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Beau and John had been on the same page on that one.

“So why didn’t you go inside?” Swenson pressed. “The party was starting.”

Archie shrugged. “It was nice in the garden with the lights and the flowers. Peaceful. I wasn’t particularly in a party mood.”

“You don’t like parties?” Swenson sounded suspicious of such antisocial attitudes.

Archie said honestly, “No. Not much.”

Beau made a sound. Not a laugh. Not a sigh. Something sort of in-between. An acknowledgment.

That had been one of the many differences between them. Beau was a social animal. He enjoyed people and parties. It wasn’t so much that he enjoyed being the center of attention—which he usually was—but it didn’t bother him, either. He took it for granted.

For Archie, who didn’t like parties to start with, and who had been a fish out of water the minute he splashed down in Twinkleton, there had been the added strain of being in a secret relationship with the closeted hometown hero.

Beau said, “You did eventually go inside. What time was that?”

Archie hesitated, remembering the weird light in the gazebo. For many reasons, he didn’t want to withhold information in a criminal investigation. At the same time, he was liable to sound like a nut if he brought up what he’d seen. The glowing light did not seem germane to the investigation, given that he had checked out the gazebo and found it empty. But since he was shut out of the investigation, it was impossible for him to really know what was germane.

Also, if he was going to bring up glowing lights, it would have been better to do so on Saturday night when he’d first been interviewed. Now it was liable to sound sketchy.

Sketchier.

“Ten to nine.”

“Your story’s changing. On Saturday, you said you went inside at nine.”

“Are you kidding? You’re quibbling about— Yes, I went in around nine.”

“Nine or ten to nine? Because we’re looking at a tight timeline.”

That was not unreasonable. Archie should have been more precise on Saturday night. He said carefully, “I looked at my watch and it was 8:51. I realized it was later than I thought. I went inside.”

Neither Swenson nor Beau said anything.

Archie said, “I spoke to several people. I’m pretty sure someone can corroborate when I came inside.”

“Close enough,” Beau said.

“Well?”

“The problem is, pretty much everyone agrees you were acting strangely. That you seemed to go out of your way to bring attention to the fact that John was not inside the house.”

Archie stared at Beau’s impassive expression.

“I’m not following.”

“You were described by various people as ‘pale, agitated, distracted, and off.’”

“Off?”

“Wild-eyed,” supplied Swenson.

“Wild...”

Just for a moment, Archie saw a flicker of Beau’s old sense of humor. “You were always wild-eyed, so I don’t take that seriously.”

“I don’t understand how you take any of it seriously,” Archie retorted.