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Authors: Valerie Wolzien

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“Poor Signe.”

“She’ll be okay now,” Erika said. “Brett told her that her father was no longer a suspect, and when we left, she was packing her things. One of Brett’s officers will drop her off at her home after the rest of Doug’s guests leave. She didn’t want to run into a lot of people and feel obliged to explain where she’s been—and why.”

“But where’s Peter Konowitz?” Susan asked.

“We’re not sure. I’ve been calling around, and apparently Peter has disappeared. He must have known we were getting close.”

“Then he won’t be arrested?” Susan asked.

“Oh, he will be,” Brett assured her, a grim expression on his face. “Everyone involved is making the assumption that he’s left the state already. The FBI’s been called in. They’ll find him. Don’t worry. Peter Konowitz is going to pay for killing Ashley Marks.”

“But will he pay for doing so much damage to their lives over the years?” Susan wondered.

Kathleen appeared in the doorway of the room. “Wait a second,” she insisted. “Before you get philosophical, I need to know the details. Who? What? When? And all that.”

“I’m completely in the dark, too, hon,” Jed spoke up.

“I’m not sure I know where to start,” Susan said.

“Susan, less than fifteen minutes ago you were saying you didn’t have the information you needed to solve this case. What changed?” Kathleen asked, sitting down on the couch and petting Clue.

“I realized what not having the information meant,” Susan said.

“That’s not an explanation,” Jed protested.

“It is! You see, I thought I didn’t know anything because I was used to Brett being in charge of a case. I thought that was what was wrong. But it wasn’t what Brett wasn’t doing. It was what Peter Konowitz wasn’t doing.”

“He didn’t pass on information like Brett would have done,” Kathleen guessed.

“I doubt if he even bothered to get the information.” Susan looked up at Brett.

“You’re right.” Brett answered her unspoken question. “There’s no record of him turning in an empty wine bottle to determine if there was poison in it. Either he knew that there was—and I suspect that’s the truth—or he knew there wasn’t because he had used some other method to poison Ashley. Either way, he didn’t want anyone else knowing.”

“What about the first time?” Susan asked. “One of the newspaper articles Jinx found reported that Peter Konowitz was sending samples of various foods and what the reporter referred to as bodily fluids out to the labs. Did he do it then?”

“We’re going to have to find that out. There were records kept. We’ll know all of this eventually. But I suspect he didn’t.”

“This is somewhat confusing,” Jed said.

“But that was the point!” Susan cried. “The confusion was intentional. And it was created by Peter Konowitz. Once I realized that, I began to understand what was going on.”

“What do you mean?” Kathleen asked.

“Right from the first, Chief Konowitz had everyone running in circles. Well, not right from the first. He actually asked Jed and me a few intelligent questions when Brett reported the body to him. But that was only because Brett was present and would pick up on any unprofessional behavior on the part of a colleague.” She glanced over at Brett. “Right?”

“Probably.”

“But that was the only time,” Susan continued. “There were no follow-up questions. No interview later to get all the little details he might have missed the first time. Nothing. After that initial meeting, all Chief . . . Would anyone mind if I called him Peter? It would be easier.”

“It would be more appropriate, too,” Brett said. “Peter Konowitz should never have been made police chief. He shouldn’t have been a cop at all. I should have . . . could have . . . stopped his career years ago. But . . .”

Erika was up and by her husband’s side immediately. “It isn’t . . . It wasn’t your fault,” she insisted, taking his hand in hers. “There was no way you could have known this was going to happen.”

“No, you’re right about that. And I had no idea he’d screwed up his first big investigation back when I hired him to work here in Hancock. But I knew he didn’t get along well with the people he worked with. And I gave him the benefit of the doubt and didn’t even put that in his permanent record. You can’t get around the fact that I made some bad judgment calls when it came to Peter Konowitz. To tell the truth, I was so glad he was leaving the force that I didn’t care about too much else.”

“You know, I think he used the fact that he irritated people,” Susan spoke up. “He kept popping up here and there and making life difficult for me. Instead of going to him for help, I began to avoid him. And, of course, that was just what he wanted. He didn’t want me around. He didn’t want me looking too carefully at Ashley’s murder, so he was happy that I was running around looking for Signe in the wrong place, being offered opinion as fact by Alvena Twigg. I was busy, busy, busy, and I didn’t accomplish a damn thing.”

“So Peter Konowitz killed Ashley,” Jed said. “Why?”

“Because she knew he screwed up his very first big investigation as rookie police officer back in Oxford Landing.”

“The first poisoning case?” Jed asked for clarification.

Susan nodded vigorously. “Exactly.”

“Who . . . ?”

Susan didn’t have to wait for him to ask the question to answer. “Ashley. Ashley poisoned Doug both times.”

“For God’s sake! Why? And why was she so incompetent that he lived—twice?”

“Because she didn’t want him to die. She wanted him to move to a place where she could live the type of life she wanted to live.”

“You’re saying Ashley used poison as some sort of lifestyle change incentive?”

“Sure. The first time she didn’t want to live on the farm with Doug’s mother. So she placed insecticide in the food she and Doug ate. My guess is that she thought Doug would think it was all a tragic accident and take the family away from the farm. But I think Doug may have known what she was doing.”

“But didn’t he just encourage her by moving? I mean, she did get what she wanted, right?” Erika asked.

“Yes, but he also protected everyone. Ashley may have gotten the result she wanted, but he also protected Signe from prosecution. There’s no doubt that he loves his daughter. I’m sure that was important to him, too.”

“So you don’t think Ashley loved Hancock, either,” Kathleen said.

“Even I know Hancock isn’t Paris,” Susan explained. “But Ashley saw a way out at the same time Doug was falling in love with the house where he would have his shooting range. She saw the articles about me. I doubt if Ashley thought I was Hancock’s Nancy Drew. She probably thought I was a meddling busybody who would investigate in an incompetent manner—which would mean she wouldn’t be caught. She waited until she’d lived here long enough to make it look as though the two families were friendly, and then she began the poisoning again. And that upset Peter Konowitz.”

“Why?”

Susan looked at Brett. “Because he screwed up the first investigation, right?”

“Right. Peter probably thought he’d gotten off scot-free when Ashley was arrested and the first poisoning wasn’t reported. But then she was freed, and Brett started to investigate again. This time there was no way the first poisoning was going to remain in the past. It wouldn’t have taken my guys long to realize that Peter screwed up the first time, and that would have ruined his fading career.”

“So moving to Oxford Landing—even as chief of police—wasn’t much of a promotion,” Erika suggested.

“Damn right.” Brett looked angry, and Susan finished off the sad tale.

“So Ashley was freed and decided going to our party was just the thing to perk her up after the weeks in jail and the trial. And Peter knew you wouldn’t just let the question of who poisoned Doug die. Unfortunately, Ashley had suggested the Landing Inn, and I had thought it was a great suggestion. But Oxford Landing is a small community. Peter probably heard about my party. And he could assume I’d invite my next-door neighbors. Ashley was in place when Peter offered her a glass of wine and killed her.

“And then he put her in our bedroom. He knew about my reputation, and he knew I wouldn’t be able to resist investigating. And he couldn’t resist sending me off on the wrong track again and again.”

“He might have gotten away with it,” Jed said slowly. “Everyone was so sure that Doug was the killer. Of course, Peter Konowitz didn’t know that you’re not exactly a linear thinker. You did what you always do. You looked in all directions until you found what you were looking for—the man who poisoned Ashley Marks.”

THIRTY-TWO

A WEEK LATER, KATHLEEN AND SUSAN WERE ROCKING together on an old-fashioned outdoor swing placed in the shade in the Henshaws’ backyard.

“Kathleen, this is the best anniversary present we were given,” Susan said.

“I’m glad you like it. It was really Jerry’s idea. I shopped and shopped and couldn’t find anything I thought you and Jed would both like. Then Jerry came home from the garden center with one of these things for us, and I sent him back to get this one for you and Jed.”

“It’s sensational. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” Kathleen looked closely at her friend. “You seem a bit tired.”

“I am. Chrissy and Stephen and their dogs left early this morning.”

“And you miss them already.”

“Not yet. But we were all up late last night talking and making plans for the upcoming blessed event.”

“You must have been terribly disappointed when Chrissy told you that it was one of the dogs who is expecting, not her.”

“I was, but she and Stephen are young. There’s lots of time for them to have children. And last night Stephen said that he’s being wooed by three different brokerage houses, and two of them are located in New York City!”

“Susan, that’s sensational!”

“You know, Kathleen, you’ve been asking all the questions. Now I have one for you.”

“What?”

“Are you pregnant?”

“Heavens, no! You know I’d tell you if that were true.”

“Then why are you still working on that baby afghan?” Susan asked, pointing at the knitting bag slung on the ground by Kathleen’s feet.

Kathleen grinned. “Oh, Susan! I’m really enjoying this. Do you have any idea how rare it is that I know something about one of our friends before you do?”

“Someone we know is pregnant?”

Kathleen’s grin grew wider. “Yes. Erika.”

“Erika and Brett are going to have a baby? Are you sure? How do you know? When? That’s the most fantastic news!”

“It is,” Kathleen agreed. “I ran into them at the Hancock Inn last night. When Brett left here last week, I thought he’d never cheer up. He was really blaming himself for a lot of bad things happening to a lot of people. But last night he was drinking champagne and laughing. I stopped by their table to say hello, and they told me the big news.”

“Wow. A new baby. What great news!” Susan thought for a minute. “You know what else?”

“What?”

“We should give Erika a baby shower! We can have it here—or at the Hancock Inn!”

“That’s a great idea! Do you think we should have a meal?”

“How about just a late-afternoon tea?” Susan suggested. “We could do it sometime in late January or February, and we can decorate with spring flowers. We’ll all be dying for a reminder that warm weather is coming by then.”

“How about a guest list.”

“And a theme.”

Ten minutes later Jed and his son were standing by the back door, watching the two women.

“I can’t believe this,” Chad said. “After what happened two weeks ago, they’re busy planning another party! I would have thought they’d be afraid of bad luck following them from party to party.”

Jed smiled at his son. “I can’t say that I understand women, but I do know one thing.”

“What?”

“Your mother always looks at the future with optimism, no matter what has happened. And you know what else? That’s just one of the many reasons I’m very glad I married her thirty years ago.”

Chad rolled his eyes and headed inside to check out the refrigerator.

Susan, having overheard, looked up at her husband and smiled before getting down to work on yet another guest list.

A Fawcett Book
Published by The Ballantine Publishing Group

Copyright © 2002 by Valerie Wolzien

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by The Ballantine Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.

Fawcett is a registered trademark and the Fawcett colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

www.ballantinebooks.com

eISBN : 978-0-307-41457-1

www.randomhouse.com

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