Susan grabbed her friend’s hand. “Shhhh!”

“I-”

“Shhh!” Susan repeated. “I thought I heard a sound downstairs!”

Kathleen clicked off her flashlight and froze.

“Could have been the wind. I’ll go down and check it out.”

“But-”

Susan had slipped down the stairs before Kathleen could finish. She was back in less than a minute.

“Can’t see anything and the door’s still closed. Must have been the wind or something outside.”

“Or someone outside.”

“Maybe someone who doesn’t want to be seen any more than we do.”

“Maybe someone looking for something,” Kathleen said, returning to her search through Allison’s drawers.

Susan went into the bathroom and looked through the prescription bottles scattered among the expensive cosmetics before returning to the bedroom.

“Learn anything?” Kathleen was going through a pile of bikinis on the dresser top.

“Nothing interesting. Allison had some sleeping problems, took lots of vitamins, and was on hormone replacement therapy.”

“Nothing interesting,” Kathleen agreed, sweeping the pile of swimsuits back into the drawer. “Too bad Allison didn’t keep a diary telling us all about her life.”

“I can’t believe it.”

Kathleen turned and discovered Susan standing by the bed, the drawer to the nightstand open, a leather-bound book in her hand. “What’s that?”

“I think it’s that diary you were yearning for.” She directed the light onto the book and flipped through the pages. “And it looks like she’s been writing in it daily ever since January first.”

“Sensational!” Kathleen paused a moment. “I think I hear something outside again. Grab that diary and let’s get out of here.”

Susan nodded, tucked the book inside of her shirt, and the two women hurried down the stairs, across the first floor, and out the door, running right into James and his female companion.

“Oh!” Susan felt the diary slip southward. “Hi. We’re-we-”

“We were just looking around,” Kathleen said. “And now we’re done. Good night.” She grabbed Susan’s arm and pulled her back toward their own cottages.

“I-yes, good night,” Susan called out, clutching her midriff and holding on to the book. “Boy, do you have a lot of nerve!” she whispered to her friend. “I’d probably still be back there trying to explain what we were doing if you hadn’t just brazened it out.”

“They were glad we didn’t hang around. They had no business being there, either.”

“Oh.” Susan turned and looked back at the row of two-story cottages. “Good point. I hadn’t thought of that. Oh, hurry. Let’s get inside.”

“What?”

“Just go!”

“What was all that about?” Kathleen asked, as Susan carefully closed the door to her cottage behind them.

“Someone was standing on the balcony of the Parkers’ cottage, looking at us through a pair of binoculars.”

“Oh, no. Who was it?”

“I have no idea. Whoever it was seemed to be wearing one of those white terry cloth robes that hang in all the bathrooms here. It’s a pretty good disguise. One person wearing one in the dark looks pretty much like the next person.”

“That’s true.”

“Maybe they didn’t recognize us.”

“We did come straight back to your cottage,” Kathleen reminded her. “Whoever’s up there could make a pretty intelligent guess.”

Susan frowned. “Oh, well, nothing we can do about that now. Besides, maybe this will tell us who killed Allison.” She pulled the notebook from beneath her shirt.

“Great.”

“Hey, I was wondering where you two had vanished to.” Jed walked out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist and a comb in his hand. “I asked around and no one had seen you since dinnertime.”

“Did you get something to eat?” Susan asked, reverting to concerned wife.

“How’s Jerry?” Kathleen asked, feeling the same thing. “Oh, my goodness, I was supposed to bring him dinner!”

“He’s fine. We had dinner together. The food wasn’t as good as it is here, but there was a lot of it. His biggest problem is boredom.”

“Boredom?” Kathleen asked.

“Yes. The lawyer we hired has Jerry writing out everything he can remember about Allison. I thought Jerry would object, but he seemed delighted to have something to do.”

“I wonder if we could get a copy of whatever he writes,” Susan said.

“We could ask.” Jed had pulled the robe off the wall hook and was slipping into it as he spoke. “Kath, the lawyer-his name is Jude Armstrong-wanted to talk to you as soon as possible. I suggested breakfast tomorrow. At seven. That’s when the restaurant opens,” he added somewhat sheepishly. “I know I shouldn’t make appointments for you, but he wanted to see you before he visits Jerry and-”

“No, I’m glad you did. I’ll ask for a wake-up call.”

“That’s right. You’ll be up late tonight reading,” Susan said, going over to her side of the bed and picking up a paperback with a bright cover and a clever title. “You wanted to borrow this, remember?” She gave Kathleen the book along with Allison’s diary. “It’s a real page-turner.”

“But don’t you want to read it first?” Kathleen asked.

“No. I’m going to go to bed. I’ll get it back in the morning. Okay?”

“First thing in the morning,” Kathleen agreed.

TWENTY-TWO

Susan slept badly that night, rolling around searching for a comfortable spot in bed, flipping her pillow so many times that Jed, the mildest of husbands, finally protested and threatened to find a comfortable lounge outside for her to sleep on. Susan had gotten up, showered, and returned to bed only to fall into a deep sleep.

When she woke up, the sun was shining through the louvers over the windows and Jed was gone. She could hear the cheerful voices of people strolling by on their way to breakfast. She sat up. Breakfast! Kathleen! The diary! Susan slipped from the bed and hurried to the bathroom. Ten minutes later, she discovered Jed in the process of demolishing a large omelet and plantain fries.

“Want some coffee?” he asked, pulling back a chair for his wife.

“Yes. And food. What’s that?”

“Crab omelet. Fabulous. I highly recommend it.”

“Then that’s what I’ll have-with fruit,” she said to the waitress who had appeared by their table.

“Can’t beat the service here,” Jed mused as their waitress hurried off to the kitchen with his wife’s order.

“One of the things people keep saying is that everyone on the island-the natives-wants to work here and that they work very hard to keep their jobs once they have them.” Susan frowned.

“You look like you just had an idea,” her husband said.

“I did.” Susan didn’t bother to explain. “Have you seen Kathleen this morning?”

“Yes, she and Jerry’s lawyer were just leaving as I arrived for breakfast. They were going off to see Jerry. She said to tell you that she’ll be back as soon as possible and that she left the beach bag in her cottage for you.” He rummaged through the pockets of his shorts and then handed her a key. “She said to give you this.”

“The key to her cottage.”

Jed shrugged. “I guess so. But you are going to hang around long enough to eat, aren’t you?”

Susan was dying to see what was in the diary she had discovered last night, and she was pretty sure that Kathleen had read it and left it in Allison’s beach bag back at her cottage. But they were on vacation, Jed had looked lonely sitting all alone, and, besides, she was starving. “Of course,” she answered, smiling at him.

“Then I’m going to have another cup of coffee and chat with my wife.”

Susan’s smile vanished. “It hasn’t been a great vacation, has it?”

“Not quite what we planned. I keep wondering what’s going to happen if we have to go home before Jerry is cleared.”

Susan leaned across the table, trying to prevent their conversation from being overheard. “Jed! We couldn’t leave him here!”