Samantha was speaking. "It's like I feel sorry for him and hate him at the same time. I don't want to get him in trouble, but maybe you're right."
“Don't say like," Pix said automatical y. "Why don't I tel al this to John? He knows Duncan and he also seems to know a lot about teenagers.”
Samantha brightened. "That's a great idea. Maybe he can talk to al three of them together. He's done that for some other kids who are having problems at home here.”
Duncan Cowley disposed of, Samantha wanted an update on what was going on at the Bainbridges. Pix gave her the PG-13 version and soon Samantha headed for her room to write letters to Aleford friends. There was a lot to tel .
Pix went to the phone to cal John. She was more disturbed about Duncan's behavior than she wanted Samantha to know and the sooner someone talked to the Athertons, the better. As she dialed, she realized Duncan had to be added to the list of suspects. He was clearly drug-involved and might have graduated from mice and poultry to larger game.
John answered immediately. He sounded cheerful.
"Hel o, Pix. I just sent off a large piece to a congregation in Australia."
“Congratulations"
“And I accept them. I've been working on this altarpiece for several months. Now, what can I do for you?"
John was not one for idle chitchat.
He was completely quiet as Pix related what Samantha had told her.
“And I don't know whether I should talk to Valerie and Jim, try to talk with the boy first, or what. You know him better than we do and I thought you'd have an idea about what would be best to do"
“Poor Duncan. He has never been al owed to grieve properly for his father. He feels responsible, you know. They were caught in a terrific storm and had al been taking turns at the helm—or rather, Bernard and Valerie were. Duncan was sitting up with his father to help him stay awake while his mother got some rest. The child became exhausted himself and agreed when his mother suggested he sleep for a while. That's when Bernard Cowley was washed overboard."
“How horrible!"
“I knew Duncan was fascinated with certain aspects of the occult. It's a way to make himself feel powerful, but I didn't think it had gone this far."
“The whole thing is terribly sad. I'm sure his parents wil understand."
“Maybe and maybe not. Jim is a pretty straight arrow and I'm sure any suggestion of witchcraft wil have him on the phone to that school he's always threatening Duncan with. Not that I blame Jim. .He walked into a pretty hopeless situation. There was no way Duncan would ever have accepted him."
“But we can't simply ignore this and hope it goes away.
Some night, one of the kids is going to get hurt or worse up in the quarry."
“I agree. I'm not suggesting we ignore the matter. Let me handle it. I'l talk to Valerie in private without getting too specific. This worked after Duncan took her car earlier in the summer. The main thing I'l do is start seeing more of the summer. The main thing I'l do is start seeing more of Duncan. I've been so involved in this commission that I haven't had time for him these last months. He likes to come to the workshop. I'l go see if I can round him up right now. I have the feeling it won't take much to start him talking. We've talked a great deal about the supernatural before. I've lent him some books, so he won't think it odd if I bring it up.”
Pix felt relieved, although she would have thought the Hardy Boys or, since the boy was interested in other worlds, perhaps Tolkien, more appropriate for John to have suggested.
“Thank you so much, John. And let me know how things go."
“Thank you for tel ing me." He'd been speaking in a serious tone of voice and now it took on almost a warning note. "You've had a pretty ful plate and I'm sure it hasn't been pleasant. And then there's this business with the Bainbridges. I hope you're not getting too involved."
“Involved?"
“Like that friend of yours—Faith. There are things about the island better left alone. I know you summer people think it's paradise, but paradise has a dark side, too, remember.”
Pix was stung by his remark: "summer people" She'd thought they were better friends, and even his closing words did not mol ify her.
“I just don't want anything to happen to you. I care about al the Mil ers deeply. You know that. Bow out, Pix. Bow out."
“Don't worry. Nothing is going to happen. I'l let Samantha know about what we're doing and if either of us finds out anything more, we'l let you know”
She hung up feeling much less satisfied than she had earlier in the conversation. She walked back out to the deck and picked up her list. How wel did she know John, anyway? Loaning books about the occult and supernatural to Duncan? John was a very colorful, at times charismatic figure. He had a great deal of influence over the youth of the island, most especial y Duncan Cowley, it seemed. Maybe too much? And what kind was it exactly? Mitchel Pierce had stayed with John. She had to find out why Mitch left.
She put it on the "To Do" list.
With Samantha occupied with her own writing tasks, Pix got out the folded paper and started to fil in the columns. Under "Suspects," she decided to list everyone, no matter how far-fetched, starting with Mitchel 's death.
There weren't many. Duncan Cowley, the knife wounds were suggestive of some sort of ritual slaying. Seth Marshal , just because he had access to the spot and could pour the foundation when he pleased. John Eggleston, because he might have nurtured some sort of grudge since Mitchel had lived with him or because Mitchel had found something out about John during that time. Norman Osgood. These were far-fetched, but she had to put something down. Osgood might have had some kind of fal ing-out with Mitch over antiques. Last, she wrote down Sonny Prescott's suggestion: unknown partners in crime. Of course, others could be known ones, yet as she jotted down this final possibility, she was forced to admit it made the most sense.
Now Adelaide—If, in fact, she had been murdered.
The only thing pointing toward foul play was the quilt. She went over to the "Who Benefits?" column. Adelaide may have left at least part of her estate to her nieces and nephews. Seth Marshal was a nephew. She wrote him down. Who else? Norman Osgood again? Although if he was hoping to do a book with her, that wouldn't make sense. But he was there. Maybe Addie had found out something about him. She wasn't known for her reticence.
Pix considered the other bed-and-breakfast guests and reluctantly ruled them out. Unless they were seriously deranged people, which the police were no doubt checking, she couldn't come up with any motives.
She listed Seth under "Who Benefits?" with the initials A. B. after his name. She couldn't think of any way he would benefit from Mitch's death, unless Mitch was blackmailing him. Mitch a blackmailer: It was a thought. He had been charming and eminently likable, but if desperate for money, he might have done anything. He certainly hadn't shied away from other crimes. Except he hadn't been desperate for money. He'd had a huge bank account and it was the result of what? As Jil suggested he might have made a kil ing—strike that phrase—a huge profit from the sale of something. Then again, he might also have been blackmailing someone, or more than one person. Pix sighed. She wasn't getting anyplace. Maybe you had to be in a large English country house staring out the window at the hedgerows. But at least she had a list. She'd get Mother to find out about Addie's wil . Rebecca surely must know.
“Causes of Death." Mitch was stabbed and Addie's was unknown at the moment. She'd like to cal Earl, yet she had a feeling she'd do better to wait. It was certainly too soon to know anything and she thought he probably wouldn't take kindly to being hounded right now. She remembered the look on Adelaide's face and the stench.