Duma Key(163)

"Not yet," I said.

"But the little girls drowned," Jack said. Like he was trying to get it straight. "This Perse-thing lured them into the water. Or something."

"Yes," I said. "Or something."

"But then there was a search. Outsiders."

"There had to be, Jack," Wireman said. "People knew they were gone. Shannington, for one."

"I know that," Jack said. "It's what I'm saying. So Elizabeth and her Dad and the housekeeper just dummied up?"

"What other choice?" I asked. "Was John Eastlake going to tell forty or fifty volunteers 'The boogeylady took my daughters, look for the boogeylady?' He might not even have known. Although he must have found out at some point." I was thinking of the picture of him screaming. Screaming and bleeding.

" What other choice covers it for me," Wireman said. "I want to know what happened after the search was over. Just before she died, Miss Eastlake said something about drowning her back to sleep. Did she mean Perse? And if she did, how does a thing like that work?"

I shook my head. "Don't know."

" Why don't you know?"

"Because the rest of the answers are on the south end of the island," I said. "At whatever's left of the original Heron's Roost. And I think that's where Perse is, too."

"All right, then," Wireman said. "Unless we're prepared to vacate Duma posthaste, it seems to me that we ought to go there."

"Based on what happened to Tom, we don't even have that choice," I said. "I sold a lot of paintings, and the guys at the Scoto won't hold them forever."

"Buy them back," Jack suggested. Not that I hadn't already thought of that myself.

Wireman shook his head. "Plenty of the owners won't want to sell, not even at twice the price. And a story like this wouldn't convince them."

To this, no one said anything.

"But she's not quite as strong in daylight," I said. "I'd suggest nine o'clock."

"Fine by me," Jack said, and stood up. "I'll be here at quarter of. Right now I'm going back across the bridge to Sarasota." The bridge. That started an idea knocking around in my head.

"You're welcome to stay here," Wireman said.

"After this conversation?" Jack raised his eyebrows. "With all due respect, dude, no way. But I'll be here tomorrow."

"Long pants and boots are the order of the day," Wireman said. "It'll be overgrown down there, and there could be snakes." He scrubbed a hand up the side of his face. "Looks like I might be missing tomorrow's viewing at Abbot-Wexler. Miss Eastlake's relatives will have to bare their teeth at each other. What a pity... hey, Jack."

Jack had started for the door. Now he turned back.

"You don't happen to have any of Edgar's art, do you?"

"Mmm... well..."

"Fess up. Confession's good for the soul, compa ero."

"One sketch," Jack said. He shuffled his feet, and I thought he was blushing. "Pen and ink. On the back of an envelope. A palm tree. I... ah... I fished it out of the trash basket one day. Sorry, Edgar. My bad."

"S'okay, but burn it," I said. "Maybe I'll be able to give you another one when all this is over." If it ever is, I thought but didn't add.

Jack nodded. "Okay. You want a ride back to Big Pink?"

"I'll stay here with Wireman," I said, "but I do want to go back to Big Pink first."

"Don't tell me," Jack said. "Jammies and a toothbrush."

"No," I said. "Picnic basket and those silver har-"

The telephone rang, and we all looked at each other. I think I knew right away that it was bad news; I felt that sinking as my stomach turned into an elevator. It rang again. I looked at Wireman, but Wireman just looked at me. He knew, too. I picked it up.

"It's me." Pam, heavy-voiced. "Brace yourself, Edgar."

When someone says something like that, you always try to fasten some kind of mental safety belt. But it rarely works. Most people don't have one.

"Spill it."

"I got Bozie at home and told him what you said. He started asking questions, which was no surprise, but I told him I was in a hurry and didn't have any answers anyway, so short form he agreed to do as you asked. 'For old times' sake,' he said."

That sinking sensation was getting worse.

"After that I tried Ilse. I wasn't sure I'd reach her, but she just got in. She sounded tired, but she's back, and she's okay. I'll check on Linnie tomorrow, when-"

" Pam "

"I'm getting to it. After Illy I called Kamen. Someone answered on the second or third ring, and I started my spiel. I thought I was talking to him." She paused. "It was his brother. He said Kamen stopped in Starbucks for a latte on his way back from the airport. Had a heart attack while he was waiting in line. The EMTs transported him to the hospital, but it was only a formality. The brother said Kamen was DRT dead right there. He asked me why I was calling, and I said it didn't matter now. Was that all right?"

"Yes." I didn't think Kamen's sketch would have any effect on the brother, or anyone else; I thought its work was done. "Thank you."