“I like him, too,” Anthony said, not to be outdone. “He’s a man’s man.”

“If you were directing this, Anthony, how would you play it out?”

“Just the way we did when we were at the pond. They were there. She’s going to remember. The only problem that I see is this, who’s going to play the part of Jeff King when they do their reenactment? Cady didn’t say. I don’t even know if any of them even thought about it. They’re all grown-up now. They weigh more today than they did back then. When police do reenactments, they try to get it as close to the real event as possible. I’m hoping Mr. Boomer is planning on using dummies whose weight would be the same as the kids’. But”—he held up a warning hand—“Cady said she had her bathing suit on under her dress. That means, to me at least, that she’s planning on doing the zip line. I wish we had asked more questions this morning.”

“We could all pile into the car and go there,” Lola said. “Not to interfere, but to watch. Should we give it a go? I’m on pins and needles sitting here. What if something goes wrong?”

“Stop thinking like that, Lola. It is going to rain, my knees are starting to ache, and the temperature is dropping. What do you think, Anthony?”

“What I think is we need to mind our own business. We got the ball rolling, now we have to sit back and rest on our laurels. We won’t be able to alter the outcome, so what’s the point in upsetting Cady and the others by showing up. Furthermore, it won’t be a true reenactment if we’re there,” Anthony said logically.

“Someone’s at the gate,” Mandy said when a shrill whistle blasted out of the security monitor mounted in Lola’s bedroom.

“Its probably some pesky salesperson. Don’t even bother seeing who it is. We aren’t expecting company. That’s a damn order, Mandy.”

Mandy was back on the terrace as fast as her arthritic knees would bring her. “Lola, I can’t be sure, but I think it’s Cady’s mother. She’s driving a dilapidated car. I haven’t seen her in years and years, but it certainly looks like your daughter-in-law. What should I do?”

“Good God! Go! Ask who it is. Things always happen like this in the movies, never in real life. Well?” she shouted.

“She said her name is Agnes Jordan. Agnes Jordan is your daughter-in-law. Your son isn’t in the car in case you’re interested. Should I buzz her in?”

“Now what do you think?” Lola snapped. “It figures she would show up now. This isn’t even good Grade B movie material. We need to go downstairs. Anthony, open the elevator and let’s see what she wants. She has to want something.”

“Lola,” Mandy said, putting a hand on her shoulder, “try to be kind. Don’t fly off the handle. And remember, she’s Cady’s mother.”

“Do you think for one minute that I could ever forget that? I’m not an ogre. I know exactly who to blame for everything—my son, Asa. Open the door for her. Anthony, make some coffee. She doesn’t drink. At least I don’t think she does.”