“Why on earth did he feel it necessary to tell you now?” my father demanded. “After all, the poor woman’s dead.”

  “Because he’s expected down at the precinct first thing tomorrow morning for another interview.” My mother cringed, and I knew how hard it was for her to share all this with us. “Tom thinks they must have found his fingerprints in Ilana’s room—on the nightstand or the bed linens, if they can get them off fabric.”

  “I believe they can,” Dylan said softly.

  “Anyway, he figured that word would get out somehow, and he didn’t want me to hear about his … indiscretion as a bit of gossip.”

  I moved to stand beside my mother and put my arm around her shoulders. “That must be a shock to your system.”

  She blinked back tears. “Especially after he swore repeatedly that nothing happened between them.”

  “Did Tom say when it happened?” Dylan asked.

  “It was the night she was murdered. After I had words with Ilana, I went back to the house we were renting, took a sedative, and fell asleep. Tom said he was too restless to watch TV. Since it was only a little past nine o’clock, he drove to the hotel to see who was around. He found Ilana in the lobby chatting with Serena. She invited him to her room for a drink, and it—just happened.” My mother rubbed at the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Just happened, my patootie. He said when it was over, he was horrified by what he had done. He got dressed and left.”

  “What time did he leave?” Dylan asked.

  “Tom wasn’t sure, but he said he was back at our place at eleven fifteen.”

  “Do you think Tom killed Ilana?” I asked.

  My mother glared at me. “Don’t be ridiculous, Carrie. Of course he didn’t.”

  “They could have argued,” Dylan said. “After all, she’d broken things off once, and suddenly she was coming on to him to make Dirk jealous. It’s enough to make any guy crazy. Add liquor to the mix.”

  My mother shook her head. “Tom’s not one to explode in anger. He internalizes his pain. Don’t think for one minute that I plan to go back to him, but I know he didn’t kill Ilana.”

  “Then who did?” my father wondered. “Someone in the cast or crew?”

  “Could be, since she opened her door to whoever it was after Tom left,” Dylan said.

  “Except I don’t see how that ties in with the other murder,” my father said.

  My mother rose to her feet. “This has been an exhausting day. I’m going to bed.”

  * * *

  My mother was still asleep when I was ready to leave for work the following morning. I considered calling Sally to say I’d be taking a personal day so I could stay home with her, but I decided I couldn’t neglect my job because of my mother’s marital problems. Besides, weird though it seemed, my father had come to Clover Ridge to offer her his support and I, for one, was glad he was here.

  I called Jim’s cell. He picked up immediately.

  “Morning, Caro. Your mother up yet?”

  “Still sleeping.”

  He chuckled. “Linda does love her beauty sleep. Dylan’s gone for the day. I’m about to run out and buy some fresh bagels to bring over to your place for our breakfast.”

  “In that case, I’ll leave the alarm off and the side door unlocked. And Dad …”

  “Something bothering you?”

  “You’re not … er … thinking of getting back together with Mom.”

  “Of course not, honey.”

  “She’s still married. And you two are so very, very different. Like water and oil.”

  My father let out a deep sigh of exasperation. “Caro, I’m simply trying to be there for your mother when she needs a shoulder to lean on. I like to think in some small way it helps make up for all the times I wasn’t there and should have been.”

  Is this my father talking? “All right, Dad. Talk to you later.”

  * * *

  Though the day was expected to eventually turn sunny, it was drizzling when I brought the cat carrier into the library. As soon as I released Smoky Joe, he took off to visit with his many friends. I walked over to the circulation desk to say hello to Angela and give her an abbreviated version of last evening.

  “It sounds like a sitcom,” Angela said with a grin. “Do you think your parents will get back together?”

  I shuddered. “My father says no, and I can’t even imagine such a thing happening. They’re two very different people in very different places in their lives. My mother just learned that her husband was unfaithful to her and that he might be charged with murder. As for Jim, I suspect he has a girlfriend he’s keeping under wraps.”

  “Do you think Tom killed Ilana?”

  “I don’t. Trouble is, I can’t imagine who did.”

  “My money’s on Dirk,” Angela said. “He was in a relationship with Ilana and he used to come to Clover Ridge to visit relatives.”

  “Still, there’s no evidence that he was here twenty years ago when Chet Harper was murdered.” I sighed. “From what I can see, there are no clues leading to any one person. There are no clues, period. John seems to focus on one suspect after another, but he can’t make his case.”

  Angela raised her eyebrows. “Maybe it’s time you did some investigating on your own.”

  “I plan to—from a safe distance. My days of chasing after suspects are over,” I said, then headed to my office.

  I’d no sooner turned on my computer than the library phone rang. It was Robby.

  “Hi, Carrie. Have you learned anything new regarding my sister’s murderer?”

  “Sorry, no. I’ve been caught up in the other homicide that may or may not be related to Daphne’s murder. For a short while, my mother was a suspect because movie people overheard her threaten Ilana Reingold. And now my mother’s husband is being questioned by the police as a possible suspect. Though I can’t see how this is connected to Daphne.”

  Robby sighed. “Me either. I’m calling to tell you that the police have released Daphne’s body. Her cremation is this afternoon. I’ve arranged a memorial service in her honor. I hope you’ll attend.”

  “I’d like to very much. When is it?”

  “Sunday, two days from now. At the Quaker meeting house down the road from the gym. I’ll text you the details.”

  “Robby, Dylan’s secretary was able to track down your mother.”

  Robby released a few deep breaths. “Really?”

  “Yes. She’s remarried and is living on Long Island. Last night we had a rather upsetting gathering at my house and I forgot to get the information from Dylan. I’ll call you back as soon as I speak to him.”

  “Thanks, Carrie. I can’t begin to tell you how much this means to me. I need to talk to my mother. Find out why she abandoned Daphne and me when we needed her.”

  “Robby.” I hesitated, knowing he wasn’t going to like what I was about to say. “She may not know herself why she left. Or give you the answer you want to hear.”

  “She owes me an explanation,” he said stiffly.

  “Do you want to hold off on Daphne’s service—until you contact your mother so you can offer her the chance to attend?”

  “No,” he said firmly. “Given how she ran out on us, she’s not welcome at the service.”

  “I understand. I’ll send you your mother’s address and whatever else Rosalind was able to find out.”

  As soon as I ended the call, Evelyn appeared. She shook her head in mock amazement. “My goodness, Carrie. There’s never a dull moment where your family’s concerned.”

  “You heard me talking to Angela.”

  She nodded. “I was passing by and happened to hear you mention your father, and so I stopped to listen to the rest.”

  “Right now Tom’s being questioned down at the police station while my father’s having breakfast with my mother,” I said. “Jim insists he’s only being a Good Samaritan.”

  “Could be that’s all there is to the matter,” Evelyn said. “Besides,” she said, perching on the edge of my assistants’ desk, “he’s not the only one who’s been looking after your mother.”

  For a minute I didn’t know to whom she was referring. “You mean me.”

  “I do.”

  “I feel sorry for her. Tom finally admitted that he betrayed her with Ilana. She says their marriage is over, but I don’t know if that’s true. Tom still loves her. And my mother’s been badly hurt. She’s not in any condition to make such a huge decision.”

  Evelyn was grinning at me.

  “What’s so funny?” I demanded.

  “Nothing. I’m smiling at your compassion. Your loving-kindness.”

  “Well, she is my mother,” I said begrudgingly. “And lately she’s been too upset to criticize me or put on airs.”

  “Perhaps, but I think you and your mother are learning to relate differently to each other.”

  “Could be,” I admitted. I smiled. “I’m glad she’s back to being Linda again.”

  “The good solid name she was born with.”

  “I suppose you heard my conversation with Robby.”

  Evelyn nodded. “I did. Dylan’s secretary located his mother. I suppose Robby is pleased that she’s been found. That should make for an interesting conversation.”

  “If she agrees to speak to him. Robby’s intent on asking his mother why she took off when she did. She may not be willing to talk about that.”

  “There are more important matters at stake,” Evelyn said.

  “Yes. Finding out if she had a lover. And if so, what was his name.”

  “I’m thinking that you’re the one person who can ask her that delicate question.” Evelyn sent me an enigmatic smile and faded before I could protest.

  Chapter Twenty

  I called Dylan to get the information about Daphne and Robby’s mother. He was on the phone with a client, but Rosalind was happy to fill me in on how she’d tracked down Patricia Harper.

  “Very clever of you,” I said, when she had told me all the details.

  “It’s all thanks to that boyfriend of yours. Dylan told me where to look, and I followed my instincts. Both helped me find what you wanted.” I heard papers rustling, then, “Patricia Harper now calls herself Sheila Rossetti. Rossetti is her married name. Here’s her address in Medford.”

  I jotted down the address and phone number and thanked Rosalind. Then I called Robby’s cell phone, but it went to voice mail.

  “Call me when you’re free,” I said. “I have your mother’s new name, address, and phone number.”

  That taken care of, I worked on the June-July newsletter for an hour. I’d just finished laying it out and getting it ready for the printer when my father called.

  “Caro, I’m down at the precinct with your mother. I think you should know. Tom’s in deep doo-doo.”

  “Why? Because his fingerprints were found in Ilana’s room? He expected them to show up, given that they’d spent time there together.” I sighed. “I hate to say it, but it looks like John is getting desperate. First Dirk, then Mom, and now Tom’s in the hot seat.”

  “Unfortunately, there’s no doubt he was there that night.”

  “Which, knowing Tom, I’m sure he didn’t deny.”

  “There’s more, Caro.”

  My heart began to race. “Tell me, Dad.”

  “Tom was seen talking to your friend Daphne Marriott.”

  “Really? Who saw him?”

  “Serena Harris said she saw them in conversation last Saturday at the meet-and-greet on the Green.”

  “So? I’m sure plenty of people stopped to speak to Tom that day.”

  “Serena also saw them talking the night Daphne was murdered. She told your friend John that Tom and Daphne were having an animated conversation in the street near Daphne’s apartment.”

  “How did Serena know who Tom was talking to?” I said.

  “She had no idea who the woman was until she saw Daphne’s picture in the newspaper. Tom is insisting he never spoke to Daphne after the event on the Green. He remembers going out for a walk the night Daphne was murdered, but the only person he says he exchanged words with that evening was a woman walking a dog. Daphne didn’t have a dog.”

  “Dad, Tom needs a lawyer.”

  “Your mother called Phil Demuth to represent Tom. Phil said he would, but if he does, he can no longer be her lawyer in case there’s a conflict of interest.”

  “Mom agreed to it?”

  “She sure did. She’s terribly upset about this latest development. She wants to do everything she can to help Tom.”

  “Is John planning to arrest Tom?”

  “We don’t know. Meanwhile, Linda plans to remain at the precinct as long as Tom’s being questioned. I’m staying with her.”

  “Thanks, Dad. Would you like me to come down there during my lunch hour?”

  “No, honey. I’ll keep you posted on what’s happening.”

  “I’m so glad you’re here in Clover Ridge.”

  “I am, too. Family has to support one another.”

  I laughed. “Interesting that you consider Mom and Tom family.”

  “The concept of family has taken on an elastic meaning these days. Gotta go. Talk to you later.”

  Trish joined me in the office, and I brought her up to date on what was happening regarding my mother and Tom and the murder cases.

  “Do you think this Serena is telling the truth?” Trish asked when I’d finished.

  “I don’t see why she has any reason to lie.”

  “Still, I think John needs more than that to hold Tom for the murder.”

  After Trish left to bring the newsletter to the printer’s, I was about to lock the office and set out for the Cozy Corner Café with Angela when Robby called me. I gave him the information regarding his mother’s whereabouts.

  “Thanks, Carrie. I appreciate this.” I heard the hesitation in his voice and waited to hear what he wanted to add. “I was wondering—would you be willing to come with me when I talk to her?”

  “I’d be happy to, though it will have to be when I’m off from work. I’m afraid I can’t take any more personal days.”

  “Of course. Let me know what day is good for you,” Robby said. “I’d like to speak to my mother next week, if possible. I’ll reschedule my appointments accordingly.”

  “I’ll let you know as soon as I get my work schedule for next week. I should have it in a day or two.”

  * * *

  Later that afternoon, while Susan and I were discussing the artwork for the August-September newsletter, my father called to say that John was allowing Tom to leave the station.

  “That’s good news,” I said. “It means John doesn’t have enough evidence to hold him.”

  “He told Tom not to leave the area.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “Er … Carrie, I’m driving your mother to the cottage so she can pack up her things. She’s moving back to the house she and Tom are renting.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “That’s what she wants, and I’m not about to argue with her.”

  “Do you think she’s doing the right thing?”

  Jim let out a deep exhalation. “Honey, when it comes to romance, I don’t even try to venture a guess. From what I’ve seen of your mother and Tom, they seem to need each other.”

  “All right. Whatever.” After a minute, I asked, “Does it upset you—Mom going back to Tom?”

  My father roared with laughter. “Not in the slightest.”

  “Dad, you have someone stashed away in Atlanta, don’t you?”

  “Honey, I gotta go. Talk to you soon.”

  “It’s a good thing you have a key to the cottage. Don’t forget to shut off the security system.”

  “Will do. It’s the first thing I do when I enter a home.”

  “Ha! Is that supposed to be a burglar joke?” I asked.

  When Dylan called shortly after, I gave him the news about my mother and Tom.

  He laughed. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised.”

  “Why do you say that?” I asked.

  “A certain type of woman is inspired to great dedication and sacrifice when the man she loves is in trouble.”

  I thought a moment. “I suppose you’re right. Besides, I think my mother and Tom truly love each other.”

  “And need each other,” Dylan added.

  “Mmm,” I agreed.

  “Like you and me, babe.”

  I grinned. “So nice to hear you say that.”

  “Hey, you want to go out for dinner tonight? I was thinking some nice quiet place. Nothing fancy.”

  “I’d love to. Things have been too hectic lately.”

  “I’ll pick you up at six thirty, quarter to seven—depending on traffic. I’ll call on my way home.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  Hardly an hour had passed when my mother called to tell me she’d moved back into the rented house. “Thanks so much for putting me up, Carrie.”

  “It was my pleasure,” I said. “Though it was under difficult circumstances, I’m glad we got to spend time together.”

  I disconnected and looked up to find Susan laughing. “What’s so funny?”

  “Your personal life is so demanding, it’s amazing you have any time for work.”

  * * *

  At five o’clock I hunted down Smoky Joe, put him in his carrier, and made my way to the parking lot. The weather was warm and balmy. Too nice to head for home just yet, so I decided to run a few errands. I drove along the Green and found a parking spot a few doors down from Gourmet Delight. The previous night’s unexpected guests had depleted my food supplies. Everything here was delicious, if rather expensive. My plan was to buy a few items and do some major supermarket shopping later on in the week when I had more time.

  I selected a bunch of asparagus and a large box of strawberries, reached for a container of their tasty chickpea salad, and decided to take advantage of the sale on salmon steaks, which I’d marinate and bake for Dylan and me over the weekend. I added a can of their outrageous pâté to my wagon, then headed for the register with the shortest line.