“Did she have any special friends in town that you knew of?”

Diana shook her head slowly. “People came after Dad died, like you and Gussie did. They brought food, or flowers. Before that, Chief Irons’s wife came over once. I’d been out on the beach. I came back and found her upstairs in Dad’s room. She said she was looking for Cordelia, and came in because she knew Cordelia couldn’t hear her knocking. I thought that was weird because everyone who visits knows about the light system. Anyway, she left as soon as I got there. She didn’t wait for Cordelia.”

“Did you tell Cordelia she’d been there?”

Diana nodded. “Cordelia was really mad. She said we had to remember to lock the doors when we went out so no animals would get in.” Diana smiled. “I remember because I thought that was funny. And Rocky Costa, the man who works at the Lazy Lobster, he called Cordelia sometimes. She got text messages a couple of times, but she grabbed her phone fast and gave me one of her looks. Like I shouldn’t touch it. But I saw the messages were from him. Once I saw him out on the beach with her. He was signing, like you do. But I don’t remember anyone else. People left food or flowers. They didn’t stay. I think they felt uncomfortable because Cordelia couldn’t hear them.”

“You may be right,” said Maggie. “Do you think Mrs. Irons was looking for something in your dad’s room?”

“There wasn’t anything to find. I looked through everything when he didn’t come home. I kept thinking I’d find a clue to where he’d gone. Or why he’d left. But there were just clothes. It was as though he used his room like a hotel room.” Diana looked up. “I kind of hoped he’d kept a picture of me, or my mother. Something to remember his old life. But there was nothing. So if Mrs. Irons was looking for something, I don’t know what it was.”

Or, thought Maggie, whatever it was had already disappeared.

“Time for those beers you owe us, Jim!” Andy and the others came in, flexing their muscles. “You’re safe from the storm now, Gussie, and this man of yours promised us beer as a reward.”

“It’s in the refrigerator, right over there.” Gussie pointed. “Help yourselves. There are chips on the counter. Sorry we’re not equipped to offer you more sustenance right now. Another week or so and we’ll be totally organized.”

“That’s my optimistic bride,” said Jim, giving her a kiss. “One week until we have all our cartons unpacked, the kitchen cabinets full, and life totally organized? Nice thought, my love. You hang on to that.”

Gussie asked him quietly, “Is Ike going to let Diana go back to her house tonight?”

Jim shook his head. “It’s a crime scene, and going to be that way for a while, I suspect, with storm preparation taking up police resources. I think he was tempted to find some reason to arrest her—at minimum, she didn’t have a license to carry the gun she had—but I convinced him I’d keep an eye on her.”

“Which means?” Gussie arched her eyebrows.

“Is it okay if she stays here tonight? I’d have to stay, too. It wouldn’t look good if only she and I stayed at my house, and I don’t feel comfortable with a murder suspect, even one we believe is innocent, staying here alone with you. Plus, I promised to keep her close.”

Gussie looked at him.

“I know, I know. This isn’t what we planned.”

Gussie nodded. “But she’s alone, and she needs us. Understood. It’s all right. She’s welcome. But there’s nothing set up in the guest bedroom right now. You get the guys to put the bed together. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Jim reached down and squeezed her shoulder. “Love you. Forty-eight hours to go before we prove it to the world.”

“And, Jim. One more thing. I don’t care where she is tonight. But promise me she’s gone before our wedding night,” Gussie said.

“Promise,” said Jim. “Don’t you worry about that!”

“Diana,” said Gussie, calling her over. “Jim says you can’t go back to your house tonight. We’d love to have you stay here with us, in our guest room.”

“But you’ve got so much to do for the wedding. And that room isn’t set up,” said Diana.

“A mere detail,” said Jim. “It won’t take long to set up a bed.”

“You and Maggie packed the sheets and blankets. See if you can dig some out of the cartons; they have to be unpacked some time anyway. That room has its own bathroom, so you’ll have some privacy,” Gussie pointed out.

“Thank you,” said Diana. “I’d much rather stay here than go back to that house by myself anyway. At least tonight.”

“Then that’s settled,” said Jim. “Don’t drink too much of that beer, guys. We have one more chore to take care of. Diana here needs a bed put together.”

“I’ll find you a T-shirt and sweats to sleep in,” said Gussie. “Come on, Maggie. Let’s get Diana organized before we all collapse after this day. Tomorrow night is the bachelorette party, you know!”

“Is that still on?” Maggie asked.

“Oh, yes.” Gussie rolled her eyes. “Did I forget to tell you? This morning Sheila called to say she’d put everything she needed in her car and was heading for the Cape today so she’d be sure to get here before they closed the bridges. She was actually very excited that the party might take place at the same time as the hurricane hit. She said that would ‘heighten the atmosphere.’”

“Not sure that’s what you want during a hurricane,” said Maggie, “but…okay.”

“You’re having a bachelorette party tomorrow night?” said Diana. “During the storm? What fun!”

“You come too,” said Gussie. “Why not? I suspect not everyone who’s invited will make it, and you’ve been a big part of this last week. You should be here for the whole celebration.”

“I’d love to be there!” said Diana. “You’ve all been so wonderful to me! I feel as though you’ve adopted me in the past week.”

Adopted her? Maggie felt her cheeks redden as Gussie glanced at her with raised eyebrows. That was an interesting word for Diana to use. With everything else going on, she’d done a good job of repressing how to broach the whole subject of adoption with Will.

But it was still out there. He might not know it, but Hurricane Tasha wasn’t the only storm ahead.

No wonder she was focused on finding a murderer. Murders were simple compared with relationships.

Chapter 31

South Boston Horse Railroad Depot, Summer Street. A wood engraving by Alfred Waud, 1859, showing a church in the background and an elegantly dressed couple waiting as three horse-drawn “railroad cars” meet at the depot. The cars resemble trolleys, their metal wheels fitting on tracks in the road, but each pulled by two horses. This horse railroad and another between Boston and Cambridge opened in 1856, replacing the omnibus (stagecoach) providing transportation before then, “proof of the progressive spirit of the day.” South Boston, sometimes referred to as “Southie” by those who’ve lived there, was for many years the center of Boston’s Irish community. 7 x 10 inches. Price: $60.

Two hours later Maggie and Gussie were alone. Andy and Mel had gone home, and Will, Jim, and Diana had gone in search of pizza for dinner.

“Not bad,” Gussie said, surveying the house. “The plywood covering the windows kills the view, but in the past couple of hours with everyone’s help we’ve gotten another room set up.”

“Gussie, before the others get back with the pizza. Do you know Ike Irons’s wife well?”

“Annie Irons. Not well. Why? She comes into my store once in a while to buy mechanical banks for her sister’s husband. He collects them. She seems nice enough, but I doubt she has twenty cartons of books in her garage like we do, if you know what I mean.”

“I remember you said she and Ike weren’t from here.”

Gussie shook her head. “They’re Massachusetts people, but not from Winslow. I think maybe Annie’s from South Boston.” She looked inquiringly at Maggie. “Why all the questions?”