Our life here isn’t exactly meager. We play bridge on Sunday night with neighbors and on Friday night with Gloria and Pat. We work in the garden, go to the beach, to the movies, and occasionally drive up to L.A. for dinner and a concert. Sometimes, on weekends, Gloria’s son Brian and his girlfriend come down for a visit. Often, Frank and Brian will lose themselves under the hood of Brian’s 1956 Pontiac, his proudest possession, while Sally and I play gin rummy under the porch awning. During those after­noons, Frank is his most animated, working furiously on that Pontiac or mowing the lawn or joining us in cards. But Brian’s visits are a mixed blessing. When he and Sally leave, I can see the depression settling on Frank as plainly as the Big Dipper settles on the treetop across the street from our front porch. We usually sit on the porch after Brian leaves and have two beers before bed. Rarely do we speak; we just sit and smoke and sip our beer. But it was on one of these nights I learned the truth about Wanda Lowell’s testimony in court. A woman happened to pass by wearing white heels and I thought of Wanda with her dulled, cracked shoes.

“I wonder if Wanda Lowell’s ever been to California.”

“I doubt she’s ever been more than forty miles outside of Ridgeway,” said Frank.

“I wish there were something we could have done for her.”

“We gave her a day’s worth of revenge.”

“Revenge?”

“Two days, really. The day she testified and the day you were acquitted.”

“What kind of revenge?”

“She lied, Irene, and they believed her.”

“Lied? How did she lie?”

“She came to see me and asked if there was any way she could help. She never came to the shack that night. I just told her the facts and the two of us worked out the story together. Then I took her to Mr. Bates. When I saw that he believed her, I decided it was worth the chance. She was happy to do it.”

“To perjure herself? Didn’t she want anything—money or . . .”

“She wanted conspiracy. She wanted to make one big slash at the whole town and get away with it. Besides, she believed us. To offer her anything would have been insulting. It would only have shown we didn’t understand her reasons.”

I said nothing more about it. I’m in no position to presume or refute someone else’s motives. Not even Regina’s.