THIRTY-SEVEN

Most of the gang already gathered under the white tent in the marina parking lot. But something was wrong; the voices were too loud, too forced. Payton nearly turned in her tracks and ran back up the hill. Conflict she didn’t need today, especially when it was delivered by none other than Felicia Featherstone. She stood out from them a bit. Wearing a red top and creased white capris, she pointed a red-lacquered fingernail at the group. “Don’t tell me you’re not all wondering what she’s doing here in Sackets Harbor—”

“Felicia, we expect this sort of behavior from Sylvie,” Helen interrupted, “certainly not from you.”

Felicia was undaunted. “She doesn’t fit in with this small-town atmosphere—”

“Any more than you.”

Felicia sputtered a little but kept on. “Didn’t you see the way they acted around each other? You can bet there was something going on.” Still, no one did more than stand open-mouthed. “Don’t any of you think it’s at all strange that she no sooner moves to town and Sean dies?”

“Sean was a worm,” Amanda said. “He was bound to be killed sooner or later.”

They all spotted Payton about the same time. Most had the grace to blush or look away. She didn’t wait for their embarrassed explanations. She couldn’t grin and bear it as Granny used to recommend when her brothers taunted her. She turned and ran up the hill, past her store. This little piggy went to market. This little piggy ran all the way home.

Payton startled Mamie and a customer as she burst in the front door. “I’m not here,” was all she said. She raced upstairs and shut herself in the bedroom. She didn’t fling herself on the bed as she used to back in childhood Virginia. She opened the sliders and went out on the deck, shutting the door to close out sounds of life from below. Face still hot with betrayal, she leaned her elbows on the railing and lowered her head. The cool breeze did nothing to alleviate the pain. She’d thought Felicia had accepted her as one of them. They hadn’t become friends as such. There was that wall they’d each built around themselves.

Mamie wasn’t a big enough bouncer to keep the determined Helen away. She came out on the deck as if she owned it, sidled next to Payton and put arm around her waist.

“How can she think I killed Sean?”

“She doesn’t…not really,” Helen replied. “The police were at her house for a long time yesterday. Brighton walked in while they were discussing Sunset and there was a huge row. She’s feeling a mite overwrought. You should have stayed around to see how Edward blasted her. Brought waves of delight to these old bones, I can tell you that.”

Payton spun around, realized her knees were wobbly and leaned against the rail. Helen’s face looked flushed. “Felicia was in tears when I left.”

Payton went back to looking at the harbor, now alight with afternoon sunshine. Where had the storm clouds gone? Then she laughed. “I was wondering where the storm clouds went. Then I realized I swallowed them.”

Helen laughed too, and all at once they were giggling, unable to catch their breaths. Tears rolled down Payton’s cheeks, her breath came in staccato bursts. “How come no one’s racing?” she finally managed to ask.

Helen managed a semblance of seriousness. “I don’t know.”

There wasn’t much else to say. They leaned elbows on the railing, watching for activity in the harbor. It wasn’t hard to convince Helen to go home; the woman was itchy for more gossip.

Payton tiptoed down to her office. Mamie tapped timidly on the door to say that Amanda had arrived. One by one, the rest of the Sackets Harbor Yacht Club members came—all but Felicia—voicing regret for what happened. Payton half-heartedly accepted all apologies.

Once the gallery closed, Payton sat in her love seat with a glass of chardonnay and suddenly couldn’t stop thinking about Sean’s social security number. What difference did it make where he was born?

She dialed Helen’s number.

“Can I bring you something to eat, dear?”

“No thanks, Helen. I’ve eaten,” Payton lied. “What do you remember about Sean’s birth?”

“Not much, really. In those days, Carter and I were struggling financially. He worked for a Watertown construction company, and I worked for an attorney in Watertown. Most nights I brought work home and there wasn’t time for socializing. The point is, it seemed as though all of a sudden Edna had herself a baby. Payton, I honestly don’t remember the woman being pregnant.”

“Uh-huh,” was all Payton could think to say. Her mind was going a million miles an hour.

“Is this important?”

“I don’t know. It might be. Thanks.” Payton hung up.

She was finishing bookwork when the doorbell rang. She dragged herself to the hallway, hoping it wasn’t Felicia. A confrontation with her just wouldn’t work right now. But Sylvie stood on the stoop, cuddling a longhaired white kitten. As soon as Payton’s eyes spotted the little feline, Sylvie stuffed it into her arms. “I thought you might need a friend.”

Payton stifled a groan of dismay. What was she going to do with a kitten? Its untroubled blue eyes gazed out beneath long silky whiskers. The kitten’s tiny body trembled with its purrs and Payton couldn’t help clutching it to her chest. “What’s his name?”

“She doesn’t have one yet.” Payton stepped back to invite Sylvie in but she waggled a finger. “I’ll be right back, I have to get something in the car.”

“I hope it’s not another cat.” Payton laughed, meaning it.

Sylvie returned, dropping a box on the hall floor. “It’s a litter box and food.”

“Gee, Sylvie, I really can’t keep a kitten.”

“Why not?”

How could she say, I just don’t want the responsibility, and make it sound like she wasn’t completely heartless? “Would you like a glass of sherry?”

“Love one.”

They went to the kitchen. She handed the kitten to Sylvie and got glasses from the cabinet. Settled in chairs on the patio, the two women and the kitten sat in companionable silence watching the lights twinkling on the bay.

“Sylvie, do you remember when Sean was born?”

“Not really, why?”

“Helen said she never knew Edna was pregnant. I would think someone—especially someone like Edna, who’d tried so hard to have a baby—would be so excited they couldn’t keep it quiet.”

“You would think so.” Sylvie sipped the sherry.

“I keep having this unsettled feeling, like there’s something I’ve missed.”

“Can I help?” When Payton didn’t respond, she added, “You did ask for my help.”

“Two things keep sticking in my head, Sean’s birth and the three paintings.”

“Three paintings?”

“Felicia’s Sunset. Amanda’s Commodore. And yesterday I found an identical Commodore in Sean’s house.”

Sylvie put a finger to her pursed lips. “What’s wrong with that?”

“That’s the problem. I haven’t the slightest idea.”

Sylvie’s sharp laugh startled the kitten who stood up in Payton’s lap. After a minute, it kneaded her thigh a few times, then lay back down.

“Here’s the question,” Payton said. “Why are there are two Commodores?”

Sylvie’s lips puckered a little more. “He was a historical figure in town. Why couldn’t there be two?”

“I looked at them closely. They’re just about identical.”

“You’re saying it’s not likely an artist would paint the exact same painting twice.”

Payton gave a slow noncommittal nod.

“Want me to do some research?”

“Sure. That would be helpful.”

After Sylvie left, Payton prepared the kitten’s litter box and put it in the laundry room off the kitchen. She set bowls of food and water on the kitchen floor, put the kitten down so it could explore and went to her office. Had inviting Sylvie’s help been the right thing to do? Time would tell.

Payton dialed Aden’s cell phone and received the same “the number is out of service” message. She dialed another number. This was answered on the second ring. She said, “Hi, it’s Payton.” The kitten padded into the room. “I was wondering if you’d like to take me out to dinner tomorrow night… Good, I’ll see you then. Good night.”