Connie said.

As if on cue, I heard a beeping noise on the phone. “Shit, I have a call from Maggie,” I exclaimed helplessly and heard Connie laughing.

“Well, answer it, you freak. God, I’m hanging up, you’re hopeless.”

“Wait! I don’t know how to get…” I stopped, realizing Connie had hung up. I pushed the only button I knew and disconnected Maggie’s call. Crap.

The phone immediately rang. “Hello, Maggie?”

I had not connected the call. God, I hate myself, I thought, and calmly pressed the green phone button. “Hi.”

“Don’t tell me, you had someone on the other line and didn’t know how to get to me,” Maggie said.

I laughed and lay back down. All thoughts of Hester, murder, and uncertainty seemed to wash away when I heard Maggie’s voice. “Whew, what an ordeal. I lost you.”

“Not a chance, Kate Ryan, you’re stuck with me.”

My heart thumped in my chest and my hands started sweating. “God, Maggie, I hope that’s true.”

“It is.”

We were silent for a moment. “So you went to my work, huh?” I asked, not knowing what else to say. I take that back—I knew what to say; I had no clue how to say it.

“You don’t mind, do you?” 

“No, I…so you’re, um, worried about me?” I stared at the ceiling.

“Yes, very worried. Once again, you’re involved in murder and mayhem. We may have to put that on your license plate.”

I laughed and Maggie joined with that contagious laugh. “Well, the Seaview Inn looks nice,” she said.

“Yeah, it’s nice and cozy. You should see my room…” I stopped and heard the soft laughter. I grinned and jumped off the bed. “How do you know what the Seaview Inn looks like?”

I opened my door and headed down the stairs, trying to juggle the phone and not trip headlong down the staircase.

“Oh, it’s got a nice yard and the pine trees are beautiful. Big wraparound porch...”

I dashed past a stunned Simon and Bob and threw open the front door. There she was—smiling and beautiful.

“And a handsome woman to greet me at the door,” she said into the phone, then snapped it shut.

 “I cannot believe you’re here.” I couldn’t believe I was still talking into the phone.

Maggie pulled the collar of her leather coat up around her neck and shivered. “Can I come in?”

I pulled her inside, wrapped my arms around her, and gave her a big kiss. Hearing the soft purr, I think I groaned and slowly pulled back.

“Now that’s a welcome,” Maggie whispered with a wink. She then looked at the bruise on my temple. “Now what?” She lightly ran her fingertips against the bruise. “I can’t leave you alone, can I?”

“Nope.” I laughed and picked up her suitcase, nearly dislocating my shoulder in the effort. “What have you got in here?”

“And who is this delightful creature?” Simon’s happy voice called out. “Do not tell me, Maggie. I’m Simon Merriweather, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I struggled with the huge piece of luggage. “Man, you better have tipped the driver but good,” I whispered into her ear. I thought of my poor driver and his lumbago.

Maggie ignored me as she shook Simon’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Simon, though I wish it were under better circumstances. I am sorry.”

“Thank you. It’s tragic and I hope our dear sheriff can solve this quickly. Perhaps you can use some gentle persuasion on Kate and get her to help.”

“Simon…” I stopped when the girls came out of the kitchen.

Maggie’s eyes widened as she was instantly surrounded like moths to a flame. As they propelled Maggie into the living room, she looked over her shoulder. I waved bye-bye and struggled with the luggage.

“Need any help?” Simon asked, and without waiting for my response, he headed to the living room.

When I came back downstairs without having thrown my back out, I stood in the hallway and just smiled as I watched Maggie talking with the girls. Her smile, as usual, lit up her face. Then she laughed and my heart beat faster. She looked at me, and for an instant, everything stopped. I didn’t hear the girls talking or Simon laughing. I had forgotten there was a murderer running loose. I had tunnel vision as I walked into the room.

“Well,” Simon said and cleared his throat. “Why don’t we stop monopolizing poor Maggie and let her get settled with Kate? Cocktails at six, dinner at seven.”

“You’re right. This is very cozy,” Maggie said as she walked into the room. Maggie grinned and walked over to the window and looked out. “Nice view. You can see the Atlantic over the treetops.”

“Yeah, but the view is even better from here.” I sat on the bed, patting the space next to me.

Maggie raised an eyebrow as she walked toward the bed. “That was a horrible line.”

I laughed as she sat next to me. “Yes, but you’re here.”

“I guess I’m a sucker for a rotten pickup line.”

I reached over and took her hand in mine. “You have such small hands,” I whispered and kissed said hands. “But such a big heart.”

I looked at her, noticing the adorable grin. I couldn’t help myself; I leaned in and lightly kissed her.

All at once, I was on my back with Maggie straddling me. “Hi,” I said with a weak smile.

Maggie was silent for a moment, then she kissed me. When she pulled back, I looked up into her blue eyes. “I’m sorry about the Napoleon comment.”

Maggie actually laughed. Mind you, she was still straddling my torso. “It infuriated me at the time. But I understand, Kate.” I heard resignation in her voice. She reached down and touched my cheek. “What are you afraid of?”

“I’m afraid you’re gonna see what a pathetic idiot I am and leave me before I get a chance to tell you how much I—”

The loud knock at the door stopped me.

“Don’t move,” Maggie said firmly and answered the door.

It was Simon grinning and holding a bottle of champagne in the ice-filled bucket. He stopped short when he saw me lying on the bed. Losing both eyebrows in his hairline, he thrust the bucket into Maggie’s hands.

“Umm. Here, welcome.” He made an about-face and bounded down the stairs.

Maggie closed the door and laughed as she set the champagne on the desk. “That was thoughtful. Now where was I?”

I smiled and patted the bed again. Maggie obediently sat next to me. She reached over and took my clammy hand in her cold one. Maybe we were both nervous.

“Can I tell you something?” she asked. I was amazed to hear the tremor in her voice. “I’m afraid, as well.”

“Really? What can you possibly be afraid of?” This woman was a smart, sexy doctor with a huge heart and an amazing brain.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I held mine. “I’m afraid you won’t trust me or your heart.”

When I didn’t say anything, she held my hand in a vise grip. I did the same. It was amazing how safe and loved I felt when Maggie touched me. Just holding her hand, I felt a warm blanket of contentment settle over me. I never felt it before. Not even with Liz.

“Because of me?” Maggie asked amazed.

My head shot up when I realized my inner thoughts were said out loud. I made a mental note to kill my inner self later, but for now, I tried to do the backstroke to cover my embarrassment. However, when I saw the smile and the look of happiness spread across her lovely features, I gave up. I looked down at our hands. “Yeah, it’s true. I-I guess.”

I looked up when she chuckled softly. My face was red hot.

Gratefully, she changed the topic. “Are you glad I came?” Maggie asked in a hesitant voice. She looked at me with a hopeful gaze. I believe I sighed openly.

“Very glad. I need you with me, Maggie. I never realized until this moment just how much.” I pulled her down and kissed her tenderly on the lips. So warm, so safe, so perfect. “Now I’m sorry to put all this wonderful talk on the back burner, but there’s a murder to solve and I’m hoping to get to the bottom of it over dinner.” I reluctantly let go of her hand and stood before my libido wandered away with me.

Maggie gave me a curious look. “Oh, I see those wheels turning. What are you planning at dinner?” I saw the grin of anticipation and the sparkle in her blue eyes. I regarded her look for a moment.

“You enjoy this, don’t you?” I leaned against the desk.

Maggie struck a thoughtful pose and walked up to me. She reached in, smoothed the collar of my flannel shirt, and looked up into my eyes. “I have to tell you something that I’m sure will go right to that Irish head,” she said; I had to laugh. “I find your instincts for solving a mystery very seductive. It’s quite the aphrodisiac.”

At that moment, I felt my mouth drop. I had no idea what she was going to say, but that sure as hell wasn’t it. “You do?” I heard the incredulous tone in my voice.

Maggie must have heard it, as well, for she laughed and caressed my cheek. “Yes, I find the way your mind works intoxicating and annoying. It’s a heady mix.”

I laughed out loud at that. “Yes, I annoy myself at times. We’ll concentrate on the seductive, intoxicating part. C’mon, I’ll seduce you with my dinner plan.”

I grabbed her hand and headed downstairs. All at once, I remembered there was a murder to solve. A shiver ran through me and I had a feeling things would start unraveling quickly. I had no idea how quickly it would be.

Chapter 15

Rose wheeled out the cart and set the bowls of soup in front of each of us, then sat next to Simon. He sat at the head of the table with an annoying smirk on his face as though he had a private joke. I sat at the other end and returned the look. He raised his wineglass and took a healthy drink.

To his left, Kit sat smiling, looking around at everyone. Rebecca sat next to her, Linda at the end. “This is cozy,” Linda said and chuckled nervously as she looked across at her husband.

Bob was scowling and playing with his spoon, tapping it lightly against his fingers. “Very cozy,” he agreed.

Maggie was on my left next to the brooding Bob. She gave me a side glance as she ate her soup. I reached under the table and gave her knee a reassuring squeeze. Who was I kidding? I just wanted to feel the connection.

I noticed Linda winked at Bob, who appeared to soften as he drank his water. Next to him, Emily was watching me with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation.

“Okay, you have us here together. Did you have something in mind?” Emily asked and I looked up from my soup.

“Yes, but right now, I’m enjoying this soup. Rose, this is delicious,” I said.

“Thank you. Cream of asparagus, homemade,” Rose said proudly.

I noticed Simon was still smirking as he picked up a roll. “Kit, my darling, pass the butter please,” he said lightly and Kit complied.

“Kate, please let us in on what you’re thinking,” Kit almost pleaded. “I can’t wait any longer.”

By now, Rose had cleared the soup bowls and brought in the main course—a delectable pork roast and all the trimmings. We all passed the bowls of food around, saying please and thank you in somber fashion. Simon groaned openly.

“On with it, dear Kate,” he warned and Bob spoke up.

“For once, I agree with him,” he said as he cut into his meat.

With a mouthful of roast, I looked around the table. I took a drink of wine and dabbed my mouth with the napkin. “I think there’s a great deal going on here, and I think all of you know something, however innocuous it may appear. So I thought we’d all get it out in the open and see what we have.”

Kit grinned and nodded as did Emily. I looked at Linda, who nodded her agreement, then stole a quick glance at her husband.

“I agree. Who wants to start?” Simon looked curiously around the table. No one said a thing; they concentrated on their meal.

There was a brief silence and I began. “Okay, I’ll start. Let’s look at the facts, shall we?”

“Fine, good idea,” Bob said as he ate.

“I arrived at five on Wednesday. Nothing was out of the ordinary. I met Simon and Rose and had a very nice evening. That night as I sat on the window seat in my room, I thought I saw someone out in the clearing of the woods. I got my night lens from my camera, but by that time, whatever, or whoever, was gone. I shrugged it off as nothing. Then I spent the next day taking photos of the property and going to lunch with Simon.”

“That’s right, we did,” he concurred.

“Well, go on,” Emily said impatiently.

“All of you arrived, then Helen. I immediately felt the tension between all of you. Helen even irritated Rose. It was obvious that she wrangled her way into the weekend.” I looked to the ladies for confirmation.

“While we’re on the subject, Simon, did you invite Helen?” I got that nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach I get when I feel a piece of the puzzle coming into focus.

Simon frowned as he thought. “Come to think of it, no I did not invite her. I called Becky and told her about the grand opening. I wanted all of them here.” He looked at Rebecca, who nodded in agreement.

“I told Em and Kit. Helen wasn’t even in Newport at the time. Simon, she called me as if you had invited her. Are you sure you didn’t call her?” Rebecca asked.

Simon grimaced. “Good heavens, Becky, why in the world would I call her? She came uninvited too many times in the past six months as it was,” he said and Rose groaned in agreement.

“How many times were we busy with the carpenters or the decorator and that woman would just appear, making a nuisance of herself?” Rose said.

My mind was racing, trying to put something together. Maggie and I exchanged glances. “Why would she just show up?” I asked and Simon shrugged.

“I have no idea. All of the sudden, there she was at the front door. Snooping around each room. Good grief, the last time she barged in was—when Rose, two months ago?” he asked and Rose agreed.

“Yes, we actually found her nosing around in Simon’s bedroom. Do ya believe the gall of that woman?” Rose asked, then turned red. “God rest her soul,” she mumbled and drank her wine.

“How did she find out about this weekend?” I looked around the table.

Emily was the first to speak. “She called me last week and asked if it was still on. I just assumed she was invited.”

I leaned back in my chair. “So she was never invited but knew you were coming here and no one told her, correct?” I watched as they all looked to one another and nodded.

“How did she find out?” Linda asked.

Rebecca shrugged. “Newport may be a big town, but news travels very fast. We could have told anyone and Helen could have found out,” she said. “However, I did not tell anyone I was leaving until the day before. Helen had already called me two days prior.”

Kit agreed. “I spoke to no one. No one really calls me, except for Em and Becky,” she said sadly and Simon covered her hand with his and winked.

I looked at Emily, who shook her head. “I live in a big house all alone except for the housekeeper. I told no one. When Helen called me, she already knew about the weekend, and as I said, I assumed Simon invited her.”

“So you all assumed one of you had said something to her about the weekend, but none of you did,” I said.

“Helen was a very manipulative person and very intuitive. I’ll wager she knew something was up, and when she called Em and me, she was reaching. When we confirmed the weekend, she just tagged along, not wanting to be left out,” Rebecca offered.

“And just coincidentally gets murdered?” I shook my head. “Nope. There’s more to this.” I looked directly at Rebecca, who looked into my eyes, then looked away. She knew something, I was sure of it, and Rebecca was not the only one.

Rose had brought out dessert and coffee. An eerie silence hung over the room as the winter wind whistled through the windows.

“So the lieutenant seems to think we all have a motive,” Emily said, breaking the silence.

No one said anything but Kit. “We all could have killed Helen. We know where and how. We don’t know who or why. This is like the game Clue. I want to be Miss Peacock.”

We all stared as Simon chuckled along with her. “Then I must be Professor Plum,” he said decidedly and looked around the table.

“You would look adorable in violet,” Kit whispered. She looked down at our end of the table.

Maggie chuckled and glanced at me. Kit giggled happily. “Kate must be Sherlock Holmes and Maggie has to be Dr. Watson, her devoted assistant who secretly loves the dashing detective.”

I wasn’t sure about Maggie, but my eyes bugged out of my head. Simon hid his grin in his napkin. Kit glanced around at the befuddled looks. “Oh, come now. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson were homosexuals, please!” Kit shook her head at the non-believers. Simon roared with laughter and kissed Kit on the cheek.

“Simon, this is serious,” Emily scolded; Simon and Kit stopped their playful banter. “Someone murdered your cousin, for heaven’s sakes, and the lieutenant thinks it’s one of us.”

“Isn’t it?” Bob accused harshly.

Here we go.

“Bob, darling,” Linda said. She sounded completely confounded, I could tell. Who wasn’t?

Bob ignored her and continued. “If one of you didn’t kill her, then who? Why? My wife and I are here on vacation and now we’re stuck,” he said and looked at me.

“You seem to be the logical suspect, Miss Ryan. You found the body and you’re the only one who saw, or claims to have seen, someone in the room lurking by the closet,” he said.

I shot a look at him, then glanced at Linda, who turned white as she stared at her husband.

The telltale beads of perspiration on Bob’s forehead made their appearance as he was shifting in his chair. I felt that nervous, anxious feeling again but said nothing as he continued his tirade.

“You’re the only one who has seen this mysterious person.”

“Wasn’t Linda with Kate yesterday when they were in the woods? Linda, you thought there was someone out there, didn’t you?” Simon asked politely. Bob shot a defiant look at his wife, who was looking at the napkin in her lap.

“Yes, I did,” she said in a quiet voice.

“So you see it’s not her imagination. Your own wife was with her,” Emily said in a huff. “Now no more accusations, Mr. Thomas, if you please.”

The knock at the front door had Rose excusing herself; she came back with George.

“Evening,” he said politely. He took off his hat and smiled. “Just wanted to see if everything is all right. I was listening to the radio. We’re in for some snow for the next couple days. It’s getting pretty nasty out there now.” He looked around the table. I could tell he was counting, making sure everyone was present. He spotted Maggie, then counted on his fingers.

Rebecca realized the same. “Yes, Deputy, we have a guest. This is Dr. Maggie Winfield, a friend of Kate’s. And we’re all here, young man. None of us has flown the coop.”

George reddened. “Yes, ma’am,” he said politely. “Well, I’ll be out in front all night.” He turned to go.

“George, is Adam out there?” Rose asked, looking at the front door.

“Nah, he’s with Doc.”

Rose looked deflated as she led him into the kitchen. “C’mon, you must be starving,” she said as she ushered him down the hall.

“Now where were we?” I lightly touched my bruised temple.

“I was telling Mr. Thomas no more accusations,” Emily said and glanced at Bob sitting next to her.

“All right then,” Bob said and continued to bluster, “let Mr. Merriweather explain his threats to his cousin the night we came. Linda and I were at the front door and heard the entire thing.” He looked down at Simon, who was smiling at Bob. “Well? Deny you threatened to kill her if she ever spoke about your boyfriend again,” he challenged.

“I will not deny it, Bob. It’s no secret,” Simon said.

I’m sure Simon hoped that would finish it. Bob would not accommodate.

“Why did she call him weak?” he continued and I noticed Rebecca’s back stiffening slightly.

“How dare you?” Emily said in defense. “You never met Douglas.”

“I’m not saying it. His cousin said it,” he countered.

Emily looked at Simon. “Why would Helen say that, dear?” she asked Simon, who was staring at Bob. I thought of defusing the situation, but instead I just listened. I wanted to see where this was going.

“I have no idea, Em,” he said.

I looked at Rebecca, who seemed to be staring off into space. “Rebecca, do you know why Helen would say something like that?” I asked.

“Helen liked to stir the pot and watch it boil over. God only knows why she said the things she did,” Rebecca offered as an explanation, and I knew she was lying. I remembered the other night when I overheard Rebecca’s threat to Helen.

“It’s true,” Kit agreed sadly and patted Rebecca’s hand.

“For chrissakes, somebody killed her,” Bob grumbled.

“How observant you are, Bob.” Simon smirked sarcastically and Bob glared at him.

“You know more than you’re letting on, Merriweather. You know it and I know it,” Bob said viciously.

“Okay, Bob,” I said impatiently and tossed my napkin on the table. “I’ve been listening to you since this happened and I think you know more than you’re letting on. So let’s have it. What do both of you know?” I challenged Bob and Simon.

Simon was cool and calm. Bob sputtered like an old boat motor. “I-I. He knows…” Bob stammered and Simon raised his eyebrows in what looked like complete confusion.

“Bob, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about,” he said innocently, which only set Bob off again. He rose angrily and quickly, knocking over his chair.

“Bob, please sit down,” I urged.

Bob looked down at me. For an instant, I thought he was going to lean over Maggie and I was going to get smacked.

“Bob!” Linda exclaimed. She might as well have been invisible.

“And what are you doing here?” Bob said to me as he towered over Maggie. “Who hired you? You’re a private investigator and a photographer?” He laughed rudely and continued, “I don’t think so. Why are you here, what are you looking for?” His face was so red I thought he’d explode. Linda quickly came around the table and took him by the arm.

“Bob, please, you’re scaring everyone. What are you saying?” she pleaded and he wrenched his arm free and pointed a finger at me.

“I won’t be the patsy. Do you hear me? Tell them that,” he said to me, then looked down at Simon. “Don’t fuck with me, Merriweather.”

That was a threat if I ever heard one, I thought as Bob stormed out of the dining room. We all heard the front door slam, leaving us in shocked silence for a moment. Linda put a hand to her face and apologized, then ran upstairs.

“Such vulgarity.” Emily gasped and shook her head.

Maggie picked up the chair and set it in place. “Bob seems quite upset.” She looked at Simon. “Any thoughts?” she asked dryly.

I looked down at Simon, as well. “Good question, Simon.”

He let out a heavy sigh. “I have no idea what he’s talking about. Truly,” he said, stealing a glance at Rebecca as he poured another glass of wine.

“Somebody does,” I said.

“Bob certainly got hot under the collar,” Emily offered.

“I wonder what he meant about being a patsy,” I said almost to myself. “So none of you has anything else to throw in? No one talked to Helen, overheard anything?”

I watched as Emily and Rose exchanged a side glance. “Rose? Emily? Something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?” I asked frankly. They both blushed.

Simon was watching them with a curious look. “Come, ladies. It’s much too late for timidity,” he coaxed. “Out with it.”

Rose sighed. “We eavesdropped at Helen’s door that night.”

“No, Rose, it was I who was eavesdropping,” Emily admitted.

“Yes, but I could have left and didn’t. I was just as much at fault,” Rose countered and Emily was about to continue when I interrupted.

“Ladies, please. We don’t care who did what. Just what did you hear?” I asked as my patience flew out the window.

Emily looked around the room. “Well, we heard her say something like: I don’t care and…remember what was at stake. Something like that. It probably means nothing. We should never have been lurking outside the poor woman’s door.”

They looked at each other rather shame-faced. Simon gave them a scathing look and wagged his finger at them. “Shame, shame,” he said in a disapproving tone.

Kit laughed. “We all would have done the same thing, and you know it.”

“Quite so, dear Kit,” he said affectionately. I noticed Rebecca didn’t seem surprised at all.

“She was on the phone,” I said thoughtfully, my mind racing to remember Helen’s room. I saw no phone on the desk or nightstand. Later that night, after everyone was snoring away, I’d take a look. My thoughts wandered to Linda. Perhaps she could shed a little light on her husband’s state of mind with this mess and what he had to do with it.

I leaned into Maggie. “I’m going to check on Linda. I’ll be right back,” I whispered and got a raised eyebrow from Maggie.

What was Helen doing on the phone and did it mean anything? Why did Bob become so unglued? Why the hell didn’t I stay home?

Chapter 16

I knocked on the door and Linda opened it, teary-eyed and wiping her nose.

“If you’d rather be alone,” I started and Linda backed up and waved me inside.

“Oh, the hell with it. I can’t cry anymore.” She proceeded to hide her face in the hanky and cry. She plopped on the edge of the bed and I stood there, feeling very uncomfortable. I sat across from her and waited. Linda stopped crying and took a deep breath.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice quivering pathetically. “I don’t know what’s happening. Bob has never been that out of control before. Miss Ryan, I’m at my wit’s end,” she declared and blew her nose.

“Linda, what do you think is wrong with Bob? I have to tell you, he’s acting…” I said and hesitated.

“Guilty,” Linda finished for me and continued. “I know. You don’t have to say it. It’s what I’ve been thinking for the past two days. And I hate myself for it.” She looked at me and leaned forward. “Miss Ryan, I’m worried for him. He didn’t kill Helen. He slept next to me all night. Well, except to go to the bathroom,” she said and blew her nose again. “But something is wrong with him ever since he came back from London.”

We both jumped when the door flew open and Bob stood there red-faced and angry. I stood, as did Linda. “Bob, thank God. I was worried sick. With all that’s going on, you decide to leave. In the dark,” she said on the verge of hysteria. “You’re driving me crazy.”

I saw the pained look on Bob’s face. He took a step into the room. “I’m sorry, baby.” His voice cracked and Linda flew into his arms.

Now I really felt uncomfortable.

“I’ll just let myself out,” I whispered and sidestepped them. They paid no attention; they were too busy kissing and murmuring each other’s names as I closed the door.

“What did you find out?” Maggie whispered behind me.

I jumped and whirled around. “Geezus!” I exclaimed and held my heart.

“I’m sorry,” she replied. I would have believed her had she not been laughing as I pulled her into our room.

Maggie sat on the bed and watched me as I paced. “Linda assured me Bob didn’t kill Helen. He was in bed all night, but she’s his wife. I’m not sure how reliable she is, and I know Bob’s lying.”

I picked up my cell phone and dialed Connie, who answered the phone grumbling. “For chrissakes, don’t you keep your phone on you? I’ve been trying to call you for two hours.”

“I don’t know how this stupid thing works. I hate these things. It’s too small and…” I started complaining and avoided Maggie’s grin.

“Skip it, you freak,” Connie said. “Good grief, it’s just a cell phone and your gal got you the top of the line. Why, I don’t know, you’d be better off with a Quaker Oats box and some string,” she said rudely and I had to chuckle at that one. Technology was lost on me.

“All right, I get it. Have you got good news?” I paced back and forth.

“I don’t know if it’s good or not, you decide. Well, here goes. Robert Thomas of Nyack, New York. His vitals are blah, blah. He worked for Amalgamated Companies of New York. They’re an insurance company. I went ahead and had my girl check them out, Ryan. They are very, very expensive. It appears they only insure artifacts, like paintings, furniture, statues, that sort of thing. Now your boy Bob worked for them for ten years. He was a courier. His job was to transport these to their final destination. Apparently, he traveled all over.” She finished when I heard her take a drag off her cigarette.

“You used the past tense. He doesn’t do that kind of work anymore?” I asked through my confusion. I tried to figure him into this week’s nightmare.

“Actually, he doesn’t do any work for them anymore. He was let go four months ago. Frank ran his Social Security number, and he’s not working right now. He’s not paying taxes anyway.”

“Let go, why? What happened?” I asked. Maggie sat forward and I saw the curious look. She’d like to yank the phone away from me right now.

“Doesn’t say. Just that he was based in London last year. Then suddenly, he’s history. Made a pretty good penny from what Frank found out.”

“Thanks, Connie. I’m sure it means something. I just have to figure out what it is.” I paced again. “You know, his wife gave me the impression that she hadn’t a clue as to why his attitude had changed. Can she not know he was fired?” I asked a bit perplexed and shook my head.

“Ryan, I don’t envy you. I wish I could do something to get you out of there, but I think you’re stuck for the duration. Figure this out before whoever decides to make a command performance.”

I flipped off the phone and looked at it. It had so many buttons on it. “Hmm. I never really looked at this thing.”

Maggie chuckled. “What a great idea to buy it for your birthday. At least you can turn the thing on. I don’t know why I got you one with so many options. You’ve probably got so many numbers stored in there, you don’t even know who they are….”

Maggie stopped when I whirled around to her. “What did you just say?”

“I-I said you probably have so many numbers stored…”

“Phone numbers,” I said happily. “I definitely want to get into Helen’s room tonight, but for now, let’s join the others. Somebody’s not talking, Maggie. C’mon, let’s get back downstairs. I don’t want to miss anything.”

Downstairs, Rose had cleared away the dessert dishes while Simon and the girls took their coffee to the living room with Maggie and me. The fire blazed as Simon stood in front of it and stared at the dancing flames. I glanced at Rebecca as she watched him with a look of sadness on her face. Sad about what? Perhaps she was thinking of her brother, Doug. I wondered how close they had been.

“I wonder what Bob meant,” I said absently.

No one said much. Rebecca quickly took a drink of her coffee. Kit was nodding off on the couch and Emily sat in the big chair, knitting.

Simon glanced at her and smiled affectionately. “Em darling, what are you making?” he asked completely intrigued. She looked up over her glasses and chuckled.

“I have no idea, but it keeps my mind busy. I’ve been thinking the same thing. There is something peculiar about Mr. Thomas. He seems so on edge,” she exclaimed and looked at me. Simon merely nodded in agreement.

I watched Rebecca as she placed an afghan around Kit’s lap.

The clock on the mantel struck eleven and Emily groaned. “I must get to bed. I’ll take Kit with me,” she whispered and gently woke her. The two said good night and headed up the stairs.

Simon and Rebecca watched as they left. He then turned to Rebecca. “Darling, you must tell me what you know,” he said, seemingly forgetting Maggie and I were there.

Rebecca did not. She quickly glanced our way, and by Simon’s next words, I knew he saw the look, as well. “Darling, Kate can help. I’ve known you all my life and I can tell you’re hiding something from me,” he said with a melancholy smile. He knelt in front of her; she gently touched his check.

“Dear Simon, how simple life was when we were young,” she said; I heard the sadness in her voice.

I felt Maggie reach over and clasp my hand as if to make sure I wasn’t going to interrupt. We listened in silence.

Simon let out a sarcastic snort. “Perhaps for you, dear Becky. I was only happy when I was with you and the girls. Do you remember how, even back then, Helen was a nasty-mouthed young woman? She and her hideous brother.”

“Roger was a bully. I don’t even think his parents liked him. What Constance saw in him, I’ll never know, though she was good for him. Thank God that didn’t last long.”

Simon looked up at her and listened. Then he took her hands in his. “Darling, if you have something to tell me, please do. You know I love you more than anything.”

Rebecca looked at me once again. I saw the look of resignation. “You know something,” I said in a quiet voice. “I can feel it. Why you’re not telling Adam, Simon, or me, I don’t know. But you must realize that whatever it is may shed some light on what’s going on.”

Rebecca smiled sadly and stared at the fire. “Simon, you would never last in prison, and I would never allow it.” She stopped when she heard Simon gasp. “I would do whatever was necessary. With Helen dead, the truth died with her and it’s over.”

“Becky, please, I beg of you to tell us,” he said and once again knelt at her side.

Maggie tightened her grip on my hand. “Rebecca, what truth? You must tell us. Because it sounds very much like you killed Helen to stop her,” I said in a warning voice, though I didn’t want to sound harsh. “If Sheriff Sinclair heard this, you’d be in jail right now.”

Simon shot me an incredulous look. “Becky did not kill Helen!” he said, clearly shocked.

“Mr. Merriweather,” Maggie interjected softly. “I don’t know any of you, but I have to admit, what Miss Townsend said does sound very incriminating.” She looked at Rebecca, who still held the pensive, sad look.

As Maggie continued, we heard a scream from the kitchen. “Crap, now what?” I dashed out of the living room with everyone close behind.

Flying through the swinging kitchen door, I found Rose plastered against the counter as white as a ghost, staring at the window.

“Rose, what is it?” I asked, and Rose pointed a shaky finger at the window.

“Out there. There’s someone out there,” she whispered and the hair on the back of my neck bristled.

Simon put an arm around her and held her tight. “Maybe it’s the deputy.”

Bob raced into the kitchen. “What’s going on? I heard a scream.”

“Rose saw someone. Bob, go and get the deputy, will you?” I asked and he ran out the door. I couldn’t see a thing as I gazed out the window; it was pitch dark and snowing.

“Don’t go out there,” Rose almost cried out as I took a step toward the back door. Simon tightened his arm around Rose. Maggie had my arm in a vise grip, and for a stupid moment, it struck me how strong she was.

“She’s right, Kate, don’t be foolish. Let George be foolish,” Simon added.

I was on the verge of ignoring all of them when George came running in, breathless and petrified.

“W-what’s going on?” He pulled out his gun. His hand shook so horribly you could almost hear the bullets rattling in the chamber.

“Good heavens! Put that thing away before it goes off,” Simon cried out.

While George nodded and tried to swallow without success, I quickly explained. “Okay, you all stay here, I’ll check it out,” he said with very little confidence but much bravery, I thought. He took a deep breath and headed out the back door.

We all stood by the window and only saw the high beam of George’s flashlight frantically scanning the yard through the driving snow. The beam got farther away as he walked toward the clearing and into the woods, then the light went out completely. We waited and watched for what seemed a lifetime.

“Where the hell did he go?” Bob asked anxiously.

I had a horrible thought, cursing myself for not thinking of it initially. “Bob, Simon, make sure all the doors and windows are locked now,” I urged. Both men quickly exited the kitchen.

Rose was trembling horribly. Maggie put her arm around her. “You’re all right,” she said gently and Rose clung to her.

“I was petrified.”

I agreed. “Me too. Tell me what happened.”

Rose took a deep trembling breath. “I was just gettin’ ready to shut the blinds when out of nowhere his face was right at the window. I swear he looked as terrified as I was,” she said and laughed nervously. “He vanished after I screamed.”

“What did he look like?” I asked. Maggie guided her to the chair.

“He looked...Italian,” she said and shrugged. “That’s all I thought of. He was only there for a flash. He had dark, black beady eyes,” she whispered, her Irish imagination galloping out of sight. I knew the feeling.

I cleared my throat. “Old or young? Mustache? Clean shaven? Could you tell what he was wearing?” I asked professionally.

“Young I’d say. Clean-shaven, I think. Oh, I don’t know, it happened too fast. He took off quickly,” she said. She stopped trembling and took another deep breath. “But he looked…”

Maggie gently held her arm. “Looked what, Rose?” 

Rose shook her head. “I don’t know. You’ll think I’m crazy, but he looked somewhat familiar, that’s all. I can’t put my finger on it,” she said, rubbing her forehead.

I glanced out the window. “I’m worried about that deputy. Where the hell is he?” I asked, feeling helpless and quelling the urge to grab my coat and find out for myself. My inner voice argued with me.

“No way. Put it out of your head, Kate Ryan,” Maggie, my inner voice, said.

“All secured,” Bob said as he and Simon came back into the kitchen.

“No deputy?” Simon asked, giving us a worried look.

“No, and I don’t like this. Simon, call the sheriff. I don’t want anyone going out there, but I don’t like this,” I urged.

“Bob, make sure everyone is in their rooms and okay, will you?” I asked and Bob nodded and left behind Simon. I took Rose into the living room and sat her by the fire.

It seemed like only minutes when we heard the police siren. Adam Sinclair barged through the front door. We heard him in the foyer with Simon. “What the hell happened?” he asked frantically. “Is Rose all right?”

“She’s fine. It’s your deputy we’re worried about,” Simon said. I heard the serious tenor in his usually flippant voice as he explained what happened.

Listening to Simon, Adam walked into the living room and flew to Rose and knelt in front of her.

“You’re all right? You’re not hurt?” he asked, touching her arms as if to examine the extent of any injury or perhaps just to feel a connection.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine, truly. Just petrified,” she said, trying to smile through her shivering.

Adam stood and looked around. “Okay, you all stay put. I’ll go find George,” he said and I put a hand on his arm.

“Why don’t you take someone with you?” I offered.

“Nope. I don’t want anyone to leave this house. Jack will be here in the morning. He’s taking all your fingerprints. I should have done that the first day. Now stay here,” he said firmly and glanced at Rose and put a hand to his holster.

“Please be careful,” Rose whispered. He gave her a quick wink and started down the hall.

“Someone should go with him,” Bob said.

“Be my guest,” Simon said dryly and Bob shot him a disgusted look.

“You—”

Simon wagged his finger in his direction. “Ah, ah, Bob. Perhaps that’s just what the murderer wants. Have all the men folk out of the house. Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m not leaving those women up there alone.” He lost a little credibility by yawning wildly and covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Will you two knock it off?” I begged and followed Adam.

It was then we all heard the loud banging at the back door. I let the sheriff go first, though I was itching to open the door. He flung the door open and nearly fell over George, who was groaning and moaning.

Suddenly, we had everyone crammed at the back door as Bob, Simon, and Adam hauled the deputy into the kitchen and sat him at the table.

“Mother of God,” Rose exclaimed.

Maggie edged her way through everyone and examined George.

I saw the odd look from Sheriff Sinclair. “Who the hell are you? And where did you come from?”

I had completely forgotten. “Oh, um, this is Dr. Maggie Winfield. She’s uh…” I stopped short.

“A doctor whom we need at the moment,” Simon offered.

I could tell by the angry look on the sheriff’s face he had just about enough of this. To his credit, he took a deep breath and allowed Maggie to examine George.

“He has a welt on the side of his head but no broken skin,” Maggie said.

George groaned and looked up and grinned. “Hello,” he whispered, trying to focus.

Maggie smiled and examined his eyes. “Hello. How do you feel?”

“Like I was smacked on the head.” He gingerly felt his forehead.

Rose handed Maggie a towel with ice. George winced as Maggie applied the ice to his poor head. Simon came back into the kitchen with a glass of whiskey and shoved it into George’s hand. Maggie gave him an exasperated look.

“What? That’s what they do in all the movies,” he said defensively as George choked.

A moment later, George took a deep breath. Adam watched him; I could tell by the look on his face he blamed himself.

“Okay, George, tell me what happened,” he said calmly.

George held up the empty glass and Adam pulled his arm down. “Later, now tell me.”

“I was looking around the backyard and couldn’t see a thing with the snow. So I walked to the edge of the woods, and something hit me on the side of the head. I remember dropping to my knees and…” He stopped and frowned, shaking his head.

“And what?” Adam asked slowly.

“You’re gonna think I’m nuts, but I swear someone helped me to the back door and sat me there. Adam, he said he was sorry,” he said in a bewildered tone.

Adam sat back and gave him an incredulous look. I glanced at Maggie, who raised an eyebrow. She watched George carefully.

“He said he was sorry?” Adam repeated as bewildered as George.

He nodded, then sported a self-conscious glance around the table. Simon gave him a suspicious smirk, took the glass out of his hand, and sniffed the empty glass. “I think I’ll have a little of this.”

“I may join you,” Bob said with uncharacteristic humor.

Adam and I ignored them. I leaned closer. “George, do you mean that whoever hit you made sure you were all right?” I knew I sounded like a doctor talking to a mental patient.

George rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I’m telling you,” he said helplessly and looked at his boss. “Adam, you found me sitting there.”

“So we have a compassionate murderer on the loose.” Simon sighed.

“Who said this guy was the murderer?” Adam said, and for once, I felt like he was thinking like a policeman.

“You can’t mean there are two people out there?” Bob asked and peered out the window.

“I don’t know.” Adam pulled out his radio and called the station. He informed Audrey that he and George would be spending the night. She would have Jack come by in the morning. “Okay, everybody, get to bed. Rose, if you don’t mind, George can take the couch. I’ll keep watch for the night. Tomorrow, you all get your fingerprints taken. Then we’ll see just whose prints are on that letter opener,” he said with authority.

Simon cleared his throat. “Well, on that note, I’ll check on the ladies upstairs and bid you pleasant slumber.” He smiled and bowed slightly, then walked out.

Bob grumbled a good night and followed.

“Miss Ryan, I’d like to talk to you for a moment,” Adam said.

I looked at Maggie, who winked. “I’ll help Rose with George. I’ll be upstairs.”

Rose patted George on the back. “Come with me, Deputy. I have something you can change into while I make up the couch for ya,” Rose offered and walked out with poor George.

“What’s on your mind, Sheriff?” I asked as we sat at the table.

Adam ran his fingers through his wet hair and took a deep breath. “What’s on yours?” he asked frankly.

I raised an eyebrow and looked out the window. “I don’t know. What happened to George seems a little peculiar. At least we know for sure that there is someone out there. Do you still think it’s one of us?” I asked with equal frankness.

He looked me in the eye. “The idea of an accomplice isn’t unheard of, Miss Ryan.”

Why didn’t I think of that?

Chapter 17

An accomplice. Hmm. “Sheriff, if I may suggest, use your instincts. What does your gut tell you?”

“It tells me I should have stayed a teacher,” he said dryly and looked out the window.

“I know what you mean. There was a time when I no longer trusted my instincts. It took a while.”

I noticed a hesitant look as he watched me. “Why didn’t you tell me your boss was married to the deceased’s brother?”

I was impressed. “I honestly didn’t think it was important. I wasn’t hiding it from you. If I were the murderer, do you think I’d be telling everyone I was a private investigator? I’m telling you, I came up here to take photos for my magazine. My editor was involved only because she was once an in-law. That is the only coincidence in this mess.” I rubbed the back of my neck.

“You think this whole thing was planned?” he asked and leaned on the table.

Rose came into the kitchen. “Heavens, you two, it’s late. If you’re not going to bed…” She put on her apron and busied herself making coffee. “I’ll be out of the way in a minute,” she said over her shoulder.

I watched her and remembered the phone. “Sheriff, Rose and Emily overheard Helen on the phone the night she was murdered. They were...walking down the hall at the time,” she said and Rose hung her head. Adam gave her a confused look.

“That’s not entirely true. I…we were... I saw Miss Emily with her ear to the door, and I…” She turned red and Adam hid his smile.

“You were eavesdropping?” Adam asked, but he was smiling as he watched Rose, who shot him an angry look. “Wait a minute before you get your Irish up. What did you hear?”

Rose came over and sat down, grinning with excitement. “We heard her say, ‘I don’t have to remind you what’s at stake.’ Then she came to the door and we…” She stopped.

“You ran like hell,” he said.

Rose glared at him for an instant, then chuckled. “That we did.”

I was looking out the window, not paying attention to the flirting going on. Someone called Helen, or she called whomever. Maggie’s words rang in my ears about storing phone numbers.

“Sheriff, I think whoever Helen talked to is part of this. Let’s look at this logically. According to Simon and the girls, Helen was not invited to the weekend’s festivities. Somehow she got wind of it, probably because she was very good at wrangling information out of people. So she shows up with the girls.” I stood and paced in front of them.

“Well now, she didn’t come with them,” Rose interjected, and I stopped and looked down at her.

“That’s right. She came alone. She wasn’t on the same flight,” I said.

“Why wouldn’t she come on the same flight as the rest of them?” Adam asked.

“They claim they didn’t tell Helen about this week. They each thought the other had told her about it,” I explained.

Adam Sinclair scratched his head in a confused gesture, which I understood. I paced like a caged lion feeling like something was coming together, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. “Why wouldn’t she come with the girls? And who is this guy who nicely knocks your deputy on the head, but he murders Helen? Hmm.”

I stopped and smiled. Adam looked at me. “What are you thinking?” he asked eagerly.

“Sheriff, can your girl call the airport and see what flights came in from Newport on that day?” I asked, then stopped. “No, wait. Rose, you remember how she got here, the same guy that drove me.”

Rose thought for a moment. “The ladies took a limo. Nice driver, but a little nosy. He took the luggage up to the landing, remember? ” She stopped and stared out the window.

“What is it, Rose?” I asked, keeping my voice quiet. Rose blinked a few times and shook her head.

“I don’t know. The driver…” She stopped and laughed. “I’m all jumbled. Where were we? Oh, Helen’s driver, let me see,” she said and I stood waiting patiently—not one of the better things I do; it’s a virtue I lack.

Then Rose smiled. “Of course, what a fool I am. Lou.” 

“Lou brought her here? Good guy, Lou. Were you here last spring? He was…” Adam started and Rose interrupted him.

“Yes, I was here last spring and last winter. I remember Will dancing on the bar on St. Paddy’s Day. You, Adam Sinclair, never gave me the time of day,” she said angrily and Adam stopped laughing and sat there.

I looked up, begging the gods for assistance. “Hey, kids,” I begged. “The big picture here?”

They both blushed. Adam let out a professional cough. “Right. Lou Travis. He’s our only cab driver. He must have picked her up,” he said and I prayed he would take it just one step further and waited, giving him a hopeful look.

He blinked once or twice and the light went on. “I’ll call him, he can tell me where he picked her up.”

“And if she was alone,” I added.

For an instant, he looked perplexed. The light went on again as he nodded.

“I think we’re closer. Now, Sheriff, we need to find her cell phone. What say we take a look in her room?” I asked.

“Good idea.”

“I’ll be headin’ to bed,” Rose said. “Good night, you two.”

I stepped aside as Adam opened Helen’s bedroom door. “Try not to disturb too much,” Adam said as we went in different directions.

I walked over to the luggage and picked up the folded clothes. I noticed how neatly the suitcase was packed. “She was definitely ready to scram,” I said. Then as I unzipped a small compartment, I found the phone.

“Bingo,” I said happily.

Once again, I stepped aside for Adam. He gingerly picked up the phone, and after a moment of calculated button pushing, he found the stored numbers. There were four.

“Okay,” he said and took out the notepad and pen, scribbling down the numbers. “I’ll call Audrey to have these traced. I think that’s enough for one night. Go to bed. Good night and… thanks.”

I grinned reluctantly. “You’re welcome. Good night.”

I crept into the room and completely forgot about Maggie. She was in bed sound asleep. I sat in a comfortable chair and watched her.

I honestly had no idea how long I sat there. She moved, and as if she knew she was being watched, her eyes flew open. “Hello,” she said in a dreamy voice that melted my heart.

“Hey,” I replied softly.

“Are you all right?” she asked and hugged the pillow.

“Yeah, I’m fine. This is one convoluted mess, though,” I said through my yawn. “So what do we have? Sheriff Sinclair finally got a search warrant. And he found a letter opener tucked away in Rose’s linen closet. It was covered in blood.” I stretched my legs out in front of me and groaned. “Jack figured there was one wound, and I’m sure the letter opener is the murder weapon. I can’t wait to see what fingerprints he lifts off it.”

Maggie lay in bed watching me through sleepy eyes and nodded in agreement. “Only one stab wound.”

“Yep. It has to be the letter opener. Unless the blood types don’t match, we at least have the weapon. Honestly, it could have been any one of them.” I sighed. I couldn’t believe we were talking about a murder while Maggie looked so adorable lying in bed. “Once again, you’re in the middle of a mess with me, Maggie. You…”

I’m sure she heard the concern in my voice. “Don’t tell me I should have stayed home,” Maggie said. “You’re going to have to get used to me worrying about you. I don’t want to be in your back pocket, Kate, but I…”

She took a deep breath and sat up; I saw her pensive look once again. “You what?” I asked as I watched her sleepy face.

“I don’t want to get in the way. I know you like your space and I respect that. I don’t want you to feel like I’m invading your space. But I …”

I cocked my head when she blushed horribly. “You what?” I whispered again.

She shrugged in an adorable fashion. “I just love to be near you. I’ve wanted to tell you that the moment I got here. But with all this going on, I didn’t want to sound like a sappy woman.”

Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather. That was not what I was expecting. Actually, I had no idea what I expected.

She lay back down and hugged her pillow. I saw her slight smile and grinned. I sat back and put my hands behind my head. “So you like being near me, huh?”

“Yep,” she whispered and closed her eyes.

She wants to be near me? I thought. We’ve been lovers now for nearly six months. I must have known this. Why now did this seem like a revelation? Maybe it was the fact she verbalized it. I don’t know. I must have been smiling.

“What’s the joke?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I said with a wry chuckle. “You’ll just wake up one morning and realize you’ve hooked up with an idiot…”

Maggie grinned slightly as she closed her eyes. “I’ll let you know in the morning,” she whispered on the edge of sleep. “Now come to bed.”

I smiled and quickly slipped out of my clothes and into a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, then spooned behind her. I heard her sigh as she sexily wiggled her silk-clad hips into me. As I kissed the back of her head, I yawned widely. “I so want to make love to you,” I whispered and pathetically yawned again.

Maggie laughed and held my hand to her breast. “And I’d love you to, but you’re exhausted, Kate. Go to sleep.”

“Geesh, how romantic is that?”

 “This is romantic,” Maggie insisted. She quickly turned to face me. My heart raced as I took in the slight scent of her perfume. “That you and I are snuggling in a warm bed while it’s snowing and freezing outside is very romantic.”

“I guess it is. You’re so sexy in those PJs, and I’m in stupid sweats. I don’t remember what romance is like,” I said and moved restlessly. I didn’t like that admission.

 Maggie sat up and pushed me on my back. I so wanted to swallow at that moment. “I think you look sexy in those sweats and I’ll help you remember,” she said in a soft caring voice that would forever make my knees knock.

“You look so beautiful in this lighting, Maggie. I wish I had my camera. I-I could go get it and take a great…”

Maggie’s warm lips against mine stopped my rambling. She pulled back slightly and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek. “Or you could just kiss me silly,” I whispered.

Maggie laid her beautiful body against mine and cuddled her head into my shoulder. I in turn slipped my arm around her shoulders and held her close. “Your heart is beating very fast, Kate.” I heard her smug tone.

“It’s because you’re giving me a heart attack, young woman. I told you I was too old for this.”

Maggie pulled the down comforter over us. “You have such a warm body,” she whispered tiredly.

“It’s the impending heart attack we just spoke of.” I smiled at the small chuckle I heard. I gently kissed the top of her head. “Good night, Maggie.”

“G’night, Kate,” she whispered.

In a moment or two, I could tell by the steady cadence of her breathing, Maggie was sound asleep in my arms. I looked out as the wet snow pelted the window feeling as though I was the only one in the world who was awake. In the past, when I felt that way, it was always followed by a stabbing pang of loneliness. This time, I didn’t feel alone. Feeling Maggie’s warm body against mine, for the first time in—I thought for a moment as I looked out the window. For the first time ever, I felt part of someone.

Funny, all it took was a little doctor from Cedar Lake, Illinois, who thinks I’m sexy in my sweatpants.

Chapter 18

I woke to the sound of heavy breathing; I hoped it was Maggie. Outside, the wind and snow whipped around the window, but I was warm and Maggie was beside me, well, behind me. We must have dueled for position in our sleep. Maggie now had her arm around my waist and her small hand cupping my breast. The little dickens—copping a feel off an old woman, eh? I chuckled inwardly and held her hand close. Glancing at my watch, I sighed happily. It was only five in the morning. Usually, I was up and running with the first light of day. Now in the warm embrace of the diminutive doctor, I was loath to move. I was unbelievably comfortable until the thought of our situation hit me. There was still a murderer running around. Kinda hard to be romantic surrounded by murder. Though the idea didn’t stop me from falling back to sleep.

When I awoke again, it was nearly seven o’clock. I tried to slip out of Maggie’s embrace and I heard a small groan. “It’s too early, Kate. Catch the murderer after breakfast.”

I laughed and turned to face her. I brushed the thick waves from her face and saw her small grin. “You have the thickest hair,” I whispered and kissed her forehead. “Good morning, sweetie.”

Maggie smiled sleepily and whispered, “G’morning. I love waking up next to you.”

I pulled back slightly, trying to calm my racing heart and raging hormones. “Me too. I was thinking just that earlier.”

Maggie searched my eyes as I gazed into hers. “Tell me, what you were thinking?”

I took a deep breath, not used to expressing my feelings. I do with Chance, but with her being a dog, I found it much safer. “I was thinking how I’m usually up and running at the crack of dawn, but this morning…” I stopped when I felt her warm fingers slip under my T-shirt and lightly glide up and down my bare skin, instantly causing a shiver down my spine.

“Go on,” Maggie said in a voice I had come to love; it was low and seductive.

“Th-this morning, I didn’t want to move. You were so warm and I was so comfortable,” I said as my voice cracked. Her wicked soft fingers slipped down to the small of my back. I broke out in a cold sweat as her fingertips strayed to the waistband of my sweats.

In a bold move that I had no idea I possessed, I rolled Maggie onto her back and loomed over her. “Maggie,” I said breathlessly. The urge was so strong.

“Kiss me, please,” she whispered and I did.

I kissed her with every ounce of my being. I felt her heartbeat against mine. Her body trembled, and as I reached in and lightly cupped her breast…there was a knock at the door.

I pulled back so quickly I nearly fell out of bed.

“Kate? Are you awake?” It was Simon.

I looked down at Maggie for the answer. She laughed at what must have been the stupidest look on my face. “Kate, honey, he knows we’re in here. It’s okay, we’re grownups. I won’t tell Aunt Hannah. Answer the door,” she whispered and pushed me out of bed.

“Oh, right,” I said and chuckled nervously.

Simon was grinning as I opened the door. “Good morning. For someone who’s an early riser, you certainly are a lazy thing this morning. You missed breakfast, but Rose will…”

“What do you want?” I heard Maggie laughing behind me as I glared at Simon.

Simon laughed and leaned against the door. “Dr. Stockton is coming to take our fingerprints. Your attendance is required. He’ll be here in an hour.” He bowed dramatically.

“We’ll be right down,” I said.

He peered over my shoulder. “Good morning, Maggie. How are the accommodations? I do hope your evening was—”

I slammed the door on his laughter.

Jack Stockton was sitting at the kitchen table when Maggie and I walked in. He looked up and offered a kindly smile to me and a curious look to Maggie.

“Dr. Winfield, this is Dr. Stockton,” I said by way of an introduction.

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Stockton,” Maggie said.

“Same here. Call me Jack, please,” he said as the sheriff came through the swinging doors.

“Good morning,” he grumbled and walked straight to the stove and the coffeepot. Maggie gathered two cups and joined him.

“I agree, Sheriff,” she said. Adam Sinclair smiled grudgingly as he poured.

“Audrey made sure I have everything I need,” Jack said and motioned to the table. I saw his holstered weapon. He must have seen my surprised look. “I know, Miss Kitty thought I might need that. I have no idea how to use it,” he said honestly. “If I can’t cure them, I never thought of shooting them.”

Maggie laughed out loud. “It crossed my mind several times,” she countered and Jack laughed along.

Doctors have a warped sense of humor.

“I’m taking fingerprints, something I’ve never done before. God, I should’ve stayed in Stamford.” He sighed sadly.

“It won’t take long,” Adam said and headed out of the kitchen.

I saw the look of concern on Jack’s face. When he caught me watching him, he smiled. “He needs your help, Kate, but he’s too proud to ask.”

“He still sees me as a suspect, Jack,” I said seriously.

Jack shook his head. “He doesn’t know what to think. He’s in over his head. The mayor got him the other night and told him in no uncertain terms to solve this quickly and quietly. That means no state police, no news, and no help. So he feels compelled to do this alone,” he said and sat back. “We are not equipped to handle this. I have no idea how to take fingerprints.” He gave me a hopeful look that I tried to ignore. I glanced at Maggie, who gave me the same look. Crap.

“I’ll sit with you if you want. I used to help my father when he’d let me tag along at the precinct.”

Maggie cleared her throat and Jack smiled. “Of course, I may need your assistance, Dr. Winfield.”

“Only if I can help,” Maggie said innocently.

I rolled my eyes. “Jack, how well do you know Simon Merriweather?” I asked as Jack started setting up his task.

“It was last winter after he purchased the house. The town was all abuzz over the charming, dashing man who wanted to turn the old eyesore into an inn. When I got a glimpse of him, I could see why the buzz. Simon Merriweather was charming.”

“What happened?” Maggie asked as she drank her coffee.

Jack was staring at the table. He looked up and smiled. “I found out, through the town grapevine, what happened to his partner and I instantly felt sad for him. Our first meeting was brief. When I saw him flirting with every waiter and busboy at the restaurant, I figured Simon didn’t want anything serious.

“So, when asked, I declined Mr. Merriweather’s invitation to dinner. What struck me was the disappointed look on his face. Then Simon smiled, shook my hand, and walked away. That was that. Since then, we have only spoken in polite conversation. Though the other day, when Simon saw me while walking with you, Kate, he did an about-face and took off toward the restaurant.” Jack let out an amused laugh.

“Is that why we practically ran to the restaurant?” I asked and shook my head.

“I really do like him. He’s interesting and quite attractive. However, I’m tired of the dating game, and I don’t blame Simon for not wanting to get involved with anyone. Twenty years is a long time with one person.”

We sat in silence for a moment or two, seemingly lost in our thoughts.

“Ah, well. He is funny,” Jack chuckled. “I sincerely hope he’s not a murderer.”

“You hope who is not a murderer?” Simon said from the doorway.

I glanced at Jack, who was beet red. Maggie found her coffee cup enthralling.

Simon did not wait for an answer. I saw the look of sadness on his face. “I thought I would see if you needed anything, Doctor.”

“I’m fine, Simon,” Maggie said, then stopped abruptly. It was now her turn to blush. “I-I thought you meant…” Maggie avoided me.

I liked this: Maggie Winfield stammering. Hmm.

Simon saw the gun and holster on the table. “Honestly, Doctor, you don’t have to shoot. I’ll come quietly,” he said with a smirk.

“I doubt that, Mr. Merriweather,” he said and finished setting up. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Adam Sinclair walked in looking tired and worn. I felt bad for him. “Let’s get started. We don’t need your fingerprints, Miss Ryan,” he said and waved my file in the air. “We’re a small town, but we’re not backward.”

“Sheriff, I never said you were,” I started arguing with him. “Look, you’ve got a job to do. I’d like to help, but if you...” I stopped and tiredly rubbed my forehead. “There’s a murderer out there and possibly another. Can we just concentrate on that and cut out the damned snide remarks?”

“Look, Adam. She’s right. Whether you want to trust her or not, she seems to know what she’s talking about. Ease up, you need the help.”

Adam rubbed his chin and nodded. “I know, I know.” The phone on his belt beeped then.

Audrey’s voice crackled with static. “Well, they found her brother and put him on a flight. He’s due to arrive this evening.”

“Do they know where he was when his sister was murdered?” Adam asked and listened.

“He’s got an alibi, Adam. Says he was at the Newport Country Club all night. He was with the mayor of Newport at exactly 12:05 a.m.”

“All right, Aud, thanks. I’ll be back in a little while.” He angrily shut off the phone. “Damn it. Let’s get this over with.”

One by one, Jack took everyone’s fingerprints as Maggie and I sat back and watched.

“What a colossal waste of time, young man,” Emily grumbled as Jack gently rolled her fingers onto the paper.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said kindly as she stood, snatched a napkin, and marched out of the kitchen.

Kit poked her head in. “My turn? This is so exciting,” she rambled happily. Simon stood behind her, his hand gently placed on her shoulder. “Don’t you think so, Simon?” she asked and looked up at him.

By the look on Jack’s face, I could tell he saw the same affection between Simon and these women that I did.

“Quite so, dear Kit,” Simon whispered affectionately. Kit watched Jack as he took her hand.

“You have a nice bedside manner, Doctor. Are you single?” she asked and Jack turned four shades of red. Simon smiled curiously and waited for his answer.

Jack avoided his look and cleared his throat. “Yes, Kit, I am.” He smiled and winked at her. “Are you flirting with me?”

Kit giggled and glanced at Simon. She leaned in and whispered something to Jack. Simon frowned as he heard none of it. Jack gave her a surprised look. “No? Really?” he asked amazed and looked at Simon, who gave them both a wary look.

“No secrets now,” he warned and Kit laughed.

“Just this one,” she said and Jack laughed out loud.

I hid my eyes. Fingerprints and flirting.

“All right, all right. That’s enough from you, darling,” Simon said and helped her out of the chair. He walked her to the door and whispered, “You’ll tell me later?”

Kit giggled and nodded, then walked out.

Simon smiled and turned back to Jack, who was sporting a smug grin. “You’re next.”

Simon gracefully sat across from him and held out his hand, which Jack took. “You’ve a strong, steady hand, Dr. Stockton,” he said sarcastically.

Jack avoided his look and chuckled slightly. “You’re lucky I’m not wielding a scalpel. All done. Now that was painless, wasn’t it?”

Simon bowed as he left the kitchen. The Thomases were right behind.

Both looked tired and decidedly worn. The distance between them was measurable. Something was up with Bob, I thought as Jack took his fingerprints. Linda offered a small smile and nod to Maggie and me. In short time, Jack had finished with them.

Adam came in as Bob and Linda left. I watched their retreating figures. “He became too unglued at dinner,” I said.

“I agree, Kate. He was a little too upset,” Maggie said.

“Tell me what happened again.” Adam pulled up a chair.

“He knows something. I’m sure of it, but what?” I asked, feeling exasperated. “How is he connected to this mess? At dinner, he vowed he wouldn’t be the ‘patsy.’ He told me to tell ‘them’ that. Patsy for what? Tell who, what?” I was getting irritated with each unanswered question. “Helen came here uninvited, everybody threatened her. Rebecca argued with Helen the night she was killed. ‘I’ll see you dead first,’ I overheard her say to Helen.”

Adam listened and said nothing. “Patsy,” he said thoughtfully. “So you don’t think he’s just here by coincidence?”

“Nope.” I looked at the file of fingerprints. “They’re all connected somehow.”

Adam gave me a wary glance. “And you’re not?” he asked frankly.

“Sheriff, I did not kill Helen,” I said through clenched teeth. I felt Maggie’s hand as she gently squeezed my knee. “I need you to find the murderer if only to get you off my back.”

Adam smiled. “Finally, the cool Miss Ryan can be rankled.”

I glared at him and saw his challenging look. “I give up.”

I truly wanted to slap the smug look off his face. Adam glanced at Jack. “We have to match these fingerprints to the ones we lifted from the letter opener.”

I stood, wanting to leave before my anger got the better of me. Maggie propelled me out of the kitchen.

“Calm down,” Maggie said and rubbed my back. I took a deep breath, wondering how her touch instantly calmed me.

 “Matching fingerprints in a kitchen,” I grunted. “I’m surprised they didn’t want to do the autopsy on the table.”

“Kate, this isn’t like you to be so negative,” Maggie said as she pushed me onto the couch and sat next to me.

“I know. I’m just at my wit’s end here and I want to go home.” I heard the pout in my voice. We both laughed for a moment and I reached over and took her hand. “Actually, I’d like to be back up in our room and take up where we left off.”

“Ah, that’s the reason for your irritability,” Maggie whispered and nudged my shoulder.

It was true. I was pissed that we were interrupted. “Nothing like a good murder to kill your libido,” I said dryly. “I wonder if we’ll be missed.”

Maggie sported an adorably shy grin and grabbed my hand.

Chapter 19

Sometime later, Maggie and I were breathless. I was pleased because I didn’t hurt myself. Maggie was pleased because we did not wake up the dead. Poor choice of words, I know, but nonetheless true.

I looked over at Maggie when she sighed and turned to face me. “I love you.”

“I sincerely hope so, Doctor,” I said, flexing my back. “I think I may have pulled something.”

Maggie laughed and reached for her robe. “I think we missed lunch.” She slipped into the robe and walked over to the window. “It’s stopped snowing and the sun is out. Spring will be here in a month, but you can’t tell.”

I placed my hands behind my head and watched her. The midday sunbeams that danced through the window made her auburn hair shimmer in its light. “You are beautiful. You know that, don’t you?”

She turned to me and smiled. “If you say so.”

“I do.”

Maggie glanced at the desk and picked up a book. “Oscar Wilde again?” she asked, absently leafing through the book.

I reached for my sweats and T-shirt, then joined her. “I don’t know what the hell this has to do with anything, but,” I said and took the book from her, “I met Hester Worsley this week.”

Maggie sat on the edge of the desk. “Really? What’s she like? I remember how you chased her down the stairwell at the Christmas benefit. You goof.”

“She’s very nice.” I shrugged and set the book on the desk.

Maggie glared playfully. “Should I be jealous?”

I heard the question, but I was staring at the book. And once again, Hester’s face flashed through my mind. And once again, my heart started to pound in my chest. What the hell was it? I asked myself. I heard my name and looked up to see Maggie cautiously watching me.

“What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know, Maggie.” I said. “Did you know Hester Worsley is a character in one of his plays?”

“Whose? Oscar Wilde?” Maggie picked up the book again.

I nodded and sat in the desk chair and rocked back and forth.

“That’s a coincidence,” Maggie said.

“Is it?”

Maggie raised her eyebrows as she looked at me. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m not sure.” I leaned back and looked at the ceiling. “Someone left the exact same book at the back door of my cabin—”

“This is not your copy?” Maggie asked.

“No, it was here in the room,” I said and continued, “Remember, last summer with that crazy mess at my lake?” I looked and Maggie nodded but said nothing. “You and everyone had left. I went back to my cabin and Ben had it, said he saw it there and took it for me.”

“What does that have to do with Hester? Other than she has the same name as a character in his play?”

I could not get a focused thought on this. There was something there. I knew it was in the back of my scrambled brain.

Maggie continued to leaf through the book. “Kate,” she said. I looked at her and waited. “Remember at Christmas, we were looking at that book. There was a page that was bookmarked.” She looked at me then. “I can’t remember what it was.”

I thought back to the book that was left at my doorstep. “The Ballad of the Reading Gaol.”

Maggie’s complexion turned ashen; I got an anxious feeling as I watched. “Why?” I asked.

Maggie turned the book and presented it to me. I looked at the book. A plain, white bookmark lay on a page, the page where “The Ballad of the Reading Gaol” started.

“What the hell is happening?” I picked up the bookmark. “This is the exact same bookmark that was left in the other book. How—” I scanned the poem looking for something, anything to trigger my memory.

It was then I saw it.

“Can this be just an odd coincidence?” Maggie asked.

I held up my hand to silence her and recited the line. “Yet each man kills the thing he loves.” Maggie said nothing as I stared at the page. “Why does this sound so familiar to me?”

Maggie took the book out of my hand and placed it on the desk. She took my hands in hers. “Kate, if this is not a coincidence, then somehow you know who left the book at your door and who marked this book exactly.”

I tiredly scrubbed my face with my hands, feeling irritated and helpless.

“You’ve never met Hester before?” Maggie asked, sounding every bit like my hospital psychiatrist from years ago, which made me even more irritable. I beat down the urge to be sarcastic.

“No, I have not,” I said curtly. I glanced at Maggie; I couldn’t read her face—again like my psychiatrist. I tightly held her hands. She smiled and gave them a reassuring tug.

“This is not a coincidence, is it?”

“No, I don’t think so. I don’t know what Hester Worsley has to do with me or this murder. But Adam is having her checked out, maybe he can shed some light on her past or who she is.”

“Aunt Hannah told me she had showed up at a board meeting, telling her that she heard Aunt Hannah needed an assistant for the Christmas benefit and she had time.”

“I suppose Hannah did no background check? Why should she?” I asked in a deflated voice.

“Right. I mean, she was so busy and welcomed any help.” Maggie sported a confounded look that made me laugh.

“Exactly how I feel,” I said and stood. I stretched my back, then kissed Maggie’s forehead. “Enough for now. I need a shower.”

Maggie grinned and I vehemently shook my head. “Alone, you temptress.”

Chapter 20

Later that afternoon, I watched Adam Sinclair as he helplessly looked around the living room. He was probably a better teacher than he was a sheriff. He was doing his level best to keep this investigation going in the right direction. With this bunch of suspects, that was not easy.

They watched Adam as he stood in the doorway. Jack was behind him and did not look at Simon. Oh, this was not good.

Adam floundered as he held the file in his hands. He had no clue what to do next, I thought. He’s probably never done this before. I was sure Simon’s fingerprints matched those on the letter opener.

“We found a match.” Adam took deep breath as if he were lucky he got that sentence out. “We need to have someone who’s better equipped than we are to have a look. Someone who actually has a lab and the proper equipment, not a kitchen. We-we want to be sure.” He stopped and glanced at Simon. “Mr. Merriweather, you need to come with me. Your prints match the ones on the murder weapon.”

“I won’t allow this,” Emily cried out and took a menacing step toward Adam Sinclair, who raised an eyebrow and took a protective step back.

“Miss Masters…” he started seriously, but the host of cackling stopped him.

“You can’t be serious. Simon would never, could never kill anyone,” she continued.

Rebecca stood, leaning on her cane. “Sheriff, there has got to be a mistake. Emily is right, Simon didn’t kill Helen,” she said firmly and Adam gave her a curious look.

“You seem pretty sure of that, Miss Townsend. However, I can only deal in the facts and evidence,” he said.

I heard the sadness in his voice. He didn’t like this, either, I thought. Then he looked over at Simon, who was standing by the fire, gazing into the dancing flames. Kit was at his side holding his arm.

“My prince, just tell them you didn’t do it,” she whispered.

Simon smiled, with sad eyes as he kissed the top of her head. “I don’t think the good inspector will believe that, little one,” he said and took a deep breath.

I watched the whole scene unravel before me. Maggie had my arm in a vise grip. I watched Simon and tried desperately to imagine him stabbing Helen, then tossing her off the balcony. I had to admit, it was possible—unlikely, but possible.

His fingerprints were all over the letter opener. He put his muddied boots in his closet, not in the utility room where one would usually put them. Simon Merriweather was a fastidious gentleman. Why would he take the risk of soiling very expensive shoes and clothes by putting the muddy ones in with them? I frantically tried to come up with a good reason, and frankly, I was stumped.

I looked over to see Rebecca watching me carefully as if knowing what I was thinking. A deflated look came over her and I winced.

“Mr. Merriweather, I’m sorry but I…” Adam started and Simon let go of Kit and walked over to him. He smiled and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I know. You’ve got to run me in,” he said sarcastically. He put his wrists together and held them in front of him.

“Simon, this is not funny,” Emily hissed and faced Adam.

Jack stood there, saying nothing.

“You two bumbling idiots have the wrong man. Just because his fingerprints were on the letter opener doesn’t mean he killed Helen and you know it,” she said rudely.

Simon put his arm around her. “The good inspector is just doing his job, Em dear. Now behave,” he scolded gently.

He looked at Rebecca. “Becky, call Malcolm if you would. I believe I’ll need legal assistance before too long.”

Rebecca only nodded and looked at Adam. “I agree, a lawsuit will be filed once you find the murderer,” she said with a threatening tone.

Simon chuckled softly as he watched the astonished sheriff. Adam sighed and rubbed his forehead. He looked over at Rose, who had tears in her eyes. She angrily wiped them away and glared at Adam.

“Don’t be worrying about a thing,” Rose said as she looked at Simon. “I’ll take care of everything.”

Simon smiled and nodded. “I know you will, thank you, dear Rose. Handcuffs won’t be necessary, Inspector. I won’t run away,” he said smugly.

As Adam led him out of the living room, Simon looked over his shoulder at me and winked as they walked out.

I regarded those left behind. Rebecca tiredly sat by the fireplace and gazed into it, deep in thought. Emily held on to Kit, and Rose dejectedly sat on the couch. Bob and Linda, who had remained silent throughout, just sat there.

I paced back and forth, trying to get a handle on this. Finally, Rebecca cleared her throat and everyone looked up. “Well, Kate, how much?”

I stopped pacing and gave her a confused look. “How much what?” I asked cautiously.

Rebecca sported a smug grin as she leaned forward on her cane. “What’s the going rate for a private investigator? I want to hire you to find out who killed Helen.”

Immediately, every eye was on me. Emily, Rose, and Kit for the first time looked hopeful. Even Linda’s eyes widened at the prospect.

 I was stunned and leaned against the desk. “What?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes and gave me an impatient look. “You heard me, my dear. You know Simon didn’t kill Helen. I will not see him go to prison, not Simon. Now what do you charge?”

Hopeful eyes beamed at me and I looked from one to the other. “Look people, I’m not a PI anymore. I-I,” I stumbled helplessly and let out a resigned groan.

Maggie was standing beside me. She shrugged when I gave her a pleading look. “What else can you do, Kate?”

“Go home?” I whispered hopefully. When Maggie didn’t agree, which really irritated me, I shook my head and gave up.

Back in our room, Maggie lay on the bed as I called Connie.

“Simon? You’re joking. Simon Merriweather wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Connie grumbled. “So your gal is there, eh? Put me on speaker phone.”

I gave the phone a curious look and looked at Maggie. “She wants me to put this on speaker. Do I have one?”

Maggie rolled her eyes and assisted me. Who knew? She set the phone on the desk. “Hello, Connie. It’s Maggie Winfield.”

Connie? They were on a first-name basis?

“Hello, Doctor. How’s our wayward photographer doing?” 

I frowned deeply and sat on the bed.

“She’s in the middle of it again, Connie. It finds her, I swear it does.” Maggie leaned against the desk. I ignored them.

“What the hell is going on? Kate, are you there?” she barked into the phone.

“Yeah, I’m here. They want me to find out who killed Helen. Crap, Connie, they want to hire me. I can’t take money from these women. Besides, I don’t think Simon did it. I don’t know what to do,” I said almost helplessly.

“The police know what they’re doing, Kate,” Connie said.

“That’s just it, they don’t. Simon didn’t do it and I’d never forgive myself if I just walked away,” I said. “And now, Maggie is here and I …”

“What’s wrong with that?” Connie asked.

“Yes, what’s wrong with that?” Maggie retorted and I heard the anger in her voice.

I looked at Maggie. “Because there’s a murderer running around and I don’t want you mixed up in this.”

Maggie rolled her eyes and looked down at the phone. “See what I mean, Connie?”

I heard Connie laugh on the other end. “Kate Ryan, you’re an idiot. She’s your partner, right?”

I completely avoided Maggie’s face. “Well, right.”

“You care for her, right?”

“Right,” I answered obediently. I found the hardwood floor enthralling at this point.

“Then you’d better be careful. One of these days, she’s going to meet someone who’ll treat her like a grown woman and partner. And you’ll be sitting there with that big Irish mug of yours hanging out wondering how in the world it happened. Is that what you want?” her voice crackled over the line.

How ridiculous is this? Talking on speaker phone. “N-no, that is not what I want.” I then looked at Maggie, who had tears in her eyes. “I love you,” I said and Maggie blinked, sending the tears down her face.

Maggie walked over to me and I jumped off the bed and met her halfway. She threw her arms around my neck and sobbed. “I love you, too!” she said through her sobs.

“I love you, too, Kate,” Connie’s voice called out.

Maggie and I laughed as I wiped the tears off her cheek. “Connie?”

“I’m here, darling.”

“I guess I’m going to find out who killed Helen without pissing off the sheriff,” I said, never losing eye contact with Maggie.

“Then get to work and solve this mess and get your ass back here,” Connie said in her usual gruff voice. “In one piece,” she added before disconnecting the call.

I held Maggie and looked down into her blue eyes. “I don’t suppose Simon did it and we can just go home?” I closed my eyes and warm fingers caressed the back of my neck.

“I don’t think so,” Maggie whispered. She pulled back and kissed my chin. “So you’d better get cracking, Miss Ryan. C’mon, you’d better tell the ladies your decision.”

As we walked down the stairs, Rose came bounding out of the kitchen; she was grinning like a Cheshire cat. “I knew you wouldn’t let them down.”

My mouth nearly hit the floor.

“What are you talking about?” Maggie asked.

When Rose blushed furiously, I exclaimed, “Oh, you listened at my…our door.”

“I had the linen, and I, well I—”

“Do the others know?” I asked helplessly.

Rose actually seemed indignant. “Of course not. I’m not a tattletale.” She shook her head and walked back into the kitchen.

“She’s an eavesdropper, but not a tattletale,” I said. Maggie laughed as she pulled me into the library.

We stood in the doorway looking at the hopeful faces. “This is not a good idea,” I mumbled to Maggie, who nudged me farther into the library.

“You’ll do it?” Rebecca asked. Emily and Kit sat forward with anticipation.

Bob seemed irritated, which was quickly becoming annoying. Linda looked as eager as the ladies.

“I will do my best,” I said. “But please don’t think I’m a miracle worker. And I will not take your money.”

Rebecca gave a firm nod. “Done. I’ve called Malcolm. He’ll be here within the hour. I will not have Simon staying in that jail overnight. Malcolm is calling that inept sheriff as we speak.”

True to Rebecca’s word, Simon’s lawyer showed up an hour later. He greeted each person and kissed the three women affectionately. “Okay. Rebecca told me the story. I cannot believe someone killed Helen Caruthers.” He looked at Maggie and me.

Rebecca made the introductions and his eyebrows rose when she told him I was a private investigator.

“Retired PI,” I corrected her.

“You don’t believe Simon killed Helen?”

“I don’t know what to believe. My gut says no,” I replied.

He glanced at this watch. “I can’t believe Simon could murder anyone.”

I watched him. He was tall and lanky. Snow-white hair and crystal blue eyes, and of course, impeccably dressed.

“Now if someone would take me to the jailhouse. I need to see him.”

I offered to take him and grabbed Maggie’s hand. We walked out with Malcolm Van Dyke, the man who would save Simon.

Chapter 21

When we walked into the small police department, Jack and Adam were sitting at the sheriff’s desk. Both men looked up. I was about to say something when I thought I heard singing.

Audrey was standing by the coffee maker and laughed at our expressions.

“Is he singing?” I could not hide my incredulous tone.

Adam nodded and opened the door leading to the one and only jail cell.

“Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen...Nobody knows my sorrow...” Simon’s tenor voice sang from his cell.

Jack put a hand to his mouth and stifled a hearty laugh. Audrey bit her lip while Adam glared at both of them. We followed him through the door. There Simon sat, well lounged on his cot. With his long legs crossed and hanging over the small bed, he had his arms behind his head as he gazed into space.

“Must I remind you that you are a murder suspect?” Adam asked sternly.

He stopped singing as Adam came into view. “Inspector! Have I been sprung or is supper being served? I believe I just missed lunch.”

Jack shook his head and followed Adam. Simon raised an eyebrow and smiled at the doctor. Dr. Stockton, what brings you to this side of town?”

“Mr. Merriweather, this is serious,” Adam said.

Simon stopped smiling and nodded. “Only if your food is inedible, Inspector,” he said gravely.

Mr. Van Dyke, Maggie, and I stood crammed in the doorway of the jail. Audrey spoke from behind us. “Simon, Mr. Malcolm Van Dyke is here.”

Simon grinned. “Heavens, that was quick,” he said and walked over to the bars and held on to them. Adam stepped out of the way, but Jack stood there looking at Simon.

“This is serious, Simon,” Jack reminded him. Simon cocked his head and smiled, both seemingly forgetting we were there.

“That’s the first time you’ve called me Simon…Jack,” he said as his blue eyes sparkled. “Figures it would have to be on my way to the gallows.”

Jack frowned deeply as he took a step closer and held on to the cell bars. “Damn it, man, quit joking. You’re in this deep,” Jack said helplessly.

What an understatement.

“You…you didn’t…” He stopped and looked down.

Simon smiled sadly, reached out through the bars, and touched his hand. “No, Jack, I did not.”

We watched in silence as they looked at each other for a moment. Simon grinned. “That was pleasant,” he said and slowly took his hand away.

Adam cleared his throat and Jack backed away from the bars. Simon watched him, then noticed his lawyer.

“Malcolm! My savior,” he exclaimed. “And, Kate, how nice of you to come.” He stopped as Malcolm wedged his way closer. It was a small area, not meant for six people.

“Okay, okay. Everybody out but Mr. Van Dyke,” Adam ordered.

“I’d like Miss Ryan to stay,” Malcolm said evenly.

For an instant, it looked as though Adam was going to argue. He just shrugged and walked out.

Malcolm stood there and gave Simon a fatherly look. Simon smiled sheepishly.

“Start,” Malcolm said and offered me a small chair, then he sat and waited, I’m sure for a good story.

Simon chuckled and explained. When he was finished, he looked at Malcolm. “I did not kill Helen.”

Malcolm painfully pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I believe you, but someone did. Now there’s got to be something going on.”

“Kate was Miss Marple in a previous life. I think she’s our best bet,” Simon said and gave me a wink.

“I’m sure Sheriff Sinclair can find the murderer,” Malcolm insisted and looked at me. “No offense, Miss Ryan, but he is the law here.”

“I totally agree, Mr. Van Dyke,” I assured him.

Simon groaned. “No, no, no. I like Adam Sinclair and I think he’ll do what he can. I don’t believe he has a mind for murder. I believe Kate does.”

At that moment, I hated my mind.

“Now when am I getting out of here?” he asked.

Malcolm nodded. “I’ll have to convince the good sheriff that you’re not a flight risk. It would help if you were more contrite and less sarcastic, Simon.”

Simon frowned childishly and toyed with the cell bars. “Oh, all right. I’ll be the picture of respectability,” he started and Malcolm put up his hand.

“Don’t go overboard. Just keep quiet.”

“That I can do. I think.”

I wasn’t at all sure.

After making sure Simon was not fleeing to Argentina, Adam had Audrey draw up the release papers. I saw Adam Sinclair’s hesitant posture as he shuffled papers on his desk. “Miss Ryan, I was going to go over and talk to Lou. Would you like to tag along?”

He didn’t wait for my answer as he walked out. I shook my head and Maggie placed a warm hand on my arm. “Temper,” she whispered and kissed my cheek.

Lou was in the garage working on the only taxi in Seaview as Adam and I crossed the street.

“Adam,” Lou said with a smile and dried his hands on his jeans. Then he saw me and nodded.

“Lou, we need to ask you about the fare you took to Mr. Merriweather’s a couple days ago. Older woman, tall, refined.”

Lou nodded. “Cheap.”

“Dead,” Adam said. I stifled a grin as Lou turned bright red.

“Geez, sorry. I didn’t mean,” he stumbled.

Adam waved him off. “Where did you pick her up?”

“The airport,” he said logically.

“And you took her right to the inn?” I asked.

“No, took her to the motel. She stayed there overnight, then I got a call to take her to the inn the next day,” he said and Adam and I exchanged glances. “Why, is that bad?”

“No. No. Thanks, Lou,” Adam said as he walked out of the garage. I stole a glance at him.

“Well.”

When that was as all he said, I waited. That’s it?

“I’ve got to get back to the office and deal with Merriweather’s lawyer. You coming?” he asked.

“I’m just gonna take a walk, if you don’t mind.”

I watched him walk back to the police station, then headed down the street to the motel. A young woman sitting behind the desk looked up and smiled as I walked up to her.

 “Good afternoon. A friend of mine stayed here the other night and I think she may have left her wallet in the room. Her name is Helen Caruthers,” I said and the woman looked through the registry.

“Yes, she was here for one night. The room has been cleaned and nothing was given to me. It was room eight.”

“Would you mind if I took a look? I’d just feel better,” I pleaded and the young woman looked around.

“I’m not supposed to, but the room hasn’t been rented since,” she said and handed me the key. “Just a few minutes.”

I winked and patted her hand. “You’re an angel.”

I quickly found the room and let myself in. I looked around, and the room was unremarkable. A small twin bed, dresser, and chair. No phone. I noticed as I looked in the small closet the empty hangers. Nothing. I opened the dresser drawers. Nothing. I didn’t know why, it just seemed like the thing to do, so I even looked under the bed.

Then the young woman came in. “The manager is on his way back,” she said urgently and I scooted out the door, handing her the key.

“Thanks anyway,” I said.

“Why don’t you ask the guy she was having dinner with?” the woman asked and I stopped as we walked down the hall.

“What guy?”

“He was staying in the room across the hall.”

We walked back to the desk and the young woman once again checked the register. “Yeah, here it is. N. Bennett,” she said triumphantly.

I looked at the name. He checked in the same day as Helen and checked out the next morning, as well.

“Did they arrive together?”

“No, I don’t think so. I mean, they were here on the same day, but I don’t think they arrived at the same time. I could be wrong, though.”

“Anything strange about him? I mean how he acted or what he asked for?”

She thought for a moment. “Yes, he paid by cash.”

“How can you remember he paid by cash?” 

“It’s rare to see that. You know, no credit card. And I had to get change for him.”

“What did he look like?”

The young woman rolled her eyes and smiled. “A hunk. Dark, Italian-looking, and too young for that woman, that’s for sure. Probably in his mid-thirties.”

“Where did they have dinner?” I asked, trying to piece something, anything together.

“Here in the dining room,” she said and looked around. She called a teenager over. She was about sixteen and popping her gum with annoying precision.

“Sally, remember the other night, that cute Italian guy with that old woman?”

Sally, the gum-popping waitress, grinned and nodded. “What a waste.”

I looked back and forth at them and interrupted. “Did they seem married?” I offered and they chuckled.

“No, not really. They argued toward the end of dinner. He spilled his coffee all over,” Sally said and was lost in thought. “Hey. She left me a lousy tip.”

I rubbed my forehead as the two babbled on. “Can you remember what they argued about?”

Sally thought, then shook her head. “No. It was busy in here that night. I really only remember him being cute and she leaving me a rotten tip. He did storm out of here, though.”

As I walked back to the station, I was deep in thought and nearly ran into Maggie.

“There you are,” she said. “Find out anything? Simon is nearly ready to go.”

“A little. I found out that some young guy was here with Helen the night before she went to Simon’s. An Italian, good-looking guy if you believe Sally the waitress. They argued at dinner, she remembered that.”

“So Helen was here with some guy the night before she arrived at Simon’s. Why?” Maggie asked as we walked down the sidewalk. “What was she doing in town?”

“Maybe he was on his way somewhere and they met for dinner,” I offered with a shrug.

I could tell by the look on her face she didn’t believe that, either.

“I was thinking of what Rebecca and Helen argued over,” I said as it popped into my head. “Something about it being in Simon’s room.” I wracked my brain trying to remember what I saw when the sheriff was searching his room. Nothing seemed too important to threaten Simon or Rebecca with.

“Okay, what else do we have? Bob. He was fired from some courier position. He transported artifacts. His reaction to searching Simon’s room was most curious.” I stopped and looked at Maggie, who was wide-eyed.

“There really is something in Simon’s room,” we said at the same time.

“And I’ll bet Bob knows what it is.” I grabbed Maggie’s hand. We quickly walked back to the police station.

As we walked in, Simon was putting his wallet and keys in his pocket. Audrey slid a piece of paper over to him. Simon bowed slightly and scribbled his signature. “I believe I had over a thousand dollars in my pocket,” he quipped and Audrey grinned as she took the paper.

“A donation to the fire department,” she joked along and Simon chuckled.

I noticed Adam was all business as he talked with Malcolm. Then he turned to Simon. “Mr. Merriweather, you might think this is all fun and games, but somebody killed your cousin and bashed my deputy’s head in. I’m not at all convinced it’s not you. So I’m telling you to stay put at the inn. Don’t leave. Don’t come into town, and get that smirk off your face. Try to remember you’re a murder suspect,” he said gravely.

Simon stared sadly at him for a moment and a faint smile crossed his lips. “As you wish, Inspector,” he said seriously.

Adam sat down tiredly. “Okay, beat it,” he said as he rubbed his eyes.

Jack offered to drive Simon and his lawyer back to the inn. I lagged behind with Maggie to talk to Adam.

“Okay... What did you find out?” he asked as Audrey put a cup of coffee in front of him. Maggie and I declined the offer from Audrey, who sat and settled in for the news.

“From what Sally and the young woman from the motel said, Helen had a gentleman caller who arrived the same day, but not at the same time. They had dinner and an argument. The good-looking Italian guy left in a huff. Sally remembers that. Oh, and he paid his motel bill with cash.” I stopped and glanced at Maggie. “And she let me in the room Helen stayed in. I found nothing out of the ordinary, but you may want to check it out, as well.”

Adam nodded but said nothing. I finished and sat back, exchanging glances with Maggie. I could tell Adam was mulling over my conversation with the girls at the motel. I hoped he was trying to find some common denominator.

I saw Audrey shift uncomfortably in her chair; she looked confused.

“Something odd?” I asked.

Audrey shook her head. “I don’t know why I remember that guy out of all the people we have roaming around here.”

Adam said nothing as Maggie and I just let her ramble as she tried to remember. She then snapped her fingers and grinned wildly. “Bingo.”

“Great! What is it?” Adam asked excitedly.

“No. Bingo. He was at bingo that night and won two hundred dollars,” she said happily.

Adam sighed and said nothing.

“Was he alone?” I asked. “You’ve never seen him before?”

“Nope, never. Figured he was a tourist. I think he was with a woman, but she was young...”

“What woman?” I asked. Audrey shook her head.

“Never saw her before, either. Figured they were together.”

Maggie and I looked at each other. “What did she look like?” I asked and sat forward.

“Hmm. Average, I guess. Maybe on the taller side. Short hair, reddish I think. I can’t be sure.”

I felt Adam watching Maggie and me. “Something you want to share?”

Maggie shrugged in a “why not” gesture.

How in the world am I going to explain this?

“Have you found anything on Hester Worsley?” I asked.

Adam reached for the file that Audrey extended to him. “Good timing, Miss Ryan. We got this just this afternoon. Seems your Hester Worsley can’t be located. There is no one by that name in Atlanta or anywhere else in Georgia. Of course, we don’t have much information on her. No identification of any kind. So,” he said and closed the file. “Tell me what you’re thinking about her.”

“Okay,” I said and stopped.

Adam continued to watch me, which made me self-conscious for some odd reason. Probably because this explanation was going to sound odd indeed.

“I’m waiting,” Adam said and drank his coffee.

Maggie gave my knee a reassuring pat. “Okay,” I said again. “Last summer, I was at my cabin with Maggie, and well, it’s not important. Anyway, there was a problem. Um, well, there was a murder.” I stopped and cleared my throat.

Maggie just stared straight ahead. Adam’s gaze darted back and forth between us. Audrey sat forward.

“A murder?” Adam asked.

“Yes, but that’s not important. I mean, it’s important but not…” I stopped to regroup. “Okay, someone left a book of poetry by Oscar Wilde at my back door when it was all over with. There was a white bookmark left at a certain passage. And now I find the same book in my room at Simon’s and the white bookmark is in the same place.”

“The same book or a copy of the book?”

“A copy. I have mine back home,” I said.

“I remember the discussion with Rose on Hester Worsley. The name was a character in one of this guy’s plays. Correct?”

I grinned. “Yes.”

“Was the book marked at this play?”

I sat back in defeat. “No. It’s a poem.”

Adam ran his hand over his face in what I knew had to be purely out of frustration. “Does the poem have any significance to you and Hester Worsley?”

Now I ran my hand over my face. “I don’t know. It’s driving me nuts.”

Maggie gently interjected, “We think it’s too much of a coincidence to have two of the same books marked at the same passage of the poem. And with Hester having the same name as a character in one of his plays, and she was here before Helen was murdered. Now you can’t seem to find her…”

Her voice trailed off as she glanced at me. This was all too convoluted.

Adam Sinclair now looked like my hospital psychiatrist. I could feel the straight jacket being pulled tighter. “And do you think Hester Worsley is the woman who plays bingo, of all things, with the good-looking Italian guy, who incidentally was here with Helen Caruthers, who was subsequently murdered? Is that what you think?”

I stared blankly at him. “I have no idea.”

Adam set his coffee mug down, a little too calmly for me. He then stretched his neck back and forth. Maggie and I winced when the vertebrae popped.

“He fights with Helen, then goes to bingo?” Adam asked and shook the cobwebs out.

“No, bingo was in the afternoon around one o’clock at the hall,” Audrey said.

“This guy knows Helen,” I said, trying to replay the scenario in my head. “He was here before her and gets her a room across from his. He waits around and plays bingo with some young woman, Hester Worsley or not. He checks out the town, and when Helen arrives, they go to dinner and argue. The next day, Helen is dead and no one sees this guy again.” I stared out the window. “Where did he come from?”

“Sheriff,” Maggie said and cleared her throat before continuing. “Kate overheard Rebecca.” She looked at me to continue.

“Right. I overheard Rebecca threaten Helen. It appeared that Helen wanted Rebecca’s help. She said, ‘It’s in his room.’ Now I find out that Bob was fired from a courier company. His job was to transport artifacts from one place to another. He doesn’t tell his wife. Out of all the places he could have taken his wife, he chooses an inn that’s not even in the travel book yet.” I stopped and turned to Adam and Audrey.

Adam looked disturbed. “When and how did you find this out?”

Busted. “I phoned my editor. She looked into it and found the information.”

“Which you neglected to tell me.” He didn’t wait for any explanation from me. “Well, he was so insistent that we check out Simon’s room.”

“At dinner, he said, ‘Simon knows.’ Knows what?”

Adam ran his hand over his eyes. “I have no stinking idea!” he exclaimed tiredly.

I leaned forward in my chair. “Adam. There is something in Simon’s room. Something that Bob wants. Something that Helen wanted. Something important enough to get her stabbed and tossed off her balcony.”

“I can get another search warrant, but it’ll take time. I have to pick up Roger Caruthers at the airport in one hour. Damn it!” he said and leaned back in his chair.

“Can you give me just a little time? Someone give Maggie and me a lift back to the inn. I’ll try something….”

Adam gave me a wary glance. “You’ve withheld information. You have some odd connection with this, Kate. I don’t know why I should trust you.” He took a long deep breath, letting it out slowly. “But I am. I’m trusting you. Trusting you not to be the murderer.”

“Good because she’s not,” Maggie said evenly.

“Adam, you get to the airport and I’ll get back to the inn,” I said impatiently.

Audrey tossed me the keys to her car. I plucked them out of the air and dashed out of the office with Maggie right behind me.

We raced back to the inn and ran up the steps. I hoped Simon was not back from the police station yet. I did not see any cars and no one was around. The girls must have been in their rooms. I heard Rose in the kitchen.

Quickly, we walked down the hall. Simon’s room was not locked as I thought it would be. We crept in and looked around; I took a quick inventory. A grand piano. The fertility god. I picked it up. There was nothing odd about it. I placed it back on the mantel.

“What are we looking for?” Maggie whispered.

“I don’t know. Something expensive, I guess. Something to kill for.”

“It could be anything.” Maggie ran her fingers through her long hair.

I looked at the green statue again and looked at the picture on the wall. Nothing seemed odd; nothing caught my eye. “Damn it, Maggie, something is staring me right in the face.”

I went back and picked up the green object. There were no markings. I shook it. It was solid. “I have no clue what I’m looking for,” I said angrily.

Then we heard voices. “Shit,” I exclaimed. Bumping into each other, we slipped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind us. We walked in a controlled panic down the hall and into the living room.

I was breathless as I dumped myself into the nearest chair. Maggie sat next to me on the couch, picked up a book, and started reading. I chuckled as I reached over and turned the book around for her.

“A couple of fine detectives we are,” I said and sat back. “Oh, Helen, who killed you? What did you do to piss someone off so badly?”

Chapter 22

When we heard the car door slam, I walked over to the curtains and peered through. Jack and Simon were talking by the car. I could barely hear them.

“Thank you for the lift, Jack,” Simon said. “Now come in and stay for dinner,” he said. I saw Jack’s thoughtful pose, remembering what he said about their first meeting.

“Thank you, I think I will,” Jack said.

I saw Simon’s stunned look as if he didn’t think Jack would accept.

Malcolm got out of the car and laughed. “Dr. Stockton, you’ve done what no one else has ever been able to do. He’s speechless. I like you, young man.” He patted him on the back as they walked into the house.

“C’mon, I understand Rose makes a wicked martini,” Jack said over his shoulder and opened the door. He stepped back and beckoned the confused Simon.

“Touché. Sarcasm suits you, Doctor. It shows irreverence. I like that,” he said, smiling as he walked by. Jack let out a hearty laugh. I quickly stepped away from the window when they opened the door.

Simon looked up to see Maggie and me. “Miss Marple! You are just in time for a cocktail,” Simon exclaimed and rubbed his hands together.

As if called by some silent alarm at the top of the stairs, three bedroom doors opened; the girls rushed down to meet Simon at the door and ushered him into the living room. Rose had a martini already prepared and handed it to him. He smiled affectionately at all of them.

“I must be arrested more often,” he said lightly. Rebecca glared and slapped his knee.

“Now tell all,” Emily said and settled in. Rose brought over a tray of martinis and handed them out.

I noticed Jack smiling as he sat by the fire and watched. “They love him,” Maggie said while shaking her head.

“I envy Simon for such close friends,” Jack said pensively.

Maggie and I exchanged glances. “Don’t tell me you don’t have any friends, Jack.” I sipped the martini and shivered. It tasted like kerosene. I looked at Maggie, who was happily sipping away and eating an olive.

“No, no. I do, but being the only child in a loveless family, I ached for someone to love me like these women loved Simon. It’s nice to see,” Jack said.

He watched him, and every now and then, Simon would glance his way. They would trade smiles and I honestly thought I saw Jack’s heart nearly leap out of his chest when their eyes met. “He’s a good man,” he said almost inaudibly.

Maggie smiled and sipped her martini. “Who needs a good man,” she gently prodded.

Jack blushed to his roots and took a long drink. He grinned reluctantly and took Maggie’s empty glass.

I handed him my full glass and looked at Maggie. “How can you drink that stuff?” I asked seriously.

Maggie raised an elegantly arched eyebrow. “I know it’s not beer in a bottle, but it’ll do,” she said sarcastically.

Jack came back with two martinis and handed one to Maggie. “Simon is holding court,” he said and motioned to them.

“I tell you, ladies, it was horrid. There I was in a dark, damp cell. Feeling like the Count of Monte Cristo,” he said with exaggerated flourish.

Kit gasped and put a hand to her mouth. Emily just stared wide-eyed drinking her martini. Rebecca gave him a look of reproach to which Simon chuckled and shrugged.

“Yes, but you sing like his mother,” Jack offered in a flat voice that made Rebecca laugh out loud. Simon glared at him, then turned back to the ladies.

“Don’t pay any attention to the good doctor. Now where was I?” he asked as he sipped his martini.

Kit leaned in. “You were deep in a dark, cold cell,” she reminded him.

“Thank you, my love, for listening,” he said and chucked her under the chin. He cleared his throat and continued. He stopped when he heard a shriek of laughter that had to be Linda Thomas. “Somebody’s going to be a little late for dinner. My money was on Kate and the adorable Maggie.”

My eyes bugged out of my head as I glared at Simon. Maggie laughed heartily.

“Rose, I suggest we have dinner later tonight,” Rebecca said wickedly.

“I am in need of another cocktail,” Simon announced as he twirled his empty glass.

When the doorbell rang, he answered it. “Roger,” we heard him say in a sad voice.

“I bet he really needs a cocktail now,” I whispered in Maggie’s ear.

Adam was standing behind the taller older man as Simon stepped back, allowing both men to walk into the foyer.

“Simon, this is horrible. How could this have happened?” Roger asked. Simon looked at his cousin with sadness. Tears sprang into his eyes as he shook his head.

Roger Caruthers was tall, lean, and slightly balding. His piercing blue watery eyes narrowed at Simon. There was no love lost here, I thought as they walked into the living room.

All three women looked up. After an awkward moment of sympathetic comments and light kisses, Roger sat on the couch. “Can someone tell me how this could have happened? And why?”

“Mr. Caruthers,” Adam started. “I know this must be a tragic loss. I know when things are settled here, you’ll want to take your sister back to Newport. Please let me handle this. I will find out who killed your sister.”

Roger tiredly rubbed his face and sat back. “As you wish, Sheriff.”

Adam made a quick awkward exit.

With everyone seated, we waited patiently for dinner. Our patience paid off. It was a seafood bounty. Crab legs, lobster, and shrimp. Rose sported a happy grin as she brought out platter after platter.

“I can’t eat another bite,” Linda exclaimed as she took another bite. Bob chuckled along with her and I noticed a more amiable feeling between them.

I was hesitant to bring Helen into the conversation and was grateful when Emily offered.

“This is all wonderful, but we still have a murderer out there. I’m sorry, Roger,” she said and sipped her wine.

“Thank you, Emily, but I agree. Someone killed Helen. I still cannot believe she’s dead,” he said.

There was an agonizing silence around the table.

Simon sighed heavily. “It is a bit…” he struggled for the appropriate word.

“Disturbing,” Jack interjected as he stared at his wineglass.

“Did you find anything more?” I asked Jack as I concentrated on my dinner companions.

“Not much. Helen was stabbed once and pushed off the balcony,” Jack said and sipped his wine.

“Someone wanted her dead!” Roger said angrily and tossed down his napkin. “The sheriff seems to think one of you had something to do with it. He mentioned I might want to stay at the motel in town. I told him I would rather be here. If none of you had anything to do with Helen’s death, then who did?”

He looked around the table and stopped at Rebecca. “Rebecca, you and Helen never got along.”

“That is quite enough, Roger,” Simon said firmly. “This is a ghastly thing, we all know that. It is a tragedy to be sure. However, no one at this table killed Helen.”

Bob snorted and gulped his wine. Roger raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Rebecca looked sad and pensive; her silence was glaring.

My phone went off; I excused myself and walked into the living room. It was Adam.

“Okay. I checked out the phone number from Helen’s phone. I went over to the motel and bingo—there’s the name on the registry, the same night Helen was murdered. You sit tight. I have a few more things to check out. I’ll be over in the morning,” he said, then gave me the last name—Dorsey.

“Who is this now?” I asked after I hung up. “Maybe it’s the woman Audrey saw this Bennett guy with. Crap.”

I had no idea who it was, but I was going to find out.

I started for the dining room, then thought better of it. With everyone there, I had a chance to slip into Simon’s room. I walked over to the picture; I hadn’t been able to check it when Maggie and I were in here earlier. I carefully took the oil painting off the wall. I examined it, but nothing seemed unusual. As I turned it over, I looked at the back and something didn’t seem right.

For some reason, Maggie flashed into my mind. Where were we two weeks ago? At an art fair on her beloved Michigan Avenue. I grimaced as I remembered how Maggie dragged me along. Dr. Winfield felt like spending money, so we walked the streets on the downtown of Chicago on a blustery day. Maggie had stopped to pick up an oil painting.

“What are you doing?”

I whirled around, nearly dropping the painting. Maggie dashed in and quietly shut the door.

“Remember that stup, er, art fair we went to?” I asked.

Maggie glared at me. “Yes, and it wasn’t stupid.”

“Sorry. Remember what you said about the backing of the canvas?”

“Yes.” Maggie took the painting from me and examined it. “There was a way to tell if it was a true oil painting. If this were a true oil painting, there’d be no backing. Just the canvas and a frame.”

“What do you see?” I asked with a grin.

Maggie looked at the back; her head shot up and I nodded and looked at the back of the painting. Here was some sort of light cardboard tacked to the back. I held it up to the light on Simon’s piano. There was definitely something behind this painting. Very gingerly, I took a letter opener and pried the tacks loose, easily slipping off the cardboard backing.

“Hurry up, Kate,” Maggie whispered urgently, which did nothing for my shaking hands.

“Oh, crap,” I said. My heart raced and the hair on the back of my neck bristled. I sucked in my breath and let out a deep sigh. “I think I’m about to find out why Helen was murdered,” I whispered. I was amazed as several papers fell out of the backing and into my hands. “I’ll be damned…”

“What is that?” Maggie asked.

I shook my head. “We don’t have time, but I have an idea.” I took the papers and folded them, tucking them inside my shirt. Then very carefully, I tacked the cardboard back in place, hanging it back just as it was.

Maggie and I ran to our room, looking for a hiding place. “Stand by the door, Maggie. Let me know if anyone comes up here.”

“Are you going to tell me what you found?” Maggie asked from her lookout post.

I found the place to hide them and tucked them away. “Later.”

We quickly walked back down to the dining room. What we heard was Roger yelling, accusing Simon and the girls. Once again, Bob was accusing Simon, and Linda was near tears.

“Where have you been?” Bob asked me angrily.

“Sit down, Bob,” I said calmly. Maggie gave me a worried look.

Roger stood and angrily threw down his napkin. “Simon, do you have a room for me? I’m sick of this. If not, I’ll have someone drive me back to town.”

Simon took a deep sad breath. “I don’t have an extra room, but my sitting room is quite comfortable, cousin. Come with me.”

Without a word, Roger stormed out of the dining room.

“Well, I’ve had it. I’m going to bed,” Bob said. Linda gave everyone an apologetic look and followed him out, as well.

“Okay, who’s next?” I looked right at Rebecca. Simon walked back in and sat at the head of the table, pouring himself another glass of wine.

“I am deathly tired of this,” Simon said and Jack reached over and touched his arm affectionately.

“Rebecca,” I started. “You argued with Helen that night. You said ‘I’ll see you dead first.’ I overheard it. Helen said ‘it’ was in his room. It’s time you told us what happened. Simon’s life depends on it now.”

Suddenly, Rebecca looked old and tired. She took a deep breath and Emily put a protective arm around her.

“Becky. Tell me,” Simon begged.

“She told me to talk to you about some picture. I had no idea what she was talking about. She said she would make life miserable for you.”

Simon chuckled. “She already did that my whole life, dear heart,” he said and Jack chuckled. Rebecca smiled slightly.

“The picture in Simon’s room?” I asked and Simon stiffened. Jack noticed the change in him and gave me a worried look.

“I have no idea where it is. She mentioned the picture and how Doug stole it and she’d expose both of them for thieves if I didn’t tell Simon to give her the picture.”

“Good God, Becky. Douglas would never steal it. Why would he?” Simon was vehement. “Douglas was not a thief.”

I kept quiet, trying to piece this together. Something wasn’t right. “How did Helen know about this picture?” Maggie asked.

“I don’t know. I just know that she threatened Simon with prison,” Rebecca said.

Emily shook her head. “What a miserable woman.”

“Like the one on the stairs?” Kit asked absently as she ate her cheesecake.

All eyes were on the little woman who looked up with wide eyes.

“Kit. Think, dear. You really saw a woman that night?” I asked kindly.

There was an agonizing pause; no one wanted to say a word. Please, dear God, I thought, don’t let her say anything about skinny-dipping in the Narragansett.

“Yes, I told that nice policeman. She was running down the stairs.”

Emily was about to say something and Maggie put a hand on her arm to quiet her. “Can you remember what she looked like, Kit?”

She cocked her head. “Skinny,” she said happily and continued with her dessert.

Again, Maggie and I looked at each other. Hester Worsley could fit that description. Everyone sat back and took a deep breath. I remembered then what Audrey had said about the woman with this Italian-looking man. I watched Rose, who was smiling at Kit.

“Rose, the man you saw in the window the other night. You said he looked familiar somehow,” I asked, willing her to remember something—anything.

Rose thought for a moment, then she turned white. “Oh, dear Lord,” she said and put her hand to her brow. Now all eyes were on Rose. “Your limo driver.”

“Nicholas?” Rebecca asked; the incredulous tone was unmistakable.

Emily gasped. “That young man who drove us here?”

“With the nasty cigar?” Kit chimed in.

“Rose, please. This is so important. Are you sure?” I asked. Rose swallowed convulsively and only nodded.

“What does it mean, Kate?” Jack asked as he leaned in.

I scratched my forehead and looked down at Simon, who was staring at his wineglass. He looked up with tears in his eyes but said nothing.

“I’m not sure,” I said, watching Simon, who smiled sadly. I knew his mind must be on Doug. And I hated to think of what was to come of this. “But I will find out.”

Everyone retired early that evening. I eagerly pulled Maggie up the stairs. I wanted to take a close look at what we had found. When I closed the door, Maggie had a flushed look on her face. All of the sudden, I had one hundred ten pounds of aroused doctor in my arms, kissing me like I’d never been kissed before.

“God, Kate. I agree. I nearly flew up the stairs,” she said and kissed me again.

It’s not that I didn’t want this. God knows my hair ached at the thought of making love to this woman. I knew I was going to kick myself for my next action.

I peeled the aroused doctor off and held her at arm’s length. We were breathing like bulls. “M-Maggie. I wanted to examine what we found behind that painting in Simon’s room. That’s, well, that’s why I…”

Maggie blinked several times as if trying to register what I had just said. She blushed to her roots. “Oh!” she said and backed away while running her fingers through her hair.

“Hey, come back here.” I pulled her back in my arms. “We’ll continue this later. But let’s wait until there’s no murderer running loose.” I kissed her tenderly and felt her body tremble against mine. Maybe I was doing the trembling, I don’t know.

“Okay, start talking or I won’t be responsible for what happens.” She sat on the bed and waited while I took the papers out of my backpack. “What are they?” she asked as I handed them to her.

“Some kind of bonds, I guess.” I sat next to her.

Maggie gave me an incredulous look. “What in the world? How much do you think is here?”

“I don’t know. But I’m glad you dragged me, er, took me to the art fair. Your highbrow-ness rubbed off on me. Soon, I’ll be a snob, too.”

Maggie’s eye bugged out of her head. “You think I’m a snob?”

I must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “No.” I said that far too quickly.

“Look, just because I don’t swill beer and eat chili dogs—”

“I don’t swill beer.”

“Oh, shut up. What are you going to do with them?”

I took them from her and leafed through the official-looking papers. “I don’t know yet, but I think I’d better keep them safe where no one will ever find them. Let’s put them with your wardrobe you brought along. A person would give up long before they had enough time to go through all the clothes you…”

“Very funny. You love to annoy me, don’t you?”

“Yes.” I looked around the room and decided to slip them between a couple of books on the shelf. “Tomorrow, I’ll get with Adam and hand these over to him. Let him figure out the rest.”

“Kate, you know he needs your help. You can’t just drop them in his lap. Besides, you told those nice ladies you would find out who killed Helen.”

“Wasn’t that the name of a movie?” I asked through my yawns. I slipped out of my jeans and into my comfy sweats. “Who Killed Helen?”

Maggie changed into her adorable silky PJs and pulled back the covers. “No. What’s The Matter With Helen. That was the movie.”

We stopped and stared at each other, each on our own side of the bed. I was amazed. “Did you just top me on naming an old movie?”

Maggie started the contagious laughter as she slipped into bed. I joined her as she cuddled close. “I guess we’re both rubbing off on each other.”

She reached up and turned off the light. I felt her warm lips on my neck. “And I can top you here, as well, Miss Ryan.”

That was a given.

Chapter 23

The next day was quite subdued. We were informed that Roger had made the arrangements to have the service later in the day in Seaview, then to take Helen’s body back to Newport the next day. I thought this was odd, but nothing in the past week seemed normal anyway. I had spoken to Adam, who agreed to discuss my findings after the service.

Maggie and I sat in the back of the tiny chapel as the preacher said very nice words about a woman he didn’t even know. That’s gotta be a God-given talent.

Adam and Jack were seated next to us, with the others in front. Adam leaned across Jack. “After this is over,” he whispered. “At the station.”

I nodded and leaned over Maggie. “Okay,” I whispered. “You’re not going to believe—” I winced when I felt Maggie’s nails digging in my forearm. Maggie gave me a motherly scowl and put her fingers to her lips. Adam nodded and sat back.

I noticed how sadly Jack watched Simon. I was sure he hoped Simon was not the murderer. I looked up at the front of the chapel to see Simon glance at Rebecca. He was probably thinking the same thing about Rebecca.

Roger’s face could have been etched in stone. He stared at the casket, not blinking, not moving. What an odd family they were.

Linda and Bob were sitting right in front of us, away from the family, as well. Linda leaned into Bob. “What a screwed-up getaway this was,” she whispered and I had to agree with the poor woman. It was indeed screwed up.

 Bob said nothing. I was sure he was staring a hole through Simon.

We heard poor Kit whisper, as she motioned to the preacher, “Is that John Fahey?”

I glanced at Maggie, who would not look at me. And then the unthinkable happened. I was reduced to an eight-year-old. I started quietly laughing. Oh, God, please don’t do this, I begged. Maggie’s eyes widened as she stared straight ahead, completely avoiding me. My shoulders shook as I desperately held my laughter in. It was so juvenile, for godsakes, I’m an adult. I saw her lips twitch and I tried so hard not to laugh. I pinched my nose in the effort and nearly blew out my eardrums. I had a vision of my mother pinching me when, as kids, Teri and I used to do this in church. When I felt Maggie’s nails once again, my mother was resurrected, and I immediately stopped laughing. 

With the service over, we stopped at the local restaurant—one must be fed when one grieves. After an hour or so of excruciating silence, I leaned over to Maggie. “Would you mind if we left? I want to talk to Adam and I don’t want to leave you alone,” I whispered in her ear. She nodded emphatically.

“What are you doing?” Maggie asked as we walked to the police station.

“Planning to catch a murderer,” I said and opened the door.

“Okay, what did you find?” Adam asked. I told him what I had found in the painting. “You’re kidding! Then it is Simon. He killed Helen,” Adam said.

I rubbed my forehead. “Adam, why kill her?”

He sat back and thought for a moment. “Because she blackmailed him.”

“Simon Merriweather is extremely wealthy. Why not pay her off and be done with it?” I argued gently. “Adam, we don’t know why those bonds were in the picture or who wanted them or how they got there. We need to know. Now I have an idea and I think it will work.”

Maggie grinned and winked at me as she sat forward. My ego soared like a dope. Adam was not so eager to feed my ego.

I leaned forward. “1934, the movie The Thin Man. It’s the first in the Thin Man movies. Nick and Nora Charles are newlyweds, well, that’s not important. Dashiell Hammett wrote the novel,” I said eagerly. “Nick exposes the murderer at a dinner party. Did you ever see it?”

Sheriff Sinclair blinked. “No.”

“Really?” I waved him off. “Not important. I’ll take care of it. Now I don’t have time. I want to get back to the house before them. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

He looked at Maggie for corroboration. I was slightly indignant.

“She does, Sheriff,” Maggie said with a smug grin. “Just don’t let her around any electric appliances or…”

“Okay, he gets the idea.” I hauled the doctor out of her chair. “Just wait for my call.”

I must remember to thank Audrey for allowing us to commandeer her SUV. Maggie and I raced back to the inn before the others, who were still at the luncheon. I ran to Simon’s room and took the picture off the wall and headed for the dining room. Maggie had already set the long table and I was pleased with her perceptiveness. I stood there smiling as she counted the number of chairs. She looked up and grinned.

“What? Isn’t this what you wanted? I saw The Thin Man a hundred times,” she said and I heard the exhilaration in her voice.

I propped the picture up on an extra chair next to mine. “It’s exactly what I wanted. We, uh, we’re a good team, I think,” I said with a shrug.

Maggie walked up to me and placed her hand on my cheek. “Yes, we are. Now what’s next?”

I took a deep breath and ran my fingers through my hair. “We wait.” I uncorked a bottle of red and poured two glasses. Maggie raised hers.

“To catching a murderer,” she said and touched my glass with hers.

As we sat, we heard the front door open. The group walked in to find Maggie and me sitting in the dining room, sipping a glass of wine.

“C’mon in and have a seat,” I invited as everyone obediently and slowly walked in. It struck me very funny that they all sat in the same places as they had the night before.

“Well, here we are once again,” Simon said. I half expected Rebecca and Simon’s expression when they saw the picture.

Simon gave me an odd look. “Did you go into my boudoir?”

I merely nodded as he sat. I did not expect Bob’s reaction…

He pointed at the picture and started stammering. His face was red and his eyes bugged. He was about to blow.

“Sit down, Bob,” I said evenly.

Linda looked completely confused as she took hold of her husband’s arm and yanked him firmly in the chair.

“Are we all here?” I asked and looked at Rose. “Anyone want something to drink?”

Simon’s hand immediately shot into the air. Jack shook his head but raised his hand, as well. Rose came back with the wine and poured each a glass, then sat down.

After an agonizing moment, Roger started the conversation. “I assume we’re all here for a reason.”

I nodded and sipped my wine. “We have a tiny predicament here. Someone killed Helen Caruthers. Now let’s go around the table, shall we? We’ll start with Kit.”

“Miss Peacock,” Simon chimed in and raised his glass. Kit giggled.

“My apologies,” I said and patted Kit’s hand. “On the night of the murder, Kit sees a woman running down the stairs. No one believes her, but she is steadfast in her claim.”

“I am,” Kit said proudly and sipped her wine. Emily grinned and held her hand.

“Now, Emily,” I said. “I can see there is no love lost. You, like the others, made threatening remarks to Helen.”

“It’s true,” Emily said defiantly.

I nodded and looked at Rebecca. “Rebecca. You seem to know more about this than anyone. It appears that Helen wanted you to get Simon to give up this picture for whatever reason, we have not determined. However, it was important enough for her to threaten Simon with prison, something that you could never let happen to Simon. So you threaten her. Rebecca, I see something in your eyes, as does Simon, I’m sure. There is still something you know and you are not willing to speak about, but I will get back to that.”

Rebecca said nothing but looked at her wineglass. Emily frowned in confusion but placed her hand over her old friend’s in a show of support.

Now my attention turned to the Thomas couple.

Linda raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Sorry, Kate, we’re truly here on vacation,” she said and looked at Bob, who was white and sweating. “We are, aren’t we?” she asked him firmly.

Bob swallowed and stretched his neck uncomfortably.

“Bob, now’s the time,” I said and drank my wine.

He said nothing and I knew I had to play the only card I had. “Bob, I had a friend do some checking. I found out about your previous job,” I said and was cut off by his angry words.

“And you’re only here to take photos?” he accused.

“I will admit to my previous profession. Don’t be evasive, Bob, why are you here?” I asked angrily and watched him.

Maggie gently placed a warning hand on my knee.

He picked up his wineglass with a shaky hand. I watched and waited.

“Either you’re telling the truth or you work for them,” he said frankly.

“Work for whom?” I countered impatiently.

“Amalgamated,” he said and continued to look into my eyes.

I raised an eyebrow, then chuckled. “Bob, I do not work for your previous employer. Why did you leave?”

“What do you know?” he asked frankly.

I explained what I knew. As Bob listened, he watched me. All eyes were riveted to him. When I finished, I could tell he didn’t know if he believed me or not. I returned his frank look and he took a deep breath.

“I was employed by Amalgamated for quite a while. I was a courier, transporting whatever the assignment was to its destination. My last job went horribly wrong. I was to take an oil painting to London. Townsend and several other antique dealers were to be at this auction,” he started to explain.

“Douglas Townsend?” I asked.

Emily gasped and Kit let out a small cry. Rebecca was silent. Simon was shocked and Jack had a death grip on his forearm.

Bob nodded and he continued. “On the way to our London office, I was stopped by an apparent car accident. While I waited for the car to be moved, I was hauled out of my car and knocked out. When I came to, I was laying on the side of the road. My car was still there, but the painting was gone.” He stopped and took a long breath.

Instinctively, I knew he hadn’t talked about this before. He almost sounded relieved.

“I was questioned for three days. The picture was never found and I was summarily discharged, as the English put it. They have an uncanny way of making you feel like shit and sounding nice,” he said and chuckled. I smiled but said nothing.

“My reputation was destroyed and I made it my mission to find out what happened to the picture,” he said angrily. “The damn thing isn’t really that expensive. I don’t know why…” He stopped and ran his fingers through his hair and glanced at the painting.

My mind raced through all the happenings of the past few days. Then I looked at Bob. “So let me get this straight. You were fired because you lost this painting. How did you figure it was Douglas Townsend who had it?”

“I spent the next six months watching the other dealers. There was nothing. I questioned all of them. I don’t know. I just had a feeling that it was Townsend who took the painting.”

“So when you found out about Doug and Simon, you came up here to see if Simon had the painting?” I asked.

Bob winced and nodded, avoiding his wife’s dumbfounded look. “They fired me. I thought I could find the painting, get it back, and get my job back.”

“Bob, you were in Helen’s room the night of the murder, correct?” I saw the telltale signs again appear on his brow. The beads of perspiration broke out.

“How did you know?” he asked stupidly.

“Because, at dinner the other night, you mentioned I saw someone by the closet door. I never said that. I had no idea you were standing by the closet.”

Bob groaned and buried his head in his hands.

“Bob, did you touch anything before you knocked Kate out of your way?” Maggie asked.

“Good question. Please have a good answer,” I begged as I rubbed my neck.

He thought for a moment. “No, I didn’t have time. I heard you and hid by the closet.”

Linda’s expression went from confused to hurt, back to confused. Then it settled on angry. “Do you mean to tell me you were in that room and you knocked Kate out? You could have killed her. Why didn’t you tell the sheriff, Bob? And better yet, why didn’t you tell me? Damn it, if you’d have told me to begin with, I could have helped you find the painting. Bob, you idiot, we’re married. You know, as in partners?” she said angrily.

I completely avoided Maggie’s superior grin.

“I know, I know, I’ve bungled everything. Now they’re gonna think I stabbed that old woman and tossed her off the balcony,” he said helplessly.

No one said a word.

I took a deep breath and looked at Linda, who was near tears. “Linda, when you and I were in the woods the other morning, you thought you saw someone, didn’t you?”

Linda turned red, then white as she glanced at her husband. “Yes.”

“You thought it was Bob, correct?”

Bob shot her an incredulous look. “Me?”

“Yes, you were acting so strange. I saw a man and I thought it was you.”

“It was not me,” he insisted and I held up my hand.

“I don’t think it was. I think it was our friend Nicholas.”

“He killed Helen!” Emily said enthusiastically.

For the first time, Roger perked up. “Who is this Nick Bennett person?”

My heart raced, but I didn’t want to show my surprise. “We’ll get back to him,” I assured everyone and turned my attention back to Bob.

“So you’re here to get the picture back. And that’s all?” I asked. “You never met Helen Caruthers before?” Bob shook his head. “Ever met anyone who knew her?”

“No. No one. Well, there was that woman who was investigating,” he said simply.

I groaned quietly and rubbed my temple. “What woman, Bob?” I asked with equal simplicity.

“Some woman called and asked about the painting. All the questions I’d been asked before. She said she was from the insurance company. I told her what I knew.”

“Did you meet with her?” I asked.

“Well, yeah.”

“What did she look like?” Maggie asked. I heard the hopeful tone in her voice and shared it.

Bob shrugged. “Tall.”

“Redhead?” Maggie asked.

“I-I don’t think so, maybe. No, brownish I think,” he said.

I frantically tried to piece all of this together. I glanced at the oil painting in contemplation. “That’s it? You know nothing else?”

Bob nodded vehemently. “Yes, that’s it. Townsend stole the painting for whatever reason and all I want is to clear my name.”

Simon leaned forward. “No, he did not,” he said firmly.

“I’m sorry, Merriweather, but that’s what it looks like,” Bob said seriously and I grudgingly had to agree.

“Doug was not a thief!” Simon bellowed. “He did not steal that painting.”

“Yes, Simon,” Rebecca said in a sad voice. “Yes, he did.”

Emily and Kit gasped their surprise. All heads turned to see Rebecca, suddenly looking so old, as she put a hand to her eyes and wept.

After a moment of stunned silence, Simon spoke. “Becky, darling, what are you saying?” Simon implored desperately.

Roger snorted. “She’s saying your boyfriend stole the painting and—”

“And what, Roger?” Emily blurted out.

“And I don’t know!” he argued.

I took a deep patient breath and gently interrupted. “Becky, this is what you’ve been holding in. It’s time to let it out.”

“Becky, please tell them everything you know,” Simon begged.

Rebecca’s voice quivered as she spoke. “Doug told me he took the painting. He didn’t tell me why, but he said he couldn’t let you go to prison.” She sobbed and covered her face with her hands.

Simon sat back, completely confounded. “Go to prison? What on earth for?” Simon asked, then his face was void of any emotion and groaned. “Benjamin Davenport.” He placed his hand across his eyes. It was a gesture, I believe, to hide his pain and perhaps his shame, as well.

And now we have yet another name.

“Simon?” I prodded and looked down at him.

Simon slipped his arm out from under Jack’s hand. I took this as if to save Jack from any association. He gently patted the doctor’s hand.

“Fifteen years ago, I had a brief affair, very brief. Unfortunately, the young man in question was seventeen, not twenty-two as he told me. It was a stupid and selfish thing to do and it nearly destroyed Doug. We kept it quiet, well as quiet as we could. Helen unfortunately got wind of it.”

“You’re lying!” Roger spat out and leaned forward.

In a protective move, Jack leaned in. “Sit back, please, Mr. Caruthers,” he said in a low stern voice.

Rebecca was still crying and she put a napkin to her eyes as Emily put her arm around her sagging shoulders.

Everyone was silent. I looked at my watch. We had been sitting there for nearly two hours. It was ten thirty and everyone was exhausted.

“I think that’s enough for one night. Unfortunately, we’re no closer to finding out who killed Helen.”

“It’s obvious!” Roger said and looked from Rebecca to Simon. “You two were always against Helen, even as children.”

“That’s enough, Roger,” Emily said loudly and stood, helping Rebecca and Kit. “Kate is right. This is enough for one night.”

Everyone stood and Bob made a move toward the painting.

“Whoa, nothing doing, Bob,” I said and he glared at me.

“This is what I came for. I’m clearing my name.”

“Not until the sheriff gives the okay,” I said.

I took the painting into the living room and placed it above the mantel. “This is where it stays until Adam gets here in the morning. Now everyone to bed.”

Bob grumbled all the way up the stairs.

I watched as they all disappeared to their rooms. Maggie and I stood alone in the living room staring at the picture.

“Tonight.” I put my arm around Maggie’s shoulders as we walked out of the living room. “If it’s going to happen…it will happen tonight.”

Chapter 24

“Is this going to work?” Adam asked.

 I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked to the gods. “Yes. The murderer now knows we have the painting. If I’m right, they’ll try to come and get what they killed Helen for and blackmailed Douglas for. Where are you?”

Maggie stood there biting at her bottom lip. I could tell she was nervous.

“I just parked down the road. I’ll be there in two minutes. George knows when to call the state police. It’s fucking freezing out here,” he said.

I snapped my phone shut and looked at Maggie. “Will it work?” she asked.

“Yes, I think so. I’d ask you to stay in here and lock the door—”

“No.”

“But I know you won’t do that,” I finished evenly. “Just stay close by me.”

“That will not be hard to do,” she said as we slipped out of the bedroom.

In the darkness, I looked out the window and saw Adam running up to the porch. I opened the door, letting a rush of frigid air in with him.

“All set?” he whispered and looked at Maggie. He gave me a concerned look.

“We’re a package deal. Don’t even ask,” I whispered.

We hid in the far corner of the living room in the pitch darkness. Sitting there for what seemed like hours. We finally heard it. Footsteps down the hallway from the kitchen. I heard Adam swallow and hoped he wasn’t going to pass out. Maggie licked her lips. I took her hand and put her fingertips to my lips. She nodded. I swear I could hear our hearts pounding.

The noise came from the kitchen.

Rose… I saw the sad look that flashed across Adam’s face, hoping he was wrong, though at this point I didn’t care. I saw a figure walk through the living room, pass us, and walk up to the mantel. I could barely make out the figure in the darkness. Was it Hester Worsley? Whoever it was, he or she knew exactly where the picture was.

“Now...” I hissed and Adam flipped on the light by the desk.

A woman whirled around, painting in hand. Adam reached for his gun and got only his hip. I groaned helplessly. The woman grinned and pulled out her own handgun.

“No sudden movements. I don’t want to kill you, but I will,” she said evenly.

Who the hell was this? I thought. Visions of Hester were quickly dispelled.

“There’s no way you can get out of this,” Adam said confidently.

I’d feel better if he had his gun.

Just then, Simon, in a silk robe, came wandering into the room. Jack was right behind him in silk pajama bottoms. Both men were scratching their heads. When Simon looked up, he let out a cry that made even Adam jump. It was Maggie’s turn to groan helplessly.

“Susan!” he shrieked like a woman and put his hand to his heart. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“Simon, nice to see you again after so long,” she said and pointed the gun at all five of us. Simon took a protective step back.

“Sue... I-I don’t understand,” he exclaimed.

The woman was dressed in black and wore surgical gloves. “You never did, Simon,” she said evenly.

I felt bad for Simon, who stood there looking like an owl, with Jack behind him looking the same.

“Simon, I take it you know this woman?” Adam asked and Simon nodded vigorously.

“Yes, Susan—”

Then I knew. “Dorsey,” I finished for him and looked at Adam.

He nodded. “The woman from town.”

“Sue, you were our neighbor,” Simon said stupidly. “Weren’t you?”

I heard the ladies bounding down the stairs. “Oh, crap,” I exclaimed, never taking my eyes off Sue Dorsey.

“What is all the commotion?” Emily called out as they stood in the living room doorway in flannel robes.

Kit giggled when she looked at Jack, who turned crimson and shrugged sheepishly. She looked at Sue Dorsey. “It’s Miss Scarlet in the living room with a gun! I win!”

Simon pulled her to him. “Not right now, Kit, my love,” he whispered out of the corner of his mouth. With Jack’s help, he pushed Rebecca and Emily behind him.

“This is your woman on the stairs, right, Miss Peacock?” I asked as I watched Sue Dorsey.

“Yes!” Kit said triumphantly.

“Enough of this shit. Now let’s all calm down and stand still,” Susan said and pointed the gun at all of us.

The women gasped; so did the men. I tried to inch my way in front of them while keeping Maggie out of the line of fire. Adam slowly tried to do the same.

“Sue, what are you doing?” Simon asked as he held on to Kit.

“I’ll tell you, Simon,” I said evenly. “You see this is Susan Dorsey…Caruthers. Am I correct?”

Sue nodded as she glared at me. The gun in her hand shook slightly. “I’m not quite sure, but I think you were blackmailing Douglas and that’s how you got the picture out of England. He agreed to steal it, to save Simon from going to prison. A gay man in prison…” I didn’t need to finish the sentence. “So why kill Doug?”

Simon let out a gasp and glared at her. Sue chuckled. “That was not part of the plan. It was purely an accident. I just happened to be there at the right time.”

“How did you know Simon and Doug?” I asked.

“It was surprisingly easy. I rented an apartment near them and put on the small-town girl in the big city routine. It worked perfectly.” She looked at Simon. “Sorry, but it did.”

“So let me guess,” I said. “Douglas stole the painting, brought it to his antique store, but didn’t give it up right away. You didn’t know where it was, right?”

“Very clever. Who in the hell are you anyway? You really screwed up this plan. You had Helen all spooked, ready to give it up,” Sue said seriously, and she shifted the painting under her arm. “We didn’t know until the accident. Douglas told me to tell Simon about the picture. I, of course…”

“Told Roger and Helen instead,” I finished for her and Sue nodded.

From the hallway, Roger Caruthers’s tall frame loped into the living room. “Greetings,” he said and kissed Sue on the cheek. Sue smiled as she offered her cheek, never losing eye contact with me.

“How did you know I was involved?” Roger asked, intrigued.

“When we mentioned Nick. We never used his last name. No one knew it but Sheriff Sinclair and me. You did.”

Sue rolled her eyes. “Will you ever learn to keep your mouth shut?” she asked angrily.

Then it dawned on me. The whole, ugly picture flashed like a movie through my mind. “You didn’t tell Simon, but Simon took the picture.”

“Yes, why did you? I never quite understood that,” Roger asked, honestly stumped. “It was worth next to nothing, you moron.”

Jack took an indignant step and Simon casually put up his hand to stop him. “Because it meant something to Doug, you impotent fool,” Simon drawled and Roger turned beet red.

Sue grinned. “He’s got your number, hon,” she said rudely and Roger now glared at his wife.

“Family secrets, Sue,” Simon said sadly. “Welcome to the family.”

I interjected before this got out of hand, “So Doug was killed quite by accident. You don’t tell Simon, but he takes the painting before you can get to it. But how…?” I stopped and looked up toward Bob and Linda’s room. It dawned on me then. “You’re the insurance agent.”

“Brava, whoever you are,” Sue said. “Now I hate to break this up…” She started to hand the gun to Roger but stopped. “No, you don’t have the guts,” she said flatly.

Roger still glared at her and Simon chuckled. Sue handed him the painting.

“Why kill Helen? Did she get cold feet?” I asked, biding for time. George and the state police were due.

“Ice cold. You scared the fuck out of her, so she wanted to cancel and do it some other time.” She stopped and glanced around the room. “All right, you’re all making me nervous. Everybody, sit down,” she ordered.

The girls sat on the couch and Simon and Jack stood behind it. Adam and I slowly made our way toward the desk, closer to Sue and Roger. Maggie was right behind me.

“You killed Helen because she wanted out, correct? You struggled, then you stabbed her and flung her off the balcony. You were the one Kit saw running down the stairs. Helen must have called Roger. What happened? Roger agreed with his sister—too many people, too many chances for a foul-up. I was here. Bob and Linda were here. But you wanted to go ahead with it. So you both decided…”

“No.” Roger blurted out. “I did not want to kill my own sister!”

“Who cares, Roger? Let’s get out of here,” Sue said, glaring at me. “I don’t know who the fuck you are, but, man, you are aggravating me to no end. I can see why Helen wanted to call it off. I’d like to shoot you right now,” she said and pointed the gun in my face. I flinched but did not move.

Adam took a step and she pointed the gun at him. “You all should really believe me when I tell you I will kill you.”

“For what, Sue?” I asked. “You’d kill all of us for a worthless painting? Is that the reason? Or could it be for maybe five million reasons?”

Sue took a step back, completely thrown off-guard. Roger looked like someone punched him in the solar plexus. “You can’t know…”

I just grinned. Sue motioned to Roger, who quickly took the back off the picture, tossing the cardboard aside. He let out a loud groan. “They’re gone!”

Sue quickly looked at the picture, her gun still pointed at me. “Fuck! Where are they, lady?” she asked and just then, a voice came from the doorway.

“Sue.”

Everybody turned. The girls all jumped up. “Nicholas!”

Nick Bennett walked into the living room.

Terrific, one more person in the living room.

Nick had a gun. Adam cursed under his breath as Nick slowly walked into the room.

Kit scolded him severely. “Nicholas, shame on you.”

“Please sit down, ma’am,” he begged frantically.

Kit sat and Emily took over. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“I am, believe me,” he said.

Sue narrowed her eyes at him. “Nick, what are you doing?” she asked cautiously. “Put the gun down, baby. We just need the bonds…”

“Baby?” Roger called out and Simon threw his head back and laughed. Roger glared at him.

“Roger, you should see your face!” Simon cried out happily. “Someone has taken your place.”

“Fuck you…”

“I don’t think you can any more, dear boy,” Simon said seriously and Jack put a warning hand on his arm.

And then…mayhem.

Roger lunged for Simon, who shrieked. Jack lunged for Roger. Sue waved the gun at everybody and everybody ducked except Nick. He dove in front of the screaming women, protecting them. He turned quickly to confront Sue and the gun went off; several shots fired through the room.

I saw an opening, and as I started forward, Maggie roughly grabbed me and we tumbled to the floor. Adam took a flying leap for Sue and Nick.

Then a horrific blast stopped everyone in their tracks.

George stood there in the doorway with a shotgun and fired it into the air. He stood there with plaster all over him and winced as part of the ceiling fell on his head.

“Nobody move!” he called out as he spit out plaster.

I shook my head and held on to Maggie. What a week….

The living room looked like a triage. Nick was lying on the couch with a paramedic looking over him. Adam was sitting in a chair, Rose hovering over him. Simon was sitting in the other chair with Jack hovering over him. Bob and Linda were in a daze. They slept through the whole thing until the shotgun blast, of course, which luckily went through the hall and not their room, hence the dazed look.

I watched Maggie as she assisted the paramedics. George took control, talked to the state police, and ushered Sue and Roger out in handcuffs. He still had plaster all over him. “Adam, I’ll be outside. Rose, you did a good job,” he said and walked out.

“What did you do?” Adam asked as Rose tended to his cut forehead.

“I heard all the yelling and slipped out the back door and called George. He was already on the way. I told him what was happening. Are ya sure you’re all right?” she asked softly.

Adam smiled and nodded. “I’m fine. That was a brave thing you did, Rose.”

Ah, young love.

I watched Rebecca, Emily, and Kit standing over Nick. “He’s okay. We have to take him to the hospital, he’s going to need stitches. It’s just a flesh wound, though,” the paramedic said and walked out.

“Nicholas, just what were you doing?” Rebecca asked seriously. Nick groaned and tried to sit up. All three mothers gently pushed him back.

I needed to know one thing. “How did they get you, Nick?”

“Same way they got Mr. Townsend—blackmail. I was to get the ladies in and let them know, but when Sue said she was going to see Helen, I thought that was odd. Helen left the back door open when you all were asleep. Sue snuck in and I climbed up the balcony. I didn’t think she was going to kill her. I didn’t know what the fuck was happening,” he said helplessly.

Kit slapped his head. “Don’t curse.”

“Sorry.”

“So you saw her kill Helen?” I asked.

“No. I was just about up there when I saw Helen’s body hit the ground. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t go to the police. I-I should have.”

“Why were you in the woods? Linda saw you, by the way. Rose saw you in the window, and you hit George, didn’t you?” I asked and Nick nodded obediently.

“Nick, you dope,” Rebecca said, shaking her head.

“I told Sue I would stay close to see what happened, but I was looking out for the ladies,” he said softly. “I felt like a heel when I dropped them off. I figured I should stick around and see that nothing happened to them. When the deputy came out, I was trying to hide, but he almost saw me, so I tapped him on the head. I didn’t mean to hurt him,” he said and took a deep breath.

Adam listened. “I’m sorry, but you’re part of this, Mr. Bennett, I’ve got to take you in.”

“I know, I know. I deserve it. I just didn’t kill anyone, and when I found out Sue killed her, I tried to figure out a way to get out from under. They just had me, like Mr. Townsend.”

Rebecca grinned wickedly. “I know a good lawyer, Nick. If you play your cards right, when you get out, you’ll have a job. We could use a good driver.”

Nick smiled slightly. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“What an excellent idea!” Emily agreed.

Kit smoothed back his hair. “You rest now,” she said and kissed his head.

I looked over at Bob and Linda. “Adam, can Bob have his painting back?”

Adam thought for a moment and nodded. “Once we have everything cleared up.”

Bob nodded his thanks, then pulled Linda into his arms.

Simon was gazing up at Jack. “I think you’ll live,” Jack said softly and closed his doctor bag.

“I hope so. I wouldn’t want to miss anything,” Simon quipped. He glanced at me and smiled. “Thank you, Miss Marple, you saved the day.”

“We all did, Simon. I’m sorry about Helen and Roger. And I’m truly sorry about Doug,” I said.

Simon nodded slowly as Jack reached down and brushed the thick hair off his forehead.

“Hey! Where are the bonds?” Adam asked.

I turned and Maggie held them up. I gave her a wink as she handed them to Adam.

“How much are they worth?” Jack asked.

“I think Kate’s guess of five million might be right, or close to it, but I can’t be sure,” Adam said as he leafed through them, then placed them in his pocket. “We’ll find out,” he said and stuck out his hand, which I took.

“Thanks, Kate Ryan. I would never have figured this out without you. You should have been a cop, you’re better at it than I am.”

Rose came up behind him and pushed him back into the chair. “Sit still,” she nagged gently.

“Kate,” Adam said. “What about Hester Worsley? I half expected to see her instead of the Dorsey woman.”

“I don’t know. Part of me thought so, too,” I said. “So much for my PI instincts.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. I think you might be right. It’s almost too coincidental.”

“I was wrong about her involvement in this. I suppose it’s just my imagination. I need a vacation.”

I looked over to see Emily, Rebecca, and Kit nagging Nick, who was smiling sheepishly.

Jack was nagging Simon to sit still as he tended to the cut on his arm.

All at once, I felt left out. Maggie was nowhere to be found.

I never ran up a flight of stairs so fast in my life. I tripped on the last two. Maggie stood in the doorway of our room, glaring at me as I came to a skidding halt.

What did I do?

“What?”

“Don’t what me, Kate Ryan. You were going to leap after that gun, weren’t you?” she asked, no, she accused. “If I hadn’t stopped you…”

I pulled her into the bedroom and shut the door. “Stop your nagging,” I whispered and pulled out my beloved cell phone.

“What are you doing?” Maggie asked. I still saw the angry look on her lovely face.

“It’s March and freezing. We’re done here and…” I stopped. “Connie? Kate.”

“Ryan, what the hell is going on there?”

“Well, let’s see. Your ex-husband is a cad. He and Helen tried to blackmail Doug. Then I stupidly thought Hester Worsley was involved. Then the back of the painting hid millions in some sort of bonds. And—”

“Ryan, you’re rambling. Take a deep breath. Now answer my questions. Is everyone all right?”

“Yes.”

“Is it over and no one else has been killed?”

“Yes and no.”

“Are you and Maggie okay?”

“Yes.”

“Then get your ass on a plane and get back here.”

“No.”

There was silence on the other end. I could hear Connie take a long drag off her cigarette. “You really need to quit smoking.”

“What do you mean no?”

“I’ll fill you in on all the particulars when we land in Hawaii.”

I looked at the happily stunned expression on Maggie’s adorable face.

“Oh, I see. You think you deserve a vacation? Why Hawaii?”

I was still gazing like a lovesick jackass at Maggie. “Huh? Oh, I don’t know why. I’ve never been there, I guess. Maggie is filthy rich, and I’m gonna help her spend a little of it.”

Maggie raised an eyebrow and sported a challenging smile as she walked up to me.

“Well, it’s what Nick Charles would do,” I said and felt the warm lips on my neck. Connie was barking on the other end, but I had no clue what she was saying. “Uh, what? Um, I gotta go, Connie. I’ll call ya,” I said and snapped the phone shut.

I closed my eyes and reveled in Maggie’s touch. “We’re going to Hawaii?” she whispered against my ear. I nodded rapidly but couldn’t speak. “Good, I’ve been there, and I know just the spot with warm tropical breezes on a secluded beach.”

I nodded again and shivered as her fingers raked through my hair. I believe I swayed into her body.

“No murder,” she whispered and kissed my neck. I nodded obediently. I was lost, I was found. All of the above. “No mayhem,” she continued with that tongue.

“Just the sun and surf, and you and me. Think we can handle that, Miss Ryan?”

I looked down into the blue eyes that I loved. Since I met Maggie Winfield, through her love and tenderness, and yes, her sarcasm, she helped me rejoin the human race. I made great strides to place the memory of Liz and that horrible night in the past where forgotten things belong.

Maggie’s caress was like a balm—I leaned into the healing touch that was Maggie Winfield. I prayed she would never let me go.

“I think we can handle just about anything, Dr. Winfield,” I assured her. I draped my arm around her small shoulders. “Now tell me seriously, just how stinking rich are you?”

Her contagious laughter rang out as I closed the door behind us.

Epilogue

The steam from the motel shower engulfed the small bathroom. She shut off the hot water and stepped out of the shower. She grabbed the towel and began drying her body.

As she stood in front of the sink, she laughed and picked up the empty bottle of Clairol Nice N’Easy 10, jet black, tossing it into the wastebasket. She then placed the brown-colored contacts into their plastic case and rubbed her eyes, knowing she had worn them too long. They followed the bottle into the basket.

With a swipe of her hand, she cleared the steam off the mirror above the porcelain sink. She cocked her head when she saw her reflection. Leaning in, as if to examine her face, she turned her head from side to side, then winked.

“Back to normal,” she whispered. “Whatever that may be.” She ran her fingers through her short onyx curls. Her crystal blue eyes, no longer hidden by the brown contacts, sparkled as they always had.

Running the towel over her body, she stopped when she came to the jagged, ugly scar on her stomach and hip. The bullet that tore through her body and the long days in the cold Irish Atlantic, her body slamming helplessly upon the rugged rocks, had left her this way. She toweled farther down her body and winced when she came to the knot in the bone of her lower leg. Her once beautiful body reduced to this skinny, scarred shell. Another gift from Kate Ryan, she thought angrily, and tossed the towel in the corner.

She stared at her reflection once again and let out a hearty laugh. “Oh, Kate Ryan, how I’ve fooled ya. You really had no idea it was me, did you?” She leaned in again, her face inches from the mirror. “Boo!”

Letting out another hearty laugh, she slipped into the terrycloth robe and limped out of the bathroom. Her suitcase lay on the bed, her clothes neatly packed. She dressed, and as she slipped into her shoes, she glanced at the nightstand. She picked up the airline ticket back to Ireland and slipped it in her purse. Her eye twitched; she felt her anger mounting when she saw the phone number on the business card that lay there, taunting her. She recalled her psychiatrist’s advice on traveling, not knowing the extent or the reason for her coming to America. She remembered the doctor advising to call if she felt her anger getting out of control.

Bridget laughed at her psychiatrist’s ignorance. “She has no idea what out of control is. She’s no idea what I’ve been through.” She ripped the card in half, then again and again. She continued in a quiet fury, reducing the card nearly to confetti. “I’ve told her too much as it is. She doesn’t care how Kate Ryan ruined me.”

She smiled and tossed the tiny pieces high into the air and watched them fall helplessly at her feet. Trying not to compare the pieces to her life as it was now, she angrily kicked at the torn card on the floor.

“Ya thought I died in the Atlantic, Kate Ryan.” She looked at the remnants of the card, as if talking to them. “Everyone thinks you’re so smart,” she whispered. She then zipped her suitcase. “So smart, so clever. Ya had everything figured out.”

Feeling her rage mounting, she lifted the suitcase, and with an angry howl, she heaved it across the room, knocking over the desk chair on its way as it landed against the door.

“I’m the smart one,” Bridget yelled with an irate thump to her chest.

She shook her head to compose herself, then straightened her sweater, slipped into her coat, and grabbed her purse. After calmly picking up the chair and setting it by the desk, she picked up the suitcase.

As she walked out of the room, she caught her reflection in the glass of a picture that hung by the door. She narrowed her eyes, trying to find her features hidden within the nature scene. Then, finding her blue eyes staring back at her, she grinned. “I’m the smart one, Kate Ryan.”

Then she was gone.

About the author

Kate Sweeney was the 2007 recipient of the Golden Crown Literary Society award for Debut Author for She Waits, the first in the Kate Ryan Mystery series. The series also includes A Nice Clean Murder, The Trouble with Murder, a 2008 Golden Crown Award Winner for Mystery, and Who’ll Be Dead for Christmas?

Other novels include Away from the Dawn, Survive the Dawn, Residual Moon, a 2008 Golden Crown Award Winner for Speculative Fiction, and The O’Malley Legacy. She is also a contributing author for the anthology Wild Nights: (Mostly) True Stories of Women Loving Women, published by Bella Books.

Born in Chicago, Kate resides in Villa Park, Illinois, where she works as an office manager—no glamour here, folks; it pays the bills. Humor is deeply embedded in Kate’s DNA. She sincerely hopes you will see this when you read her novels, short stories, and other works by visiting her Web site at www.katesweeneyonline.com. E-mail Kate at ksweeney22@aol.com. 