Carlene Thompson - Don

"Ann Rule."

"Hey, you read!" Jeff grinned.

"Learned in elementary school."

"I didn't mean it that way," Jeff said quickly. "I just meant that… well, maybe you didn't have time to read."

"I don't care what you meant. So you want to write a book. Is that why you've been asking so many questions about Tamara and Warren Hunt and Charlotte Bishop?"

"Yes."

"That's why you cornered Natalie St. John on a deserted road and gave her the third degree?"

"I didn't corner her," Jeff said hotly. "I just ran into her. It was daylight. Did she tell you I tried to hurt her or something?"

"No, but she said she had a hard time getting away from you."

"Maybe I talked too much. Hey, she's a good-looking woman, don't you think?" Nick stared at him expressionlessly. "Look, I didn't mean to scare her. I was just talking."

"You were asking a lot of questions." He paused. "And what were you doing with Tamara Hunt's earring?"

"Earring? I don't know what you're talking about."

"It fell out of your pocket while you were just talking to Natalie. Where did you get it?"

"Oh, the earring. I found it. Out on that road."

"And what are you-a bag lady in disguise? You squirrel away bits and pieces of things you find?"

Jeff glared at him. "No, Sheriff. Frankly, I did think it might be Tamara's. I was going to bring it to you."

"Oh, were you?"

"Yes."

"But when you discovered your pocket was empty, you didn't call me up and say, 'Sheriff, I found an earring on Hyacinth Lane that might have been Tamara Hunt's, but I lost it. It's probably still out there somewhere.' "

"What would have been the point of that?"

"If you're such a fan of true-crime novels, you'd know we might have learned something from that earring. I don't think you ever had any intention of turning it in to the police."

"Think what you want," Jeff snapped.

"Did you talk to Charlotte Bishop the night of her murder?"

"What?"

"You're not hard of hearing, Lindstrom."

"No, I didn't talk to her."

"Her mother says she saw Charlotte talking with someone fitting your description right before she left the house that night."

Jeff raised his arms helplessly. "I didn't know Charlotte Bishop."

"That isn't what I asked."

"Why would I be talking to her?"

"Your book."

"What would she have to do with my book? She hadn't been murdered when I was supposedly seen talking with her. I don't know what the hell this is all about, but-" Lindstrom seemed ready to burst into a tirade, then got control of himself. He flashed the grin that was beginning to grate on Nick's nerves. "Sheriff, doing this book means a lot to me. I'm sorry if you don't like me asking Natalie St. John questions. I'm sorry I didn't mention the earring. I'm new at this stuff." The grin. "But can't you cut me a little slack? How about letting me in on this investigation? When the book comes out, you'll be prominently featured in the acknowledgments. I promise."

"I don't care about your book," Nick said coldly. "Just stay out of my way."

Jeff's grin vanished. "I didn't have any intention of getting in your way, but you can't stop me from asking questions and doing a little digging of my own."

"I've given you a warning." Nick looked at him chillingly. "You ignore me, and I'll have you arrested for interfering with a police investigation."

"I've got rights," Jeff called as Nick walked back to his car.

"You just keep telling yourself that, Lindstrom, when you're sitting in a dark, little jail cell with one of our less civilized citizens staring at you like you're a prime piece of fresh meat."

Thankfully the graveside service was short. Lily and her father dropped flowers onto the coffin. Then Lily made a beeline for Natalie. "You're coming back to the house with me, aren't you?" she asked almost desperately.

"Of course. I told you I would."

"I know. I'm just so… Oh, I don't know. Sad. Confused. Bitter. I've lost my sister and my father."

"You haven't lost your father."

"Not physically. But that damned Viveca and her nutty daughter…"

"Speaking of your father, he's shooting meaningful looks in this direction."

"I suppose I'm not presenting a suitable picture of family solidarity."

"Lily, don't you think you're being a bit hard on him?"

Lily's hazel eyes flashed. "No, and please don't lecture. I need a friend, not a… a…"

"I get it." Natalie put on her sunglasses. "I'll meet you at your house, and no lectures, I promise."

Fifteen minutes later she pulled up to the Peyton home. Cars lined the elegant street for a block north and another south of the house. Natalie wondered how many of these people really knew Tamara and how many were here because their familiarity with Oliver allowed them in the door to slake their avid curiosity. Inside she recognized few people and decided that unfortunately many were here out of curiosity alone. Ghouls. But maybe she wasn't being fair. Perhaps some of these people were friends Tam made through War ren. Natalie doubted it, though. She'd never heard Tamara mention parties or conventions she'd attended with Warren. It seemed he'd usually left his pretty, shy wife at home. Natalie had no doubt he'd always been unfaithful. How many women like Charlotte had there been?

She was making herself angry, she thought as she approached the front door. There was no sense in going over how Warren might have wronged his wife. That was what Lily was tearing herself apart over and for what? It wouldn't bring back Tamara. And Warren had certainly paid a heavy price for his wrongs. Someone had evened the score.

Someone had evened the score. The sentence tolled in Natalie's head. Was someone trying to even the score for Eugene Farley by killing the children of people who'd been involved in his downfall? Or had Warren died because someone thought he had killed Tamara? Who would feel passionately enough to exact revenge for Tam's murder? Oliver or Lily?

"Natalie, thank God you're here!" Lily stood in the doorway, her blond hair escaping from the bow, her eyes anxious. "I cannot get through this without you."

Natalie swallowed. She couldn't manage a smile when ten seconds earlier she'd been wondering if her best friend murdered Warren. Slashed his throat. And Charlotte 's.

"Nat, what's wrong?" Lily reached out with her strong, long-fingered hand. "You look…frozen."

"It's just a weird day." What a creative answer, Natalie thought. "I need a drink."

"You've come to the right place. I feel like I'm at Truman Capote's famous Black-and-White Ball. Viveca has outdone herself."

When Natalie walked in the house, she had to agree with Lily. None of the somberness of other funeral receptions she'd attended prevailed here. Instead, waiters circled with trays of canapes. Vivid flower arrangements flourished. Candles burned and music played loudly in the background. An open bar operated in the dining room. Natalie felt almost dizzy.

"Lily, isn't that the waltz from Die Fledermaus!"

"Yes. Any minute I expect someone to start dancing. Either that or the next musical selection will be 'Bolero.' I don't know what Dad is thinking. Or even he's thinking. He has to know Tam would hate this. And my mother would be turning in her grave!"

Natalie shook her head. "You're right. I don't understand. Viveca usually has good taste."

Lily emitted a modified snort. "From what I've heard she threw a similar shebang for her husband. Former lover Eugene Farley didn't rate the same treatment."

Natalie stiffened at the mention of Farley. She didn't want to talk about him, but Lily had just given her a perfect opening. She girded herself emotionally. "Did you know Eugene?"

"Yes, a little."

"Tell me about him."

Lily gave her a bemused smile. "Are you trying to take my mind off all this?" Natalie smiled back enigmatically. "Well, whatever. Let's see. He was extremely good-looking. Pretty boy good-looking. He came into the store once right after he moved to town. He said he wanted something for his mother. He bought a cameo pendant. He was friendly and somehow seemed younger than his age. He also talked a lot about his mother. Anyway, the second time he came in he wanted more jewelry. I asked if it was for his mother and he said no, someone younger. He actually blushed when he said it. I'd heard he was seeing Dee Fisher. I couldn't imagine I'd have anything she'd want. He chose an antique garnet brooch set in eighteen-carat gold. It was pretty expensive. I remember he put it on a credit card. I know now it was for Viveca."