Somehow she managed to get the food onto serving dishes, to light the candles and call them to the table. At least I’m a good cook, she reflected. Emily can tell her mother that.

Erich carved and served the rib roast. “One of our own steers,” he said proudly. “Are you sure that doesn’t repel you, Jenny?”

He was teasing her. She mustn’t overreact. The others didn’t seem to notice. “Think, Jenny,” he continued in the same bantering tone, “the yearling you pointed out to me in the field last month, the one you said looked so wistful. You’re eating him now.”

Her throat closed. She was afraid she would gag. Please, God, please don’t let me get sick.

Emily laughed. “Erich, you are so mean. Remember you used to bait Arden like that and have her in tears?”

“Arden?” Jenny asked. She reached for her water glass. The knot in her throat started to dissolve.

“Yes. What a nice kid she was. Talk about the all-American girl. Crazy about animals. At sixteen she wouldn’t touch meat or poultry. Said it was barbaric and that she was going to be a vet when she grew up. But I guess she changed her mind. I was in college when she ran away.”

“Rooney’s never given up hope that she’ll come back,” Mark commented. “It’s incredible, the mother instinct. You see it from the first moment of birth. The dumbest animal knows its own calf and will protect it to the death.”

“You’re not eating your meat, darling,” Erich commented.

A flash of anger made it possible for her to square her shoulders and look across the table directly into his eyes. “And you’re not eating your vegetables, darling,” she told him.

He winked at her. He was just teasing. “Touché,” he smiled.

The peal of the door chimes startled all of them. Erich frowned. “Now, who could that…” His voice trailed off as he stared at Jenny. She knew what he was thinking. Don’t let it be Kevin, she prayed, and realized as she pushed back her chair that all evening she’d been sending frantic prayers for divine intervention.

A heavily built man of about sixty, with massive shoulders, a bulging leather jacket and narrow, heavy-lidded eyes, was there. His car was parked directly in front of the house, an official car with a red dome top.

“Mrs. Krueger?”

“Yes.” Relief made her weak. No matter what this man wanted, at least Kevin hadn’t come.

“I’m Wendell Gunderson, sheriff of Granite County. May I come in?”

“Of course. I’ll get my husband.”

Erich was hurrying down the hall, into the foyer. Jenny noticed the instant respect that came into the sheriff’s face. “Sorry to bother you, Erich. Just have to ask your wife a few questions.”

“Ask me a few questions?” But even as she spoke, Jenny knew that this visit had to do with Kevin.

“Yes, ma’am.” From the dining room they could hear the sound of Mark’s voice. “Could we speak quietly for a few minutes?”

“Why don’t you come and join us for coffee?” Erich suggested.

“Perhaps your wife would rather answer my questions privately, Erich.”

Jenny felt clammy perspiration on her forehead. She realized her palms were damp. The queasiness was so strong, she had to clamp her lips together. “There’s certainly no reason we can’t talk at the table,” she murmured helplessly.

She led the way into the dining room, listened as Emily greeted the sheriff with quickly concealed surprise, watched as Mark leaned back in his chair, an attitude she had begun to realize meant he was diagnosing a situation. As Erich offered the sheriff a drink which was refused “because of being on official business,” she set out the coffee cups.

“Mrs. Krueger, do you know a Kevin MacPartland?”

“Yes.” She knew her voice was trembling. “Has Kevin been in an accident?”

“When and where did you last see him?”

She put her hands in her pockets, clenched them into fists. Of course it had had to come out. But why this way? Oh, Erich, I’m so sorry, she thought. She could not look at Erich. “On February twenty-fourth at the shopping center in Raleigh.”

“Kevin MacPartland is the father of your children?”

“He is my former husband and the father of my children.” She heard Emily gasp.

“When did you last speak with him?”

“He phoned on the evening of March seventh about nine o’clock. Please tell me. Has anything happened to him?”

The sheriff’s eyes narrowed into slits. “On Monday afternoon, March ninth, Kevin MacPartland received a telephone call during a rehearsal at the Guthrie Theater. He said his former wife had to see him about the children. He borrowed a car from one of the other actors and left half an hour later, about four-thirty P.M., promising to return in the morning. That was four days ago and he hasn’t been heard from since. The car he borrowed was only six weeks old and the actor who lent it had just met MacPartland so you can understand that he’s pretty concerned. Are you saying that you did not ask him to meet you?”

“No, I did not.”

“May I ask why you’ve been in touch with your former husband? We understood around here that you were a widow.”

“Kevin wanted to see the girls,” Jenny said. “He was talking about stopping the adoption.” It surprised her how lifeless her voice sounded. She could see Kevin as though he were in the room: the expensive ski sweater, the long scarf draped over his left shoulder, the dark red hair so carefully barbered, the poses and posturing. Had he deliberately staged a disappearance to embarrass her? She had warned him that Erich was upset. Did Kevin hope to destroy their marriage before it had a chance?

“And what did you tell him?”

“When I saw him, and when he called, I told him to leave us alone.” Her voice was getting higher.

“Erich, were you aware of this meeting, of the phone call on March seventh?”

“I was aware of the phone call on March seventh. I was here when it came. I was not aware of the meeting. But I can understand it. Jenny knew my feelings about Kevin MacPartland.”

“You were home with your wife on the evening of March ninth?”

“No, as a matter of fact, I stayed in the cabin that night. I was just completing a new canvas.”

“Did your wife know you were planning to be away?”

There was a long silence. Jenny broke it. “Of course I knew.”

“What did you do that evening, Mrs. Krueger?”

“I was very tired and went to bed shortly after I had settled my little girls in their room.”

“Did you speak to anyone on the phone?”

“No one. I went to sleep almost immediately.”

“I see. And you are very sure you did not invite your former husband to visit you during Erich’s absence?”

“No, I did not… I would never ask him to come here.” It was as though she could read their minds. Of course they didn’t believe her.

Her untouched plate was on the serving buffet. Congealed fat was forming a narrow rim around the beef. The beef had a crimson center. She thought of Randy’s body turning crimson with blood as he collapsed among the roses; she thought of Kevin’s dark red hair.

Now the plate was going around and around. She had to get fresh air. She was spinning too. Pushing back her chair, she tried to struggle to her feet. Her last conscious recollection was Erich’s expression- was it concern or annoyance?-as her chair slammed against the buffet behind her.

When she woke up she was lying on the couch in the parlor. Someone was holding a cold cloth on her head. It felt so good. Her head hurt so much. There was something she didn’t want to think about.

Kevin.

She opened her eyes. “I’m all right. I’m so sorry.”

Mark was bending over her. There was so much concern in his face. It was oddly comforting. “Take it easy,” he said.

“Can I get something for you, Jenny?” There was an undercurrent of excitement in Emily’s voice. She’s enjoying this, Jenny thought. She’s the kind of person who wants to be in on everything.