Kit’s thin shoulders hunched. “Just for a minute. I wasn’t very hungry. I ate a bowl of cornflakes.”
“Was he just as usual?”
Her mouth twisted. “I guess so. This summer he acted like we were all strangers. He never wanted to talk about things. She had him jumping through hoops. She didn’t want Dad to have anything to do with us.”
Annie had no doubt that she was referring to Cleo. “I understand he was worried about money.”
“Because of her.” Kit’s voice bristled with anger. “She resented us. Dad always encouraged us. Or he used to. Tuesday morning, I tried to talk to him again about my trip. I came downstairs and he was sitting at his desk and he looked really tired. But I was running out of time. I have to get my tickets by next week. He told me he wasn’t in a position to help. I told him—” She broke off, choked back a sob. “I told him I hated him and now he’s dead.”
Annie spoke gently. “That doesn’t matter now. People who have died understand who loved them. What’s important is that you did love him.”
“I went up to my room and I was pacing back and forth.”
“Did you have your door open?”
Kit nodded. “And the windows.”
“Did you hear any noise?”
“That leaf blower. It was driving me crazy. I shut the windows because the leaf blower made so much noise. I was trying to work on my laptop.”
“When you shut the windows, did you see anyone in the garden?”
“No.”
“What other rooms overlook the garden?”
“Our rooms are right in a row, Tommy, Laura, and me.”
“Had your father quarreled with anyone recently?”
Her narrow face was instantly wary. Was she thinking of her older sister or perhaps her brother or even Pat Merridew? She spoke in careful, measured words. “Nothing big. That I knew about.” Suddenly her gaze narrowed. She stared out into the garden.
Annie looked, too. Richard Jamison came around the stand of cane. He walked with his head down, hands in the pockets of khaki shorts. His dark brown hair was cut short. He walked like a man deep in thought, head bent, steps slow.
Kit’s voice shook. “I told the police about him.” She pointed toward Richard, her face accusatory. “That big officer, the captain, he listened like it didn’t amount to anything. But I know it was wrong. I saw him looking at her just a few days ago. He wanted her. She looked at him and it was like I was in a bedroom with them. Then she turned away. But I know what I saw. That evening after dinner, he went out on the terrace. I went after him. I asked him if Dad knew he had the hots for Cleo. He laughed and said he always admired good-looking chicks but he didn’t make it a practice to seduce married women. He started to move away and I said it looked like she was hot for him, too. He stopped and shook his head, said that wasn’t true. He said I didn’t need to worry, he was going to leave next week.”
Richard reached the path to the house. He looked up, saw Kit and Annie, came to a stop.
Kit drew in a sharp breath. “I thought he was wonderful. He’s been everywhere around the world, the kind of life I’d like to have. Dad called him ‘little buddy.’ Dad said Richard had always been his favorite cousin. How could he care about her?” The harsh pronoun exuded venom. “She’s awful. She always has been.”
Kit whirled away, slammed into the house.
Annie walked down the steps toward Richard.
Max pulled up to a four-way stop sign. A larger road intersected the dirt road that led to Elaine’s cottage. A gray shanty, lopsided from storms and years of weathering, was on his right. Sitting on the sloping porch, resting in a red rocker, was a tiny little woman in a voluminous purplish dress. To his left, a neat and tidy oyster-shell parking lot welcomed shoppers to a two-pump gas station and small cinder-block convenience store.
Max pulled up to a pump. On the mainland, payment was required in advance. On the island, you could pump first and pay later. He removed the gas cap, filled up with regular.
A bell jangled as he opened the door. At the counter, he looked out through the plate-glass window as he handed a twenty to a middle-aged woman with a thin mouth. “Guess you can see everyone coming and going.”
She glanced outside without interest. “Yeah. If I cared.” Her tone indicated she found little of interest in her view, in her job, and likely in her life. She handed him a dollar and seventeen cents in change.
“Were you working Tuesday morning?”
Her gaze sharpened. “Why do you care?”
“Just a bet with a friend.” His tone was easy. “A yellow Corolla came past about ten o’clock. I think it turned right, but my friend’s sure the car turned left. Do you happen to remember?”
She picked up a pack of spearmint gum, ripped the top, pulled out a stick. “I didn’t pay no never mind.”
Outside, Max glanced across the road at the small frame house. In a moment, he turned the car into a rutted driveway. He swung out of the Jeep and walked toward the porch.
The old woman looked up from the Bible in her lap. Raisin-dark eyes in a wrinkled brown face studied him. “ ‘Good people bring good things out of their hearts, but evil people bring evil things out of their hearts.’ ” Her voice was as deep and calm as water in a sheltered lagoon.
Max knew Scripture when he heard it. “Yes, ma’am.”
