The Perfect Couple(92)

“Caper,” Nick says.

“Hunting for booze in the pool house,” Feather says. “And she said yes and came with me.”

“Then what?” Nick says.

“We opened the gate, we selected a couple of chaise longues, I slid the glass doors to the pool house open, and voilà—full bar! I made a couple of Grey Goose and tonics and brought them out. Merritt said she didn’t want hers, her stomach was feeling funny, and that was just fine by me. I had them both.”

“Did Merritt stay with you?” Nick asks.

“Yes, she stayed. We talked. Turned out we had a lot in common.”

“Did you?”

“We were both involved with married men,” Feather says. “I mean, what are the chances of that?”

Not so slim, Nick wants to say, but he needs to tread carefully here. Feather seems to be genuine but he has been at this long enough to suspect it might be an act.

“Did Merritt say anything about the man she was involved with?” he asks.

“Only that he was married,” Feather says. “And was apparently a real bastard. Pursued her, pursued her, pursued her… then dropped her like a hot potato. Won’t leave his wife, no way, nohow. And I’ll tell you, that all sounded much too familiar.”

“But Merritt didn’t say who the man was?”

“She didn’t tell and neither did I,” Feather says. “We were there to commiserate, not confess.”

“Did she say if the man she was seeing was at the wedding?” Nick asks.

“At the… no. She lives in Manhattan. Why would… are you thinking she was seeing a married man at the wedding and he was the one who killed her?”

Nick needs to redirect. “What happened when you left the pool house?”

“We decided to walk back to the main house,” Feather says. “And we happened across Tag and Thomas and their bottle of Black Barrel.”

“Did they seem surprised to see you two?” Nick asks.

Feather tilts her head. “Did they? I don’t remember. Tag asked if we were up for a nightcap. We said yes.”

“So you’re sitting around under the tent drinking rum and what happens?” Nick asks.

“What do you think happens?” Feather asks. “We get drunk.” She pauses. “Drunker.”

“Was Merritt drinking?”

“I assume so?” Feather says. “Don’t quote me on that because, remember, she had a queasy stomach. After a while, Thomas’s wifey called him upstairs and I figured the party was breaking up. But Tag is a night owl and he seemed game to keep going awhile longer and Merritt asked for water. I got it for her, actually.”

“You got Merritt a glass of water?” Nick says.

Feather nods.

“Did you put ice in the water?” Nick asks.

Feather’s eyes roll skyward, as if the answer to that question is written on the ceiling. “I can’t recall. I’m sorry. Is that important?”

“Did anything else happen while you were inside getting the water?” he asks. “Did you see anyone? Do anything?”

Feather nods. “I took a piss.”

“You went to the bathroom,” Nick says. “Was that before you poured the water? Or after?”

Feather stares at him. “After,” she says. “I left the water on the counter. I mean, I didn’t bring it into the loo with me.”

“But you didn’t see anyone else in the kitchen?” Nick asks.

“No.”

“Did you hear anyone?”

“No,” Feather says. “Fan was on. In very posh houses, you know, they don’t listen to one another tinkle.”

“No one followed you in from outside?” Nick asks.

“No,” Feather says.

“And when you brought Merritt the water, did she drink it?” Nick asks.

“Drank it down like she’d eaten a pound of rock salt.”

“Do you remember clearing her glass?” Nick asks. “Because the water glass wasn’t on the table this morning. But the shot glasses were.”

Feather shakes her head. “I’ve got no memory of clearing the glass or not clearing the glass. If I had to guess, I’d say I left it there, thinking the housekeeper would get it in the morning.”

Nick makes a note: Housekeeper?

“And how did the party finally break up?” Nick asks.

“We ran through the bottle of rum,” Feather says. “Tag said he was going to his study for another. Right after he left, Merritt said she was going to bed. So I was in the tent by myself for a while… then I decided I’d better skedaddle. I didn’t want to stay up late drinking with just Tag.”

“Why not?”

“It wouldn’t look good,” Feather says. “If Greer caught us…” Feather pauses. “I’m terrified of that woman.”

“Are you?”

“Everyone is terrified of her,” Feather says. “She says one thing but you can just tell by looking at her that in her mind she’s thinking something else. Novelists are notorious liars, you know.”

“Are they?” Nick asks.

“Aren’t they?” Feather says. “They lie for a living. They make up stories. So it stands to reason that this tendency runs over into their personal lives.”