Murder With Puffins(84)

I glanced around the party, trying to convince myself that everyone present wasn't pointing at me and snickering at my failure. I saw that Rhapsody had arrived and, as I expected, had immediately become enthralled with Mother. She followed Mother around, literally sitting at her feet, absorbing her every word and gesture as if the fate of the world depended on it. She had already picked up some of Mother's mannerisms. Mother, of course, was eating it up and acting even more charming and elegant than usual.

Damn. On top of everything else, I didn't need to feel like one of Cinderella's ugly stepsisters.

"Don't be so gloomy," Michael said, handing me a glass of the champagne. "Aren't you glad it turned out to be an accident?"

"It isn't an accident until the police say it is," I said. "Sorry, I don't mean to take it out on you."

"I understand," he said. "It's not as if you can take it out on your dad; he didn't mean to get lost just at the one moment when we really could have used his expertise. Look, don't worry so much about Jackson; I'm sure we'll figure out some way to--"

"Great news," said Kenneth Takahashi, appearing beside us. "I mean, I'm sorry the old goat's dead, but thank God it was an accident."

I noticed that Takahashi had learned one thing from the birders at least. He had grasped the concept of protective coloration, and now he wore clothes as faded and mud-stained as the best of them.

"Well, don't let your guard down yet," I said. "Some of the birders would still give you quite a hard time if they knew why you came here."

"Oh, that's all right," he said, waving his glass genially. "If they ask me what I do, I'll tell them I'm in land use. Sounds vaguely conservationish. They seem to like that. They keep trying to feed me."

I had a sudden mental image of birders trying to coax him out of a tree with handfuls of sunflower seeds and cracked corn.

"Pity there isn't a decent restaurant on the island," he added.

"Is that your latest development project?" I asked, fearing the worst.

He shuddered.

"Good heavens, no!" he exclaimed.

"That's good," I said. "I think the people who come here like roughing it a little."

"Obviously," he said. "Each to his own; me, I plan to do everything I can to make sure I never have to come back here in my entire life. Up till now, my idea of roughing it was staying at a hotel without a four-star restaurant nearby."

Somehow, I had a feeling that Ken Takahashi's rather jaundiced view of Monhegan would soon make the rounds to every real estate development firm on the East Coast. Which should do much, I thought with satisfaction, to discourage any other developers who might have their eyes on the island.

"That reminds me of something," Michael said. "Could I have a word with you?"

He dragged Takahashi off into the corner and the two of them began an animated discussion about something. I leaned back and tried to concentrate on a yoga breathing technique that was supposed to improve one's mood.

"Meg?"

Of course, you had to do the breathing for a little more than ten seconds before it started to have any effect. I bit back an oath and opened one eye. Rob stood in front of me.

"Dr. Peabody and that other birder want their digital cameras back," he said.

"We have to give the photos to the police," I said.

"But if it's not a murder…"

"We don't know that until the police say so," I said.

"But can't we just--"

"No."

"I could download the photos if you like," Rob offered.

"Then we could just give the data files to the police."

"Good idea," I said. "Want to do it now, since the power's on?"

Rob looked plaintively at his champagne glass.

"Then I'll hold on to them until you're ready," I said. I picked up the knapsack containing cameras in question then stormed into a corner, where it was quieter.

Get over it, I told myself. What harm would it really do to let them have their silly cameras? I took the other birder's camera out of my knapsack and began flipping through the photos. I was brooding over one that showed the fateful tidal pool when Mother came up behind me and looked over my shoulder.

"Oh, what a lovely view of the shore," she said. "You should print that out and have it framed, dear."

I wondered if I should tell her that this picture showed where we'd found the body of her late beau. Better not, I decided. I flipped to the next photo, one of the tidal pool from a slightly different angle.

"I liked the first one better," Mother said. "More unspoiled."

I peered at the photo. It looked much the same as the first, except that in one corner you could see a tiny flash of orange.