After a late night of talk and wine and more talk and champagne, not to speak of an almost seven-hour drive, finding a body, and hearing about both a wedding and a murder, Maggie hadn’t slept well. Her head hurt, her back ached, and her mind kept jumping from Gussie’s wedding to how and when she was going to tell Will she’d decided to adopt.

She’d hoped Gussie would be more supportive. Even her best friend sounded as though she was on Will’s side. Or at least on the side of telling him. Soon.

She hit the pillow and turned over, trying to block the sunlight coming through the cracks in the blinds in Gussie’s guest bedroom. The only piece of furniture left in the room was the bed, and it was directly in the path of those cheerful rays.

Maggie groaned and closed her eyes. It really was morning. Already.

She heard voices, and the tapping of Gussie’s walker in the hall. “Maggie? Maggie, wake up! Jim’s here. He thinks he should go with you to the police station.”

“I’m awake.” Maggie raised her head. “Just a minute.” She rummaged through the suitcase she’d left on the floor next to the bed and found clean underwear, jeans, and a red turtleneck, and managed to get a comb through her long, wavy hair. Five minutes later she was as presentable as she was going to get.

“Here,” said Gussie, handing her a Diet Pepsi. “I got in a supply, knowing you were coming.”

“Thank you. Nectar of the gods,” said Maggie, inhaling the liquid that she required the way others in the universe require coffee or tea. After a few gulps she managed to ask, “Do you have any aspirin?”

“I think there’s still a bottle in the bathroom medicine cabinet,” said Gussie.

Jim stood, bemused, sipping the cup of coffee he’d brought for himself. Gussie had a similar cup that held tea. He’d been warned Maggie would drink neither, but hadn’t seen her in action before.

She was back in a moment. “Okay. That’s all the personal restoration I can manage at the moment.”

“I assume you ladies had a late night?” said Jim, clearly trying to keep a straight face.

“The dinner you had delivered was delicious,” said Gussie. “And you were right. We had a lot to talk about.”

“So I can see,” he said, looking from one of them to the other. “Gussie told me Ike called about Dan Jeffrey. I thought I’d drive you to the police station this morning.”

“I don’t need you to do that,” said Maggie.

“I think you should have a lawyer with you.”

“A lawyer? Because I happened to be the one to find a body on the beach?”

“It won’t do any harm. In a murder investigation it never hurts to have a lawyer around.”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve been involved with a murder, Jim. I’ve never had any reason to have a lawyer.”

Gussie maneuvered her walker so she stood slightly in front of Jim. “Actually, that’s one of the reasons Jim thought it would be a good idea if he went with you, Maggie. You have a history of getting involved with murder investigations. Remember what happened at the New York State antiques show? And at the show in New Jersey? Not to speak of—”

“Okay, okay. I get it. You’re on his side. It’s not my fault I happen to be around when murders are committed. Don’t worry. I don’t live here, and I have no interest in getting involved in another murder investigation. No interest whatsoever.”

“Good to hear that, Maggie. But, even so, I’m going with you,” Jim said firmly. “After you finish at the police station I’ll drop you at the new store so you and Gussie can plan the rest of your day.”

“From there we’ll pay a condolence call on Cordelia,” Gussie put in. “We won’t stay long. Jim, would you pick up a dozen cupcakes at Josie’s Bakery that we could take? I don’t want to go to Cordelia’s empty-handed and I don’t have time to make anything.”

“No problem. So, Miss Maggie, let’s get ourselves over to Ike’s place of business. The sooner you take care of that, the sooner the rest of your visit in Winslow can start.”

Chief Ike Irons raised his eyebrows slightly when he saw Maggie was accompanied by Jim Dryden. “Good morning, Ms. Summer. Thank you for stopping in.”

“Good morning, Ike,” Jim interrupted. “Doctor Summer is happy to clarify anything she might have said yesterday, but since Dan Jeffrey’s death has now been identified as a murder, and Dr. Summer is a guest of Gussie’s and mine, I thought I’d accompany her to make sure everything went smoothly.”

“Of course you did,” said Ike. “But I assure you, Dr. Summer has no need of a lawyer. I just need her to verify the information she gave me under less formal circumstances yesterday afternoon.”

“Then we shouldn’t take up much of your time,” agreed Jim.

Maggie tried to keep a straight face as Jim and the chief squared off in what seemed familiar roles for both of them. She had the distinct feeling they’d share a beer if they met later that day, but right now they were in full male role-play. She could feel the testosterone level in the room rising.

“Doctor Summer, I apologize for not recognizing your medical credentials,” Chief Irons began.

“I’m not a medical doctor, Chief Irons. I have a doctorate,” Maggie interrupted. “Neither of you have to call me Doctor Summer, please.”

“Well, then. I had my secretary type up a statement based on our meeting yesterday afternoon.” He handed a typed statement across his desk to Maggie. “If you’d read it, make any corrections necessary and initial those, and sign the bottom, that will be all that’s necessary.”

“Before you make any marks on that paper, I’d like to look at it, Maggie,” Jim said quietly. “But go ahead and read it. Any leads in the case so far, Ike?”

“There’s hardly been time to do much now, has there? I’ll be talking to Bob Silva. He was convinced Dan was the one got his Tony into drugs. And Dan spent time at the Lazy Lobster, so Rocky Costa might have seen or heard something. I have to get one of those interpreters to help me talk with Cordelia. She was mighty upset when I saw her last night, not surprisingly. But she might have information she doesn’t know is helpful.”

Jim nodded. Maggie handed him the statement so he could read it through. “Any corrections, Maggie?”

“No. It’s pretty straightforward.”

“Then go ahead and sign it. I’ll co-sign as your witness and lawyer.”

She nodded.

“Maggie here’s familiar with ASL. Didn’t you say that last night, Maggie?”

“I can get along in it. But I’m not fluent. In a murder investigation the chief will need an interpreter who can understand all the nuances of the language. I couldn’t do that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Dr. Summer. I’ve put in a call to a professional interpreter who’ll be here later today.” Chief Irons stood. “Thank you for coming in. If you think of anything else from yesterday that might help us, please let us know.” He turned toward Jim and bowed slightly. “Or have your lawyer notify us.”

“I’ll do that,” said Maggie.

Gussie’s new shop was on Main Street, not far from the police station, within sight of the classic white Congregational Church at the end of the Green that Jim pointed out as the location for the wedding.

“It looks perfect,” Maggie agreed. “Just right for a Winslow wedding.”

“That’s why we chose it,” said Jim. “We’re not big churchgoers, but Gussie’s family have been members there for years. She took her first communion there, and her parents and sister had their weddings there. Plus, it’s in the heart of the town, so it’s easy to find, and it’s classic. It reflects what we wanted for our ceremony. A little old-fashioned, simple, and elegant.”

Maggie looked at him. “What does your mother think of it?”

“She’s more the high-Episcopalian type, complete with incense and robes, but this is the only church in town, thank goodness, so we said it was this church or no church. I think she’s going to add some decorations. She said something about talking with the minister. That’ll keep her busy and happy once she gets here. I’m not even going to bother Gussie about it. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”