The idea of contacting Jean about Lily had only surfaced when he happened to meet the adoptive parents of her daughter. Even though I was ambivalent about killing Jean, I wanted to make her suffer, he thought, without regret.

Leaving the flower on the headstone had been a stroke of genius. At the lunch table in Thayer, he had seen the distress in Jean's eyes. At the trooping of the colors before the football game, he made it his business to sit next to her. "It's a marvelous sight, isn't it?" he'd asked her.

"Yes, it is."

He knew she was thinking about Reed Thornton.

The Hellcats drum and signal corps was marching past the stand where they were sitting. Take a good look, Jeannie, he thought. Your kid is the one on this end in the second row.

After they got back to the Glen-Ridge House in Cornwall, Jean made it her business to go up in the elevator with Laura and to follow her down to her room. "Laura, honey, I need to talk to you," she said.

"Oh, Jeannie, I've just got to have a hot bath and rest," Laura protested. "Tours of West Point and going to a football game may be all very well, but I'm not one for spending hours outdoors. Can we get together later?"

"No," Jean said firmly. "I need to talk to you now."

"Only because you're such a good friend," Laura said with a sigh. She slipped the plastic key into the lock. "Welcome to the Taj Mahal." She opened the door and flipped the light switch. The lamps at the side of the bed and on the desk went on, casting uncertain light on the room already falling into shadows from the late afternoon sun.

Jean sat on the edge of the bed. "Laura, this is really important. You went to the cemetery as part of your tour, didn't you?"

Laura began to unbutton the suede jacket she had worn to West Point. "Uh-huh. Jeannie, I know you used to go up there a lot when we were at Stonecroft, but this is the first time I went through the cemetery. God, when you think of all the famous people who are buried there. General Custer. I thought they'd figured he messed up that attack he led, but now I guess, thanks to his wife, they've decided he was a hero. Standing at his grave today I thought of something you told me a long time ago, that the Indians called Custer 'Chief Yellow Hair.' You always managed to come up with things like that."

"Did everyone go on the tour to the cemetery, Laura?"

"Everyone on the bus did. Some of the people who brought their kids had their own cars, and they kind of did their own tour. I mean, I saw them wandering off by themselves. When you were a kid, did you want to look at tombstones?" Laura hung up her jacket in the closet. "Jeannie, I love you, but I have got to lie down. You should, too. Tonight's our big night. We get the medal or the plaque or whatever it is we get. You don't think they'll make us sing the school song, do you?"

Jean got up and put her hands on Laura's shoulders. "Laura, this is important. Did you notice if anyone on the bus was carrying a rose, or did you see anyone take out a rose in the cemetery?"

"A rose? No, of course not. I mean I saw some other people putting flowers on some of the graves, but no one from our crowd. Who in our group knew someone who's buried there well enough to bring flowers?"

I should have known, Jean thought. Laura wasn't paying attention to anyone who wasn't important to her. "I'll get out of your way," she promised. "What time are we due downstairs?"

"Seven o'clock cocktails, dinner at eight. We get our medals at ten o'clock. Then tomorrow it's just the memorial service for Alison and the brunch at Stonecroft."

"Are you going right back to California, Laura?"

Impulsively, Laura hugged Jean. "My plans are not yet definite, but let's say I may have a better option. See you later, honey."

When the door closed behind Jean, Laura pulled her garment bag out of the closet. As soon as the dinner was over, they would slip away. As he had said, "I've had enough of the hotel, Laura. Have an overnight bag ready, and I'll put it in my car before dinner. But keep your mouth shut. It's nobody's business where we stay tonight. We'll make up for you not realizing how great I was twenty years ago."

As she packed a cashmere jacket to wear in the morning, Laura smiled to herself. I did tell him that I definitely want to go to Alison's memorial, but I didn't care if we skipped brunch.

Then she frowned. He'd replied, "I wouldn't dream of missing Alison's memorial," but of course he meant we'd be there together.

At three o'clock in the afternoon, Sam Deegan was surprised to receive a phone call from Alice Sommers. "Sam, are you by any chance free this evening to go to a black-tie dinner?" she asked.

Sam hesitated out of pure astonishment.

"I realize this is absolutely no notice," Alice said apologetically.

"No, not at all. The answer is that, yes, I'm free, and I do have a tuxedo hanging in my closet, cleaned and pressed."

"There's a gala tonight honoring some of the graduates of the twentieth reunion class at Stonecroft. People in town were asked to buy seats for the dinner. The whole thing is really a fund-raiser for the new addition they want to put on Stonecroft. I wasn't planning to go, but there's someone being honored I want you to meet. Her name is Jean Sheridan. She used to live next door to me, and I'm very fond of her. She has a serious problem and needs some advice, and my original plan was to ask you to stop by tomorrow to talk to her about it. Then I decided it would be lovely to be there when Jean receives her medal, and…"

Sam realized that Alice Sommers' invitation had been impulsive, and she was becoming not only apologetic but perhaps was even regretting having made the phone call.

" Alice, I would enjoy going very much," he said emphatically. He did not tell her that he had been at work since 4:30 A.M. on the Helen Whelan case and had just returned home, planning to go to bed early. A nap of an hour or two will take the edge off, he thought. "I was planning to stop by tomorrow," he added.

Alice Sommers knew what he meant. "Somehow I expected that you would. If you can make it at seven at my place, I'll give you a drink first, then we'll start over to the hotel."

"It's a date. See you later, Alice." Sam hung up and sheepishly realized he was inordinately pleased to receive the invitation; then he considered the reason for it. What kind of problem could Alice 's friend, Jean Sheridan, be having? he wondered. But no matter how serious, it couldn't compare with what had happened to Helen Whelan early this morning as she was walking her dog.

This really is a big to-do, isn't it, Jean?" Gordon Amory asked.

He was sitting to her right, on the second tier of the dais where the honorees had been placed. Below them, the local congressman, the mayor of Cornwall-on-Hudson, the sponsors of the dinner, the president of Stonecroft, and several trustees were observing the packed ballroom with satisfaction.

"Yes, it is," she agreed.

"Did it occur to you to invite your mother and father to this grand occasion?"

If there had not been a wry note in Gordon's voice, Jean would have been angry, but at his touch of humor, she responded in kind. "No. Did it occur to you to invite yours?"

"Of course not. As a matter of fact, you've probably noticed that not one of our fellow honorees seems to have brought a beaming parent to share this moment of triumph."

"From what I understand, most of our parents have moved away. Mine were gone the summer I graduated from Stonecroft. Gone and split, as you may know," Jean added.