“No, I’m glad you did. I’ll ask for a wake-up call.”
“That’s right. You’ll be up late tonight reading,” Susan said, going over to her side of the bed and picking up a paperback with a bright cover and a clever title. “You wanted to borrow this, remember?” She gave Kathleen the book along with Allison’s diary. “It’s a real page-turner.”
“But don’t you want to read it first?” Kathleen asked.
“No. I’m going to go to bed. I’ll get it back in the morning. Okay?”
“First thing in the morning,” Kathleen agreed.
TWENTY-TWO
Susan slept badly that night, rolling around searching for a comfortable spot in bed, flipping her pillow so many times that Jed, the mildest of husbands, finally protested and threatened to find a comfortable lounge outside for her to sleep on. Susan had gotten up, showered, and returned to bed only to fall into a deep sleep.
When she woke up, the sun was shining through the louvers over the windows and Jed was gone. She could hear the cheerful voices of people strolling by on their way to breakfast. She sat up. Breakfast! Kathleen! The diary! Susan slipped from the bed and hurried to the bathroom. Ten minutes later, she discovered Jed in the process of demolishing a large omelet and plantain fries.
“Want some coffee?” he asked, pulling back a chair for his wife.
“Yes. And food. What’s that?”
“Crab omelet. Fabulous. I highly recommend it.”
“Then that’s what I’ll have-with fruit,” she said to the waitress who had appeared by their table.
“Can’t beat the service here,” Jed mused as their waitress hurried off to the kitchen with his wife’s order.
“One of the things people keep saying is that everyone on the island-the natives-wants to work here and that they work very hard to keep their jobs once they have them.” Susan frowned.
“You look like you just had an idea,” her husband said.
“I did.” Susan didn’t bother to explain. “Have you seen Kathleen this morning?”
“Yes, she and Jerry’s lawyer were just leaving as I arrived for breakfast. They were going off to see Jerry. She said to tell you that she’ll be back as soon as possible and that she left the beach bag in her cottage for you.” He rummaged through the pockets of his shorts and then handed her a key. “She said to give you this.”
“The key to her cottage.”
Jed shrugged. “I guess so. But you are going to hang around long enough to eat, aren’t you?”
Susan was dying to see what was in the diary she had discovered last night, and she was pretty sure that Kathleen had read it and left it in Allison’s beach bag back at her cottage. But they were on vacation, Jed had looked lonely sitting all alone, and, besides, she was starving. “Of course,” she answered, smiling at him.
“Then I’m going to have another cup of coffee and chat with my wife.”
Susan’s smile vanished. “It hasn’t been a great vacation, has it?”
“Not quite what we planned. I keep wondering what’s going to happen if we have to go home before Jerry is cleared.”
Susan leaned across the table, trying to prevent their conversation from being overheard. “Jed! We couldn’t leave him here!”
“Kathleen is going to have to get home to her kids. And I’m due back at work in less than a week. Susan, no one knows how long it’s going to take to get Jerry free.”
“What does his lawyer think?”
“He’s not optimistic. The authorities have one suspect. They’re not busy looking for another. The truth is that unless you and Kathleen come up with someone else, Jerry’s going to be tried for murder.”
“Does he know that?”
“He’s a smart guy, Susan.”
“How is he doing really?”
“Not bad. The lawyer is good, and Jerry feels confi-dent that he’ll be well represented if this does go to trial. Strangely enough, he seems more worried about Kathleen than himself.”
“Sounds like he has his priorities wrong. Kathleen’s not going to be okay until he’s okay.”
“I’ve told him the same thing, but he keeps worrying about her. Damn.” Jed put down his fork. “I can’t tell you how much I wish he could talk with us without being overheard.”
“Can’t the embassy do something about that? Isn’t Jerry entitled to some privacy?”
“I get the impression that they’re doing the best they can. And Jerry’s lawyer seems to think things might improve-and you might find the real killer.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“You and Kathleen don’t know anyone here. You don’t have any contacts in the police department. Susan, we’re in a foreign country, for heaven’s sake. I know you’re doing the best you can, but-”
“I know what you’re saying, Jed, and I’ve been worried about that, too, but what I need is an ally who knows the-the lay of the land around here. And I think I’ve figured out who just might help us.”
“Who?”
“That doesn’t matter now,” she answered, smiling at the woman who had brought her food. “But I’ve got a question, Jed.”
“What?”
She waited until they were alone to ask it. “I don’t know what you think about Allison. Did you like her?”
“Not particularly. And I can tell you something else.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Jerry didn’t like her at all.”
Susan looked up from her dish of mangoes. “Back when he was married to June?”
Jed nodded. “I remember when Allison introduced him to her sister. He came back to the office and said something about being surprised that such an awful girl could have such a wonderful sister.”
“I never guessed.”
“Well, he didn’t mention it again until a few years after he and June were married. They didn’t live in the same town. Allison didn’t come to visit much. To tell you the truth, her name just didn’t come up.”
“Why didn’t you like her?” Susan asked.
Jed frowned. “She flirted.”
“With you?”
“With me. Probably with all men.”
“Really? She always struck me as so… I don’t know… so homely and dull. She wore such dowdy clothing.”
“Just because a woman doesn’t wear designer clothing doesn’t mean she isn’t interested in men. At least, not in my experience.”
Susan opened her mouth to ask exactly what experience he was referring to, but realizing that changing the subject wouldn’t be productive, she resisted. “Did she actually make a pass at you?”
“Not really. She just flirted.”
“Did she make a pass at Jerry?”
“It’s possible. I know that he was very uncomfortable being with her for a while.”
“When June was alive?”
“After she died.”
“How soon after she died?” Susan asked.
“Sue, you know I’m not as observant about this type of thing as you are. And I don’t remember exactly. I do remember all four of us going to dinner at the Hancock Inn sometime after June had died.”
“We all went there the day after her funeral.”
“I’d forgotten that evening. What a horrible time. I really thought Jerry was going to crack up. A man shouldn’t have to live with that much pain.”
Susan nodded. “It was awful, wasn’t it? I remember we went out because no one wanted to cook and I thought it would be a good idea if Jerry got away from the house. I was completely wrong, of course. I still remember Jerry sitting at the table, looking down at his cranberry-glazed Cornish game hen with tears pouring down his cheeks. I haven’t ordered that meal at the inn since that dinner.”
“That isn’t the dinner I’m thinking about,” Jed said. “This was later. Allison had come out from the city to pick up some of June’s things.”
“She did that a couple of times,” Susan said. “But go on. Why did you think Jerry was uncomfortable with Allison?”