TWENTY-TWO

Even though sun poured into Mamie’s gallery, the air was somber and sad. Their voices echoed in the near-empty room. Claire wrung her hands. “It’s all my fault.” Payton handed her a tissue, which she dabbed against her nose.

Mamie said, “It was just a sailing accident, Claire. It’s a terrible thing, but it happens.”

Mamie taped a large poster on the door proclaiming the opening of the new gallery at:

213 West Broad Street

11-5 Tues.-Thurs.

11-6 Fri. & Sat.

“It happens,” Mamie repeated.

“No,” Claire said softly.

“Yes.”

Payton had tried to talk to Aden last night, but he refused to allow the topic of Sean’s death in their conversation. After dinner and a nearly wordless drive up the coast, they’d returned to his house where he undressed her, ushered her to his bed and held her in a brotherly embrace all night. Payton couldn’t sleep. The warmth of Aden’s body, spooning her from behind, brought unwelcome thoughts into her head. She hadn’t slept with anyone since Cameron, hadn’t even considered it. Around 3 a.m., she’d nearly given in to the unbidden thoughts. There was a half hour stretch where she would have liked nothing more than a straightforward roll in the hay.

Here, Claire paced the squeaky floor. Payton stepped in her path and pulled her into an embrace. She wasn’t a hugging type of person, but if she’d had a friend two years ago, maybe the nightmares wouldn’t have been so bad. Maybe she could make it easier on Claire.

After a minute, Claire pulled away. “I’m all right now. It’s been such a shock.”

Outside Felicia was crossing toward them. She carried a plastic bag with the bookstore’s logo. Mamie waved her inside. “Morning, ladies.” Felicia peered around the big room. “Will you be keeping both places, Mamie? Now that the other is available again—”

“I’m not sure what’s going to happen yet. Miles and I have been very busy.”

Felicia frowned. “The man has galleries in big cities all over the world. I can’t help wonder why would he want one in this godforsaken town.”

Claire hissed in exasperation. “Felicia, not everyone thinks that way about Sackets Harbor.”

“Not to be rude, but if you hate it here so much, why do you stay?” Payton asked, though Felicia’s question bore consideration.

“Sometimes I wonder myself.” Felicia gave a heavy sigh.

“You mean because of Sean?” Mamie asked.

“Indirectly.”

“Did you see anything of what happened?” Payton asked.

“God, the cops have been all over me asking the same thing. I was timing the race. My eye was on Aden and Brighton in the lead.” Felicia shifted her bag from one hand to the other. “If a freak wave didn’t wash them overboard, what the hell happened?”

“I guess we’ll have to let the authorities figure it out,” Payton said.

Mamie moaned. “They’re going to be crawling all over the place, poking their heads into everyone’s affairs until they do.”

“Is this a problem for you?”

All four women jumped at Sergeant Espinoza’s voice.

“Your sneaking up on people is a problem, sir.” Felicia’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to ask Ms. Coutermarsh a few questions.”

Mamie leaned the broom against the wall. “Me?” she squeaked. Her cheeks paled, then reddened.

“Nothing to be alarmed about.”

Payton wasn’t falling for his manner, but Mamie did. She visibly relaxed and looked around the shop. “Will it take long? My gallery is opening later this morning, and I still have so much to do.”

“This will only take a minute.” Sergeant Espinoza’s eyes flickered over each woman but he lingered longer on Claire, who wiped her eyes with a tissue. No disguising that she’d been crying, and he wasn’t trying to hide his curiosity over it.

Felicia, Claire and Payton filed outside, like children being sent to the principal’s office. The sergeant had taken out his notebook. Mamie slid onto her stool, fidgeting her fingers in her lap. Payton gave her a thumbs-up, said bye to Claire and ran to her shop, not realizing till she entered the building that Felicia had followed.

Felicia cupped her hands around her face and peered across the street. “I wonder what he’s asking her.”

The question didn’t seem to require a reply. Payton went to sit on the new couch, replaced this morning by the furniture store. When a customer purchased the ugly set, she’d barely been able to contain her delight. This set was very pretty, white brocade with pastel pink hibiscus flowers among grassy green leaves. It had two matching chairs and a lovely carved-leg coffee table.

“They’ve questioned me twice,” Felicia called over her shoulder.

“Last night was the third time for me. The sergeant wanted to know how Sean and I got along.”

“What did you tell him?”

“The truth.”

“Did he believe you?”

“I hope so.”

“Did he ask about that painting Sean wanted you to buy?”

“I volunteered about our disagreement over price. Someone’s bound to tell him anyway.”

“I’m glad you didn’t fall for Sean’s rhetoric about the painting.” Felicia crossed the room. She remained on her feet. “How could I let him talk me into paying so much for Sunset? When Brighton goes to pay Aden for his half of that new boat, he’ll see I drained our account. And he’ll kill me.”

“Can I ask you a question? Tell me to mind my own business if you want, but there’s a rumor circulating town.”

“About me and Sean, right?” Felicia gave a wan smile. “When Sylvie saw us in Chaumont, I knew it was only a matter of time until talk got around. There’s no relationship. I can’t—couldn’t—stand the man. We met by accident, believe me.”

“Sylvie said you looked very serious.”

“He wanted me to buy another painting. I said no way.” She glanced toward the street. “I’ve got to be going.”

Payton remained on the couch for a long time after the door closed. Much of Felicia’s recent unease had been explained. Payton sat up straighter. Felicia said Brighton would kill her when he found out. What if he already knew and had killed Sean rather than her? Or, what if Brighton heard the rumors about her and Sean and killed him because of that?

Maybe, fearing Brighton’s reaction, Felicia killed Sean. Possible, but why wait till now? The purchase was made weeks ago.

Once thing Payton learned from this conversation—Felicia wasn’t all snob and arrogance as everyone said. She had a vulnerable side. Could vulnerability translate into murder?