“Well, there’s the Jacksons’ car, the Mercedes station wagon. I phoned the lawyer whose number you gave me, and we made a deal. I’m sending him a check, and he’s sending me the title.”

“Excellent.”

“Billy, do you have a key to the house with you?”

“I believe I do. Let me look.” Billy went to his car, opened the center console, and found the key, properly tagged. “Come on, I’ll let you in.”

“We’re going to be a while, I think,” Smith said. “Do you mind if we keep the key?”

“I guess that’s all right,” Billy said. He walked back to his car, passing the Petersons’ rental car. He hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a leather pouch for a long weapon, a rifle or a shotgun, on the rear parcel shelf. He wondered how they traveled with that.

Smith came out on the upstairs porch and looked around.

“Oh, Smith,” Billy called. “How did you folks travel here?”

“We have some friends who have a King Air they keep in New Jersey. Their pilot flew us directly to the island, where we called for a rental car.”

“Will they come and get you when you leave?”

“Probably. We haven’t thought that far ahead.”

Billy gave them a wave and drove away in his car. Easy to bring a weapon on a private plane, he thought. Still, Peterson hadn’t mentioned any intention to do some hunting, and that wasn’t allowed on the island, anyway.

He got back to the store, then retrieved the Petersons’ file. Time to put the closing package together. Some of the papers had gotten combined with the Jacksons’ file, and he sorted them out. As he did, something caught his eye, something in the brokerage agreement they had signed.

Grace Jackson had filled out their information sheet and signed the brokerage agreement. She had signed it Grace P. Jackson. He sat down at his computer and entered Grace P. Jackson obituary into the search bar. One came up immediately, the kind submitted by the funeral home. Grace’s maiden name was Peterson, and her only sibling was a brother, Smith Ames Peterson, MD. Billy printed the obit and took it with him.

He drove over to Stone Barrington’s house and rang the bell. “I know,” he said when Stone opened the door, “you’re seeing too much of me.”

“Not at all, Billy. Come right in.”

—

Stone could see that Billy had found something. He was practically bursting to tell him.

Dino came into the room and joined them.

“What is it, Billy?”

“I found out a little more about the Petersons,” he said. “Look at this obituary.”

Dino stood behind Stone, and they both read the obit.

“Grace’s maiden name was Peterson?”

Billy nodded. “And she had one sibling: Smith Peterson.”

“And you consider this hinky?” Dino asked.