“I remembered that we hadn’t asked Fairchild about those three hundred acres that weren’t part of the Blue Bay Ranch parcel. So I simply got up and went over and asked him if Berry West had approached him about buying the property. He had. Fairchild also knew that Laura was deeply worried about the money she would need for Eddie’s illness. Anyway, we called Major Bissell. He said they were already honing in on Berry.”

“But why did he blow the boat up and how did he do it?” Frances wanted to know.

“I think I know,” Sister said. “No matter how much they washed the boat, some of Millicent’s blood would still be on it. Blow it up and the evidence was gone. Berry fixed it where the exhaust fans wouldn’t come on. He knew a spark from the ignition would blow it sky high.”

“And it could have been anybody who turned it on,” I said. “Even little Sophie Berliner who was out there looking around. Which makes me think he’d gone over the edge. He was a two-bit criminal, not a murderer.”

“That’s crazy, Mouse. Tell Millicent, Emily, and Eddie he wasn’t a murderer,” Sister said shivering.

A small, black-clad figure approached the stile from the beach. She looked up and waved at us.

“Sophie will be okay,” I said. And something told me it was true. But I crossed my fingers anyway.

We heard the front door slam and Fred came out onto the balcony. “Patricia Anne,” he said, “you and I are having lunch at the Redneck Riviera.”

At least I think that’s what he said.

We four women had wished for an adventurous vacation. And we had gotten one, a lot more than we bargained for. It was hard to believe that it had been just a week ago that Mary Alice, Haley, and I had had supper at the Redneck and had run into a radiant Millicent. So much had happened, I almost expected the restaurant to be changed somehow. The lunch crowd was smaller than the dinner crowd, but other than that the same college girls in their Dorothy Lamour sarongs served from the same menu.

Fred and I got a table by a window that opened directly onto the beach. The breeze was so strong, we had to anchor our extra paper napkins with a bottle of ketchup. Over the bar, CNN was on, but with the sound turned off, an interesting effect. Some message the manager was trying to relay?

“You clean up good,” I told Fred. He had on navy shorts and a light blue knit top that made his skin glow.

“Thanks. So do you.”