“They didn’t know Dinah the way we know Dinah,” Peter pointed out. “You can hardly say somebody murdered her. She was eighty-something, for God’s sake. She was harmless.”
“Maybe. But I don’t think anybody is ever harmless, not really. People—people push. It has nothing to do with age.”
“I’d’ve thought this was one conspiracy theory even too bizarre for you. You can’t be serious.”
“Well, I’m not, really,” Amanda said, but it wasn’t true. She was perfectly serious. She had been thinking all this out for weeks. “It’s just that you have to admit it’s curious. All that with the guns and everything.”
“They weren’t killed with the same gun.”
“I know. But wouldn’t you have expected it would have been Dinah who was killed with Stu’s gun and not Tisha? And how did Tisha end up getting killed with Stu’s gun anyway?”
“Tisha ended up getting killed with Stu’s gun because some asshole teenager took it off Stu’s wall and went blasting into the distance without paying attention to what he was doing. Amanda, we’ve been through all this before. Stu couldn’t possibly have killed Dinah or Tisha or anybody else. He was with me when both those people got shot and for a good long time before and a good long time after. It just won’t add up.”
“I know it won’t,” Amanda said. “I just can’t help wondering. I mean, the timing was perfect, wasn’t it? Now Tisha can’t file for an injunction and the Celebration is safe.”
“For the moment.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that in all probability the Celebration is unconstitutional as all hell and not long for this world. Is that the downstairs bell? I think somebody’s trying to get in to the office.”
Somebody was definitely trying to get in to the office. Amanda could hear not only the bell, but the sound of feet pounding against the mat on the porch, trying to stay warm. She got up, took Peter’s terrycloth bathrobe off the chair next to the bed and wrapped herself up. Then she went to the window and looked out. The porch out there had a roof, but only a partial one. If you got the right angle, you could see who was out there calling on you.
“It’s Cara Hutchinson,” Amanda said. “Should I go down there and see what she wants? We’re supposed to be taking ads today. And announcements.”
“I’ve got to start hiring somebody to sit at the desk,” Peter said. “This is getting ridiculous.”
“Should I go?”
“I’ll go if you want. Just call down and tell her I’ll be a minute.”
“That’s all right. It’ll take me less time to get dressed than you. I’ll do it.”
One of the reasons it would take Amanda less time to dress than Peter was that Amanda already had more on than Peter. Peter liked to sit up in bed all day naked, but it made Amanda self-conscious. She got into her underwear as soon as it seemed feasible. She opened the window and stuck her head out into the cold.
“Cara? It’s me, Amanda. Give me a second. I’ll be right down.”
Cara backed up and came down the first of the porch steps to the street. “Amanda? Did I wake you up?”
“No, no. I’m fine. I’ll be right there.”
“Hurry up. I’m freezing out here.”
Amanda knew how freezing it was. The wind was blowing in on her and her bones were chilled. This was what they called a “mild” winter in Vermont, and “warm” weather for December. It made Amanda crazy. She searched around in the wardrobe until she found one of her jersey dresses, dropped Peter’s robe to the floor and pulled the dress over her head. It had short sleeves and a wide neckline and was totally inappropriate for the season, but it would have to do. She shoved her bare feet into moccasins and said, “I’ll only be a minute. Why don’t you think about what you want to do about dinner.”
“Mmm,” Peter said.
“At least think about thinking about it.”
“Mmm.”
Amanda bit her lip. It was impossible, really. It was always impossible with men. They didn’t listen. It had seemed new and unusual with Peter for a while only because he didn’t listen to different things. Amanda let herself out of the bedroom, made her way across the living room and came out on the landing to the stairs. When she got to the next landing, she chose the door into the newspaper offices and made her way around the equipment to let Cara in the front door. She didn’t see any reason to get any colder than she absolutely had to.
She reached the front door, pulled it open and practically pulled Cara inside. It was getting dark out there, and Amanda always thought it was colder in Vermont in the dark.