He said, “I’m sorry the three of you had to find her. That had to be very tough.”

Mary Lisa raised her eyes to his, back for the moment to the world of the present.

John Goddard appeared in the living room doorway beside him. “I’ve been on the phone to Dr. Hughes, Jack.” At Jack’s nod, he turned to the three women. “You guys all right?” But his eyes were on Elizabeth, and he walked to her like a homing pigeon. She smiled up at him. “Yes, John, we’re fine.”

“We should get you all out of here,” John said. “There might be media, especially if they find out Mary Lisa is here.”

“You’re right,” Jack said. He cursed under his breath, streaked his fingers through his hair, making it stick straight up. He looked out the wide front window. Neighbors were standing in their yards, a clump of them directly across the street huddled together. At least a dozen cars were still in the Hildebrand driveway, some climbed onto the curb in front of the house, one even parked on the grass. He couldn’t, at that moment, think of anything that could possibly be worse.

He walked over to Mary Lisa and held his hand out to her. She took it and stood up, and he pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry, really sorry you had to find her.”

She pressed her cheek against his neck. “It was pretty bad.” She swallowed down a sob. No more falling apart. It wouldn’t help anything.

“I want you to go back to the inn, okay? Please, stay there until I can get back to you.”

She leaned back in his arms, studied his face. “All right,” she said finally, “but I need to go see my parents soon.”

FIFTY-SEVEN

Mary Lisa stepped quietly into the living room. Her father was holding her mother, her head on his shoulder, and he was rocking her. He looked up, gave her a strained smile. Slowly, he eased her mother back.

“Mary Lisa is here, Kathy.”

Kathleen Beverly looked worn, somehow hollowed out, her makeup smudged, her eyes red-rimmed and vague. She looked toward her daughter and said, “I don’t think there’s enough luncheon meat for you, Mary Lisa, since you didn’t give us any warning you were coming to lunch.”

“I’m not here for lunch, Mom. I came to tell you how very sorry I am about Mrs. Hildebrand.”

Kathleen said, not looking at her, “How very nice of you.” She cleared her throat. “I understand you were the one who found her.”

Mary Lisa nodded. “Yes, Lou Lou and Elizabeth and I. It was-very bad.”

“You saw her hanging there?”

Mary Lisa nodded, mute for a moment. “One of the deputies said you went to visit her last night.”

George Beverly waved his daughter to a chair, but he didn’t look away from his wife’s face. “I wondered where you’d gone last evening. So, you went to see Olivia?”

“What is this? Are the two of you ganging up on me? I find it interesting you are questioning me, Mary Lisa, as if you cared about what’s been happening with us in Goddard Bay all these years.”

George Beverly cut in, his voice sharp. “Kathleen, I know this has been a terrible time for you, but please watch how you speak to Mary Lisa. She is your daughter, and you will strive for a little kindness, a hint of civility at least, if kindness isn’t in your repertoire.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve let the cat out of the bag, Mother. I was hoping I could learn something about what happened. Olivia Hildebrand was your best friend. Did you have any hint she’d do this?”

George Beverly looked up to see Jack Wolf standing in the living room doorway. How long had he been there? Probably long enough, George thought. He waved him in. “Please come in, Jack. We were just waiting for my wife to answer that question you heard. Do be seated, have some tea.”

He soon had Jack sitting opposite his wife, the steam from the hot tea wafting up beside his hand. “Mrs. Beverly, I’m very sorry for your loss. But please go ahead. Did Olivia Hildebrand give you any warning about this?”

Kathleen Beverly shook her head, all the while seeming to study a painting on the wall, a Dutch countryside scene with its requisite cows and shepherd and hazy light. “How very wise the lot of you think you are. Olivia was my first close friend, my only close friend, really. Of course I was worried for her. The fact is, she didn’t kill anyone. I think that breakdown she had this week was staged, because she was trying to protect her daughter. Why don’t you arrest Marci, Jack, instead of sniffing around Mary Lisa?”

They all looked at her, astonished.

Then Kathleen shrugged, impatiently wiped the back of her hand over her eyes. Her mascara was badly smeared. “She’s gone. It doesn’t matter now.”

“I’m very sorry, Mom. I know she meant a great deal to you.”

Kathleen raised her head, stared at Mary Lisa, through her really. She slowly stood up. She was wearing a light cream V-necked sweater with a cream silk blouse and a pair of darker linen trousers. But today, when she stood, she didn’t look beautiful and rich, in control of her world. She looked at each of them. “Marci killed both her husband and her father and her mother. You need only find the proof.”

“Actually, Mrs. Beverly, one of the reasons I came over was that Dr. Hughes, the medical examiner, just called me,” Jack said. “The rope she used was quite thick and heavy, and I really couldn’t see how she managed to fashion a noose and, well, to pull it tightly enough. I doubted she had the strength to do it. But the fact is, she somehow managed it. Dr. Hughes said there were rope burns on her palms where she’d yanked on the rope, and hemp fibers beneath her fingernails. He said she worked really hard but she handled it. She killed herself, Mrs. Beverly. I’m very sorry.”

Kathleen’s harsh choppy breath was the loudest sound in the living room. She looked at each of them, her face utterly without expression, and said, “I don’t believe that,” and she left the living room.

George Beverly sighed, looked down at his clenched hands. He unclenched them, splayed his palms on his thighs. “Until a month ago, our lives were quite pleasant really, never too much excitement, but enough to stave off boredom. Now, I seem to be standing in the midst of a shambles.” He rose, walked to his daughter, kissed her brow. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you’re used to her ways, aren’t you?”

She hugged her father close. She really didn’t want to let him go. He had been her support for so long. He whispered against her ear, “You did well with her. You’re a brave, good girl.”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding, “that’s me, brave and good. I’m so sorry about all this, Dad. I probably shouldn’t have come, but I had to. She’s so terribly hurt.” She paused a moment. “Do you know I’ve never before seen her makeup smeared?”

“And you’re always trying to fix things. Maybe your mother will learn to expand her borders a bit at long last. There are very nice people in Goddard Bay. Who knows, maybe she’ll let herself get close to some of them now that Olivia’s gone.” He saw the pain in his daughter’s eyes-his eyes-and couldn’t help but add, “Dearest, dredging up the past would cause too much pain for everyone, myself included, and it would be for your mother to do, in any case. But know this. None of what your mother feels is your fault. You are a very fine woman, and you are the child of my heart.” He nodded to Jack, and followed his wife from the living room.

Mary Lisa looked over at Jack. Her frown smoothed out. “Jack, I don’t know if I can do as my father says, stop banging my head against this particular wall, stop trying to understand my mother. I’ve always trusted him, and I know I should try to let it all go, but how can I? What did he mean, it would bring them too much pain? What happened?

“Oh, all right, so be it. At least I know it’s not about me, me as a person. You know something else? I am a good person and I will be the child of my father’s heart until I die.”