“What kind of vehicle was he driving?”

“I don’t know. I only saw the headlights.”

“Was he alone?”

“I have no idea.”

“What was the guy’s name at the DA’s office?”

“Larry Hendricks.” She realized she was breathing more easily, that she was worn-out, that she was thirsty. “Donna?” she asked. “Could you please put the kettle on while John interrogates me?” Her anger about Mark had turned into irritation at John.

“Jesus, Annie. I’m trying to help here.”

She lowered her head. “There’s nothing to do, John. He’s probably off Chappy by now. And he probably took the late boat off the island.”

“It’s almost nine thirty. Unless the guy went airborne, he couldn’t have made it off Chappy and to Vineyard Haven in time.” John was standing then, though Annie didn’t remember that he’d gotten up. His stance was rigid, his gaze penetrating, as if he were awaiting a response. Yes, Annie thought, he was angry that she’d contacted Larry, that she’d tried to circumvent the authorities. His authority.

She shrugged. “I have no idea if he knows anyone here he could stay with. Or which hotels are open before Memorial Day.” The reminder of the holiday made her stomach roil. She had a fleeting thought that their tenants might try to sue them for breach of their leases if the Inn wasn’t finished. “John,” she said, “please forget about it. He didn’t hurt me or threaten me. It was a shock, for sure. But I’m all right. And, like Donna said, he won’t be back.”

“I’ll post someone outside tonight.”

“There’s no need to. Honestly.”

He turned away. “Let’s go,” he said. “There’s nothing to see here.”

That’s when Annie noticed two other policemen—one was coming from the bedroom, the other was inside the front door.

“If this jerk’s still on the island,” John added, “we’ll find him. It’s not as if we have a ton of work to do right now.” He looked back at her, then turned around again and followed his fellow officers out into the night.

Donna set a mug of steaming tea in front of her, and Annie closed her eyes.

“I didn’t know you had a gun,” she said.

“Don’t worry. I have a permit. When I had the business, I dealt with a lot of cash. It made sense to carry one.”

Annie remembered that Kevin had had one, too, locked in the glove box of his truck. She’d never asked if he’d gotten rid of it. “Good thing we’re on Chappy and that it’s still April. Otherwise, you’d probably be arrested for ‘improper discharge of a firearm’ or something.”

“John would arrest me?”

She laughed. “He’d arrest me if he thought I’d broken the law.”

Donna sat again. “In that case, if I have another chance to shoot your ex-husband, I might as well aim for his heart. As long as I’ll be arrested anyway, I should make it worth my while. But first, if you’re okay, I think I’ll go to bed.”