Don

The woman hesitated. "No, I haven't anything to do. Mr. Peyton didn't even eat his breakfast and said he might be dining out."

"He's getting back into the world."

Mrs. Ebert sat down on a wing chair across from Nick. "No, I don't really think he has dinner plans. He simply doesn't want to eat." She crossed her long, shapely legs and pulled her navy blue skirt over her knees. "He's devastated, Sheriff Meredith. Those girls mean the world to him."

"At least he still has Lily." She smiled. "And Mrs. Cosgrove." The smile vanished. "Don't you like her?"

"I don't know her well," Mrs. Ebert said shortly.

"About as well as you'd like, I imagine. I know Lily doesn't like her and from what I've seen, I wouldn't care for her, either. There's just something about her…"

"She's overbearing," Mrs. Ebert said promptly. "She acts as if this house is already hers, redecorating, doing away with Mrs. Peyton's things."

"You were fond of Mrs. Peyton."

"She was an angel living on earth. Such a simple, unassuming woman. She considered having a housekeeper a wild extravagance, not to mention pretentious, but she really didn't have any choice because her multiple sclerosis kept her bound to the wheelchair those last few years. My first couple of months here were tense." She smiled again. "I was recently widowed and so lonely. When she realized that, everything changed. We became like sisters. She saved my life-my emotional life."

Mrs. Ebert sighed and looked at the portrait of the twins. "I think she would be horrified by the idea of Viveca Cosgrove becoming the girls' stepmother. Of course there's just Lily now…" Her lovely eyes filled with tears. "I never should have talked so much about private matters. I had no right."

"You have every right to your opinion," Nick said gently. "Of course, after what happened to her daughter, Mrs. Cosgrove won't be around here much."

"Now I feel worse. That girl is very… disturbing, but she didn't deserve what happened to her. It's horrible!"

Nick reached for another cracker. "But she's alive, not like Jeff Lindstrom."

"Jeff Lindstrom?" she asked blankly.

"His body was found this morning. He'd been murdered like Tamara and Warren."

The violet eyes flew wide. "My God! He was so young!"

Nick had mentioned Lindstrom without expecting to hit pay dirt. He tried to hide his surprise and excitement. "You knew Jeff Lindstrom?" he asked casually.

"I didn't really know him." Mrs. Ebert tucked a graying wing of hair behind her ear. "He came here once. He asked to speak with Mr. Peyton and I said Mr. Peyton wasn't seeing anyone, but then he got rather loud and Mr. Peyton came in."

"When was this?"

"Thursday night, after Tamara's funeral. Can you imagine the nerve? Lily was still here. She told her father not to speak with him, but Mr. Peyton did anyway."

Lily had told Natalie she'd only seen Lindstrom once in her store. She'd lied. "He must have had something fairly important to say to insist on seeing Mr. Peyton at such a bad time."

"I excused myself, of course. And then Mr. Peyton demanded that Lily go to her room. The girls' room is just as it was when they were teenagers. She argued with her father, but he was adamant. It was so upsetting!"

"I'm sure. I wonder what Lindstrom wanted?"

"I wouldn't know." Nick looked at her intently and her gaze dropped. He had a feeling he was dealing with a discreet but scrupulously honest woman. "Well, that's not quite true. I did overhear part of their conversation. I didn't mean to, but I'd gone to the kitchen and from there you can't help overhearing…"

"I understand." He took a sip of Coke. "I had a talk with Lindstrom once. He was pretty obnoxious."

"He was odious! Loud, rude. I didn't catch every word, but he kept asking questions about Warren. Did Mr. Peyton know Warren was having an affair with Charlotte Bishop? Did Mr. Peyton believe Warren had murdered Tamara? Mr. Peyton was becoming extremely agitated when suddenly Lindstrom said-"

She drew a deep breath, frowned, and looked down at her twisting hands. Don't let her stop now, Nick implored silently. But he knew this woman would not respond to pressure. He continued to look at her with interest but not avidity.

"Well, this has been bothering me," Mrs. Ebert resumed slowly. "Lindstrom said something about exposure to Mr. Peyton."

"Exposure?" Nick repeated quietly as the word screamed in his mind. "I wonder what he meant by that?"

"I haven't the faintest idea. I don't believe Mr. Peyton has any secrets. He's an honorable man. He was devoted to Mrs. Peyton. That's why I'm surprised by his involvement with Mrs. Cosgrove. She's so different…" She was wandering and Nick wanted to shout, "Get back to the point!" Extreme will power stopped him. "I wondered and wondered what this Lindstrom character could have meant by exposure," Mrs. Ebert went on. "And I think I have an idea."

Nick was leaning so far forward he nearly fell off the settee. He quickly grabbed the glass of Coke and drained it to hide his agitation.

"Do you need another drink, Sheriff?"

"No, I'm fine. You said you have an idea what Lindstrom meant by exposure?"

"I wondered if it might have something to do with Alison. I thought possibly she'd been in some mischief and Mr. Peyton wanted to protect her for Mrs. Cosgrove's sake."

"Alison? Mischief?"

"I can't think of anything else, particularly since I learned she's been going to the Saunders house at night, dressing up, listening to music. It's hard to tell what else she might have been doing."

"I see what you mean about Alison," Nick said. "What happened after Lindstrom made this threat?"

"Mr. Peyton told him to get out or he'd call the police. And Lindstrom left. Afterward I went in to see if I could do anything for Mr. Peyton, but he was quite sharp with me. The first time in ten years. But he was deeply troubled. He drank two snifters of brandy. Took them straight down. I've never seen him do that before."

"And then what?"

"Then he slammed out of the house and drove off. Lily had come out of her room by then and she was terribly worried. She went out, too. Mr. Peyton didn't return until near dawn. I know because I was too disturbed to sleep and I heard him come in."

"Where do you suppose he went?"

"I don't know." She colored slightly. "Perhaps to Mrs. Cosgrove's house. He often stays there quite late."

"And you didn't see Lily again, either?"

"Not that night." Mrs. Ebert rubbed at a shallow vertical line between her eyebrows. "I feel that I've said far too much, but Mr. Lindstrom was a terrible person. The very idea of verbally attacking Mr. Peyton on the day of his daughter's funeral! Not only that, but threatening him with exposure, of all things. It was distressing and ridiculous!"

Nick was quite sure Oliver Peyton found the threat of exposure distressing. He was not at all sure the man found it ridiculous.

After downing another glass of Coke and a second plate of Ritz crackers with cheese, Nick gave up on Oliver Peyton. "Will you tell him I need to talk with him when he comes home?" he asked Mrs. Ebert.

"Certainly. I can't guarantee that he'll contact you, though." She looked at him regretfully. "He seems to be dodging people lately. All the stress."

"I understand. But this is very important, Mrs. Ebert. Would you give me a call even if he doesn't? I won't mention your name to him." The woman looked as if she were going to refuse. "Mrs. Ebert, I'm trying to find Tamara's killer."

"All right," she said unhappily. "I'll call."

He felt slightly ashamed as he walked back to the car. He'd enlisted the woman's help by telling her he wanted to find Tamara's killer. He knew Oliver Peyton didn't murder his daughter. He wasn't so sure Oliver Peyton had not murdered Jeff Lindstrom.