Page 21 of One Last Goodbye

I suppose I fixate on them because they’re in front of me right now, and it’s easier to think about them than about the scene in the boathouse behind me.

The guests are all clustered in groups. Catherine is with her children. I was with them until an hour ago when they were separated to be interviewed by police officers. I haven’t seen them since.

The children, of course, aren’t doing well. Olivia weeps nonstop, and Ethan shuts down completely. He stares ahead in shock, and when he’s spoken to, he replies with nods and headshakes rather than words.

Catherine is difficult to read. When I tell her what I’ve found in the boathouse, she is silent for a moment. Then she thanks me and with help from Hugo and Thomas, she alerts the authorities and informs the guests. She sheds no tears, but that’s not unheard of when dealing with such shocking news.

Only she doesn’t seem to be in shock. Ethan is in shock. He has disassociated utterly from his surroundings. Veronica Baines is also in shock. She stands on the opposite side of theporch with her hands wrapped across her chest, shivering like a leaf, and not entirely from the cold.

Strauss is among the first to be whisked away by the police to be interviewed. I don’t get to see her reaction. As for the other guests, they run the gamut from fear to anger to annoyance at the inconvenience they’ll undoubtedly have to suffer just for being here.

As for me… well, I’m thinking about police lights.

“Mary Wilcox?”

I lift my head to see a balding man with grey whiskers wearing the uniform of a police inspector looking down at me. He holds a clipboard, and his name badge identifies him as L. Dubois. He looks expectantly at me, and I blink and say, “Yes, that’s me.”

He extends his hand. “Detective Laurent Dubois of the Geneva Police. May I speak with you for a moment?”

His English is accented but understandable. I nod, but before I stand, my brow furrows. “Why did you take so long to get to me? I discovered the body. Shouldn’t I have been talked to first?”

“Yes,” he says, “I’m not sure what the hell was going on before I got here.”

“So you’ve just arrived?”

“I was visiting my mother in Bern when I received the call. It’s a two-hour drive to get here. I asked my subordinates to begin the interviews, but I’m not sure why they didn’t start with you. In any case, that’s a problem I can fix. Will you come with me, please?”

I follow him into the house. The police have taken several of the rooms to use for the interviews, and I overhear snippets of conversation as he leads me toward the servants’ quarters. I am somewhat disturbed when he leads me into my own room to conduct our interview.

He sits with evident relief in the large upholstered chair in my room. I suppose I am to sit on the bed, so I do.

“Tell me what you saw.”

Mother’s eyes are lifeless. Annie beats at her arms, but they remain rigid. She stares at her drowning daughter and shows not so much as a—

I shiver and release a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Take your time,” he says gently. “You’ve suffered a great shock.”

“I’ll say.” I lift my hand to my mouth and realize to my dismay that I’m motioning as though lifting a cigarette, something I haven’t done in decades.

Dubois reaches for the pack in his pocket, but I shake my head. “No, thank you.” I take a deep breath, then say, “The children and I were watching movies in the theater. I went to the kitchen for more snacks, but on the way, I was stopped by Mrs. Jensen, who asked if I could go find her husband for her.”

“Mrs. Jensen asked you to find Frederick?”

“She did, yes.”

“Why you?”

I lift my hands and let them drop. “Hell if I know.” I am not a vulgar woman, but I’ve had a trying evening, so I forgive myself for the curse word.

“She didn’t give you a reason?”

“She said that he likes me, and he’ll listen to me.”

“Do you find that to be true?” he asks.

“That he’ll listen to me?”

---