“I have a recording of an interview with Kip Harwood, admitting that the Stone twins did not, repeat did not, sail back to Boston on his yacht on the day of the last murder in Islesboro, and that they left Nantucket on their airplane!”

“No shit? And do you have testimony on where they landed and when, and when they took off again?”

“Not yet. I thought you might want the honor of wrapping it up.”

“Yeah, sure, the honor! Nice try! Tell you what, you get me a written, sworn statement from Kip that puts them on Islesboro at the time of the murder, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“You’re an unreasonable man, Tom. I’m giving you the cake. All you need to provide is the icing.”

“You give me both, and I’ll give you the knife to slice it with.”

“I have to do everything around here,” Stone muttered.

“Now you know how I feel!” He hung up.

“Well,” Stone said, “it was worth a try.”

25

Carly Riggs slid into her desk in class; Tim Scott was already in the next desk. “Are you ready?” she whispered.

“We’re all set,” he whispered back. “My car is on the right-hand side out of the front door, a tan station wagon. We’ll leave separately and meet up there.”

Somebody rapped sharply with a gavel, and the large room fell quiet.

—

An hour later, in the car, Tim turned down a dirt track and drove for half a mile. They emerged into a small clearing, hemmed in by trees on three sides and open to a beautiful view of the lake on the fourth.

They got out, and Tim retrieved a picnic basket and a blanket from the rear of the wagon and spread the blanket on the thick grass. “Lonely enough for you?”

“Perfect,” she said. They sat down on the blanket and kissed. “Don’t you want lunch?” she asked.

“I want an appetizer first,” Tim said, unzipping her jeans and pulling them off. The thong took only a second longer.

A few minutes later, they lay dozing, his head on her belly. They heard a car door close somewhere.

“What was that?” she asked.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“What if we’re disturbed?”

“So what? They’ve probably seen a naked girl before.”

“Ouch!” she said.

“What’s the matter?” Then something stuck his back, and he didn’t seem to care what it was anymore.

—

Carly woke first, just a little. She became aware that she was spread-eagle on a bed, her hands tied on each side and her legs apart, secured at the ankles.

“How was it?” a male voice asked.

“Sweet. It’s a pity we can’t save some for later.”

“We need to get them out of here.”

“I know. First, another shot.”

Something stung her right buttock, then he moved away. “Him, too.”

“Have you got the thing rigged?”