“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. No one here really got to know Kathleen or Jerry before all this happened. There’s no reason to believe in their innocence.”

“And everyone knew Allison. She was quite gregarious and so charming. She fit right in with all the various little groups here.

“Oh, there’s my husband. Do tell me you’ll come out with us. He’ll be so relieved not to have to go.”

“What time? And how long will we be gone?”

“We’re leaving around ten and we’ll be back before one-for a late lunch. Now tell me you’ll come.”

Susan made up her mind quickly. “I will.”

“Fabulous. We’re meeting on the beach. James is going to fit us all out with life vests and such.”

“I’ll be there.” The timing sounded just about perfect. That would give her a few hours to think about what Ro had just said. Susan would never have described Allison as gregarious. When she had visited her sister in Hancock, she had refused to socialize without Jerry or June by her side. In fact, Susan herself had tried a little matchmaking and been discouraged. Convinced Allison was just shy, she had given up. But this new Allison, thin and gorgeous, had also, apparently, had a personality transplant. She had jumped into the social waters of Compass Bay with enthusiasm.

It was time for Susan to do the same.

At least she had an opening line.

By the time Susan met the bridge foursome on the beach, she had spoken to the other three couples who had spent time with Allison.

Abandoning any pretense that she was doing anything other than investigating a murder, she used the same approach each time. “I’m trying to find out what happened to Kathleen. When was the last time you saw her?” she started by asking Joann and Martin.

Martin looked up from his bowl of oatmeal with a startled expression on his face. “Sorry? We thought everyone knew what had happened to her. She left the resort, didn’t she? Ran out on her husband.”

“Martin! We know nothing of the kind!” Joann spoke sharply. Susan noticed she was eating the macadamia nut pancakes with coconut syrup with a side order of pork bangers. In terms of calories and cholesterol, their two breakfasts were complete opposites. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Henshaw… Susan. My husband sometimes lacks tact. Of course, we are all shocked and concerned about the disappearance of your friend. I myself believe she was driven insane by the shock of learning that her husband is a murderer and she has done herself some dreadful harm. We’re on an island. Such an easy place to disappear.”

Susan reminded herself that she was investigating and that defending her friends wasn’t going to get her anywhere or help her learn anything new. “I can’t image Kathleen doing anything like that. She’s upset that her husband was wrongly accused of murder, but Kathleen was a police officer in New York City before her marriage. I don’t think there’s a whole lot that shocks her or could send her over the edge.”

“A police officer,” Martin said. “Amazing. She’s so sensational looking. Who would have guessed.”

Joann looked at her husband with such anger that Susan thought for a moment that she was going to strike him. “Good-looking women, Martin-if you call that anorexic scrawniness good-looking-are used as decoys. She probably spent her time on the police force dressed up as a hooker trying to attract johns.”

“Really?” Martin had a smile on his face. “Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that-at least, nothing I would admit to,” he said to Susan, raising his eyebrows over twinkling eyes.

Susan sincerely hoped Martin had time to enjoy his vices, whatever they were, since he seemed to be having a perfectly miserable vacation.

“Finish your cereal, Martin. You don’t want to become constipated again.”

Susan tried not to gasp at Joann’s hideous manners. “Did either of you see Kathleen yesterday?” she asked, getting back to her point.

“I saw her early in the morning,” Joann answered promptly. “She was getting into a taxi. I assumed she was going to town to shop or something rather than running away.”

“She wasn’t running away at that time, dear,” Martin said mildly. “I saw her later than you did.”

“When was that?” Joann asked as though such a thing wasn’t possible.

“When you were looking around the gift shop. Remember you asked me to return to our cottage and pick up that scarf you were hoping to match? I saw Mrs. Gordon go into her cottage. That must have been almost two hours later. If she was going to jump in the ocean, as you implied, dear, she hadn’t decided to do it then. She waved and smiled at me. She seemed quite perky.”

Susan realized that Kathleen must have just returned from seeing her husband.

“Playacting. She probably did a lot of that when she was on the force.”

Susan decided she wasn’t going to learn anything more by staying here. “Thanks. I don’t think Kathleen killed herself. But I am worried about her and I appreciate your help.”

“Anything we can do,” Martin assured her.

“I hope this breakfast isn’t going to take you all day,” Joann snapped, picking up her fork and impaling a sausage.

“I think not, dear. That’s one of the advantages of limiting one’s caloric intake.”

Susan hurried off. No need to hear Joann’s response if she could avoid it.

Frank and Peggy were almost finished with their meal when she found them. They were sitting on the patio, looking out to sea and not speaking.

“Do you mind if I interrupt?” Susan asked, walking up behind them.

Frank looked up. “Nothing to interrupt. We’re just having one of those wonderful intimate meals in which Compass Bay specializes.”

“So much for our second honeymoon,” Peggy said.

Susan just smiled awkwardly and asked her question. “You know my friend Kathleen is missing?”

“We do. We were just talking about that,” Frank began.

“Yes, the poor girl. It’s so different than our situation. We were able to heal and grow, develop personally even though Frank had done something so reprehensible. She apparently didn’t get the chance.”

“My wife believes Mrs. Gordon was murdered.”

“My husband believes she has killed herself in her grief over discovering her husband was unfaithful. I believe therapists refer to that as projecting. He thinks, no doubt, that I should have thrown myself into the sea upon discovering his unfaithfulness. I believe women are stronger than that and I believe I have proved it.”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with women being strong, or not being strong,” Susan said. “I’m worried that you’re right. I don’t think Kathleen was murdered, but I do believe some harm may have come to her. When was the last time you saw her? Do you remember?”

“Yesterday. Around lunchtime,” Peggy said positively.

“My wife is right about this one thing. We were walking by her cottage and she stuck her head out of the door. Said hello and stuck it back in again.”

“What do you mean, right about this one thing?” Peggy turned on him. “It just so happens that I’m frequently right about a lot of things. And it wouldn’t hurt you to admit it once in a while.”

Susan left without even bothering to thank the couple. She didn’t want to interrupt.