“It’s mighty dark out here.”
“We can move in sync with the lighthouse.” I waited until the light finished its dormancy and then said, “Okay, let’s go.”
I led the way across the lawn, around the back of the lighthouse, toward the boardwalk. It was a jerky walk, as we had to keep stopping to move in conjunction with flashes of light from above. The regular bursts of illumination breaking the darkness completely destroyed any night vision we might have otherwise had. Tina said not a word. She walked silently as her cloak floated around her.
When we reached the boardwalk, I said. “Okay, you wait here. Keep quiet, don’t use the light, and wait for my signal.”
“The police said Helena was found in the water.” Tina’s voice came from the darkness. “We’re not near the water yet. I don’t need to wait here. I’m not going to fall in. I’m not a total fool. Unlike my sister.”
I thought that rather unkind considering how Helena hadn’t exactly tripped, but had been pushed into the water by her killer, but I said nothing. The time for Tina and Helena to reconcile had long passed. “Someone followed her down to the pier, and they aren’t going to do that this time, are they?”
“I guess not,” she admitted. “Okay, I’ll wait here.”
“You know what to do?”
“Yes.”
As Tina and I had crept through the shadows of the solid bulk of the old building and across the lawn, I’d heard the sound of car engines approaching and then being turned off, doors slamming, and voices calling. When I returned to the library, I found everyone gathered inside. Other than Sheila, Louise Jane, and a woman I’d never seen before, who must be her cousin, no one looked particularly happy. They had not taken seats.
“Ridiculous,” Ruth was saying as I came in.
“I thought we were having a farewell drink,” Lucinda said. “Isn’t that it? You’re not exactly set up for a party here, Bertie.”
“That’s what Sheila told me,” Mary-Sue said. “I pointed out that the hotel would be a lot more comfortable, but Lucinda would be happier to come here as she wouldn’t have to pay for her drinks.”
“Hey,” Lucinda said. “I resent that. I can pay for a drink, thank you very much. I don’t like being tricked, that’s all.” She turned around and headed for the door. “I’m outta here. You can have your little party without me.”
“You’re welcome to leave,” Louise Jane said, “but you don’t have a car.” Louise Jane had worn her maid outfit. I figured that alone should have told the women they weren’t gathering for a farewell drink.
“I’ll call a cab,” Lucinda said.
“Suit yourself,” Bertie said.
Lucinda hesitated.
“I thought,” Sheila said, “as we’re leaving tomorrow and are unlikely to all be together again, it would be nice to have a walk in the marsh and say farewell to Helena.”
“I thought you didn’t know Helena,” Mary-Sue said.
“I hadn’t met her before Friday, but I spoke to her then.”
“Lucky you,” Mary-Sue said. “I have nothing to say to Helena, dead or otherwise. She ruined my life. Let her be.”
“Ruined your life?” Lucinda snapped. “It seems to me that you have a roof over your head, you have children and grandchildren, and a good job. You have a husband, although I’ll admit he’s not much of a catch.”
Mary-Sue burst into tears. “A good job! You mean that horrible real estate gig? Running to and fro at all hours of the day and night, at the beck and call of people who have no intention of buying but want to wander around the inside of beach houses. I work so hard, but I haven’t sold a house in over a year. We’re up to our eyeballs in debt. I loved being a librarian. All I ever wanted to be was a librarian, and she took it away from me.”
Bertie patted Mary-Sue’s shoulder awkwardly. Lucinda edged back into the room.
“I hope you’re not implying that those of us who stayed in the library field are rolling in dough,” Ruth said. “It’s not exactly a lucrative occupation. At my library, the cutbacks have been so heavy that—”
We had to get moving. My plan threatened to fall apart if all the women wanted to do was stand around inside and tell the others how unfairly life had treated them. I threw a look at Louise Jane.
“As pleasant as this is,” Louise Jane said, “I have to admit you’re right. Sheila brought you here under false pretenses.”
“Hey,” Sheila said. “Don’t blame me. It was your idea.”
“No, it wasn’t. I distinctly remember you saying—”
“We’re all here now,” Ronald said. “Even me, who has better things to do tonight. What’s up, Louise Jane?”
“Louise Jane believes she can contact the spirts of the marsh, and they’ll tell us what happened to Helena,” Sheila said. “They must have seen it all. Under the proper circumstances, they’ll reveal what they saw. Isn’t that right, Louise Jane?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Ruth said. “Sheila, you always were too gullible for your own good. I remember the time in junior year when Leslie Connolly convinced you to write her paper for her. You were almost kicked out of school.”
“It wasn’t Leslie,” Ruth said. “Wasn’t it—”
“Under the right circumstances,” Louise Jane said, “the spirits might be persuaded to reveal themselves. I myself have seen them on more than one occasion.”
“See!” Sheila said. “Told you so.”
I remembered one incidence of Louise Jane creeping about in the marsh while on the phone to her great-grandmother, asking what to do next. For her pains she ended up cold and wet, pretending not to be discouraged.
I didn’t bother to point that out to the group. Instead I said, “Great idea. It’s almost ten. We have to get going if it’s going to be as close as possible to the time we left on Friday.”
Ronald gave me a look.
“Whatever,” Ruth said. “I’ve nothing better to do tonight.”
“Nothing better than getting a good night’s sleep,” Mary-Sue mumbled.
Ronald opened the desk drawer and reached for
