minutes. That must have been when Elaine came.”
Annie had the clear sense that Laura was scrambling for an explanation. She glanced at the imprints in the sand. Darwyn had been in the pines or in the flower beds near the terrace. Definitely Laura should have seen Elaine either coming or going unless she had been absent from the porch for longer than just a few minutes. Was Laura protecting herself? It was possible that she had slipped downstairs to the study and that was why she hadn’t seen Elaine. There was no reason for her not to admit having seen Elaine. Yet Annie sensed a lie somewhere in Laura’s choppy responses.
She tried to work out the times. “How about Richard?”
Laura looked relieved. “I saw him. He was sweating. He’d been jogging. He came up to the terrace and went inside and then in only a few minutes the police came.”
Annie imagined herself on the upper verandah. If Laura glimpsed someone leaving the house after having shot Glen, she would have seen that person walking—or running—toward the cottage and the lane that ran behind it. “Between the time you went out to the porch and before Richard arrived, did you see anyone heading toward the cottage?”
“I didn’t see anyone.” Her voice was strident.
Yesterday Annie had suspected that Laura was lying. Today she had no doubt that the girl was hiding something. Was she hiding the reason for her absence from the verandah or the identity of someone walking away from the house?
“Did you see Kirk Brewster?”
Laura’s fingers curled on the strap of the binoculars in her lap. She drew a swift breath. “No.”
Annie looked up and knew her face was grim. “You saw someone. I think it was Kirk. If you don’t speak out, your aunt is going to be arrested.”
Edna Graham hesitated. When she spoke, her voice was thoughtful but firm. “Mr. Darling, I’m positive Mr. Brewster didn’t have anything to do with Mr. Jamison’s death. But I’ve heard,” and now she sounded worried, “that the police have arrested Elaine.”
“That isn’t correct.” Max tried to sound reassuring. “The police simply wish to question her. Along that line, that’s why I want to visit with Mr. Brewster.” He kept his voice pleasant and hoped she concluded that he posed no threat to the young lawyer. “We’re trying to collect as much information as possible to assist the police. I know Kirk has already been questioned and I’m sure he was helpful. I’m hoping he might offer some insights into the family dynamics.”
“Oh. Well, of course. He’s off-island this afternoon. He took his sister into Savannah to go to the doctor but”— as a good secretary, she had every partner’s location at her fingertips—“you might find him at the youth center in a little while. He didn’t intend to come back into the office. His nephew Sam has a baseball game at four o’clock.”
Annie sat at the coffee bar. She sipped a cappuccino with a double dash of caramel. “Thanks, Henny. You’re a sweetheart to pitch in while I’m running around the island not accomplishing very much.” She felt discouraged and knew she sounded discouraged.
Henny’s voice was firm. “You’re doing your best. If it weren’t for you, the police wouldn’t know that Pat Merridew was murdered.”
Annie felt even more discouraged. “We may know that someone poisoned Pat because she saw Glen’s gun hidden in the gazebo, but Billy doesn’t think there will ever be any way to prove that her death was deliberate.”
“She won’t be labeled a suicide.” Henny’s eyes flashed. “That matters to me and that matters to her sister. I finished packing up everything in Pat’s house. Those travel brochures for the Alaska cruise never did show up.” Henny Brawley poured herself a fragrant tropical tea. She came around to look over Annie’s shoulder at a sketch pad of the Jamison front and back yards with arrows and
Annie was emphatic. “There’s always an answer to a locked-room puzzle if you know where to look. But this time, I don’t see any way out of a box.” She pointed at the sketch. “There’s the telephone lineman. He had a clear view of the front door to the Jamison house. According to Billy Cameron, the lineman said nobody came in or out until the police cars arrived, sirens blaring. So we can’t have an unknown who popped in the front door, went down the hall, and shot Glen. Then . . .” Her index finger tapped the squiggle that represented the terrace and the backyard. “There’s Laura on the upper verandah. She claims the only person she saw was Darwyn. She said she didn’t see Elaine. Now she says she wasn’t on the verandah the entire time. That wasn’t what she said yesterday when she claimed she sat there the entire time from breakfast until Richard knocked on her bedroom door. If she was on the verandah and if she’s telling the truth, then the only people who could have shot Glen are Kit or Laura from inside the house or Richard and Elaine from the backyard. I think Laura saw someone. Just like Darwyn did. Who would she protect? Kirk Brewster. Who has a gold-plated motive? Kirk Brewster. Did she see Kirk?”
Henny studied the drawing. “The possibilities come down to Kit and Laura, who were in the house; Richard, who claimed he found Glen dead; Elaine; or maybe Kirk. It looks bad for Elaine. She’s the one who threw away the murder weapon and hid a bloodstained shirt.”
Annie slipped down from the seat, wandered restlessly toward the fireplace. More Cat Truth posters were now mounted on the wall on either side of the fireplace and at the ends of bookshelves. No doubt Laurel had dropped by simply to lend a hand and, of course, improve the bookstore’s decor in passing.
Whatever.
Annie’s gaze slid across the photographs. Which was the most gorgeous? She admired new posters with the wide-open gold, almond-shaped eyes of a fawn-coated Somali (
Just like Laura.
Annie shook her head in puzzlement. Why hadn’t Laura admitted seeing Elaine? Elaine claimed she’d grabbed
