Christina pulled out a sheet of typing paper with just Chapter One typed at the top. "She didn't get very far, did she? Poor thing. I still can see her hunched over her typewriter, typing with those bony old hands. It's hard to believe when she started writing, she was younger than I am now." She sighed. "God, I miss her."

"I do, too, Chris." Zoe touched her aunt's things, as if they'd somehow bring her closer to them. "I like to think she's still a presence in our lives, don't you?"

"She is in mine. I'd never have the café without her."

Zoe pulled out the obits and laughed and fought tears at the same time. "Leave it to Aunt Olivia to rewrite her own obituary. Dad thought she was nuts-he threatened to get her on Prozac. Maybe I should have brought the new version down to the paper, but I couldn't think."

"What's that?" Christina leaned toward Zoe and pointed to doodles at the bottom of a half-typed page.

"Nothing, I don't know. A tree. A hangman. Betsy probably tried to get her to play hangman-" But Zoe frowned, examining the doodles more closely, noticing the frailty of the pencil lines. They were definitely her aunt's doing, the difficulty she'd had drawing evident. "Chris, Aunt Olivia had a hard time even holding a pencil. Why would she doodle?"

"Maybe it wasn't her."

Zoe shook her head. "No, you can see it was hard for whoever did it-it had to be her. Look, there are places where the pencil went a little wild."

"Jeez, it really is like a Jen Periwinkle clue, isn't it? You know, how she'd find messages in bottles, stuff dropped just in the nick of time."

"But a hangman and a tree?"

"They're line drawings," Christina said. "She didn't fill them in. Maybe that means something."

Zoe held the paper closer to the dim light. "There's a tiny arrow pointing to one of the tree branches. Oh, hell. Chris-a stick, a stick figure."

"Stick Monroe? Zoe!"

"He was here the morning Dad was killed. the other day-" Zoe swallowed, shaking. "Stick mentioned Aunt Olivia was revising her obituary that morning, before I got here."

"You can't possibly think-no." Christina shook her head. "No way."

If there was a name Olivia wouldn't want to remember-a man she would never want to know had killed someone as surely as she knew that day-it was Stick Monroe. Zoe's hands were shaking so badly she had to set the paper down. Not Stick. She had to be wrong.

Christina was equally as horrified. "Why would Aunt Olivia think Stick killed Dad? It can't be!"

"You know what Stick says. Everyone has secrets. Maybe she discovered his secrets."

"Or knew Dad had-but Zoe, Stick wouldn't have the kind of secrets you'd kill your friend to keep from getting out. My God, we have to be wrong!"

Zoe stared at the paper and the simple drawings her great-aunt had done in her last hours. "Dad must have been planning to arrest him."

"Stick? For what? It had to be something awful for him to risk killing someone-to kill his own friend." Christina jumped to her feet, and Zoe could feel her sis-ter's agitation, her fear. "You wouldn't kill somebody over unpaid parking tickets."

"Dad stopped by to see Aunt Olivia that morning. If he said something, and then Stick stopped by-Aunt Olivia wouldn't have to say anything. He'd know. But we're getting ahead of ourselves. Just because Aunt Olivia believed she knew Stick killed Dad doesn't mean she was right. A couple of doodles aren't proof of anything." Zoe handed the half-written obituary and its stick drawings to her sister. "Will you take this to the police? J.B. and Bruce must still be at the lobster pound-I'll take my car and go find them."

"Kyle-Zoe, do you think he knows-"

But she broke off, and Zoe didn't answer her sister's half-formed question as they headed back downstairs. They'd taken Christina's car up from the docks, and she drove off alone, with obvious misgivings at leaving Zoe to her own devices. But she didn't plan to waste any time. She had her VW back. She grabbed her keys and charged out the side door.

Stick walked around from the front porch. "Zoe."

He had one hand behind his back. Not a good sign, Zoe thought. You always want to keep their hands in sight. "Hey, Stick, what's up?"

She knew she'd blown it. He'd been her friend since she was a little girl, and he'd killed her father. Murdered him. How could she pretend she didn't know?

His eyes narrowed on her. "Oh, Zoe. Zoe, Zoe. You can't hide it. Not from me."

"Stick-"

"Shh. You don't know what it was like to have Olivia look at me and know."

Zoe could barely breathe. "Did you kill her, too?"

"I didn't have to. She was dying. I could see it. Zoe-I have a Zodiac down on the water. I borrowed it from Luke. No one even paid attention. They're all fixated on the idea of Teddy Shelton loose in Goose Harbor with grenades." He swallowed, but didn't look nervous or upset. "I don't have much time. I need you to help me make this work. I've had the plan in place for a year. I've examined all the contingencies. It's my only option left."

He pulled the gun from behind his back. Luke's missing Colt Python. He was Luke's friend. He'd have access to the alarm code-Luke would have given it to him.

He leveled the Colt at Zoe. Had he done it this way with her father?

She refused to panic. "Christina's taking your name to the police."

The shock of seeing Stick-the fury Olivia must have felt at what he'd done-must have been the last straw for her old heart. He'd as good as killed her. Zoe could feel her own rage building, but she knew she had to contain it. If she didn't, she'd die, and so would Teddy Shelton and Kyle Castellane.

"Stay two steps ahead of me," Stick said. "And no cop tricks. I shot your father, Zoe. Don't think I won't shoot you."

Thirty-Three

Christina stumbled out of her car and started to collapse, but Bruce was there, grabbing her around the waist and keeping her on her feet. He and J.B. were at the lobster pound, waiting, as instructed, for the police to get there to take custody of Shelton 's arsenal. They'd watched her speed into the lobster pound's dirt lot, so fast J.B. half expected her to drive straight into the water. She'd braked hard and threw open the door, then fell apart.

"Chris," Bruce said gently. "What's wrong?"

She made eye contact with him, her face white. She choked back a sob. "Stick's got Zoe." She couldn't get her breath and thrust a sheet of paper at J.B. "He killed Dad. It's right here."

J.B. took the paper but stayed focused her. "Where are they now?"

"He took her in a Zodiac. Luke's, I think. I was on my way to the police-I saw Stick take her. I didn't know what to do." She was gulping in air. "I don't know who to trust anymore. I didn't want to do anything that would make her situation worse. So I came straight here."

"Stick doesn't know shit about boats," Bruce said. "He's out in this fog? Never mind on purpose, he'll kill Zoe by accident."

Christina, still in Bruce's grasp, seemed steadier. "They headed north."

Bruce dropped his arm. "Come on, McGrath. Let's go. We'll take my boat." He held Christina by the shoulders and gave her an encouraging shake. "You know what to do, right, Chris? Get in your car. Drive back to town. Raise hell."

J.B. thought Bruce did fine with his instructions. "Tell the police Stick took Zoe as a hostage. He's going after Kyle and Shelton.He'll kill them and frame Shelton if he can. He's had time to work out a plan. He'll keep Zoe as his hostage as long as he needs her-"

Bruce coughed, hiding his own shock and fear. "Got it, Chris?" She nodded. "I-I don't think Stick knows I saw him."

J.B. started to help her back into her car, but she told him she was okay. "Find my sister."