“On my first day here, you said that even the sweetest-looking sisters might secretly hate each other’s guts. What did you mean by that, exactly?”
“You’re still noodling over that?”
“Well, it’s a pretty loaded comment. Were there problems between Kelly and Shannon?”
“Maybe. But what does it matter now anyway? It’s not like Kelly’s a serial killer.”
“No, but I’m curious.”
“Okay, I heard Kelly say something kind of nasty. About Shannon.”
I waited silently, knowing he couldn’t be prodded.
“It was an hour or so before you showed up,” he said. “I was coming from behind the building—nature called and they wouldn’t let anyone use the head in the ice cream place—and I overheard Kelly talking to her husband. She said, ‘It’s too bad Shannon can’t be here to enjoy this. She would be loving all the attention.’”
Thatwasnasty.
“Any chance it was only a bit of gallows humor, a way to try to cope with the nightmare?”
“Her tone was pretty snide. But like I said, it hardly matters now.”
He was right, but I was still curious, particularly in light of a possible Doug–J.J. affair. I wanted, simply for my own sake, to get the right bead on the family dynamics.
“Well, thanks for sharing,” I said. “I appreciate it.”
“You up here for much longer?”
“Probably for a bit. Not sure at the moment.”
“Why don’t we grab a drink? I’m sure we can both be of service to each other.”
“Uh, sure. Let’s touch base later about that.” I’d rather spend a night cleaning out my wallet, but Wong had provided an interesting nugget, and it would be smart for me to stay on his good side.
As I hung up, his comment about Kelly stayed with me, and I decided I needed more time with her. Even if she and Shannon had actively disliked each other, she might be aware of who her sister had come into contact with during her last weeks.
I texted Alice, asking if she had Kelly’s cell number and would be willing to pass it along. She offered it up two minutes later, adding,It better be a really GREAT bottle of vino.
Before the phone was even out of my hand, I saw that Beau was trying to FaceTime me.
“Hey, you,” I said, answering. His hair was mussed in a cute, sexy way, as if he hadn’t had a chance to comb it all day. “So good to see your face again.”
“Likewise. Sorry not to have called earlier. I’ve been a bit crazed.”
“No problem, I’ve been racing around, too. Is it cool there?”
I could see that he was wearing his beige cowl-necked wool sweater.
“Yeah, and rainy, too, but that fortunately hasn’t stopped us from covering a lot of ground.”
“Have you managed to interview most of the painters you hoped to?”
“Yeah, and I have some good news. Remember that reclusive painter I mentioned? He finally agreed to let me shoot him. We’re heading out to his finca tomorrow. That’s what they call a country house here.”
“Oh wow, that should be fascinating.”
“How about you? Your posts have been great, but the case is sounding stranger than ever.”
“Yeah, really disturbing. It’s been nice for me to hang with that other reporter, Alice. Her company is keeping me sane.”
