Page 47 of The Summer Guests

Ben’s doorbell chimed. “Speak of the devil,” he said.

As Ben went to answer the door, Lloyd filled the cocktail shaker with more ice and gin and was happily rattling the cubes when Jo walked onto the patio with Ben. The poor girl looked like she could use a stiff drink, and she cast a hungry look at the tray of antipasti on the wrought iron table—or what was left of it, now that the five of them had ravaged the array of cheeses and cured meats. “Another meeting of the Martini Club?”

“Of which you are now an honorary member,” said Lloyd. He emptied the contents of the cocktail shaker into a perfectly chilled martini glass and handed her the drink.

She grimaced. “I’m on duty. And I don’t much care for these.”

“Maybe because you’ve never had a decent one. Everyone has their preferred concoction, and that’s mine. Boodles gin, just a whisper of vermouth. A lemon twist, freshly peeled.”

She held it at arm’s length, as if it contained strychnine, and gingerly set it down, untasted. This evening Jo seemed subdued, even deferential, and she looked at the group as if she was seeing them—reallyseeingthem—for the first time. She turned to Maggie. “You already guessed it, didn’t you?”

“About the blood in Luther’s truck?” Maggie nodded. “I had a hunch. And after I spoke to Callie this afternoon, I knew I was on the right track.”

“So the PMB test came back?” said Ingrid.

Jo turned to her. “What doyouknow about the test?”

“It detects D-dimer proteins. Distinguishes between menstrual and peripheral blood. I assume the lab confirmed the blood was menstrual? It probably seeped through Zoe’s underwear, and Luther’s truck is so filthy, he didn’t even notice the stain on the seat.”

Maggie said, “And she was having cramps.”

“How do you know that?” said Jo.

“Callie told me. I asked her.”

Jo looked skyward and groaned. “You people justlovebeing smarter than me, don’t you?”

“But you do always manage to catch up, Chief Thibodeau,” said Lloyd. He raised his drink to her. “We knew you’d do it this time, as well. So let’s drink a toast to you!”

“Is there anything you peoplewon’ttoast?”

“Life is short. We celebrate while we can.”

Jo looked at the martini that she’d just set down on the table. She picked it up, took a sip, and winced. Put it right back down again. “I should have realized,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s so obvious now, why she did it.”

“Did what?” asked Maggie.

“Put her dress in the washing machine.” Jo had missed an important clue, and she was now kicking herself for it. “At the time, I didn’t realize the significance of that detail. Then this morning, when you mentioned feminine hygiene products, it suddenly hit mewhyshe washed the dress.Whythere was blood on the truck seat. She got back to Moonview, discovered that her dress and underwear were stained, and she put them straight into the machine. But getting her period didn’t stop her from diving back in the pond.”

“Youdidreach the right conclusion,” said Maggie.

“But first I let myself get talked into jumping the gun and arresting Luther. Alfondinsistedthe blood was enough.”

“I’m not faulting you, Jo. Yes, it seemed perfectly logical at the time, with Zoe’s blood in the truck. Just learn from it and move on. And have something to eat.” She pushed the antipasti tray toward Jo.

Unable to resist the temptation, Jo snatched up a slice of mortadella and devoured it in a few quick bites. No delicate nibbling for her; the girl really must have been starved.

“Now that your case against Luther Yount looks shaky, perhaps it’s time to consider an alternate suspect: Reuben Tarkin.”

“Susan Conover’s already asked me about him,” Jo mumbled around a mouthful of salami. “The man’s had a long-standing grudge against the Conover family.”

“Do you know the nature of that grudge?” asked Ingrid.

“No idea.” Jo bit into a slice of Parmesan. “Wow, this is really good.”

“I’ll make you a doggie bag later,” said Lloyd, who loved nothing more than feeding people. “I brought way too much food tonight.”

“You always do, dear,” said Ingrid, and she smiled at the others. “Lloyd’s biggest fear is that people will go hungry.”

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