Page 93 of The Summer Guests

“Are they with law enforcement?”

Jo sighed. “No.”

“So they’reamateurs?” He threw back his head. “Jesus, I’m in a goddamn episode ofMurder, She Wrote!”

The interview room door swung open. They both turned as Elizabeth Conover stepped into the hallway.

“I would like to go home,” she said. “Ifyou’re quite finished with me.”

“Of course, Mrs. Conover,” said Alfond, his demeanor instantly transforming to that of the polite public servant. “And I want to apologize for this misunderstanding.”

“Is that what harassment is called these days?”

“We were operating on incomplete information. New details have just come in from the crime lab, and it’s clear this young woman’s deathhappened in a completely different time frame than we thought. Come, let me walk you out. Maybe I can get you a cup of coffee?”

It irritated Jo to see how deferentially he escorted the woman through the connecting door, into the front office. Elizabeth was hiding something—Jo felt certain of it—but the woman hadfriends in high places, as Alfond had said. Of course she did. People like the Conovers and Arthur Fox were bound to have friends and lawyers to bail them out of trouble. She followed the pair into the front office, where Ethan had been waiting for his mother.

“We’re done here,” Elizabeth said to her son. “Let’s go home.”

“What was this all about?” he asked.

“The skeleton in the pond.” Elizabeth shook her head and laughed. “They thought I might know something about it.”

“Why you?”

Alfond said, “We were operating on incomplete forensic information. The latest crime lab report says the woman’s death was more recent than we thought. Now it’s just a matter of putting a name to her face. Hoping someone recognizes her.”

“Recognizes her?” Elizabeth looked at Alfond. “You know what she looked like?”

“Roughly. Based on a facial reconstruction from her skull.”

“May I see it?”

Alfond pulled out his phone and scrolled through his emails to the crime lab report. “These facial reconstruction programs have really improved over the last few years. We’ll be sharing the image with the public, and hopefully someone will know who she was.” He handed his phone to Elizabeth.

She went stock still. Didn’t say a word, didn’t react in any way. Not a frown, not a gasp, but those few seconds of frozen silence caught Jo’s attention. Elizabeth handed the phone back to Alfond. “That could be anyone,” she said, then turned to Ethan. “Let’s go home.”

Jo watched mother and son walk out of the building. “Did you see how she reacted to the face?” she said to Alfond. “She knows something.”

“I didn’t see any reaction.”

“Because she was trained that way. To show nothing, reveal nothing.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, leave those people alone.” Alfond turned to the door. “And maybe return to what you do best. Go write a few tickets.”

Jo watched him walk out of the building and wondered if she’d ever live down this evening’s humiliation. She couldn’t blame this all on the Martini Club becauseshe’dbeen the one to buy into their theories.She’dbeen the one to bring in Arthur Fox and Elizabeth Conover for questioning. As it turned out, the Martini Club had been correct about one thing: Elizabethhadworked for the Agency, but it was an irrelevant detail that had nothing to do with the bones in the lake.

Or was it irrelevant?

She pulled up the crime lab report on her computer, and the image of Jane Doe’s facial reconstruction appeared on her screen. The face was bland and expressionless, as were most computer-generated reconstructions, yet something about the woman’s features was distinct enough to make Elizabeth momentarily freeze at the sight of the image.

She recognized this woman,thought Jo.Elizabeth knows who she is.

But does she know who killed her?

Chapter 42

Maggie

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