Warren smiled back woodenly. "Of course."

"Nice ship model you got here," Hysell intervened. Nick had an urge to bash him over the head with something heavy.

Warren Hunt looked completely confused. "Ship model?"

"Here on your mantel. It's the Mercy, isn't it?"

"The Mercy? Why, yes, I believe it is. Had it so long I forgot."

"Did you build it?"

"Build it? No. I have no interest in ships. Tamara picked it up somewhere." He looked at Nick. "Now what's all this about Tamara's time of death?"

Nick took a deep breath, trying to maintain his cool. He'd have a few choice words for Hysell when they got outside. He was also furious with Warren Hunt for playing dumb with him. Did he actually think that would work? "The time of death is very important, Dr. Hunt. You see it's fifty-five miles from here to Cleveland. You could drive that in less than an hour, which means if you and Dr. Feldman left the banquet at eight-twenty, you could have been back in Port Ariel by nine-twenty."

"By nine-twenty? Yes, I suppose I could. But why?" Warren 's eyes widened. "So I could slash my wife's throat?"

"It's a possibility we have to consider," Nick answered calmly.

"But that's preposterous! I was at the hotel all evening."

"Did anyone see you after you left the dining room?"

"I don't know. Surely someone did. A colleague. A maid. I believe I ordered a brandy from room service around eleven. No, that was the night before. Anyway, I called my wife at ten. My message is on our answering machine."

"But you didn't call from your room at the Hyatt. We checked the phone records."

"You did? Why would you do that? Oh, this ridiculous suspicion of me." Warren shook his head as if baffled and slightly amused by Nick's stupidity. "I called from my car phone, Sheriff Meredith."

"That would explain it," Nick said agreeably.

Warren managed another shaky smile. "Yes, you check my car phone records and you'll find a record of the call."

"Good." Nick paused. "Except you said you were in your room all evening."

Warren 's smile disappeared. "Well, I was. But I went out. Briefly." Nick looked at him questioningly. "To see a friend."

"And what would that friend's name be?"

"Is this really important, Sheriff?"

Nick finally gave him a hard stare. "I thought I'd already conveyed its importance, Dr. Hunt. Your wife was murdered last night. We're talking about your alibi."

Warren Hunt's carefully shaved upper lip now sported beads of sweat. "All right. But I'd appreciate your keeping this information confidential." Nick remained silent. "A female colleague- of mine was at the conference. Dr. Lorraine Glover. We decided to meet for a drink at a little bar away from the hotel."

"Why not the hotel bar?"

"We wanted some place more private."

"More private!"

Warren 's face had turned bright red. "Well, you see…" He took a deep breath. "Oh, hell. Now isn't the time for lies. Lorraine and I had an affair two years ago. It's not something I'm proud of. It's the only time I've ever been unfaithful to my wife, but Lorraine and I just… well, we just did something stupid."

"And you were going to do something stupid again?"

"No! It was just a drink for old times' sake. But back when we were having the affair, another psychologist named Henry Simon found out about it. The man is a toad. A dis grace to the profession. Anyway, he'd been after Lorraine for years and he didn't take rejection well. When he found out about the two of us, he told everyone. Lorraine 's husband almost left her."

"And Tamara?"

"She never heard about us."

"Another advantage to her being such a homebody. And a good reason for you not to encourage her to attend the convention."

Warren gave Nick a sickly smile. "Yes. I am guilty of discouraging her from attending these functions. But as I said, all Lorraine and I intended to do was have a drink. We just didn't want to be seen and start the gossip mill again. I was on my way to the bar to meet her when I remembered my ten o'clock call to Tamara, so I called from the car. Our answering machine here at the house recorded the call at 9:57. I returned to the hotel around eleven."

Nick wrote in his notebook mostly to make Warren nervous. "I understand why you didn't want to volunteer that information, but I'll have to ask for more. I need Dr. Glover's address and phone number."

"I can't give you that. It would be a violation of privacy."

Nick looked up. "Dr. Hunt, you still don't seem to comprehend the importance of establishing your whereabouts at the time of your wife's death. Now I understand you wanting to protect this woman's privacy, but given the circumstances, if you refuse to tell me how to contact her so I can verify your story, I'm going to assume you're lying."

"I am not lying."

"Then prove it."

Warren glared at him. A muscle in his jaw flexed. Finally he said, "Okay. But you cannot call her at home. Call her office. I don't know the number, but it's on High Street in Columbus."

Nick jotted down the information then snapped shut his notebook. "Sorry that had to be so difficult."

"So am I," Warren said stiffly. "Is that all?"

"For now." Nick stood. "I know you'll be around if I have any more questions. Hysell, let's be on our way. Dr. Hunt looks tired."

"Sure, Sheriff."

They paused at the door. "Once again, Dr. Hunt," Meredith said, "I'm sorry I had to put you through this. Such an awful thing, particularly with Tamara being pregnant."

Warren Hunt's face went slack. "Pregnant?" he repeated vacantly.

"Why, yes. Eight weeks. Didn't you know?"

Warren opened and shut his mouth twice. On the third try something emerged. "We hoped." Flat. "After all these years."

Hysell took Warren 's hand and shook it vigorously. "A tragedy, Warren. No Tamara, no pitter-patter of little feet."

Color drained from Warren Hunt's face and his eyes seemed to lose their focus for a moment. Nick thought he was going to pass out. Then he stiffened, muttered a curt good-bye, and slammed the door behind them.

"Well, at least we know he didn't know anything about a baby," Hysell said as they walked away from the house. "He didn't strike me as a guy who wanted a baby, either."

After they got in the patrol car and crept away from the curb, Nick opened his mouth to blast Hysell for interrupting his interrogation with that nonsense about the ship model, but Hysell began before Nick could get out a word. "That phone call he made to the house doesn't prove anything-"

"Except that he called his home from his car at 9:57. But, Hysell-"

"Oh, and did you hear him? 'It's the only time I've ever been unfaithful to my wife.' " Hysell imitated Warren 's perfect enunciation. "Bullshit!"

Nick glanced at him. "You know something I don't?"

"I've been hearing rumors about our Dr. Hunt's sex life for years. They're part of the reason Oliver Peyton can't stand him."

"Are they just rumors?"

"No. I've had my own suspicions and they just got verified."

"Now we know he'd had an affair with Lorraine Glover. I'll have to check her out. But, Hysell, I want to talk to you about-"

"Not just that Glover woman! Someone right here in Port Ariel." Nick raised an eyebrow. "You ever heard of Charlotte Bishop? Max Bishop's daughter? Max owns Bishop Corporation. They make parts for boats. He's had a couple of bad strokes, but he still controls the business."

"I know who Max Bishop is, Hysell. Everyone in town knows who Max Bishop is. And Charlotte was married to that actor-"

"Paul Fiori. He plays Eddie Salvatore on Street Life."

Eddie Salvatore. Wasn't that Jimmy Jenkins's hero? He'd have to ask Paige. "What about Charlotte?"

"Fiori dumped Charlotte when he made it big, so she came slinking home a few months ago," Hysell went on confidentially. "Well, one day I saw her coming out of Hunt's office!"