in the living room. There are about fifteen of us, excluding the police. But only the five remaining Ewe Lambs are suspects.'
'Not really,' Jane said. 'I was thinking about it on the way over. You and I are officially on the list even though Mel certainly knows we didn't do it. And there are two others who have been present for the duration of the reunion. Let's sit down for a minute. I can't face it yet.'
Jane absentmindedly wandered the kitchen, looking at the food that was almost ready to be served. In spite of the morbid circumstances, Edgar had put on a feast. There were stuffed lamb chops, scalloped potatoes with a faint rosemary smell, a braised celery dish, a cold beet salad with sour cream and dill, and a cauliflower concoction that looked as if it had been parboiled and marinated in a spicy dressing. For those with a lesser appetite, there was a melon boat, cold meats and cheeses, and rye rolls. The food smelled wonderful, but Jane couldn't have eaten a bite.
Shelley poured two cups of Edgar's remarkable coffee and they sat down at the kitchen table. Jane lighted a cigarette. Hector, curled in the chair opposite her, gave a disdainful look of disapproval.
'Who are the other two?' Shelley asked. 'What did you mean by that?'
Jane lowered her voice almost to a whisper. 'Edgar and Gordon.'
'You don't think—'
'No, I don't. But we've been pretty dumb to discount them entirely and you know Mel must be considering them.'
'But they had no previous connection with the Ewe Lambs.'
'— that you know of.'
'Oh, Jane. I wish you'd never said this. I think I'm going mad! Oh, you'll love this: there are two couples here who actually believe this is a party. They came voluntarily!'
'No.'
'Yes. An accountant and some twit who works for a consumer advocacy group. They put their pointy little heads together and decided that they'd paid for a reunion banquet and By God, they were going to attend one, come hell or high water. The accountant
has a wife along who looks like she's hunting for a rock to crawl under. Oh, and Pooky's plastic surgeon friend came. He didn't have to, but came for Pooky's sake. Which I think is sweet.'
'It looks like one person has come out ahead. I'm glad. Did Mel say anything else about Crispy's condition?'
'Just that she's still hanging on. He did mention that they found the weapon. A heavy stick from those woods behind the building. It must have been a perfect club, heavy, close at hand, and easy to.dispose of.'
'Fingerprints?'
'No. The bark was too rough.'
'Anything about the notebook?'
'Mel said the prints were wiped off,!' Shelley reported.
'Shelley, I keep trying to imagine what happened before we got there. Crispy must have had the notebook with her and confronted somebody with what she'd learned.'
'Presumably.'
'But who tore the pages out?'
'Her attacker. Who else would? She probably ran into that little rest room at the visitor center and flushed them.'
'Not likely. Think about the timing. If her attacker had lots of leisure time, she'd have made sure she'd finished Crispy off.'
'That's right. Why didn't she?'
'Maybe because we were running up the hill yelling. And even if she didn't hear HS coming, she had to have known that anybody could have walked in any second just to have a look around. She didn't have a lot of time. Just enough to club Crispy, grab the notebook, wipe off her fingerprints, shove it in the
trash, and get the hell away from the place. Tearing out pages and flushing them — would have taken even more time. And I don't think a toilet was running when I got in there, although I admit I wasn't noticing much of anything but Crispy, and I might not have been able to hear it anyway with all those display walls in the building.'
'Yes, but what conclusion does that lead you to, Jane? That the attacker ripped the pages out and took them along?'
'That's one possibility. She could have.easily slipped them into one of the barbecue fires. But I was really thinking of Crispy herself. Look, Shelley, Crispy kept the notebook for some stupid reason. To wave around in somebody's face, maybe? But wouldn't she take the pages out and put them somewhere safe first?'
Shelley leaned back in her chair and tented her fingers. 'Hmmm. Are you suggesting that Crispy wanted to use Lila's notebook for blackmail, too?'
'Not blackmail exactly. Not to get anything from anybody. But Crispy liked embarrassing people. Remember, I told you when I first met her at the airport, she said she intended to torment the other Ewe Lambs. Remind them of foolish things they'd done. Make them feel silly. I guess as some kind of revenge for not liking her and including her in high school.'
'Okay, so assuming she kept the notebook — you're probably right, she might well have torn the pages out. But where would she have put them? The police went over her room with a fine-tooth comb. They were still here when I came back.'
'No, she knew the rooms wouldn't lock and two of them had already been searched.'
'Then where would she put them?'
'I have no idea.'
'Jane! You're here. Thank heaven,' Edgar said, bustling into the kitchen with a tray of dirty glasses.
Jane leaped to her feet. 'I'm sorry. I should be helping.'
'Make an ashtray run, would you?' Edgar said. He was rinsing out glasses and stacking them in the dishwasher.
Jane picked up the decorative metal canister Edgar used to empty ashtrays into and went to the living room.
It was about the gloomiest gathering she'd ever walked into. The air was blue with smoke, in spite of the fact that someone had opened one of the French doors. People were sitting around in dispirited clumps, barely speaking. There were only two islands of brightness. One was Pooky and her friend sitting close together on a sofa, chattering happily. The other was a group around Trey Moffat and his pretty wife and smiling baby. She was holding the infant and Trey was making baby talk and prodding it, making it laugh. The baby's laugh was so infectious that the group around them was smiling.
Jane strolled around, picking up ashtrays and eavesdropping. Mimi was chatting with another woman about the schedule of a traveling art exhibit. Beth was having a discussion on managing clerks' billing hours with a man who was presumably also an attorney. Kathy was talking about capital gains with the accountant. Avalon was sitting by herself, knitting as if her life depended on finishing the garment.
Jane took the canister back through the kitchen and set it outside the back door. Edgar was getting out the food in preparation for serving. He'd put the long library table at the north end of the living room earlier and covered it with a white lace cloth. 'Did
'I'll check,' Jane said. She peeked around the door. 'Yes, they're on the table.'
'Okay, I'll take the melon out. Hold the door for me, then bring the meat and cheese tray.'
Jane held the door for him, then picked up the tray she was to bring. She edged through the door carefully. The thing wasn't heavy, but it was large and awkward. She followed Edgar through the room and said, 'Where do you want the meat tray?'
'At the other end.'
'Meat tray--' Jane repeated. 'Meat tray!'
She nearly dropped it.
Could Crispy have been saying 'meat tray' not 'meet Trey'?
And if so, what the hell could it mean?
