Warren gently moved her arm. She didn’t stir. He smiled. Sleep, my beautiful prize.
He dressed by the one dim light they’d left on. Glancing in the mirror he decided he looked like hell—bloodshot eyes, dark circles, deepened lines in his forehead. Warren was usually vain about his appearance, but now he was glad he looked ragged. After all, he was supposed to be the grieving widower.
He glanced at Charlotte one last time. She hadn’t moved. Colossal headache tomorrow, he thought. Maybe that would keep her too occupied to make any more unwise phone calls to his house.
He left the bedroom and went up to the beautifully appointed saloon. Saloon. The word had always seemed foolish to him, conjuring up images from Gunsmoke. Miss Kitty should be lurking somewhere ready to flirt with Marshal Dillon. Nevertheless, people were insistent on using the correct terms, like saloon for what would be called the living room, galley for kitchen, port and starboard for left and right. Nonsense.
He paused. Was that a shadow passing by one of the windows looking out onto the walk-around deck? He rushed to the glass and looked out. The deck was empty. The boat beside the Charlotte was lighter and rocked while the Charlotte remained nearly motionless. Moonlight played over the water. That’s all he’d seen—a cloud passing across the moon. He took a deep breath. He was being paranoid, thinking that Meredith had people everywhere. He had to stop jumping at shadows, literal or otherwise. The appearance of innocence was essential.
Warren crept forward. Twenty minutes and he’d be home. He had rarely looked forward to being at home in the past. How many nights had he lain beneath one of Tamara’s quilts with her rolled into a tight ball, just like her inhibited little psyche, and felt himself breaking into a sweat, the sweat of panic at the thought that this was the rest of his life? Hundreds of times. But now that bed seemed like the safest place in the world. That was where he should be, where he wanted to be if Sheriff Meredith should come looking.
Warren passed through the formal dining room and went up on deck. Cool air wafted over him. Some of the fuzziness left his head. Even his vision seemed clearer. In the distance a small bell clanged into the night. Nearby a board creaked.
He whirled around with the sharp, blinding awareness that something horrible waited for him in the chill darkness. His hands shot out blindly and he felt as if he were losing control of his bowels.
He barely made a sound as the long razor plunged into his neck, stabbing through flesh, puncturing the trachea. Warren’s heartbeat soared. Blood frothed from the wound and pain seared like lightning through his gut. As he reflexively bent double, the razor ripped a quarter of the way around his neck, destroying muscles and veins. His hand flew to the wound and he futilely tried to stanch the relentless flow of his life fluid. He could see, but all he could make out was a dark shape wavering in front of him.
Warren stumbled forward. The figure sidestepped and he crashed onto the wooden deck, rolling onto his back. Still grasping his throat, opening his mouth only to emit noisy gurgles, he blinked. Someone hovered above him, but he couldn’t make out the face. His attacker was only a dark shape against darkness mumbling words he could not understand.
Warren felt his consciousness slipping away. The figure moved, almost faded, backward down into the yacht . . .
To Charlotte.
And in the distance the boat bell went on ringing calmly in the breeze of an oblivious night.
9
I
TUESDAY MORNING
The sun seemed unusually bright, maybe because she hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. Natalie put on her sunglasses as she drove into downtown Port Ariel. Destination: Curious Things.
Natalie had not visited Lily’s shop for three years. Last summer Lily had renovated, turning the nondescript brick building into a striking establishment that looked like something from the pages of Dickens. A huge bay window jutted over the sidewalk displaying an antique cradle, music boxes, crystal decanters, two of Tamara’s lovely quilts, and pieces of jewelry. When she opened the dark green door with its paned window, a bell jingled merrily, announcing the arrival of a customer.
Lily stood behind the counter talking to a young man. She looked past him and smiled at Natalie.
“When I called your place this morning, your answering machine message said you’d be at the store,” Natalie said. “I didn’t expect you to be working today.”
“I’m only here because of a shipping snafu I had to straighten out.” Lily still had mauve shadows beneath her eyes and Natalie didn’t like her pallor, but she looked slightly more animated than the day before. “Natalie, I’d like for you to meet Jeff . . .”
“Lindstrom,” he supplied. “I’m vacationing here. Ms. Peyton told me about some of the places I should visit.”
Natalie took his extended hand. “Natalie St. John. I grew up here. I’m back for a visit.”
Jeff smiled broadly. His dark blond hair touched the collar of his denim shirt and his slightly prominent teeth were astonishingly white. Natalie guessed him to be no more than thirty.
The bell above the door jingled. Everyone glanced up as Nick Meredith entered. Natalie felt color creeping to her cheeks. The very thought of their last meeting at The Blue Lady made her feel like running from the store in embarrassment. Please don’t let him say anything about it, Natalie thought fervently. But he barely glanced at her. His solemn attention was for Lily. “Hello, Miss Peyton. Your father told me I would find you here.”
“What’s wrong?” she demanded tensely.
“Do you know where your brother-in-law is?”
“Warren?” Lily looked blank. “No. Why?”
“Because I need to talk with him as soon as possible and I haven’t been able to reach him.”
“Well, I’m sure he’s around somewhere. Even he wouldn’t have the nerve to leave town with the funeral tomorrow.” Lily’s eyes narrowed. “Why is it so important that you talk to him?”
“I just have a couple of questions.” Meredith’s casual tone did not ring true. “I’ll try him again in an hour or so. Thanks, Miss Peyton.”
The bell jingled again and a high, childish voice cried, “Daddy!”
Heads swiveled. A little girl with long auburn hair and a sprinkling of freckles beamed at Sheriff Meredith. Behind her stood a heavyset woman with short salt-and-pepper hair and dark eyes behind black-framed glasses.
“Paige,” Sheriff Meredith said. “I didn’t know you and Mrs. Collins were going shopping today.”
“I clean forgot that today is my sister’s birthday,” the woman explained. “Of course I wouldn’t leave Paige home alone and I absolutely had to get a gift. I hope you don’t mind me bringing her. I called your office to ask, but you weren’t in and it’s something of an emergency or I wouldn’t have thought of taking her out without your permission.”
She sounded as if she’d dragged the child along on a dangerous expedition, Natalie thought. Sheriff Meredith looked faintly amused. “You don’t have to get clearance for a trip to downtown Port Ariel, Mrs. Collins, unless you plan to stop in at the local bar for a sandwich and a beer at lunch.”
“Oh, no!” Mrs. Collins earnestly assured him. “We’re going to McDonald’s.”
Natalie realized the child was staring at her and smiled. “Hi.”
“Hi. I’m Paige Meredith. Are you Natalie St. John?”
“I am indeed,” Natalie laughed. “How did you know?”
“My best friend is Jimmy Jenkins.” Natalie raised her eyebrows questioningly. “He’s twelve and has black hair like yours. He met you the day Mrs. Hunt got murdered.”
“Paige!” Meredith said sharply. He motioned toward Lily. “This is Mrs. Hunt’s sister.”
Paige’s sunny smile vanished. “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right,” Lily murmured. “Did Jimmy describe Natalie to you?”
“Yeah.” Paige looked relieved that Lily was changing the subject. Her gaze shifted back to Natalie. “Daddy says you’re a
vet. Do you make house calls?”
“House calls? Not usually. I don’t even practice around here.”
“Oh.” Exaggerated disappointment throbbed in Paige’s voice. “I’m so worried about my cat Ripley.”
Natalie saw Nick Meredith roll his eyes. What was this all about? she wondered. “What’s wrong with Ripley?”
“He’s fat,” Meredith said flatly.
“No he’s not,” Paige retorted. “But he scratches his ears a lot.”
“Mites,” Natalie said. “Maybe an infection.”
“Infection!” Paige made it sound like plague. “Also . . . he limps.”
“Since when?” Meredith demanded.
“Since . . . this morning.”
“Have you checked to see if there’s something between his pads?” Natalie asked. “Maybe a pebble?”
“I didn’t see anything. Dr. St. John, Ripley doesn’t like his usual vet, Dr. Cavanaugh. He gets all nervous and upset when he has to go see him. The last time, he scratched Dr. Cavanaugh and he yelled at Ripley. A lot. Ripley didn’t eat for two days.”
“That’s too bad, but surely there’s more than one vet in Port Ariel.”
“There is,” Meredith said firmly. “Dr. Landers.”
“Daddy, he’s ancient,” Paige wailed. “He bumbles around and talks to himself and last time we were there he called me Ripley. He might give Ripley the wrong medicine and kill him. He also says every pet has the same thing—worms!”
“Worms are fairly common, Paige.” Natalie tried not to grin. The child was certainly laying it on thick—thick enough to win her admiration for dramatic tenacity. “However, if you’re so worried about Ripley, I’d be happy to take a look at him.”
Paige beamed. Meredith scowled. “Dr. St. John, this isn’t necessary,” he said. “The cat is fine—”
“Is not,” Paige asserted.
“—and I know you’re here on a visit,” Meredith continued. “We’re not going to press you into service.”
“I don’t mind, really.”
Paige didn’t look at her father. “We live at 312 Elmhurst—”
“Paige.” Meredith drew a deep breath. “Dr. St. John is obliging you by seeing Ripley. You aren’t going to insist she drive to our house, too.”
“Actually, it would be better if I come to your house than if you bring the cat to mine,” Natalie said. “I have a new dog and I don’t know how she feels about cats.”
“The dog that found Mrs. Hunt’s body?” Paige’s eyes—the same intense blue as her father’s—flew wide and she gasped in Lily’s direction. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean—”
“It’s all right, honey,” Lily said kindly. “My sister is dead. That’s just a fact, so you don’t have to worry about everything you say to me.”
Natalie could feel some of the tension leaving the room. Even Sheriff Meredith’s stiffness dropped a few notches. “I have work to do.” He looked at Lily. “If you hear from your brother-in-law, will you let me know?”
Lily nodded. “Of course, but I think I’d be the last person he’d call.”
Meredith turned his dark blue gaze on Natalie. “Thank you for agreeing to check on Ripley. I really don’t think it’s necessary.”
“I’d like to ease Paige’s mind.”
“Yes, I’m sure she’s tied in knots over Ripley’s dire condition.” He shot a meaningful look at his daughter who assumed a guileless expression. “I will see you at home tonight.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said meekly. “I love you.”
Meredith left the store shaking his head. Lily smiled at Jeff Lindstrom, who was watching Meredith closely. “And that is our sheriff, Nicolas Meredith,” she said.
“Pretty imposing guy.”
“Who apparently doesn’t have time for introductions.”
“That’s all right. No reason for him to be interested in me. I’m just a harmless tourist.” He gave Lily an earnest look. “Ms. Peyton, I’m very sorry about your sister. I had no idea.”
“How could you?”
“I did read about the murder in the newspaper but I didn’t realize the poor woman was your sister.”
“My identical twin.”
“God, that’s awful.” He hesitated. “I guess they have no idea who . . .”
“Slashed her throat?” Natalie winced at Lily’s bald language. “No, although I wonder if Sheriff Meredith isn’t suspecting Tamara’s husband Warren. That must be why he’s in such a fizz to talk to him this morning.”
Paige lingered around the counter, looking in the glass case at several pieces of antique jewelry. And taking in every word, Natalie thought. She caught Lily’s eye and nodded at the child. “Where are you off to first?” Lily asked Jeff.
“I might visit the nautical museum.” His stomach growled loudly. “Or I might eat,” he laughed. “Can you recommend a restaurant that serves a hearty breakfast?”
“Trudy’s Diner, right down the street. They make the best cinnamon rolls in the world and they load your plate as if you’re headed into the Yukon for the day.”
“Sounds like just the ticket. Well, thank you for all the information. And once again, I’m sorry about your sister, Ms. Peyton.”
“Lily.”
“Lily it is.” He looked at Natalie. “Nice meeting you, Dr. St. John.”
“And I’m Natalie. Nice meeting you too, Jeff. Enjoy your day.”
As he walked out the door, Paige moved away from the jewelry counter and joined Mrs. Collins, who was looking at a brass bedwarmer. “I wonder if Nell would like this?” she asked no one in particular. “Oh, no she wouldn’t. Her husband left her a month ago. She’d think I was rubbing it in. Maybe a pretty ceramic thimble. No, she’d think I was being cheap. Oh, this art glass is pretty . . . Good gracious, look at the price!”
“Decisions, decisions,” Lily murmured to Natalie.
“He was nice-looking,” Natalie said.
“Jeff? Yes. Under different circumstances I might even have flirted, but I don’t have any coquetry in me this morning.”
“It will return, maybe even before he leaves town.”
“If you don’t get to him first.”
Natalie smiled. “We sound desperate.”
“We are,” Lily said wryly. “So, Natalie St. John, why did you need to talk to me this morning?”
“We didn’t discuss the post-funeral arrangements. I assume everyone will be coming back to your father’s house.”
Lily sighed. “Yes, and how I dread it. Maybe some people take comfort in having a bunch of people stand around stuffing themselves with food after the burial of a loved one, but I find the custom repugnant.”
“I’m not crazy about it myself,” Natalie said. “Need my help?”
“Surely you jest. With Viveca Cosgrove in the picture? She started making plans an hour after she heard Tam was dead.”
“Viveca? What about Mrs. Ebert?”
“Oh, forget that she’s been the housekeeper forever and has impeccable taste. Viveca pushed her aside and Dad let her. She’s having the damned affair catered. I’ve heard her on the phone making arrangements. They sound like they’re for a party. I’m surprised we’re not having a reception with a band at the country club. Maybe even a door prize. I told Dad I thought the whole shebang was in terrible taste. He said I should appreciate Viveca’s efforts. I can just imagine what my poor mother would think.”
“She’d be appalled. Is Alison coming?”
“With bells on. Even Dad isn’t too happy about that, but last night on the phone Viveca told him it was important to Alison.” She glanced around like a guilty child and lowered her voice.
“While they were talking on the phone, I happened to pick up the extension and I didn’t hang up.”
“Lily!”
“Yes, I’m thoroughly ashamed of myself,” Lily said, not looking at all ashamed. “Viveca was upset. She said Alison got quite distressed when she told her she didn’t want her to attend the funeral and that
she’d flung off to her bedroom in a fury. At around one-thirty in the morning she thought she heard the front door closing softly and someone coming up the stairs. Viveca got up and peeked in Alison’s room. She was in bed, but she was dressed. Viveca said she didn’t want to upset Alison by asking if she’d left the house, but it’s pretty obvious she did.” Lily raised an eyebrow. “Now where do you think someone like Alison Cosgrove would go in the middle of the night?”
II
Mrs. Collins had looked at every item in Curious Things. She picked up one thing after another, rejecting each after careful inspection. Finally she’d dithered over a pair of brass candlesticks until Paige thought she would scream. At last she bought them, paying the whole amount in five-and one-dollar bills. Purchase in hand, she’d marched from the store to window-shop, although how anyone could enjoy windows-hopping at the hardware store and the office supply outlet Paige could not imagine. At last they’d made it to McDonald’s where Mrs. Collins complained steadily about the terrible food although she ate every bite of her Big Mac, large order of fries, and apple pie.
When they reached home, Paige tore up the stairs to her bedroom and the precious phone. She stroked Ripley as she endured Mrs. Jenkins’s inquiries about Paige’s health, her father’s health, and Mrs. Collins’s health while a child whined maddeningly in the background. At last she put Jimmy on the line.
“Can you talk in private?” Paige asked.
“Yeah. Mom took my sister to her room. What’s up?”
“This morning I was in a store owned by Mrs. Hunt’s sister. Her name is Lily Peyton.”
“I know who she is. She looks just like Tamara. She told me to call her Tamara, you know, not Mrs. Hunt. I liked her a lot. She always made me chocolate chip cookies.”
Chocolate chip cookies, Paige thought. She would immediately learn to make them. “I met Natalie St. John.”
“Who?”
“The lady vet who took home the dog that found Tamara’s body. I think she’s pretty. Real pretty.”
Don’t Close Your Eyes Page 14
