Gussie nodded. “While you were outside putting the plywood up I had calls from three people off-Cape in other parts of Massachusetts, and one person in Connecticut. Everyone’s worried. But there’s not much anyone can do right now.”

“The storm’s due Friday night, right?” said Will. “Assuming roads are passable, people driving should be able to get here Saturday afternoon. Flying will be the problem. Airports down south have been closing all week. A lot of flights have been delayed or cancelled, and there won’t be any flights into Boston Friday afternoon or night for sure. Schedules are going to be crazy.”

“If I were planning to fly here from Atlanta on Friday I’d be tempted to cancel now,” said Maggie. “I’ll bet rental cars will all be spoken for, too. Not to speak of hotel rooms.”

“At least anyone who can get to Winslow has rooms booked already,” said Gussie. “We can’t do anything about the storm except prepare for it and ride it out. And be glad it’ll be over by Saturday.” She paused. “I keep thinking of poor Cordelia. And Diana. Compared to murder, a storm and a few people missing a wedding, even if it is my wedding, are minor problems. Although I do hope Jim’s mother gets here. Despite all my complaints about her, she should be here.”

“Gussie, you’re a real trooper. I keep wondering what Jim and ­Diana are talking about, too,” said Maggie. “But right now we should get to your house and cover the windows there.”

The sun was shining and Hurricane Tasha seemed a far distant event as Will and Maggie managed to stabilize the sheets of plywood over the large picture windows. “This is a lot harder than the shop windows,” Maggie said as, her arms aching, she tried to hold the bottom of a board up as Will stood on a ladder and nailed the top of it above the windows.

“Sure is,” he admitted. “Remind me never to admire homes set this close to the ocean.”

“And this is just the Bay,” Maggie added, under her breath. “Think of what’s going on with buildings on the southern side of the Cape.”

“And in places in Maine like Old Orchard Beach, where storm surges usually go ashore,” Will added, hitting another nail forcibly into the plywood. “Let’s hope all this preparation isn’t necessary. I noticed a lot of trees on the way here with branches all too close to electric wires.”

Power outages. Flooding. Maggie suddenly thought of her home in New Jersey.

She lived closer to Pennsylvania than she did to the Atlantic Ocean, but if there were a bad storm, strong winds could take down trees. She hoped none of the tall maples or oaks in her yard would go down on her house. She went through a mental checklist. She hadn’t left anything outside that could be blown around dangerously. Her neighbors Jerome and Ian were looking after her cat, and they had her phone number. They’d call if there were any problems.

Maggie was about ready to call a time-out when Jim appeared around the corner of the house.

“You guys are the best! Time for a break, though. I’ve brought reinforcements.”

“Can’t say I mind that,” Will said, slamming in one more nail, and climbing down the ladder, leaving the piece of plywood they were working on swaying precariously.

Two other men joined Jim. “This is Andy, my legal partner and best man, and his brother, Mel. Meet Will Brewer from Maine, and Maggie Summer, maid of honor. And today, my two other right hands.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Will, shaking hands.

“We did a little boarding up at the office. Then Andy and Mel allowed me to volunteer them to help finish up here.”

“You bribed us,” said Andy. “Don’t forget, Jim. You owe us!”

“I do, indeed. Beer for all, once we’re finished here.”

“Where’s Diana?” Maggie asked. “And have you heard from your mother?”

“Diana’s with Gussie, in the house,” said Jim, “and Mother’s airborne, on her way to Providence. She found a series of connections that will get her in after midnight tonight, and by some miracle, got a hotel room there. Why don’t you and Will go ahead inside? Gussie’ll fill you in on the details. C’mon, guys. These two already have the job half-done. Maybe I only owe you half as much beer. Especially if it takes us twice as long to get the job done.”

Maggie and Will stretched and walked around the house, glad to be excused the rest of the task. The house was built higher than the dunes, and although the windows were on the first floor, covering them was not an easy job.

Gussie was making tea and Diana was pacing, looking out at the men setting the ladders up, when they got inside.

“Tea, Will? Cola?” Gussie asked.

“Do you have any brandy? Hot tea with brandy would go down really well right now,” he said, rubbing his hands together to warm them.

“You’ve got it,” Gussie said, as she moved quickly around her kitchen, clearly proud to be able to find everything exactly where it should be. “In fact, that sounds good to me, too. What about you, Diana? You’re twenty-one.”

“No, thanks. Plain tea for me, please. Jim said I’d better stay absolutely sober and rested in case Chief Irons decides he wants to ask me more questions.” Her eyes were still swollen, and her voice was strained.

“You’ve been to the police station?” Maggie asked, sitting down on a couch from Gussie’s former home that had now found a place near the fireplace.

“Yes. But Jim wouldn’t let me answer any questions. It was frustrating. I don’t have anything to hide! I had to sit there and keep my mouth closed.”

“What did Chief Irons ask you about?”

“Everything. Whether Dad and I had gotten along well, and when I’d found out he was still alive, and about the case my dad was supposed to testify about in Colorado. Why I’d come to Winslow, and how long I’d known Cordelia. Why she’d given me a gun.”

“Did Cordelia have a gun herself?”

Diana nodded. “I saw them in her room. She told me every woman living alone should have a gun.”

Maggie frowned. “Them? How many guns did she have?”

“I didn’t see exactly how many. They were under her bed, where she kept her doll supplies.” Diana looked embarrassed. “I shouldn’t have been in there. I knew she didn’t like her things disturbed. But I was curious. So one day when I knew she was out walking I went in and looked. She caught me. She was really angry.”

“And you asked her about the guns.”

Diana nodded. “I pointed at them and raised my shoulders, the way you do when you’re confused.”

“What did she do?”

“She took me by the arm and dragged me out of there and slammed the door. Then, later, she wrote me a note on her computer. She did that when she wanted to be sure I understood something. She said she had lived alone a long time and sometimes she got scared. She had the guns for protection. I told her I understood. Then a couple of days ago she told me she’d thought about it, and I should have a gun for protection, too. She gave me that little gun and told me to keep it with me, in my bedroom, and in my backpack. She showed me how it worked, and had me fire it a couple of times, out into the ocean when no one was around, so I’d know what it felt like. That’s all.”

Her fingerprints would be on the gun, and it had been fired recently, Maggie thought. But was it the same kind of gun that killed Cordelia?

“Did Cordelia ever say why you should be afraid?”

Diana shook her head. “She said life was unpredictable and unfair, and women had to take care of themselves.”

“Did you tell Jim all that?” said Maggie.

“Most of it,” said Diana. “But he didn’t want me to tell the police. He said we should wait and see what the forensic test results said first.”

“Then that’s what you should do,” said Maggie. “Can you think of anyone who would be angry with Cordelia?”

Diana shook her head. “She didn’t talk with many people. I mean, you know, see many people. She did business on eBay. She was frustrated sometimes that she couldn’t make herself understood.”