he’s dead.” Jackie suddenly blushed uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, but you should have seen her Sunday, Linney.” Turning to me for collaboration, she said, “Surely you noticed how completely unaffected she was? I mean, really. She looked absolutely stunning. In fact, I think she looks better now than she did the night of the murder.”
“Jackie, you can’t blame a woman who looks better for her husband dying,” said Linnet mildly. “I wasn’t exactly sobbing into my hankie the day of Martin’s funeral.”
“Now, Linney, don’t say that.”
“Why not?” said Linnet. “It’s true. I wasted so much of my life because of that man.”
Jackie flushed at this statement, no doubt upset by her friend’s feelings of regret. “You have a lovely life,” Jackie said firmly. Struggling to say something positive about the dead man, she added, “And deep down, Martin was a good man.”
Linnet smiled at Jackie. “Dear Jackie. You dated him only a few times, so you remember him when he was still worth something. Trust me, he went downhill pretty fast after we were married. Life was no bed of roses with Martin Westin. And besides, remember the plans you and I had? We were going to be famous actresses in Hollywood. We might have had a real shot at something, Jackie. Remember how good everyone said we were?”
Jackie blushed and shook her head. “They said that about you, not me. You were the one with real talent.”
“I think that’s an overstatement,” Linnet said. “But who knows? Had I really taken the trouble to see it through, I probably would have made it. When I put my mind to something, I usually succeed. It might have all come to naught, but it would have been thrilling to try.” She sighed before adding, more to herself than to us, “It’s hard to have regrets so late in life, but sometimes I wish I’d never met Martin.”
Jackie stared back at her, her pale lips pulled down. “Me, too,” she said softly. I wondered how many of Jackie’s plans for her own future had been altered by Linnet’s decision to abandon their Hollywood dreams for marriage.
Linnet smiled wistfully at Jackie. “But you’re right, Jackie. I do have a good life now. And that’s what’s important.” Changing the subject, she said, “So, besides Lauren, whom else do you suspect?”
The question was not directed to anyone in particular, but Jackie quickly answered. “Personally, I wonder about that Daniel. He’s very charming and good-looking. I hear that he’s always at the house with Lauren.” Her lips were pursed as she said this, and although I couldn’t see her eyebrows, I was sure they were raised in scandalized disapproval.
“You seem to have gotten very chummy with him, Elizabeth,” she said to me. “What do you think?”
I was spared an immediate response by the fact that I had just taken a bite of the salmon. “Chummy?” I finally echoed. “I don’t know that I’d call us chummy.”
“But you had dinner with him last night at the Seasons, didn’t you? From what I hear, that’s quite a romantic spot.”
“It was very nice,” I said weakly. “But I don’t know if I’d say it was romantic.” Good God, did the woman have spies everywhere? How could she know so much about the goings-on of practically everyone in this town?
“So what do you think, Elizabeth?” she continued with a sly smile. “Is he seeing Lauren? Or are his intentions focused elsewhere?”
I knew my face was beet red; nevertheless, I calmly replied, “Daniel says that he and Lauren are old friends, and I have no reason to doubt him.”
“Interesting,” she said. “But I guess you never can tell with men, can you? Then you and he aren’t—”
“No.”
“I see,” Jackie said. “Is that because of Peter? He’s a very handsome young man.”
“Peter?” I replied, aghast. “No. Peter and I are old friends, that’s all. Besides, he has a girlfriend.”
Aunt Winnie shot me a puzzled look and I realized that I was letting myself be quizzed when the point of our visit had been for us to ask the questions.
“I did hear that Gerald was married twice before Lauren,” I said. “Does anyone know what happened to his previous wives?”
“From what I hear,” said Jackie, “his first wife, Polly’s mother, died in a car accident. Some have even gone so far as to suggest that Gerald was involved. They say she was having an affair at the time. He divorced his second wife. Pam was her name, I believe.”
“Does Pam still live in the area?” I asked.
“Not that I know of,” said Jackie. “Apparently, it was a very acrimonious parting. Do you think she might have killed Gerald for revenge?”
“I don’t know,” I answered. “I don’t see how she could have. The police have established that no one from outside the inn killed Gerald. If Pam was there on New Year’s, I’m sure Gerald would have recognized her.”
“Maybe,” said Jackie, “but she could have disguised herself. After all, it has been several years since their marriage.”
I thought about that. There really had been only one woman there that night who was the right age for the second Mrs. Ramsey. Joan Anderson. Was the secret of the necklace somehow wrapped up in that?
After lunch, Jackie served a decadent chocolate cake that I recognized as a product of the Flowering Teapot. She ate enthusiastically, the conversation about Gerald’s murder seeming to have increased her appetite. It had the opposite effect on Aunt Winnie and me. In fact, Aunt Winnie ate hardly anything at all. Linnet, too, only picked at her slice, all the while bemoaning the unfairness of Jackie’s slim frame compared to her own padded one. It took every ounce of my restraint not to suggest that if she got up and helped Jackie once in a while, she might have less of a weight problem.
Coffee was served—by Jackie—in the living room. In her role as hostess, Linnet decreed that we would not talk any more of Gerald’s murder, which pretty much ended the conversation. After finishing our coffee, Aunt Winnie and I thanked Jackie and Linnet for the lunch and made our excuses to leave. Linnet smiled loftily at us from the comfort of the sofa, while Jackie walked us to the door.
“Thank you so much for coming,” Jackie said. “I really enjoyed talking with you. We should do this again soon. In the meantime, keep me posted on what you hear about the murder investigation. I know it sounds ghoulish, but I find the whole thing quite fascinating.”
“I’ll let you know if I hear anything,” I said.
“Good. I just wish I could remember what I saw that night that bothered me.”
“Well, keep trying,” I said. “I’m sure it will come to you.”
“I hope so,” she replied. “I have the feeling that it’s important.”
From inside the house, Linnet’s voice rang out, “Jackie! I need you!”
Jackie called back, “Coming, Linney!” Turning back to us, she said apologetically, “I must go now. Thank you again for coming.” And with that, she shut the door.
I turned to Aunt Winnie. “That woman is unbelievable!” I said. We walked quickly down the stone steps to the driveway. The temperature had dropped again and the wind was howling. Our progress to the car was hampered by Aunt Winnie’s heels. With each step she sank into the gravel on the driveway and threatened to topple over. I grabbed her arm to steady her.
Aunt Winnie pulled her coat closer. “Which one?”
“Linnet Westin. The way she treats Jackie, it’s despicable!”
“True, but we don’t know all the ins and outs of their relationship.”
“Well, that may be so,” I said, as I propelled us to the car, “but I still don’t see how she puts up with being treated like a servant.”
“I know,” Aunt Winnie replied with a small smile, “but you do not make allowance enough for the difference of situation and temper. Seriously, though, we don’t know how bad Jackie’s situation was before this. Being bossed around by Linnet might be preferable to whatever she had before.”
I opened Aunt Winnie’s car door for her and ran around to my door while she started up the engine. Inside, I leaned over and turned up the heat full blast. I placed my hands against the vents, waiting for the hot air to warm them. Aunt Winnie sighed.
I glanced over at her. Her eyes were dull and her lips were pulled into a frown. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” she said. “It’s just that I was hoping we’d learn something today, but if anything I think Jackie
