Jed placed an arm around his wife’s shoulders and gave her a quick hug. “You read my mind.”

“Nothing like thirty years of practice,” she said, grinning.

“So thirty years is what it takes,” Kathleen muttered.

Susan and Jed exchanged looks. “Why don’t you go on back to the kitchen alone? You can order Jerry’s dinner and check to see if his lunch is ready at the same time,” Susan suggested to her friend.

“I spoke with a woman named Sissy when I called, so you might look for her,” Jed added.

“Got it. I’ll be back in a few.”

“How’s she holding up?” Jed asked, watching Kathleen walk away.

“I don’t know. We had a long conversation about June. Jerry hadn’t talked much about her, and Kathleen was curious.” They had come to the large coral stone retaining wall, and the Henshaws leaned against it and looked out to sea. “I hadn’t thought about June in years,” she continued, watching as the honeymooning couple horsed around in a two-man kayak.

“Not surprising. Kathleen is a better friend-and probably a better wife-than June ever was.”

Susan’s mouth dropped open, and she looked over at her husband, astonished. “Didn’t you like her?”

“Not really.”

“I can’t believe it. Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“What good would that have done? Anyway, she was married to Jerry. It didn’t really matter how I felt about her.”

Susan was astounded. “I had no idea!”

“Well, you two were such good friends. I thought saying anything would be inappropriate.”

“But you like Kath.”

“Of course I do. I’m crazy about her. And so is Jerry.”

“Were Jerry and June having problems with their marriage when she died?”

“You’d probably know more about that than I would. Jerry and I don’t talk about our marriages as a rule.”

“June didn’t talk to me like that. We weren’t particularly close.”

It was Jed’s turn to be surprised. “Susan…”

“I don’t think I realized it at the time, Jed…”

“Susan…”

“And I still miss the kids…”

“And maybe you don’t want to talk about this right now. We could be overheard. And considering the situation…”

Susan looked around. The newlyweds had fallen overboard and were enthusiastically dunking each other. A man was sunning himself on a float in the middle of the swimming pool, and half a dozen other guests were lounging on the patio. The bridge players had resumed their tournament, and as Susan watched, Ro became the dummy and got up and walked around to examine her partner’s hand. “Jed, have you ever played cards with Jerry before today?”

“Of course. Sometimes there’s a game going on in the locker room at the club. A bunch of us get together for golf and have to kill time until we can tee off. You know how it is.”

She didn’t, but she nodded anyway.

“Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. I was just wondering about the two couples that play bridge. Why would they come to a gorgeous place like this and just sit around and play cards? Couldn’t they do that at home?”

“Sure. But at home it’s cold and wet if not actually snowy. Here it’s warm, beautiful, and they can get a tan while they play. Why were you thinking about them?”

“I don’t know. I keep thinking that it’s odd that Jerry would mention card playing to you. Those two couples are the only thing I can think of that he might be talking about.”

“Maybe they saw something.”

“But that’s not what you said. You said that Jerry said to listen to what the cardplayers were saying.”

Jed shrugged. “I have no idea what he was talking about. Guess it’s up to you and Kathleen to figure that one out.”

“Just one of the small mysteries. Maybe if we find an answer to that one, we’ll be a bit closer to finding the murderer.”

NINETEEN

When people hailing from the same state meet in a foreign country, they usually spend some time discussing the locations of homes and the possibility of having acquaintances in common. Susan and Kathleen and Peggy and Frank Romeo initially followed this convention.

Peggy and Frank Romeo were from northwestern Connecticut, over sixty miles from Hancock. But the foursome did manage to discover three friends in common, as well as a fondness for the cheese soufflés served at the same country inn. Formalities over, they got down to business.

“We were really sorry to hear about your husband,” Frank said to Kathleen, brushing his red hair off his forehead. A tall, thin, and rather tired-looking man, he had done most of the talking. His wife, short, dark, and heavyset, had spent their time together quietly sipping her rum punch and smiling.

“Thank you,” Kathleen replied politely.

“We’re sure the police will discover that they’ve made a mistake soon and they’ll let him go,” Susan added.

“Some people here are saying that you have some experience investigating murder,” Frank said.

“Yes, I do,” Susan answered.

“So, of course, you are trying to help your friends,” he suggested.

“Yes.” Susan paused. “Kathleen and I thought that’s why you wanted to talk to us. Not that we don’t appreciate your sympathy…”

“And the cocktails,” Kathleen added, raising her gin and tonic to her lips.

“We did think you needed to relax,” Frank began.

“And we wanted to offer our support,” Peggy said. “Here you are, far from home, among strangers. This must be so distressing.”

Susan nodded. “It is. We need all the help we can get if we’re going to help Jerry.”

“That’s what we were thinking. It’s why we sent that note to your table at lunch,” Frank explained. “You see, we know something you don’t know.”

Susan almost giggled at the childish expression. “Something about Allison,” she guessed.

“And something about your husband,” Peggy added to Kathleen. “We think we know why he was arrested.”

“He was arrested because the police have made a terrible mistake,” Kathleen said.

“Oh, we don’t think he was guilty of murder,” Frank explained quickly. “We think he was guilty of love.”

“My husband believes-and I must say I have come to agree with him-that your husband was in love with Allison McAllister,” Peggy explained, reaching across the table and placing her hand on Kathleen’s forearm.

Kathleen shook off the caress and sat up straighter. “And exactly how did you get that impression?” she asked coldly.

“I can assure you that we didn’t make it up,” Peggy insisted.

“And we in no way want to distress you,” Frank added.

“You see, Allison herself told us,” Peggy answered.

“How did that happen? Were you sitting together and she saw Jerry and just said, ‘I’m in love with that man and he’s in love with me’?” Kathleen sounded furious.

“I’m afraid you need to explain more. We have to understand exactly how this all came up,” Susan pointed out.

“My husband was not in love with another woman,” Kathleen insisted, ignoring Susan.

Peggy reached out for Kathleen again and then, apparently thinking the better of it, put her hand around her glass. “I understand exactly how you are feeling. You see, about a year ago, my best friend came to me and told me that Frank was in love with someone else. I was shocked. I had had no idea. But before we go on, you should look at Frank and me. We’re here on our second honeymoon. Our marriage is stronger than ever. This could be the enlightening moment when you see your marriage for what it has become. And only by confronting reality can you change it. You and your husband will be just fine. I promise.”

“My husband is not in love with someone else,” Kathleen repeated.

“But-”

“Perhaps we should tell these women just why we’re saying this,” Frank said to his wife.

“That’s an excellent idea,” Susan agreed.

“I’d like another drink.” Kathleen drained her glass.

Frank Romeo was apparently one of those men who could demand instant attention from waiters and waitresses. One wave of his hand, a quick order, and less than five minutes later, everyone at the table was enjoying a fresh drink and Peggy began their story.