"NOW, HANNAH, THAT'S NOT EXACTLY THE TRUTH," ROB said softly.

She gave him a quick look of contempt. "Robert, are you questioning my word and my honor?"

"No, ma'am," he said quickly, "but I've kept in touch with Wes over the years, and he denies wholeheartedly that Joanne was behind his leaving." Rob turned to me and explained, "Wes and I were in school together."

"I didn't know that you kept in touch," Hannah said with a snap in her voice.

"There was no need to mention it to you," Rob said, clearly trying to placate her. "He calls you, too. I know it, because he tells me about it."

"My son telephones me twice a year, on my birthday and on Christmas Eve," Hannah said. "How often does he contact you?"

"We email back and forth every now and then," Rob admitted. "He's told you that he'll email you, too."

"I can't even work a cash drawer," Hannah said in exasperation. "How am I supposed to learn to work a computer?"

"I don't know what to tell you, but it's just about the only way he communicates these days," Rob said.

Hannah looked puzzled by Rob's earlier statement. "If my son didn't leave because of Joanne, then why did he go so far away?"

I didn't want to be in the middle of that conversation, but there was no way to bow out of it without being obvious.

I could tell that Rob was choosing his words carefully. "Hannah, he just got tired of living in a small town."

She didn't like that answer. "Nonsense. He hasn't found happiness in New York City, has he?"

"I couldn't say anything about that," Rob answered, though I had a suspicion that he might know. "From what I gather, he's happy enough, and how much more can any of us hope for these days?"

Hannah frowned, and I could swear she wanted to cry. "I don't want to discuss this anymore. It distresses me too much."

"There's just one more thing," Rob said. I saw him draw in a deep breath before he asked her for an alibi, and a part of me wanted to stop him, but unfortunately, I needed to hear the answer myself. "Hannah, have you been in your shop all day?"

"No, I ran some errands this morning. I didn't open until one today."

"Would you mind telling me where you were earlier, then?"

"Of course I mind. Robert, I'll ask you to leave now." She turned to me and said in a softer voice, "You should go as well, Savannah. I believe this conversation is over."

"If you tell me," Rob said, not budging one inch, "then I can promise that I'll leave you alone."

"Here's a surprise for you. You're going to do that regardless," the older woman said, showing a hint of the s.p.u.n.k that was just beneath the surface. "Leave my store, Robert."

They locked stares for nearly a minute, and then Rob finally turned and left without saying another word.

"I'm so sorry," I said to Hannah as soon as he was gone. "I didn't mean to be a part of bringing up bad memories for you," but it was as though I hadn't spoken. Hannah went back to her register tape, and I left her shop in silence.

Once I was outside, I said, "That was chillier than I ever thought Hannah could muster."

"To be honest with you," Rob said, "it was no more than I expected from her. She's got a mean streak very few folks around here know about, and that woman can hold on to a grudge like n.o.body I've ever seen in my life."

It was certainly news to me. "Before we went in there, I would have said that Hannah wasn't capable of committing murder."

"And now?" Rob asked.

"I'm not so sure. Tell me something. Why did her son really leave town, if it wasn't because of Joanne?"

"If you want to know the answer to that, you're going to have to ask him yourself," Rob said with a ring of finality to his statement that wouldn't bear further questioning.

"In other words, it's none of my business."

"I wouldn't exactly go that far," Rob said with a grin, "but I'm not saying anything else about it, either. That takes care of our list, at least the ones who aren't currently being questioned by the police. What did you have in mind next?"

I glanced at my watch and saw that it was getting late. "I'm not sure there's much more we can do tonight."

"I can believe that. Savannah, if you need me tomorrow, I'll be at the hardware store first thing," Rob said.

"Thanks, but I should be fine on my own for a while."

When he realized that I meant business, Rob said, "I'm not joking around here. If you need someone to watch your back and Zach isn't available, call me day or night."

"I will," I promised.

I watched Rob walk down the street back to his store before I headed for my own car. Why was he being so helpful, where Barbara had stonewalled me? Was it because of some sense of loyalty he felt to me from our friendship, or did he have his own reasons to want to know what had really happened to Joanne Clayton? He'd admitted himself that they'd been close once, and I had to wonder if he was looking for a little justice on her behalf.

Either way, I'd use his help if I could, but only if I had to; I wasn't comfortable risking anyone else's life in my informal investigation.

As I walked to my car, I decided it was time to head back to the cottage. With any luck, Zach would be there waiting for me, and we could compare notes about what we'd learned so far today.

Chapter 7.

"THERE YOU ARE," ZACH SAID AS I PARKED MY CAR AND walked up the path to our front door. "I've been wondering when you were going to get home." He was out front admiring the mix of annuals I'd planted in our raised beds along the walkway, filled with flowering plants that hummingbirds were supposed to love. We'd already lost the race against time between when the flowers would bloom and when the delightful little birds started their migration south. Zach had been right to bet that the tiny birds would be long gone before the blossoms could do them any good, but I still held out hope for a bright floral display. Even if they hadn't been ready in time for the birds, I'd been watching the frost warnings and covering the beds with spun fiber cloth as protection. I was determined to enjoy at least a few blossoms before a heavy frost killed the delicate plants.

"I'm surprised you beat me home," I said.

"Is it a good surprise, or a bad one?" he asked as he wrapped me up in his arms. There was a chill in the air; though nowhere near freezing, I was still glad to have him hold me.

"It's always a good thing," I said as I buried my head into his chest.

"Always?" he asked as he stroked my head.

"Well, almost," I admitted. "There's no chance you cooked something for dinner, is there?"

"Sorry, I haven't been here long myself. We could always have chili," Zach said. One of the few things my husband could cook was chili, and whenever he was stuck at home without anything to work on, he'd make batches and batches of the stuff. I'd freeze it, and we'd pull some out whenever neither of us felt like cooking that night. I wished he'd learn to make something else, but he claimed that his chili had special powers to intensify his thought process, and I was in no position to dispute it.

In all honesty, I wasn't all that thrilled about having chili tonight, but then again, I was also too tired to cook anything myself.

"Chili sounds great," I said.

"Excellent. While it's defrosting, you can tell me about what you've been doing since we split up."

I nodded, but I wasn't going to give up my hard-won information without a little equal exchange. "Only if you promise to bring me up to date on what you've been doing, too."

He frowned for a second. "Savannah, I can tell you most of it, but there are a few things I'm not in any position to reveal. I'm truly sorry about it, but I owe that much to Captain North."

"But you'll tell me everything the second you can, right?" I asked as I pulled out a container of chili and popped it into the microwave.

He nodded and put his hand over his heart. "I promise."

My husband was, above all else, a man of his word. "That's good enough for me. Where should I start?"

"How about the second you left me in Asheville?"

"Hey, you told me not to be that specific anymore."

"I know," he said with a laugh. "Can I help it if I missed you?"

"I missed you, too, though sometimes I wonder why," I answered with a smile.

As he set the table, I started sharing with him everything I'd learned since we'd been apart.

He stopped me when I told him about Barbara. "You could make her that promise, you know."

"Zach, how am I going to keep anything from you? She should have known better than to ask me." The microwave stopped, so I stirred the chili a little before resetting it. After it was busy doing its job again, I looked at my husband and asked, "Should I have told her, and then kept what I found out to myself?"

"It seems fair to me. After all, I'm going to have to hold a few things back from you," Zach said as he put a gla.s.s of milk in the freezer while the chili finished warming through. He loved his milk nearly frozen, though it hurt my teeth when I tried to drink it that cold.

"That's different," I said.

"Why? Because I'm working with the police?"

"No, that's not it." I thought about it for a minute, and then said, "I suppose I could have agreed, but what it boils down to is that I don't like someone else dictating my behavior to me."

"I know that more than anyone else would," he said with a smile. "Still, if your investigation stalls, you might have to make that promise after all."

"Why don't I burn that bridge when I get to it," I said. "Besides, I don't think I'm going to need her help."

He looked surprised by that response. "You're certainly not going to do this by yourself."

"I won't," I said. "I enlisted someone else to help me in my cause."

"Really?" he asked as he got out the saltine crackers and the cheddar cheese. "Who's playing Watson to your Sherlock Holmes?"

"Rob Hastings," I said as I checked the chili again. It was almost ready.

"I would love to know how that came about," Zach said.

"Think about it, Zach. Who knows more about what's going on in town than Rob does? I mean, besides Barbara Brewster."

He nodded as he sliced off a few pieces of cheese. My husband was a purist when it came to his chili, but I liked to add a dollop of sour cream to mine-something he frowned upon but had finally stopped commenting about. "That's a good point. Was it tough convincing him to help you?"

"As a matter of fact, he dove right in," I said as I served the chili in nice ceramic bowls we'd picked up on a trip to Charlotte once.

"No offense, Savannah, but why would he be so eager to give you a hand? I know you two are friends, and I heartily approve, but he should have more motivation to stick his neck out than because he likes you."

"I was surprised, too, but because of something I haven't told you about yet. It seems that Joanne was best friends with Rob's late wife, Becky, before she died. Rob thinks Becky's death is what turned Joanne so sour to the world. He told me that he'd always held out some hope that Joanne would someday recover from her foul mood, and I think he was angry that she didn't get the chance."

He shrugged. "Okay, I'll buy that. Did you two have any luck? I'd be interested in getting Rob's take on all of this, since he knows the princ.i.p.als better than we ever will."

I nodded as we sat down at the kitchen table to eat. "The first thing we did was speak with Greg Lincoln and Hannah Reed."

The names clearly surprised him. "I know Rob must have had a reason to interview the two of them, but I can't imagine what it could be."

"Believe me, I was surprised, too. Evidently Rob saw Greg arguing on the street with Joanne a few nights ago. It turns out that the two of them were dating, and they had a fight about something. From what Rob said, it was all pretty intense."

Zach stopped eating and frowned at me, so I asked him, "What's wrong?"

"I'm having trouble picturing Greg and Joanne together," he admitted. "It's not an obvious match, is it?"

"Take my word for it and stop before you can picture it," I said, and then took another bite. Despite the frequency of having my husband's chili, it honestly was pretty good. "The toughest part is not picturing it once it's stuck in your head."

"I think I'll quit while I'm ahead, then." He took another bite, and then asked, "Did he say what they were fighting about?"

"Greg claimed that they'd had a little tiff, and that they had them all of the time, so it was no big deal."

Zach took a bite of chili, and then asked, "Did you believe him?"

"No," I said flatly. "His whole story sounded rehea.r.s.ed to me."

He nodded. "I trust your instincts. What about Hannah? What possible reason could she have for killing Joanne?"

"We went to see her at her shop, and she told us she believes that Joanne ran her son out of Parson's Valley, though Rob told her point-blank it wasn't true. Apparently he's been corresponding with Wes on the Internet, and Hannah's son claims he's happy in New York."

"But Hannah didn't buy it?"

"Not only didn't she believe him, the woman practically threw us out when Rob said it."

Zach nodded. "That might bear looking into as well. She sounds pretty touchy about the whole thing. Is there anything else to share tonight?"

"That taps me out. Now it's your turn."

As I took a healthy bite of chili, Zach said, "Some of this I can't tell you, but I can fill in some of the questions you are probably asking yourself about now. We spoke with Sandra, Laura, and Harry today ourselves. It turns out they all had grudges against Joanne."