"Did it sound like the voice you heard in The Blue Lady?"

"Yes, only more breathy."

"So you went where the voice asked you to go and you ran into Jeff Lindstrom, who'd been hanging around for hours and who asked you a lot of questions and acted like he might do something to you. Maybe he has more to do with this than we guessed."

"You think he could be the murderer? What does he have to do with Tam, Charlotte, and Warren?"

"Maybe Charlotte is the key. Maybe there was something between them before she came back here."

"She threw over Jeff for Warren? Well, that could explain him killing Charlotte and Warren, but why Tam?"

"I don't know. I'm just throwing out possibilities."

"What about my anonymous calls and the incident at The Blue Lady?"

Nick's face had turned tired and grim. "The voice on the phone and in The Blue Lady sounded like Tamara's. It couldn't have been Lindstrom unless he electronically altered his voice."

"I don't know how that works."

"It's fairly easy to come by the devices you need. Or he might have gotten someone to make the calls for him. How long did you walk on the shoreline before you went to the pavilion?"

"Around twenty minutes."

"If Lindstrom was watching you, that would have given him plenty of time to make a call on a cell phone and get someone to the pavilion."

"How could he know I'd go to The Blue Lady?"

"He could have lured you there-done something to set off the dog so she'd follow him and hoped you'd go inside. Hell, maybe he knew you actually used to go in there and might not be afraid."

"How could he know that?"

"He learned it from the woman who's making these calls for him, someone who's involved with him, someone who knows you."

"Nick, he hasn't been in town long enough to get seriously involved with anyone."

"We don't know how often he's been in this town, Natalie. This doesn't have to be his first visit."

"I guess you're right. Then there's the earring."

"Are you sure it was Tamara's?"

"If it's not hers it's one exactly like it and what are the chances of that? Two years ago I gave Lily and Tamara earrings for their birthday. Lily's had amethysts in a modern bezel setting. Tam's were the old-fashioned filigree." She reached in her pocket and withdrew the earring wrapped in a tissue. "The back is gone. Also, Jimmy handled it, so there probably aren't any good fingerprints."

"You never know," Nick said, holding up the earring by the post. The small amethyst glittered in the light. "I'll check to see if Tamara was wearing only one earring. Some killers take trophies from their victims, you know."

"That would explain him carrying it around."

Nick stood. "I think I need to have a talk with Mr. Lindstrom." He set his Styrofoam cup down beside the coffee urn. "I'll call you tomorrow and tell you what I found out. I also need to talk to Viveca Cosgrove and Oliver Peyton."

"Why?"

"Farley stole the money, because he wanted Viveca back. Peyton was his lawyer. They both have daughters who need to be careful."

"Do you really think this person might go after Alison and Lily?"

"Yes, I do." He paused. "Natalie, Farley didn't die immediately from the shot to the head. He was taken to the hospital. He died while your father was performing surgery, surgery someone claimed your father botched." He gave her a long, penetrating look. "And Andrew St. John has a daughter, too."

Andrew and Ruth arrived only minutes after Nick left. Andrew wore the haggard look that meant he'd done several surgeries. Ruth was bright-eyed and stylish in dark green and pearls.

"Sorry I'm late, honey," Andrew said to Natalie. "Harder day than I expected."

"That's all right. Even Oliver delayed his appearance."

"I thought I saw the sheriff in the parking lot," Ruth offered. "Has he learned anything else about the case?"

"I don't think so," Natalie said vaguely. Now was certainly not the time to go into Ted Hysell's theory about the connection among the victims. "He just stopped by as a courtesy. He'll probably come to the funeral, too. Come say a few words to Lily, Dad. She's not in good shape."

Andrew might have disapproved of Lily through the years, but he was all gentle concern tonight. Oliver did not unbend, looking at Andrew as if he'd never seen him before.

Viveca rushed over. Natalie cringed inwardly, but her father showed no emotion. Viveca might have bewitched Eugene Farley and Oliver Peyton, but apparently she had little effect on Andrew St. John. He introduced her to Ruth, and Natalie smiled inwardly as she noticed Viveca's blue eyes sweep over Ruth, quickly calculating the cost of her clothes and deciding whether the pearls were real. Ruth was probably ten years older than Viveca, but she held her own in the style department. Ruth looked calm and secure as she talked quietly with mourners. The woman had class, Natalie thought appreciatively. She also seemed to have made quite a few friends during her short time in Port Ariel, judging by the familiar way she talked to many of the guests.

The wake officially ended at nine o'clock. A few stragglers stayed behind talking about everything except the murder. "I'm going to take Ruth home now," Andrew told Natalie.

"All right. I'll stay and help Lily-"

"No you won't." Lily had materialized in front of her. "You look exhausted, Nat. Please go home. I feel drained, and I still have to get through the funeral tomorrow. I'll really need you then, so you'd better get some rest."

Natalie put up a feeble argument, then dropped it. Lily was right. She was tired, and tomorrow would be long and nerve-wracking. She needed to soak some of her tight muscles in a hot bath and try to drift into what she hoped would be a dreamless sleep.

Andrew had brought Ruth, who asked him to take her by his house so she could retrieve the sunglasses she'd left when she dropped by that morning. Natalie followed the couple in her car, and ten minutes later Blaine joyfully greeted everyone, her tail wagging at the sight of human company. Natalie realized she felt as if the dog had always been part of her life.

She talked Ruth into staying for pie and coffee. They all settled into the living room that glowed with soft lamplight to rehash the evening.

"So many people!" Ruth said. "Tamara had many friends."

"I think most were friends of Oliver and Lily," Natalie explained. "Tamara stayed to herself."

Ruth smiled. "So I've heard. I've been to Curious Things several times and met Lily. She seemed like an extrovert, a fun-lover."

"That's an understatement," Andrew put in. "I used to wish Natalie were closer to Tamara than Lily. Tamara might have curbed my daughter's rebellious streak."

"You weren't able to," Ruth returned tartly. "Frankly, I find high-spirited young women charming. I used to be one. Now I'm quite tame and boring."

"You aren't boring," Andrew announced.

"Church work and a cat. I am boring, just like most women my age." Except for my mother, Natalie thought sourly. "Local gossip tells me Tamara lived like someone at least twice her age, but everyone agrees she was goodhearted." Ruth sighed. "It's such a shame she had to die."

Natalie felt tears well in her eyes. She blinked furiously and stood. "More coffee or-" Her voice broke and she emitted a ragged, "Oh!"

Ruth stood and came toward her. "Natalie, you're a wreck." She patted Natalie's shoulder while Andrew looked at her apprehensively. He'd never known how to handle emotional scenes. After Kira left, Natalie had frequently burst into torrents of tears for her lost mother. Andrew always responded with an agony of blundering, ineffectual distress. Natalie had felt so bad about his misery at the sight of hers that she'd learned to save her tears for times when she was alone. Finally she had squelched them completely, pushing her grief far down and covering it with a blanket of resentment. Bitterness Andrew could handle, anguish he could not.; "I'm sorry," Natalie squeaked out around the lump in her throat. "This is so silly…"