“Anything else you want to add to your statement?” the police officer asked.

Commander merely shook his head as an answer. So, Sergeant French had talked to him, too.

When Commander was out of earshot, I asked the sergeant if Commander had mentioned that he’d picked up marshmallow forks on the beach. I was expecting a big gasp of surprise before he asked me for details, but he gave me his blank cop face.

“I don’t have to discuss this with you. We’re not working together, remember? At first Mr. Blaine didn’t mention it, but it came back to him, and he called me. He said he’d picked them up along with a partially burned bag. He claimed it was his natural tendency to pick up his things others had left. He didn’t remember exactly, but was pretty sure he’d thrown the bag away and cleaned up the forks and put them back with the others.”

“Well, there goes any forensic evidence,” I said. I think Sergeant French was back to rolling his eyes as he prepared to leave.

“You should talk to Spenser Futterman,” I said quickly.

“Who?” Sergeant French asked. His cop face was all gone as I described Spenser and his female companion and said that Spenser was the crow.

“The what?” he asked. He was trying to keep a serious look, but his mouth wanted to grin. I reminded him that someone was in Izabelle’s room when Dinah and I had first used the key. “There were papers missing and we saw a shadow go out the window. You said it was a crow, remember?” He gave me a condescending nod and I explained how Spenser and his lady friend had come into Izabelle’s room and I’d heard Spenser admit that he’d been in there before and had exited through the window. “So you see, he’s the crow.” It was a little tricky explaining why I was in the closet.

“I guess that’s part of your amateur sleuthing,” Sergeant French said. He couldn’t hide the grin anymore. He took out his notebook and wrote something down. “See, I’m making a note of it. You said they didn’t take anything other than pictures, right? I’ll have my men check this guy out.”

Right. I knew when someone was humoring me.

The call that my photo was ready came as the workshops took their break. I walked through the throng of people quickly, not wanting to be stopped by anyone, and made a direct line to Adele’s car.

I struggled with the lock, not remembering what special move I was supposed to use, and finally jiggled it enough that it moved and the button popped up. A few moments later, I zipped back out through the gate, elated at the prospect of seeing the altered photo. In a few minutes I’d know for sure if Izabelle’s twin was among us and, more important, who she was. I barely noticed the ride and pulled into the large parking lot of the Del Monte Mall.

Rather than deal with Adele’s weird lock, I just left the car open. How long would I be, anyway, and who in their right mind would want to steal her car? The layout of the mall confused me, and I didn’t realize until I was walking into it that I had parked at the wrong end. By then it seemed longer to walk back and move the car than to go the extra distance. I felt a surge of excitement as I reached the walkway between the stores and headed toward the photo studio. I was priding myself on my creativity at age- progressing the doll. Amateur sleuth, hah!

When I walked in the store, the kid straightened. “I think you’re going to be very happy with this,” he said as he showed me the sealed, large manila envelope sitting on top of the book behind the counter.

“Can I see it?” I said, reaching for it, but he handed me the bill instead. When the transaction was complete, he handed me the charge slip, book, and envelope, and walked me to the door. “We close early on Sunday.”

Since I had waited this long, I decided to do the unveiling in the car, where I could sit and examine the picture. The only problem was, finding Adele’s car turned out to be a chore. I’d been so focused on getting to the photo place, I hadn’t paid any attention to where I had left the car. Silver cars don’t exactly stand out the way my greenmobile does. A 1993 Mercedes 190E in teal green is hard to miss. When I finally located it, I slid in, shut the door, and tore open the envelope.

When I looked at the print, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I certainly understood why the clerk had been so quick to show me the door and discourage my viewing his work in front of him.

How to describe what I was looking at? Basically, he had taken the doll’s head and given it some wrinkles and gray hair. Apparently he had understood that noses and ears keep growing, and had extended the doll’s nose until she looked like a witch and her ears hung to her chin line. Discouraged, I threw it on the seat and turned the engine on.

The parking lot opened right onto the highway and I stepped on the gas, very anxious to get back now. I had spent too much time away from my duties, and for nothing. Up ahead the stoplight went to yellow, and I stepped on the brake. The pedal went down, but the car didn’t slow. As the car flew through the intersection, I looked ahead at the road and realized I was in big trouble.

CHAPTER 22

“OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD-THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING,” I said out loud, as if it would make any difference. I took my foot off the accelerator again, and again the car didn’t slow at all. I tried the brake, but the car just made an angry noise and kept roaring down the road. What was wrong with Adele’s Honda?

A picture flashed through my mind-a retreating figure in a hooded sweatshirt as I approached the car. I hadn’t paid enough attention to know if it was a man or a woman. Had that mysterious person done something to the car? I felt the pit of my stomach squeeze and started saying “Oh my God” again over and over out loud. I needed time to figure out what to do. Time I didn’t have at the moment. I was closing in on a yellow Ford Focus in front of me. I was going to hit it if I didn’t do something fast. I tend to be a cautious driver, not changing lanes unless there’s lots and lots of room. I glanced to my left, hoping for a big open space. No such luck: a black Cadillac was barreling along, catching up to me. Hoping for the best, I pulled in front of the fast-moving dark car.

I made it, but just barely. I heard the driver honking behind me and could only imagine what he was doing with his middle finger. The Ford became a yellow blur as I zoomed past it. I felt giddy at my momentary success.

The road sloped upward, but that barely slowed the car. Both sides of the road were bordered by giant Monterey pines, though I saw them as more of a green blur as I put all my attention on the road ahead. Someone must have heard me talking about getting the picture of the doll altered and figured out what it meant. So, I had been on the right track. A lot of good that was going to do me. I got it. Whoever had overheard me didn’t want me to make it back.

And unless I could figure out what to do, whoever was going to get his or her wish. The realization of what that meant hit me like a thud. Was this going to be the end for me?

Barry would blame himself. He’d think if only he hadn’t listened to me and had come anyway, nothing would have happened. Would he be the one to break the news to my sons? I felt my eyes fill with tears. I knew Peter would be okay, but I worried about my younger son, Samuel. And what about Mason? He’d blame himself, too.

I thought about my late husband. Would Charlie be waiting for me? I felt a momentary comfort. I knew he would. He’d hold out his hand and help me through the tunnel all the people who’d been dead and come back talked about. Charlie would help me to the light. But that wouldn’t help those I’d left behind.

Dinah would be heartbroken. Sheila would be sad. And Adele-the jury was still out. She’d probably inherit my job at the bookstore. My death would be chalked up as an accident. Sergeant French would give up and accept that Izabelle was alone on the beach. And her killer and mine would get away with it.