Leonard turned fuchsia and looked as if he were going to pass out. Natalie almost laughed, marveling that someone as proper as Leonard, a mortician no less, had ever married the egregious Loretta, especially in his line of business. The only answer must be love, she decided. A great deal of love.
Loretta took her Opium-scented self over to another group while Leonard drooped back to the door. Natalie wondered if he'd ever walked jauntily, or had trudged solemnly even in the days of his youth, practicing for the time when he would inherit the family undertaking business.
"I didn't think she'd ever leave."
Lily stood beside her. She wore a dark blue long-sleeved dress and had skinned back her gleaming blond hair with a bow at her neck. She'd lost weight and with no makeup or jewelry, she'd also lost her glamour. Even her hazel eyes lacked their usual sparkle. Natalie felt a wave of pity and pushed down the treacherous doubts she had had earlier in the day about her best friend.
"Loretta is never at a loss for words," Natalie said, "but she means well."
"She's a sweetheart. Tactless but a sweetheart. She doesn't approve of the casket blanket I chose, but Tam loved pink and white carnations. Simple and unassuming." She rolled her eyes. "I sound like Warren talking about wine."
"No, Warren would have used words like piquant, impertinent, imposing, provocative." Lily grinned with a trace of her usual mischievous self. "Where is your father?" Natalie asked.
"He fell apart when we first came in. Viveca took him into a back room and I was sent away."
Bitterness edged her voice. Natalie had thought Lily resented Viveca because she was so different from Grace Peyton. Now she wondered if Lily might be jealous because Viveca had become so important to Oliver. Lily liked responsibility. She liked having her father and her sister lean on her. Now Tam was gone and Oliver had turned to Viveca, who would do everything she could to control him. It seemed to be working. He depended on her more and more. Natalie knew this would not have happened to her father. Andrew St. John would never let someone dominate his life.
"Please tell me Alison isn't here," Natalie murmured.
Lily shook her head. "Wish I could oblige. She's swathed in black, and I do mean swathed. She came in wearing a black lace mantilla on her head. She looks like something from the nineteenth century."
"Ariel Saunders?"
"Good call. She's definitely playacting."
Natalie lowered her voice to a whisper. "Are you getting any sense that she might have been responsible for Tam's death?"
Lily's eyes darkened with fury at the thought, but she hesitated. "I honestly can't say. She doesn't look or act guilty, but then she looks and acts so weird all the time, who could tell? I'm keeping an eye on her, though. I hope you will, too, when she finally emerges from seclusion with Viveca and my father. In the meantime, I'd better circulate. Looks like this dreadful little ceremony has been dropped in my lap."
"I see the Keatons coming in. I'll handle them. She'll want to go over every death in her family for the past twenty years."
"As if we haven't heard it all before. And there's Miss Ginsler. Can you believe she's still teaching second grade? I'm sure she was at least eighty when we were in her class."
Natalie grinned. "She's in a time warp. She's always been eighty. And a grouch. She couldn't bear me. She sent a note home to my father saying she thought I'd be in prison before I graduated from high school."
"You almost proved her right when you freed all those lab frogs when we were in high school." Lily smiled. "I'll handle her. Then I'm rousting out Dad, Viveca or no Viveca."
Half an hour later a gray-faced Oliver Peyton nodded solemnly to a few mourners. Loretta had dragged Viveca away from him to admire the flower tributes. Alison sat like a cold, sharp ice sculpture about two feet from the coffin.-She watched it narrowly as if any moment she expected the lid to snap open and Tamara to pop up bursting with life. Was it fantasies or guilt that made her so vigilant? Natalie wondered.
Sheriff Meredith walked in. He still wore his uniform and he was the tallest man in the room. Voices quieted. People stared. Alison went rigid. Viveca's lips parted in either distress or surprise. Natalie strolled toward him. "You've dazzled your audience."
"So I see." He looked around self-consciously. "What's wrong? Have I sprouted horns? Grown fangs?"
"A lot of people immediately act guilty around the police even when they've never broken the law in their lives. I'm not so sure that can be said of this crowd. See anyone who looks suspicious?"
He smothered a smile and played along. "So far everyone looks like they have something to hide. Have you picked up on anything?"
"I'm afraid not. Except for Alison. She's the one in the front row with long blond hair and yards of black cloth. She's acting very strange, but as Lily pointed out, Alison always acts strange. I thought Oliver was going to lurk in the back room throughout the festivities, but Lily dragged him out."
"Is Warren 's family here?"
"I caught a glimpse of his stepmother, I haven't seen his father. Apparently he only came to Port Ariel to see what he could find out about Warren 's death. I think he's showing terrible manners by not putting in an appearance tonight, but I don't think Richard Hunt gives a damn about manners. He certainly doesn't fit the stereotype of the mousy accountant."
"Who's that beautiful blond woman who keeps looking at Alison?"
"Her mother Viveca. I'm sure she's glad Alison isn't throwing one of her tantrums, but the statue act is almost as unnerving."
A look of reluctance passed over Nick's strong features. "I should offer my condolences to the Peytons."
"Yes. They're both staring at you."
"Be right back."
Neither Lily nor her father smiled at the sheriff. Natalie knew Lily didn't care for him-she liked Sheriff Purdue's down-home demeanor. Oliver Peyton liked Purdue because he was a puppet. Nick Meredith was no one's puppet.
Loretta was bearing down on Nick as he walked back to Natalie "Is there somewhere we can talk?" he asked suddenly. "Somewhere private?"
Loretta struck. "Sheriff Meredith!" She beamed, showing her perfect teeth. "I've been wanting to meet you. Loretta Leery. I voted for you!"
"Thank you," Nick said awkwardly.
"Loretta, is the back room empty?" Natalie asked.
"Need a cigarette?"
"I don't smoke," Natalie said, then could have bitten her tongue for fumbling the perfect excuse. "I need to sit down. My shoes are too tight; my feet hurt."
"Right this way," Loretta answered, then glanced back in surprise as Nick followed them. "Do your feet hurt, too?"
"Uh, I thought you might have some coffee back there. I've been going since five this morning."
"Oh, you poor thing!" Loretta exclaimed loudly. People looked again. "Why, of course we have coffee. And some doughnuts and Danish. The pastries were my idea. Leonard didn't approve, but I said, 'Leonard, people need a little boost to get them through ordeals like this.' And do you know that we received nothing but compliments on the addition of food? Sometimes I do have a good idea. I just have trouble making Leonard come around to my way of thinking. Well, here we are. Coffee, food, and the freedom to smoke."
"Thank you, Loretta," Natalie said as the woman hovered at the door. "We'll just be a few minutes."
"Take as long as you like." Loretta gave her an exaggerated wink of conspiracy indicating she knew Natalie's real intention was to get the handsome young widower alone. Natalie felt color tingeing her cheeks. Loretta the perpetual matchmaker. Naturally she would interpret the situation romantically. "Just relax, you two. Everything is in control out front, and it's very private in here."
She fluttered her fingers in farewell and rushed down the hall, no doubt to tell Leonard that something was going on with Natalie and Sheriff Meredith. It couldn't be helped and really didn't matter, Natalie told herself, although she hoped Nick hadn't been as aware of Loretta's sly looks and innuendoes as she had been.
Nick was
already drawing coffee from the big urn. Natalie felt if she had any caffeine, she might shoot right through the roof. Her nerves tingled.
"Okay, what is it?" she demanded. "Don't tell me someone else has been murdered."
He looked at her in surprise. "No. Sorry I scared you. I just wanted to talk to you. Hysell has an interesting theory about the connection among the murders."
"Hysell? Ted Hysell?"
"Yes. Don't look so shocked. He has more on the ball than I thought."
Natalie shrugged. "Will wonders never cease? What's his theory?"
"Do you remember Eugene Farley?"
Natalie took a deep breath. "He used to date Viveca Cosgrove. She was dating my father until she met him."
"Really?" Nick shook his head. "I didn't know about that."
"I was glad when Viveca stopped seeing Dad. Ever since her husband died she's gone through men like tissues. I was afraid he'd really fall for her and then she'd dump him. Well, she dumped him, but I don't think he felt anything serious about her." She frowned. "But you asked about Farley, not Viveca. Farley was head accountant at Bishop Corporation. He embezzled funds. He was tried and found guilty. Right after the trial he shot himself and died."
Nick sat down on a folding chair and took a sip of coffee, saying nothing. Natalie waited, then said impatiently, "I don't get Hysell's brilliant connection."
Nick looked at her. 'Think about it. Oliver Peyton was Farley's attorney, and he lost the case. Richard Hunt was the accountant who exposed Farley. Max Bishop owned the company Farley stole from. He could have fired Farley and let things slide, but he brought up Farley on charges. Now a daughter of Peyton, the son of Hunt, and the daughter of Bishop have been murdered."
"They are all children of people involved in the Farley case," Natalie said slowly.
"Right."
"My God." Natalie sat down on a folding chair beside him. "That can't be the connection. It's too farfetched."
"You'd chalk the connection among the victims to coincidence?"
"Saying it's a coincidence sounds just as far-fetched." Nat alie thought for a moment. "But, Nick, these three people had more in common than being children of people who knew Eugene Farley. They were involved in a love triangle."
"In a case involving a love triangle only one or two people are murdered. If there's a third death, it's a suicide. None of these was a suicide." Natalie's forehead creased in thought and her gaze grew far away. "Today I called Constance Farley, Eugene 's mother," Nick went on. "Her husband died just weeks after Eugene. She lived in Columbus at the time of the deaths, but six months ago she moved to Knoxville, Tennessee. I learned that tidbit from Ted, who is dating a woman who was involved with Farley."
"Good Lord, what an incestuous little town we are!"
Nick grinned. "I wouldn't go so far as to say incestuous, but it's hard for me to get used to all these relationships. I like it, though. It makes getting information easier."
"Who needs paid snitches when everyone knows everyone else's business and loves to talk about it? So what did you ask Mrs. Farley? If she'd been in Port Ariel slashing people's throats?"
"I tried something more subtle, but she got my meaning. She seemed shaky, but she told me she hadn't left Knoxville for months. She claimed she didn't know anything about the murders and she didn't want to know. She said, 'I just want to be left in peace.' "
"And you left her in peace."
"I didn't push it, but I called the Knoxville police and gave them the story. Very cooperative bunch down there. Two hours later they called back and told me they'd talked to Mrs. Farley's neighbors. Seems she's never been gone for even one day since she moved in almost six months ago."
"The neighbors have seen her every day?"
"Yeah. She has a dog and walks it rain or shine."
"How about when they can't see her? She could have come up here at night."
"It's approximately a sixteen-hour drive from Knoxville to here."
"She could fly."
"I thought of that, but the Knoxville police also told me Constance doesn't have a driver's license, which eliminates car rental. She'd have to fly into Cleveland and take a commuter flight to Port Ariel. The commuter flight schedules don't fit. She couldn't leave Knoxville at night and be back early the next day."
"You are thorough." Natalie tapped her fingers on her cup. "So Constance Farley hasn't been running back and forth to kill people in Port Ariel?"
"Seems not, and the Knoxville cops found the idea a stretch. I joked along with them, but I felt like a fool for suggesting it. When you say it, it does sound crazy, but I can't ignore the connection of the victims' parents with Eugene Farley, much as I hate to give up on the idea that Lily or her father had something to do with the double homicide." He paused. "You look uncomfortable. What is it?"
"This morning someone pulled another prank." She told Nick about the call from a woman claiming to be Lily and her meeting with Jeff Lindstrom. "You're going to ask if the voice on the machine sounded like Lily's," she said. "I saved the message and played it back twice. It's close, but it isn't Lily's voice. The enunciation and pace are right but not the quality."
"Did it sound like the voice you heard in The Blue Lady?"
"Yes, only more breathy."
"So you went where the voice asked you to go and you ran into Jeff Lindstrom, who'd been hanging around for hours and who asked you a lot of questions and acted like he might do something to you. Maybe he has more to do with this than we guessed."
"You think he could be the murderer? What does he have to do with Tam, Charlotte, and Warren?"
"Maybe Charlotte is the key. Maybe there was something between them before she came back here."
"She threw over Jeff for Warren? Well, that could explain him killing Charlotte and Warren, but why Tam?"
"I don't know. I'm just throwing out possibilities."
"What about my anonymous calls and the incident at The Blue Lady?"
Nick's face had turned tired and grim. "The voice on the phone and in The Blue Lady sounded like Tamara's. It couldn't have been Lindstrom unless he electronically altered his voice."
"I don't know how that works."
"It's fairly easy to come by the devices you need. Or he might have gotten someone to make the calls for him. How long did you walk on the shoreline before you went to the pavilion?"
"Around twenty minutes."
"If Lindstrom was watching you, that would have given him plenty of time to make a call on a cell phone and get someone to the pavilion."
"How could he know I'd go to The Blue Lady?"
"He could have lured you there-done something to set off the dog so she'd follow him and hoped you'd go inside. Hell, maybe he knew you actually used to go in there and might not be afraid."
"How could he know that?"
"He learned it from the woman who's making these calls for him, someone who's involved with him, someone who knows you."
"Nick, he hasn't been in town long enough to get seriously involved with anyone."
"We don't know how often he's been in this town, Natalie. This doesn't have to be his first visit."
"I guess you're right. Then there's the earring."
"Are you sure it was Tamara's?"
"If it's not hers it's one exactly like it and what are the chances of that? Two years ago I gave Lily and Tamara earrings for their birthday. Lily's had amethysts in a modern bezel setting. Tam's were the old-fashioned filigree." She reached in her pocket and withdrew the earring wrapped in a tissue. "The back is gone. Also, Jimmy handled it, so there probably aren't any good fingerprints."
"You never know," Nick said, holding up the earring by the post. The small amethyst glittered in the light. "I'll check to see if Tamara was wearing only one earring. Some killers take trophies from their victims, you know."
"That would explain him carrying it around."
Nick stood. "I think I need to have a talk with Mr. Lindstrom." He set his Styrofoam cup down
beside the coffee urn. "I'll call you tomorrow and tell you what I found out. I also need to talk to Viveca Cosgrove and Oliver Peyton."
"Why?"
"Farley stole the money, because he wanted Viveca back. Peyton was his lawyer. They both have daughters who need to be careful."
"Do you really think this person might go after Alison and Lily?"
"Yes, I do." He paused. "Natalie, Farley didn't die immediately from the shot to the head. He was taken to the hospital. He died while your father was performing surgery, surgery someone claimed your father botched." He gave her a long, penetrating look. "And Andrew St. John has a daughter, too."
Andrew and Ruth arrived only minutes after Nick left. Andrew wore the haggard look that meant he'd done several surgeries. Ruth was bright-eyed and stylish in dark green and pearls.
"Sorry I'm late, honey," Andrew said to Natalie. "Harder day than I expected."
"That's all right. Even Oliver delayed his appearance."
"I thought I saw the sheriff in the parking lot," Ruth offered. "Has he learned anything else about the case?"
"I don't think so," Natalie said vaguely. Now was certainly not the time to go into Ted Hysell's theory about the connection among the victims. "He just stopped by as a courtesy. He'll probably come to the funeral, too. Come say a few words to Lily, Dad. She's not in good shape."
Andrew might have disapproved of Lily through the years, but he was all gentle concern tonight. Oliver did not unbend, looking at Andrew as if he'd never seen him before.
Viveca rushed over. Natalie cringed inwardly, but her father showed no emotion. Viveca might have bewitched Eugene Farley and Oliver Peyton, but apparently she had little effect on Andrew St. John. He introduced her to Ruth, and Natalie smiled inwardly as she noticed Viveca's blue eyes sweep over Ruth, quickly calculating the cost of her clothes and deciding whether the pearls were real. Ruth was probably ten years older than Viveca, but she held her own in the style department. Ruth looked calm and secure as she talked quietly with mourners. The woman had class, Natalie thought appreciatively. She also seemed to have made quite a few friends during her short time in Port Ariel, judging by the familiar way she talked to many of the guests.
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