Kate choked on a mouthful of macaroni and cheese. She coughed, then coughed again. She was making so much noise, she was interfering with the current speaker, Bernie, who was telling the tale of Dina teaching him how to make a bean drink. "Dina insisted on celery salt," he was saying, "and you had to pour a little of the water from the jar of pickled beans into the glass, too. The only trouble was that she was usually half in the bag by the time she developed an ambition to come around to my side of the bar, and she used about a half a fifth of Absolut while she was at it, which meant there wasn't a whole hell of a lot of room left for the bean juice. So she'd drink off the vodka. And then, of course, she'd have to top off the drink." He paused, then added, "She was without a doubt the worst bartender I've ever not employed."

Kate took the same side door she'd led Pete through. Once outside, she coughed some more and then sneezed violently twice in succession. Her eyes were tearing when finally, wheezing, she said, "What?"

"I guess you didn't," Jim said, handing her a napkin. She mopped her tears and blew her nose. "I found a marriage certificate. You'll never guess who to."

She looked at him.

"John Letourneau."

She gaped at him.

He nodded. "Yeah."

"But I thought—Ruthe and Dina—"

"Yeah," he repeated. "So thought we all."

She remembered, and her eyes narrowed in a way that was reminiscent enough to put him on alert. "But you—"

"Yeah." He refused to apologize. He and Ruthe had been consenting adults. Further, he refused to kiss and tell. "I was new to the Park. I didn't hear they were a couple until after. She never said. There's something else."

Kate couldn't begin to imagine what else. "What, Dina owned stock in Exxon?" It was about as believable. She remembered the two beds in Ruthe and Dina's loft. But they were in their seventies. A lot of older couples chose to sleep alone, sometimes even in separate bedrooms.

He laughed. "No, nothing that bad." He sobered. "Kate, I'm wondering about Higgins."

"The guy you caught with the murder weapon in his hand?"

"I know," he said, "I know. I've got him locked up in Tok. Would you fly up with me and talk to him, tell me what you think?"

Kate was taken aback. "You're asking me for a consultation on a closed case?"

"Maybe it isn't closed."

"Oh, let me guess. He says he didn't do it."

"He says he doesn't know, but, since I caught him with the knife, he figures he probably did."

"How original."

"The Carbondale chief sent me his sheet. There's no history of violence, none, not ever."

"What about his war record? His time in Vietnam?"

He shook his head. "None that they caught him at." "Just talk to him," Jim said. "I'd like to have your opinion." He paused. "Please."