Rating: ★★★★☆ Tags: Mystery Detective, General, Fiction

This is unacceptable … no more
coffee, thanks … it’s unbelievable that … uh, sure, rye is
fine
…
Before we were done, Boney interrupted. ‘I
understand, guys, it’s natural to want to feel involved. But
what you did was dangerous. You have got to let us handle
this kind of thing.’
‘That’s just it, though, you aren’t handling it,’ I said.
‘You’d never have gotten this information, about the gun, if
we didn’t go out there last night. What did Lonnie say when
you talked to him?’
‘Same thing you said he said,’ Gilpin said. ‘Amy
wanted to buy a gun, she was scared.’
‘You don’t seem that impressed by this information,’ I
snapped. ‘Do you think he was lying?’
‘We don’t think he was lying,’ Boney said. ‘There’s no
reason for the guy to invite police attention to himself. He
seemed very struck by your wife. Very … I don’t know,
rattled that this had happened to her. He remembered

---

specific details. Nick, he said she was wearing a green
scarf that day. You know, not a winter scarf but a fashion-
statement scarf.’ She made fluttery moves with her fingers
to show she thought fashion to be childish, unworthy of her
attention. ‘Emerald green. Ring a bell?’
I nodded. ‘She has one she wears with blue jeans a
lot.’
‘And a pin on her jacket – a gold cursive A?’
‘Yes.’
Boney shrugged: 
Well, that settles it
.
‘You don’t think he might have been so struck by her
that he … kidnapped her?’ I asked.
‘He has an alibi. Rock-solid,’ Boney said, giving me a
pointed look. ‘To tell the truth, we’ve begun to look for … a
different kind of motive.’
‘Something more … personal,’ Gilpin added. He
looked dubiously at his pancakes, topped with strawberries
and puffs of whipped cream. He began scraping them to
the side of his plate.
‘More personal,’ I said. ‘So does that mean you’re
finally going to talk to Desi Collings, or Hilary Handy? Or do
I need to?’ I had, in fact, promised Marybeth I’d go today.
‘Sure, we will,’ Boney said. She had the placating tone
of a girl promising her pesky mom to eat better. ‘We doubt
it’s a lead – but we’ll talk to them.’
‘Well, great, thanks for doing your job, kind of,’ I said.
‘And what about Noelle Hawthorne? If you want someone
close to home, she’s right in our complex, and she seems a
little obsessed with Amy.’
‘I know, she’s called us, and she’s on our list.’ Gilpin
nodded. ‘Today.’

---

‘Good. What else are you doing?’
‘Nick, we’d actually like you to make some time for us,
let us pick your brain a bit more,’ Boney said. ‘Spouses
often know more than they realize. We’d like you to think a
bit more about the argument – that barnburner your
neighbor Mrs., uh, Teverer overheard you and Amy having
the night before she went missing.’
Rand’s head jerked toward me.
Jan Teverer, the Christian casserole lady who wouldn’t
meet my eye anymore.
‘I mean, could it have been because – I know this is
hard to hear, Mr Elliott – because Amy was under the
influence of something?’ Boney asked. Innocent eyes. ‘I
mean, maybe she 
has
had contact with less savory
elements in town. There are plenty of other drug dealers.
Maybe she got in over her head, and that’s why she wanted
a gun. There’s got to be a reason she wants a gun for
protection and doesn’t tell her husband. And Nick, we’d like
you to think harder about where you were between that time
– the time of the argument, about eleven p.m., the last
anyone heard Amy’s voice—’
‘Besides me.’
‘Besides you – and noon, when you arrived at your bar.
If you were out and about in this town, driving to the beach,
hanging around the dock area, someone must have seen
you. Even if it was someone just, you know, walking his
dog. If you can help us, I think that would be really …’
‘Helpful,’ Gilpin finished. He speared a strawberry.
They both watched me attentively, congenially. ‘It’d be
super-helpful, Nick,’ Gilpin repeated more pleasantly. First
time I’d heard about the argument – that they knew about it

---

– and they chose to tell me in front of Rand – and they
chose to pretend it wasn’t a gotcha.
‘Sure thing,’ I said.
‘You mind telling us what it was about?’ Boney asked.
‘The argument?’
‘What did Mrs Teverer tell you it was about?’
‘I hate to take her word when I got you right here.’ She
poured some cream into her coffee.
‘It was such a nothing argument,’ I began. ‘That’s why I
never mentioned it. Just both of us scrapping at each other,
the way couples do sometimes.’
Rand looked at me as if he had no clue what I was
talking about: