Kay looked up from her notebook as I finished. “How’s this for a summary? Diane’s terrified that Jimmy pushed Jack. Jimmy admitted he intended to confront Jack, but claimed he found the balcony empty. Shannon heard Gwen Dunham say she wished Jack was dead. Margo refused to answer any questions and you believe she pushed Ryan’s picture beneath Jack’s door.” Kay’s expression softened. “And there’s Gwen Dunham. Poor woman.”
Kay’s gaze swung toward the windows to look at the hedge between The Castle and the Dunham house. “I have two sons.” The sentence was filled with understanding and compassion. “I wouldn’t trade my years watching Kyle and Connor grow up for anything in the world.” She tapped her pen on the notebook. “Gwen Dunham had the most to lose.”
“The dog barked.”
Kay looked bewildered.
I was following my own line of thought. “Gwen Dunham was not the only person who was threatened by revelations about Ryan. Friday night, Shannon followed Jack to the gazebo, where he met Gwen. Shannon tried to get near enough to hear, but Diane’s cocker started barking. Gwen said she slipped from the house, leaving her husband asleep. Was he asleep? Did he follow her? Did the cocker bark at him or at Shannon? How upset would Clint Dunham be if he thought the son he loved would learn Clint wasn’t his father? Clint had a motive for murder. Or was someone else out there? Ronald Phillips has a talent for slipping around unseen. He may be planning to blackmail Gwen.”
“There are too many possibilities.” Kay sounded discouraged. “How can we figure out who is guilty?”
“Which one was capable of murder? Was Paul helpful?”
Kay looked at me unhappily. “I feel like I took advantage of him. These people are his friends. He thinks I wanted his perspective so that I could more effectively interview them.”
“Jack was Paul’s quarterback.”
Some of the tension eased from her face. “Thank you.” Her glance said more than her words. Paul’s admiration and respect mattered hugely to her. Someday, if Kay revealed the truth about Jack’s death, Paul would understand.
“I believe Paul’s view of them is as honest a picture as we will find. So”—she was brisk—“Gwen seems an unlikely suspect. He describes her as gentle, self-effacing, unwilling to cause controversy. She loves Adelaide. Clint had a chance some years ago to go with Travelers Insurance in Dallas. Gwen didn’t want to leave Adelaide.”
I looked back over years, considering how Gwen had dealt with a once-in-a-lifetime chance for love. “Jack wanted her to come to Africa. She wouldn’t—or couldn’t—break out of the mold of her life. Keeping the status quo mattered more to her than passion. If she clung to a kind of life that had barely begun, what would she do if something occurred which threatened to destroy her long-established, secure world?”
“Gwen hated him that night in the gazebo.” Kay’s eyes narrowed. “Shannon heard her: ‘I wish you were dead.’”
I cautioned, “We have no proof of what Gwen said. Shannon may have lied.”
“Why?” Kay sipped the soft drink.
“You are forgetting one small matter.”
Kay raised a questioning eyebrow.
“The vase.”
“Oh. Of course. The murderer is quite sure questions from you or me have nothing to do with a book and will take every opportunity to direct suspicion elsewhere. That means the response of one of them has to be filtered through the possibility of guilt. Clever of you.” She gave me an admiring glance. “You aren’t as ditzy as you look.”
Every time Kay and I seemed to be forging a bond, she said something tactless. I suppose pique was evident in my expression. I stiffened. Had I heard a faint chuckle? I looked around the room. If Wiggins was here, he remained, of course, unseen.
He whirled into being behind Kay, visible only to me, chestnut hair burnished in a stream of sunlight from the window, broad genial face equable, mustache quivering in amusement. He gave me a thumbs-up, pointed into the distance, and disappeared.
I was swept by elation. Despite my continued appearances, Wiggins had clearly awarded me the Department of Good Intentions Seal of Approval. If Wiggins didn’t have a seal, I’d be happy to help design one. Perhaps a dear sea lion perched astride bright red (of course) letters trumpeting: YES! For an instant, tears of joy filmed my eyes.
“Don’t cry.” Kay was obviously distressed. “I didn’t intend to be disparaging, but, frankly, you are so young and pretty, it’s hard to take you seriously.” She clapped a hand over her lips, looked appalled. “Did I say that? How many times was I treated like that when I was your age!” She shook her head in bewilderment. “Of course you aren’t that age, even if you look it. How confusing is that?”
My, a seal of approval from Wiggins and a compliment and an apology from Kay. I felt like giving another Rebel yell, but settled for a pleased smile. “‘No offense meant, none taken.’”
Her laughter was genuine and appreciative. “Anyway, you’ve done excellent work.” She bit her lip, flashed me an impish glance. “For a pretty young woman. Okay.” Her smile fled. “If Shannon pushed Jack, she’d try to steer suspicion to someone else. Do you suppose she knew about Ryan?”
I drank the fizzy club soda, slowly shook my head. “She’d have told me, especially if she was trying to implicate Gwen.”
Kay stirred the ice in her Coke. “Paul was circumspect when I asked about Shannon. She’d been a client. I asked the circumstances. He said the matter had been settled and he wasn’t at liberty to discuss it. When I got back, I checked with Evelyn. She was more forthcoming. When Shannon was fourteen she rammed her bicycle into a teenage boy who was throwing rocks at a cat. She knocked him down and he ended up with a broken nose and five stitches in his chin. His parents sued. Jimmy got his dad involved. The suit was settled. Evelyn didn’t know whether James had provided money, but she thought so.”
It was my turn to murmur “oh.” “Hotheaded. Impulsive. Lacks control.”
Kay glanced at the notebook. “Shannon’s not the only one with a temper. Paul said Evelyn is quick to anger, slow to forgive. The Castle matters more to her than people. She takes enormous pride in the art collection. Although she dutifully responds to charitable requests, her gifts are respectable, but not overly generous. She never hesitates to spend several hundred thousand for a painting or sculpture that she wants.”
I was puzzled. “How can art matter that much to her when she has such poor vision?”
Kay shrugged. “Pride of possession? Perhaps having Alison describe a work and knowing that the painting hangs at The Castle is enough. Maybe the art collection gives meaning to her life. Paul said Evelyn was resentful, angry that she’d never met anyone to love, that she’d spent her time caring for her father without any support from her brothers.”
Kay glanced again at her notes. “As for Diane, Paul said she’s timid, easily flustered, affectionate, and vulnerable. Paul thought it was a shame Jack hadn’t dislodged Laverne and Ronald. He said”—Kay’s eyes met mine—“that Diane would fight to the death to keep them at The Castle.”
I remembered Diane’s pitiful “I’d rather die” when she spoke of losing Laverne. “When a weak person is backed into a corner, the response can be vicious.”
Kay said briskly, “‘Dangerous if threatened’ sums up Diane. Jack had no intention of easing up on the Phillipses.”
“Wouldn’t Diane wait until she was certain he could prevail?” I had no doubt Diane was desperate to keep Laverne near, but I thought the threat would have to be certain before she would act. “Is she decisive enough for preemptive action?”
Kay was thoughtful. “For all we know, Jack may have spoken to Diane Saturday evening. I think she would have to be absolutely desperate to commit murder.”