Page 59 of The Summer Guests

Jo looked at the kitchen cabinet again and imagined Sam Tarkin’s hands sanding and varnishing that maple.He stood in this kitchen. He ate the lunches my grandmother prepared for him.

“Tell me about his kids,” she said.

“What about them?”

“I was at their house today.”

“Why?”

“To ask Reuben about Zoe Conover.”

Owen frowned at her. “Reuben’s not a suspect, is he?”

“Not now. He has a solid alibi for the day she disappeared, spent it at the hospital with his sister. But he does have a grudge against the Conovers. Do you know why?”

Owen shrugged. “They’ve got money, plus that big summerhouse. People like that, they tend to throw their weight around. That’s going to rile up people like Reuben and Abigail, who have almost nothing.”

She thought of Abigail’s medical bills and the burden of property taxes for a waterfront home, even one as derelict as theirs. “How do they manage? It doesn’t seem like Reuben has any steady job. And Abigail’s never worked, so she wouldn’t have any pension.”

“I have no idea. Maybe there was insurance.”

“There’s something else that bothers me about those two,” she said. “I felt like they weren’t completely honest. That they were holding back. Hiding something.”

“Oh, Jo. It must be hard for you, going through life like that. Thinking that everyone’s hiding something, everyone’s a suspect.”

“Yeah, well, I could use a suspect right now. I’ve run out of them.”

“I heard you arrested Luther Yount.”

“I had to release him. Not enough evidence.”

“Well, I never thought he was guilty. So where are you with the case?”

She sagged back against the chair and sighed. “Absolutely nowhere.”

Chapter 29

Maggie

“You saved my bacon, Maggie. I don’t know how to thank you,” said Luther.

They sat at his kitchen table, sipping his bitterly strong coffee, which Maggie had made palatable with sugar and a generous pour of cream from Callie’s Jersey cow. The scent of freshly mowed hay drifted in with the evening breeze, and through the window, Maggie saw Callie leading her herd of goats across the field, back to the barn for the night.

“I’m glad she’s got you back home again,” Maggie said.

“But it shook her up pretty bad, seeing me hauled away in handcuffs. Not knowing what the hell was happening. It’s a good thing she’s got her animals to look after. It keeps her busy.”

“And what about you? How areyoudoing?”

He shook his head. “It’s like I have this big warning sign pasted on my forehead: ‘Beware. Kidnapper.’ I see the way folks look at me. How they edge away, or cross the street to avoid me. They think I must have donesomethingwrong, or why else would the police arrest me? Every time I look out that window, I half expect to see a police car coming up my driveway again. I’m just gladyounever doubted me.”

She took a sip of coffee, preparing herself to bring up a delicate subject. “And now I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

She set down the mug and looked at him. “Tell me the truth.”

“I’ve never lied to you.”

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