He looked down, lines digging into his forehead. "Just as she was paying for the champagne, in came a couple of punks with guns. The clerk had to play hero and go for the owner's gun under the counter." He drew a deep breath. 'The punks started shooting. Two people were injured slightly. The clerk took a bullet in the head and died instantly. They got Meagan in the abdomen and the neck-the carotid artery. She lived four hours."

"Nick, I'm so sorry."

"If only I'd gone for the champagne. Instead I was sitting at home with my shoes off watching television while my wife-"

"You couldn't possibly have known what would happen," Natalie interrupted firmly. "Certainly she'd gone to that store before and there weren't any robberies. It was a random event. You can't control the world."

"More's the pity."

"It's a pity, but it's also a fact." Natalie added hesitantly, "Paige never said a word about what happened to her mother."

"She never does and it really worries me. I don't want her to dwell on her mother's death, but she won't discuss it at all. I know she thinks about it constantly, though. They were so close. She adored her mother," Nick said raggedly. "For five months after Meagan's death I went around in a haze, furious one minute, lost in grief the next. I even got this weird silver streak in my hair."

He paused and drew a deep breath. "Then Meagan's sister Jan started making noises about getting custody of Paige. That scared the hell out of me. There I was single and with a high-risk job. Not an ideal father, and Jan's husband has powerful contacts in the New York judicial system. So I pulled myself together and decided I had to get Paige out of New York, away from the memories, away from the threat of Jan, away from the danger of the city because if I lost her, too…"

Nick laughed mirthlessly. "I started looking frantically for jobs in small places. Someone I knew who vacationed here every summer told me about Port Ariel. I came and looked it over and discovered I could get on the police force. It seemed like a miracle, even if I had to work for Sheriff Purdue. Then came the election. I ran and to my amazement, I won. I thought I had it made. I was the sheriff of a beautiful little town. I'd made a home for my child in a safe haven, or so I thought."

"Port Ariel usually is a safe haven."

"I guess I was just lucky enough to move here and become sheriff when all hell is breaking loose. People are looking to me for answers."

"And you'll find them."

His dark blue eyes were anguished and the scar on his forehead turned dead white against the tanned skin. "Do you really believe that?"

"Yes," Natalie said sincerely. "Don't start doubting yourself now."

Nick studied her oval face, the fine skin, the intensely dark eyes with that beautiful slight slant. She not only looked lovely, she looked calm and intelligent and full of good sense. He suddenly felt astounded that he'd told her not only about Meagan's murder, but also his anxiety over his daughter's safety and her refusal to discuss her lost mother. Natalie had sat there with her warm milk and cinnamon, her soft husky voice, her tranquil manner, and elicited his darkest memory and his deepest fears. "Well, I'm a laugh a minute, aren't I?" he asked dryly.

"You're tired and worried." She smiled. "You're human."

"I don't think the citizens of Port Ariel want a human for a sheriff right now. They want a superhero."

"Can you blame them? They're scared."

"You don't seem scared, even after your visit to The Blue Lady."

Natalie flushed. "Can we please forget that appalling lapse of good sense? I'm not usually such a fool. And for the record, I'm just as scared as everyone else."

"And you're also full of questions about the murders."

"Maybe now isn't the time for me to be asking questions."

"Because I sound like I might blow into a million pieces? I won't. I never do. And it might help me to talk about all of this. Actually I have a few questions of my own."

Natalie raised an eyebrow. "Quid pro quo? You trust my assessments even after our meeting at The Blue Lady?"

"No one shows perfect judgment all the time." Nick smiled. "Not even me."

"I'm glad you can be forgiving. Okay. What can I tell you?"

He leaned forward. "Did you know Warren Hunt was involved with Charlotte Bishop?"

She shook her head. "Lily can't-couldn't-stand him and I think she suspected affairs, but she never mentioned anyone in particular. Frankly I'm shocked to hear about him and Charlotte."

"Why?"

" Warren was a nice-looking man, a professional, but Charlotte was beautiful and rich and fresh out of a marriage to a gorgeous television star. Warren Hunt seems a bit mundane for her."

"I thought the same thing. About Warren being boring after what she's used to, not about Paul Fiori being gorgeous." She made a face at him. "So you have no idea how long they've been seeing each other?"

"Certainly not when Charlotte was in California. The affair must have started after she came back to Port Ariel just a few months ago."

"Do you think Lily knew about it?"

"No. If she had, she would have told me."

"You're absolutely sure? Maybe she was being discreet."

"Lily is not discreet, particularly around me," Natalie said wryly. "Now it's my turn. Were Warren and Charlotte murdered like Tamara?"

"Yes. Throats slashed. As of now it looks like the same or a similar weapon was used. A long-bladed razor. We found Warren in the living room or whatever they call it on a boat. He'd been murdered on deck, though. Charlotte was in the bedroom." He paused. "On the wall was written in blood, 'open tomb.' "

Natalie drew a sharp breath. " 'Their throat is an open tomb.' The Biblical quotation the woman said on the phone and in the dance pavilion."

"Do you know where in the Bible the quotation is from?"

"I'm not a Bible scholar, but she told me it was Romans. She even said the chapter, but I don't remember. I was going to look it up at home, but I couldn't find Dad's Bible. I don't know if he even has one. He's never been particularly religious. Da you happen to have one?"

Nick rose from the table. In a moment he returned with a large, battered Bible. He handed it to Natalie. When she flipped it open, she saw a list of births and deaths recorded in various shades of faded ink. The last was for Meagan Marie Lincoln Meredith. She quickly riffled pages until she came to Romans. She began scanning pages and after only a couple of minutes she said, "Here it is!"

"That was quick."

"It's in chapter three, in italics, no less! Must be bad."

"Read it to me. I'm so tired my eyes are blurry." Natalie read slowly and clearly:

" 'There is none righteous, no, not one; There is none who understands; There is none who seeks after God. They have all gone out of the way; They have together become unprofitable; There is none who does good, no, not one.

Their throat is an open tomb; With their tongues they have practiced deceit; The poison of asps is under their lips; Whose mouth is full of cursing and bitterness. Their feet are swift to shed blood; Destruction and misery are in their ways; And the way of peace they have not known. There is no fear of God before their eyes.' "

Nick sighed. "Well, that was cheerful."

Natalie frowned. "The reference to their throats being open tombs is obvious because all the victims had their throats slashed. But what about 'they have practiced deceit'? Warren and Charlotte were deceitful, but Tamara? She was probably the most honest person I've ever known."

"It says none seek after God. That could mean none of the victims was religious."

"I don't know about Warren and Charlotte, but Tamara was a devout Catholic. 'Destruction and misery are in their ways,' 'There is none who does good.' You could apply those lines to Warren and Charlotte, but not Tamara. Nick, nothing in this quotation fits Tam."