Page 20

Ellery cleared his throat.

Jack added, “In a manner of speaking.” He brooded for a moment. “Their current position is that I’m still not over everything that happened with Hannah and the baby.”

“Ah.”And who could say they were completely wrong. Did you ever really, completely get over that kind of tragedy?

Jack offered a weary, apologetic smile. “They mean well, but…”

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions?”

“Yeah. They wouldn’t deliberately be hurtful, but they could hurt you all the same.”

Ellery studied Jack’s troubled face. He smiled with what he hoped was reassurance. “Forewarned is forearmed. And you know, I’m not going to crumple up and die because someone says something thoughtless. Have you ever seen my reviews for theHappy Halloweenfilms?”

“Er, no.”

“Brutal,” Ellery assured him cheerfully. “So long aswe’reon the same page, I can handle your family’s…doubts.”

Jack closed his eyes as though Ellery was the one who’d said something hurtful, but then his lashes lifted and he rested his hand against Ellery’s cheek. “I’m very lucky to have you in my life. Don’t think I don’t know that.”

“It wasn’t luck,” Ellery said. “It was persistence, determination, patience, your beautiful blue-green-green-blue eyes, and the fact that you like my dog.”

Jack laughed. “I do like your dog.” He reached for the lamp switch. “And I do like you.”

Chapter Six

“I bet you’re sorry you let Carter talk you into this gig.” Lara Fairplay smiled faintly as she drizzled honey into her tea.

“I’m happy to help,” Ellery replied. “But honestly, if someone really is stalking you, you should go to the police.”

They were having breakfast in Lara’s sunny suite at the Seacrest Inn. It was just the two of them. No sign of Neilson or Jocasta, which made Ellery hopeful he might finally something useful. This Lara, barefoot with a thin, pink, silk dressing gown thrown over jeans and T-shirt, seemed quite different from the Lara of the previous day. More open? Less guarded maybe? Or maybe she’d just finally had a good night’s sleep. The sound of the waves at night was pretty soothing.

Lara said, “I’d rather die than ask the police for help.” She took a bite of jam-slathered English muffin, adding, “No offense.”

“No offense?”

“I know you’re tight with the police chief.”

“He’s a good friend, but that would be my advice anyway. I’m not a professional investigator or anything like that. Whereas Jack—our chief of police—has a ton of experience. He was a homicide cop in LA before he moved to the island. Plus, he’s a really nice guy. He’s got a good heart.”

She said gently, “When I say no, I mean no.”

Ellery considered her for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Well, I tried.”

“Yep. On my head be it.”

“I guess then we should start with the obvious question. Who do you think is sending these threats? Could it have to do with performing the Stephen Foster song?”

Lara’s lips parted. “You know, that never occurred to me. I guess anything’s possible. There are probably people out there who resent the idea that I’d have the audacity to complete Foster’s work. There are people who don’t think his music should be played at all.” She shrugged. “Is it possible? I guess so. I don’t think it’s likely.”

“Then what do you think is going on?”

Lara meditatively crunched her muffin. She swallowed finally, and said, “First, you have to understand that I get a lot of weird and threatening email. Even before Dawn Shumway. It’s the nature of the business. People I barely know, heck, people I’ve never met, ask for favors. Ask?” She gave a short laugh. “Trydemand. Or they blame me because their own music career didn’t pan out. It’s white noise. You get used to it. What makes this different—potentially different—is that these letters came from Pirate’s Cove. And I do know—well, used to know—a couple of people in Pirate’s Cove who might still be holding a grudge. It seems like they’d have outgrown all that by now, but maybe not.”

“Who?”

“Arti Rathbone and James Sutherland. Assuming they even still live on the island. They might not.”

The Rathbone name was familiar, but James Sutherland rang no bells.