“And I got my mug back!”

“Maybe you should volunteer to help with the dredging if they ever decide to do it,” Sam suggested, a broad smile on his face.

“I wouldn’t hold my breath. You know, I’ve been thinking about Courtney all night. It’s why I couldn’t sleep. And I have some ideas about her disappearance.”

“Let me get some of your dreadful coffee and you can tell me all about it.”

Josie spent a few minutes organizing her thoughts. She’d present Sam with her theories in a manner he couldn’t ignore.

“Okay. Start,” he ordered, passing her some coffee and sitting down on the old ice chest that was a permanent fixture back there.

“Well, think a minute. The first thing we need to know is whether Courtney was working alone or with someone else-”

“Not whether she’s dead or alive?”

“I’m assuming she’s alive.”

“Really? That’s interesting. Go on.”

“Well, as I was saying, the first thing we need to know is whether or not Courtney had someone helping her disappear. I think she probably did.”

“Why?”

“Because you can’t be in two places at once, right?”

“I wouldn’t even consider arguing with you-or anyone else-about that.”

“So I think the other person was necessary to leave the note in her dressing room.”

“And when do you think that happened?”

“I should tell you this in order. I figure Courtney and this other person-”

“Call him-or her-X, why don’t you?”

“Good idea. I think Courtney and X either wrote the note together or Courtney wrote it and gave it to this X. So while Courtney was with me on the front deck of the house-”

“What were you two doing on the deck?”

“I told you. She was interviewing me. And we weren’t alone. Bobby Valentine was there as well as the cameraman. I guess that means neither of them could be X, right?”

“If your logic holds, yes.”

Josie smiled. “So while Courtney was interviewing me, X put the note in her trailer. Then, probably… I’m a bit less sure about this,” she admitted. “Then Courtney either disguised herself or… X somehow packed Courtney in… something and carried her away.”

“Alive.”

“Oh, yes, alive.”

“Josie, it’s early and perhaps I’m missing something here, but why are you so sure Courtney is alive?”

“Because she’s the type of person who would do something like this!”

“Something like fake her own death?”

“Yes, she was always like that…” Josie shut up, appalled at what she had done.

Sam was quiet a moment, looking out over the bay. A few gulls had appeared, gliding on the air currents, apparently thrilled to have made it through the night. A slight breeze was blowing, spreading the unmistakable scent of the littoral plain. Josie raised her mug to her lips and waited for Sam to speak.

“When you say she was always like that, you are referring to what time?”

“I knew Courtney before,” Josie admitted.

“I was beginning to get that impression. How long ago did you meet?”

Josie thought for a moment. “I guess it was in the Brownies.”

“Excuse me?”

“I think we were in the same Brownie troop. That would be about second or third grade, right?”

“I honestly have no idea.”

“I thought maybe no one would have to know about this,” Josie admitted.

“About what? Your past relationship with Courtney?”

“We didn’t actually have a relationship,” Josie protested. “We just knew each other.”

“You mean you haven’t seen her since… you were in elementary school?”

“Oh, no, we went through junior high and high school together.” She paused. “And we started off at the same college. I suppose she may have stayed around long enough to graduate.”

“Let me get this straight. You were-are-lifelong friends with Courtney Castle.”

“No, Sam! It’s not like that at all! We weren’t friends. We could hardly stand each other.”

“I was hoping you weren’t going to say something like that.” Now it was Sam’s turn to sigh. “Josie, I would really appreciate it if you would tell me all about your relationship- friendly or not-with Courtney Castle.”

“It’s sort of a long story.”

“I really think it’s worth taking the time to tell it.”

“Well, I don’t know where to begin.” She took a deep breath. “Our mothers were best friends, you see. They were roommates in college. Which is why Courtney and I ended up at the same college years later.”

“You’re not telling me that you and Courtney were college roommates?”

“No way! We were hardly speaking to each other by the time we went to college.”

“Josie, I’ve done my share of questioning of witnesses. Some tell you nothing. And some tell you so much that it takes a lot of work to figure out what’s important. The second type is the most irritating. And you’re beginning to remind me of them.”

“I’m sorry. It was stupid to think I wouldn’t have to tell you this.

“At first I didn’t believe it,” she continued. “I mean, I thought I must be imagining things. That maybe Courtney Castle just looked like the woman I used to know. It’s been years, remember.”

“It is a rather unusual name though.”

“Oh, her name wasn’t Courtney Castle when I was growing up. I knew her as Courtney Casell. The spelling is different,” she explained when Sam gave her a strange look.

“But you did recognize her,” Sam prodded her.

“Not at first. She was older, of course. And when I knew her she had straight, thin brown hair.”

“It’s amazing what money, time, and a good hairdresser can do,” Sam commented.

“Yeah, I guess.” She hoped that wasn’t a hint.

“But you did recognize her eventually.”

“Yes. I don’t know why I didn’t say anything. I just couldn’t believe it! I mean, here we were in the same business, sort of. Of course, she’s famous and on television and all, and I just have Island Contracting here, but we’re both carpenters and all. At least, that’s what I thought at the time. I was so stunned that I didn’t really think about how little building she actually did. She’s more of an interviewer than a carpenter.”

“You met her when you were in second or third grade?” Sam’s question headed her back to the point.

“Yes. Our mothers had known each other forever, but my family moved that year. Up.”

“You moved up?”

“Exactly. My father got a promotion-I guess-and we moved to a bigger house in a nicer neighborhood. I changed schools and started in the Brownies. And met Courtney.”

“And you were friends?”

“Never. I don’t remember all that well, but I’ve been thinking about it for the past few days and I don’t think we ever had a chance to become friends. You see, my mother wanted me to be like Courtney and she was very open about her feelings. Even a kid isn’t going to like someone her mother holds up as a good example. Courtney was thin. Courtney was a straight-A student. Courtney was popular. Courtney could play the piano. Courtney was on the swim team and, despite my extra fat, I sank like a stone to the bottom of the country club pool.” She noticed Sam’s eyebrows rise at the mention of her family’s club membership, but she didn’t feel she had to explain her entire past right then. “You get the idea. I couldn’t like someone I was always being compared to.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

“And I was jealous as hell of her. Over little things. Like my mother’s idea of an appropriate bedroom for a young girl included lots of ruffles and fake French-country furniture. I slept in a canopied bed until I went off to college. In fact, I may have gone off to college just to get away from that horrible room. I wasn’t even allowed to put up posters on my own walls. And that wallpaper desperately needed to be covered! My mother,” she explained, “loved cabbage roses.”

“I don’t think I know what they are.”

“You’re lucky. So was Courtney. She slept in a room furnished with teak Scandinavian furniture. I used to think she could stay in that room and imagine she was living in an apartment in Greenwich Village even though she lived a few blocks away from me in a conventional upper-middle-class suburb. And when she was in high school the rock posters were so thick on her walls that she probably didn’t even have to turn on the heat in the winter.” She paused. “I was jealous of her.”