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“Yes. It’s not as bad inside as it looks. Decades ago that space was used to store valuables traveling through the island-rum, spices, precious metals, and the like. It’s secure, but airy.

“Why don’t I ask if Mr. Gordon can see you now?”

“I’d appreciate that,” Susan answered.

Frances Adams smiled at the armed guard and approached slowly. They spoke for a few minutes. Frances pointed to Susan, the guard looked at her, and Susan looked back. The guard pointed at the cardplayers, who looked around and smiled. Susan smiled back at them and then at the guard. By the time they had all greeted each other, everyone was smiling except for the guard with the gun.

Frances Adams left the guard and walked back to Susan, who thought the smile on Frances’s face now looked a bit forced. “You can see him, but the guard at the door is not happy with all Mr. Gordon’s visitors. He said that usually prisoners can only be seen by their lawyer and their family. I told him you were almost family, but it didn’t help. May I suggest you keep this visit as short as possible?”

“I will,” Susan assured her as the guard turned and, with much clanking of old-fashioned skeleton keys, unlocked the door and stood aside for her to enter.

“I’m needed upstairs,” Frances Adams said. “When you leave, just follow that corridor.” She pointed toward a long stone hallway. “It will lead you back to the front of the building. Please call me if you have any questions… or problems,” she added, looking over toward the armed guard.

“I will,” Susan said, and quickly entered the doorway. The guard followed close on her heels.

Much to Susan’s surprise, the room was spacious and light. Stone walls had been stuccoed and painted a soft turquoise. The wall opposite the door boasted three large windows with magnificent views of the sea and some small islands in the distance. The bars on the windows didn’t interfere with the beauty of the scene. Although sparsely furnished with a narrow bed, a small table, and two chairs, the room was still attractive and almost cheerful. Jerry was sitting on one of the chairs, which had been drawn up in front of the window on the right, but he rose to greet her with a huge smile on his face.

“Susan, I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.”

Susan reached out to hug him and was stunned when the guard grabbed her hands. “Ow!”

“We’re not allowed to touch,” Jerry said sadly. “She doesn’t know the rules,” he explained to the guard. “She won’t do it again.”

“No, I won’t,” Susan assured him, trying to control her nervousness and her temper. Her wrist was stinging as a result of the man’s rough handling.

“You only have a few minutes,” he growled, and leaned back against the door, replicating his former position outside the room.

“Sit down. I can’t tell you how much I’ve wanted to see you,” Jerry said.

“I’ve wanted to see you, too. I-”

“Susan, I’ve been thinking. About my life and my past, and I think that Kathleen and June are very much alike.”

“Really… I-”

“Yes. In fact, I’m sure of it. The more I think about it the surer I am.”

“Well-”

“Of course, you could say the only thing they had in common is that they were both married to me, and that’s true, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but-”

“But I believe their situation made them alike in many, many ways.”

Susan realized she wasn’t going to be allowed to speak a full sentence unless she interrupted. “Kathleen isn’t-”

“She’s much more like June than it may appear at first glance,” Jerry said firmly and loudly. “You must realize that she and June are in the same situation, and the end result could be the same.”

“You mean Kathleen might die in an accident?” Susan was completely perplexed.

“No talk about death. Visit is at an end,” the guard said, putting his gun between Jerry and Susan to emphasize his point.

“But-” Susan cried out.

“This is fine,” Jerry said quickly. “You think about what I said, Susan. Think and you’ll realize I could be right.”

TWENTY-FIVE

Susan’s taxi driver was waiting, leaning against the trunk of his car, eyes closed. Susan started toward him and then stopped. She was upset, and the thought of returning to Compass Bay was completely unappealing. Leaving her driver to continue his nap, she turned and walked toward the center of town.

Jerry and Kathleen, she remembered, had come to town for dinner their first night on the island. She wasn’t really hungry, but she was thirsty and nervous; stopping for a drink seemed like an excellent idea. The first restaurant she came to was a run-down bar-a surprisingly active bar considering the time of day-and she continued on to the next. THE COCONUT HUT: DINE IN PARADISE read the brilliantly painted sign above the door. Susan decided she could use a little paradise and went in.

The air-conditioning felt wonderful although she had walked less than a quarter mile, and when the hostess appeared, Susan was happy to be escorted to a small table in the back of the room.

“I don’t need a menu. I’ll just have a large lemonade and… and a glass of ice water,” she ordered. The hostess hurried off, and Susan picked up her purse. She probably had a pen, and she wanted to write down what Jerry had said while it was fresh in her mind. Frances Adams had said Jerry was depending on Susan for his release. He must have known she would, if possible, have come to see him. He must have planned what he would say. So why did his words make absolutely no sense?

June and Kathleen had only two things in common: They had both been Jerry’s wife, and they both were the mothers of two children by him. Period. They didn’t come from the same background. June had been brought up in the suburbs, attended an excellent women’s college, and married Jerry soon after graduation. Kathleen grew up in New York City, attended Hunter College, and fulfilled a childhood dream when she joined the police force. Being a suburban housewife had been a natural avocation for June; for Kathleen it was an ongoing struggle. June was domestic by nature and by training. Kathleen took good care of her family and her home because she cared about them, but she had had to learn to do it and it hadn’t been easy. Accustomed to meals on the run or takeout in New York City, Kathleen had been unfamiliar with many of the phrases common in cookbooks. It was only recently that Kathleen had managed to pull off large dinner parties with as much ease as June had the first month of her marriage.

Susan picked up the pen she had found in her purse and moved the paper place mat closer, continuing to think about Kathleen and June without writing a word. Of course, there were things about wives that only a husband would know, but Susan couldn’t imagine that Jerry had been referring to such private, personal things. They were both good mothers, but their style was different. Although Kathleen seemed more casual than June, she was just as concerned and involved. Like June, she served her time as class mother, but while June brought elaborately decorated cupcakes to class parties, Kathleen found a bakery that made delicious health food bars and passed them out to Emily’s and Alex’s classmates.

June had never seemed to need anything outside of her home and family. Kathleen had been eager to start her own security company as soon as her youngest was in nursery school. Kathleen loved her life, but sometimes Susan worried that it was too confining. Kathleen needed excitement. And June didn’t. June was… well, June was dull.

Susan was surprised. She had never thought of June that way. June had seemed perfectly happy to do what was expected, but nothing more, nothing surprising or fun. Susan hadn’t been looking for anything else when they had been friends. Busy with two young children, Susan was content to make it through the day without a crisis call from the school nurse or a torrent of sibling rivalry upsetting the balance of family life. But, if June had been alive when Chad and Chrissy were older and less demanding, would she and Susan have remained friends? As she had told Kathleen yesterday, Susan doubted it. Oh, they would have seen each other-their husbands’ relationship would have guaranteed that-but close friends? The type of friends she and Kathleen had become? Susan knew it wouldn’t have happened.