Wonderful, Natalie thought. Harvey had provided a possible intruder with an excuse for getting in the house. 'What did he look like?'
'Look like? I don't know. Average. My height. Maybe thirty. Light hair.'
'How long did he have the key?' Andrew asked.
Harvey looked blank. 'About an hour, I guess.'
'You guess?'
'Well, hell, I didn't have my stopwatch, Andrew. What's so important about it, anyway?'
Andrew asked quietly, 'Would you get the key?'
Harvey sensed that he'd done something wrong and swung into loud defensiveness. 'Sure! Nothing to me!' He crashed his glass onto an end table, sloshing gin onto his hand. 'I don't want your damned key. I was only trying to help.'
He disappeared into the kitchen again, muttering and curs ing. Drawers slid out and slammed. Cabinet doors opened and slammed. Natalie and Andrew exchanged looks. Finally Harvey returned to the living room and said weakly, 'Can't lay my hands on it right now.'
Andrew sighed. ' Harvey, do you remember the young man bringing back the key?'
'Sure! Well, actually… not really.' He looked sheepish. 'I think I took a little nap when he was over there.'
'He never returned it,' Andrew said flatly.
Harvey 's shoulders slumped. He looked old and defeated and completely demoralized. 'I screwed up, Andrew. I'm sorry.'
'Don't feel bad, old friend,' Andrew said quickly. 'I think I lost one of the keys, too.'
So two house keys were unaccounted for, Natalie thought. Which meant any number of people had easy access to the house.
Nick dialed Constance Farley's phone number and leaned back in his chair. She picked up on the third ring.
'Mrs. Farley, this is Sheriff Meredith in Port Ariel again.'
'Good gracious,' she fluttered. 'What's wrong now?'
'Do you have a nephew named Jeff Lindstrom?'
A short silence. 'Unfortunately, yes. My sister's boy. What do you want to know?'
'He's here in Port Ariel.'
'You've talked with him?' she asked anxiously. 'Did he tell you about me?'
'I've talked with him, but he never mentioned his relationship to you.'
'Oh.' She. drew a breath. 'Sheriff, I really don't understand. If he didn't tell you of our relationship, then why are you calling about him?'
'I found your number in his address book.'
'Address book?'
'Yes. Let me explain. Lindstrom has been nosing around town for about a week. He's been asking a lot of questions about the murders we've had. Frankly, he's been bothering people, and I told him to back off.'
'He's an awful boy,' Constance pronounced. 'Pushy. Unprincipled. I think he's a little crazy.'
'Crazy? How is he crazy?'
'There have been things over the years, things I don't think my sister would want me to discuss. But he's awful, I tell you.'
At least he didn't have to worry about offending the woman, Nick thought. 'He claimed he was doing research for a book.'
'A book? I wouldn't know anything about that.'
'Anyway, I need to talk to him again, but he seems to have disappeared and-'
'Disappeared? What do you mean disappeared? He left town?'
'If so, he left without his luggage. He hasn't been in his motel room since yesterday afternoon. That's where I found his address book.'
'Oh. Well… well, I don't see what this has to do with me.'
'I thought since your number is in his address book, you might be in touch with him. You might know where he is.'
He had not called because he thought Constance might know Lindstrom's whereabouts. He'd called to get information about their relationship. All the murder victims were connected with Eugene Farley. He had first suspected Constance Farley, but her neighbors confirmed she'd never left Knoxville. Now he found out her nephew was in town and he seemed to be stalking potential victims. Could this woman have dispatched Lindstrom to do her dirty work? That would mean they were both crazy. She said he was crazy. Were they both that crazy? Improbable. Not impossible.
'I don't know why you think I'd know where that boy is,' Constance returned. Her voice shook slightly as if she were controlling her anger. 'I didn't even know he was in Port Ariel. I'm not close to him at all. And frankly, Sheriff, I'm getting really tired of these calls. My life hasn't been easy the last two years, but I'm trying to hold on. I was doing fairly well and then you start this… this… harassment!'
'I didn't mean to harass you, Mrs. Farley.'
'Really? You had the police question my neighbors! How humiliating!'
'I'm sorry.'
'You should be.' Tears in the voice. 'I don't know why Jeffrey is there, but believe me, he's a terrible person. Don't talk to him. Don't give him any information.'
'I have no intention of giving him any information about this investigation.'
'Or about Eugene.'
'Mrs. Farley, I didn't know Eugene. I didn't even live in Port Ariel when he… died.'
'I see. Well, I don't mean to sound like a harridan, but I'm just so tired, so nervous, and now he's causing trouble-'
'Mrs. Farley, you just calm down,' Nick said kindly. 'I'll take care of Lindstrom.'
'What will you do to him?'
'Chase him to the town limits.'
'Good!'
Nick had been trying to strike a lighter note. Did the woman really think he could run someone out of town? 'I'm sure I'll locate him soon,' he began more seriously. 'Everyone involved in this case knows not to talk to him.'
'No, don't talk to him.'
She was certainly adamant about no one talking to Lindstrom, he thought. What was she afraid he'd say? 'He won't be a problem for long, Mrs. Farley.'
Nick wished he believed that last sentence. He hung up the phone and rubbed his eyes. Too little sleep since this mess started. Even when he slept, he didn't really sleep. He dreamed of Meagan lying white and frail in a hospital bed connected to blinking, beeping machines as her lively gaze dulled to emptiness. Last night he'd dreamed of Natalie St. John sitting at a table in a dark room. A big, mirrored ball twinkled overhead and a band played. He'd walked over to her table and asked her to dance. She'd smiled sadly and lowered a lacy shawl to expose her neck. 'I'm sorry,' she'd said. 'I love this song, but as you can see, someone has slit my throat.'
'Sheriff?'
'Damn!' Nick shouted, startled out of a half-sleep and a return to the horrible dream about Natalie. 'What is it, Hysell?'
'Some kid from the Lakeview Motel insists on talking to you. I told him you were busy, but he wouldn't spill his no doubt earth-shattering information to me.'
'Okay, Ted. He's a good kid, just a little overeager. I'll take the call.'
He lifted the receiver and spoke. An ebullient voice announced, 'Hey, Sheriff, it's Wade Hanley at the Lakeview.'
He hadn't even caught the kid's name earlier in the day. 'So, Wade, has Lindstrom come back?'
