Page 41 of Death at the Deep Dive

“How was your day?” Ellery asked, popping the potatoes in the oven.

“A day I don’t hear from anyone on the town council is a good day,” Jack replied.

Ellery smiled to himself as he sautéed the steaks and fried the bacon for the twice-baked potatoes. Jack was extremely good at dealing with the different (difficult) personalities of the town council, but it was probably his least favorite part of his job. He listened absently as Jack talked out the minor irritations and frustrations of his day.

After five minutes, he flipped the steaks, reduced the heat to medium, and set about melting butter in a small pan for the red-wine mushroom sauce.

“Did you want another glass of wine?”

“Thanks.” Ellery checked the steaks, added mushrooms and shallots to the saucepan, checked the potatoes.

Jack refilled Ellery’s glass. “How did your sleuthing go?”

Ellery filled him in on the visit to Sunset Shores, and Jack listened, but seemed to have little to say other than a quiet, “Uh-oh,” when Ellery explained about his encounter with Mrs. Crane.

“I know. Maybe she’s not supposed to have visitors, but the staff didn’t seem to think twice about letting me in.”

“Do me a favor and don’t—”

“No, no,” Ellery promised. “I know how awkward it would be to have to arrest me.”

“You have no idea.”

Ellery sipped his wine and considered. “Joey said something I found interesting, though. I asked her what she remembered about the day Vernon disappeared.”

“What did she say?”

“She said she didn’t remember what day it was. That no one knew for sure what day it was.”

Jack started to answer, but Ellery said quickly, “That seems unlikely. That she wouldn’t remember. But that’s not the interesting part.”

“Okay. What’s the interesting part?”

“I told her Vera believed Vernon went missing on Thursday, and Joey said,I didn’t work that night.”

Jack was silent. Then he said slowly, “You didn’t mention the Deep Dive?”

“No. In fact, I don’t think I even specifiednight.”

“Ah.” Jack nodded. “Okay. Yes. You’re right. That’s interesting. Why did she assume Vernon going missing had anything to do with the Deep Dive?”

“Right? That’s what I thought.”

The timer dinged, Ellery put his glass down and returned to the fray.

They continued to chat as the steaks rested, the bacon drained, and Ellery made the buttermilk Dijon dressing for the chopped salad, but their conversation revolved around non-lethal topics like wainscotting, ceiling medallions, the best flowers for autumn planting, and whether Nan Sweeny could beat George Lansing if she did decide to run for mayor in the spring.

Ellery mentioned his plan to invite some of his old friends for a house party in November, and Jack raised his brows, but said only, “That should be fun,” in a noncommittal tone that probably meant he’d figure out a way to be attending a conference on the mainland that weekend.

When the meal was at last prepared, Ellery said, “I think it’s finally too cold to eat on the terrace. You want to eat in here?”

Surprisingly, Jack said, “We could try out those new chandeliers and eat in the dining room.”

Ellery smiled. “Well, in that case, we’ll use the good china.”

“You keep raising the bar,” Jack murmured when they had finished their meals and Ellery served Jack’s favorite mocha-pecan ice-cream bonbons.

Ellery was amused. He put the comment down to the fact that Jack was on his third Scotch. Ellery too was drinking more than usual. Not that either of them was drunk, but they were definitely relaxed. Ellery couldn’t help wondering if that was by design. There was something going on with Jack, some undercurrent he didn’t quite understand.

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