“Get where?”

“Not sure right now. This is week number six, and, frankly, we’re not sure what’s next. You’ve been magnificent, Mercer, and your progress in the first five weeks has been nothing less than astonishing. We are very pleased. But now that we have the photos and videos, and now that you’ve worked your way into Cable’s circle, we’re debating our next move. Our confidence level is pretty high, but we have a ways to go.”

“We’ll get there.”

“We adore your confidence.”

“Thanks,” Mercer said flatly, tired of the praise. “A question. I’m not sure it’s wise to pursue the ploy of this novel about Zelda and Hemingway. It just seems too convenient, with Cable sitting on the Fitzgerald manuscripts. Are we on the right track?”

“But the novel was his idea.”

“Maybe it’s his bait, his way of testing me.”

“Do you have any reason to believe he might suspect you?”

“Not really. I’ve been able to spend time with Bruce and I think I can read him. He’s very bright, quick, and charismatic, and he’s also an honest guy who’s easy to talk to. He may be deceptive with some of his business, but not when he’s dealing with his friends. He can be brutally honest and he doesn’t suffer fools, but there’s a sweetness to him that’s genuine. I like him, Elaine, and he likes me and wants to get closer. If he’s suspicious, I think I would know it.”

“You plan to get closer?”

“We’ll see.”

“He’s lying about his marriage.”

“True. He always refers to Noelle as his wife. I’m assuming you’re correct when you say they are not really married.”

“I’ve told you all we know. There are no records in France or here of them applying for or obtaining a marriage license. I suppose they could’ve gotten married in some other country, but that’s not their story.”

“I don’t know how close we’ll get and I’m not sure it can be planned. My point is that I think I know him well enough to detect any skepticism.”

“Then stick with his novel. It will give you the chance to talk about Fitzgerald. It’s even a good idea to write the first chapter and let him read it. Can you do that?”

“Oh, sure. It’s all fiction. Nothing in my life is real these days.”

7.

Bruce’s next effort was just as casual as his last, but it worked. He called Mercer Thursday afternoon and said that Mort Gasper, the legendary publisher of Ripley Press, was in town, passing through with his latest wife. Gasper came to the island almost every summer and stayed with Bruce and Noelle. It would be a small dinner, just the four of them, late on Friday, a pleasant way to end the week.

After a few days at the bed-and-breakfast, Mercer was claustrophobic and eager to escape. She was desperate to get her cottage back and counting the days until Connie and her gang went home. To keep from writing, Mercer was walking the beach at all hours, careful to stay miles away from the cottage and keeping a sharp eye for anyone who might be related to her.