Will grimaced. “They go underground.”

“Exactly.”

“What does all this have to do with Diana and Cordelia?”

“That’s what I want to know.” Maggie hesitated. “But I’ve run out of places to look. I can’t exactly go up to someone and ask if they’re dealing in drugs.”

“Good. Glad you see it that way.” Will reached over and patted her knee.

“It would have to be someone who could be with the kids and not arouse any suspicion, right?”

“Right. But I thought you were concerned about Diana, and about the deaths of her father and her cousin. The boy at the high school who died last spring doesn’t have anything to do with them.”

“I’m not sure, Will. I have a feeling that somehow all three deaths are connected. I just don’t know how.”

“Maggie, be realistic. It’s about,” Will glanced at his watch, “one in the afternoon. What time do those parties start tonight?”

“Seven.”

“So at seven tonight you and I will be heading out, in the middle of a hurricane, let’s not forget, to attend separate parties. Which I certainly hope don’t run late, because I’m considerably over the age of eighteen and I don’t get a real thrill out of being out in a storm with a bunch of drunk guys I don’t know. Or of thinking of you out somewhere else with some crazy cousin of Gussie’s who thinks she’s a witch. Tomorrow morning there’ll be wedding preparations, and early tomorrow afternoon your best friend in all the world—which is how you usually refer to Gussie—is marrying someone who’s a pretty nice guy. Plus, Maggie, and I do not say this lightly, the man you love, who you are rarely even in the same state with, is here. Now. With you. A situation which will exist for only another, say, forty hours.”

“Are you trying to tell me something?” Maggie asked, trying to look innocent.

“Lady, sometimes you have your priorities really messed up.”

“Stop at the hardware store again. Please. I’ll be really fast. I promise.”

Will sighed. “Let me guess. You want to get some candles in case the electricity goes out tonight.”

“I was thinking of flashlights. But candles might have to do if they’re sold out of flashlights,” she said as he pulled in. She leaned over and kissed him lightly before opening the car door.

Winslow Hardware looked as though the storm had already hit. Most of the supplies she’d seen there earlier were gone. Few customers were in the aisles. She suspected everyone was hunkering down at home before the storm. Any supplies they didn’t have now they’d do without.

Bob Silva was behind the counter. “Maggie, we’re getting to be old friends. What have you forgotten? I’m afraid we’re out of most hurricane supplies.”

“Flashlights?”

“The large ones are gone. I still have a few small ones, over there.” He pointed at a display of camping gear.

Maggie selected a light so small the entire case fit in the palm of her hand. “Are these any good? I mean, will they light a path in the dark?”

“They’re not exactly torches,” said Silva, “and I wouldn’t try to read with one, but they’ll be better than nothing. People put those in glove compartments or pockets so they can see a map or find a keyhole.”

“I’ll take two,” she said, reaching for her wallet. “And I’ve been thinking about what you said about your son’s death. Would you mind if I talked to a couple of the other boys on his baseball team?”

Silva stopped making change. “I don’t think it’ll do any good, Maggie. Either those boys don’t know anything, or they won’t talk. Ike Irons tried several times last spring. And you’re not from here. Why would they trust you?”

Maggie shrugged. “They might not. But maybe they’d talk to me because I’m not from here. And the situation has changed since last spring. If Dan Jeffrey was involved, they might say something now that he’s dead. I’d like to try to talk with them. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“I’ll give you stubbornness, Maggie Summer. I hope this Hurricane Tasha isn’t as persistent as you are. I hear it’s made a mess of the Connecticut shoreline. Here.” Silva reached for a pad and scribbled down two names. “These are the names of two of my boy’s best friends. If any of the kids on the team talk, they would. When do you think you might try to see them?”

“Will they be at home this afternoon?”

Silva paused. “Likely. Everyone’s home today because of the storm. Schools let out at noon. I’m going to close up here at two o’clock. Tell you what. Those boys probably wouldn’t talk with their moms and dads hovering over them. But they’re kids. They like to eat. The pizza place in town is staying open until four o’clock. I just sold my last sandbags to the guy who owns it. Let me call their moms and tell them you’re here for Gussie’s wedding. You’re a college professor, right?”

Maggie nodded.

“I’ll tell ’em you’re doing research on the effects of drugs on kids. You’d like to talk to their boys about how they feel about what happened to Tony, and you’ll buy the boys pizza if they meet you at two o’clock. No moms or dads. Just half an hour with you, and the kids get pizza.”

“Bob, that’s a fantastic idea! I love it!”

“I don’t know if it’ll work. But I’ll try. Sean Jacobs and Josh Sewall. Be at the pizza place at two o’clock and we’ll see if they show. Give me your cell number. If both families say ‘no way,’ I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you; thank you so much,” said Maggie, scribbling down her number.

“No one’s asked about Tony in months,” said Bob Silva. “You care. I don’t know why. But you do. If you can find out anything, I want to help. Let’s hope your idea works. If it doesn’t?” He shrugged. “Nothing ventured.” He turned. “I’ll make those calls now.”

Will didn’t look happy when Maggie got back to the car. “I was about ready to come in after you.”

“I got flashlights for us, for tonight,” said Maggie, showing him her purchases.

He picked one up. “Not exactly super-strength, are they?”

“They were the only lights left. A couple of hours before a hurricane you don’t have a lot of choices.”

“Not surprising,” said Will. “And now, back to Six Gables?”

“Yes,” said Maggie. “But I’m going to have to go out for a short time in about half an hour.”

“Where are we going then?” asked Will, his voice very calm. “More sleuthing?”

“Just me this time,” said Maggie. “I’m going to meet with one or two of the boys who played baseball with Tony Silva, the boy who overdosed last spring.”

“You’re what?” said Will. “I thought we were going to have a quiet afternoon. Resting. Spending time together. Saving our strength for the craziness of whatever this evening brings.”

“We will! I promise. You’ll just start your rest a little before I start mine. I won’t be long. The boys are only going to be at the pizza parlor for half an hour. That’s what we’ve promised their parents.”

“Who’s this ‘we’?”

“Bob Silva is calling their parents now, trying to convince them to talk with me.”

“And, let me guess. You’re bribing them with the pizza.”

“They’re teenagers. Of course I am.”

Will didn’t answer. He turned the key in the ignition, and headed the car back to the B&B.

The silence in the car would have been even denser if it hadn’t been for the winds that were picking up and swirling leaves and small branches on the roads and lawns. A few larger branches had already fallen. Will swerved around one that blocked part of the road.

When he pulled into the parking lot at Six Gables he turned to her. “Maggie, I don’t want you to go. The roads are getting worse.”

“I told you, Will. I’ve already made plans. I won’t be gone long. This is important.”

“More important than listening to me? More important than being with the man you love?”

“I love you, Will. You know that.”

“If you love me, why don’t you ever listen to me?”

“I do listen to you.”