this, but I’m very concerned about your granddaughter, Katharine.”
The icy fear settled in Kate’s heart. She sputtered. “Why?”
“Those surfers, Kate.” Grace Rowling sounded patient, as if she were explaining the obvious to a child. “They’re dangerous men. I just heard that Jon Michael was attacked by a shark. Well, good. One down, two to go.”
Grace’s hard words—she spoke so softly and sounded so Midwest wholesome—had caught Kate off guard. “Two to go?” she asked, grateful that Marlene had remained quiet.
“Yes. Claude and Roberto. They were with Jon Michael and my daughter the night Amanda disappeared.” Grace blinked, but tears fell and then rolled down her cheeks. She didn’t wipe them away. Kate doubted she even noticed them.
For a moment Kate wondered if Grace Rowling had anything to do with Jon Michael’s death. How? Had she hired someone to sic a shark on him? Kate felt as crazy as her thoughts.
“I’ve seen you on television, Grace,” Marlene said, “and it’s all so sad. Why don’t you tell us what you think happened to Amanda?”
Sometimes Marlene really got it right. Kate smiled at her sister-in-law.
Grace smiled at Marlene, too. Clearly, she’d come to tell them her story and she needed them to listen. “My daughter is beautiful and talented. She’s only a fair student, but a wonderful actress. She played Liza in My Fair Lady in the senior play. And she’s so popular. Everyone loves Amanda.”
It broke Kate’s heart to hear Grace talk in the present tense. Did she really believe Amanda was still alive?
“Acapulco was her graduation present, her last fling with her two girlfriends before starting college. She’s enrolled in UCLA, you know.” Grace sipped her Diet Coke, probably laced with more rum than she’d wanted. “On the night before she was to fly home, my daughter, who’d told her girlfriends she had a date—but hadn’t told them his name—left the Tropicana Club with a young, blond male. Several witnesses, including the bartender, swear to that.”
“With just one of the boys?” Kate asked.
“Yes, though the bartender said she’d been drinking at the bar earlier with three young men, all surfers, two blonds and a Latino. They’d been in the bar before, but he didn’t know their names.”
“But he couldn’t recall which blond?” Kate vaguely remembered hearing that during one of Grace Rowling’s countless television interviews.
Grace tried to grin; it turned into a grimace. “I guess all WASP tourists look alike to Mexican bartenders.”
“So either Claude or Jon Michael left with Amanda.” Marlene was mixing another martini.
Ballou had settled down between Kate and Grace, a compliment to their guest, and was now snoring.
“Well, the three surfers admitted that they’d bought Amanda a drink, but swore that none of them left with her.” Grace placed her right index finger on her left pinkie. “Claude says he never saw Amanda leave; he was in the men’s room.” She moved her right index finger to her ring finger. “And Roberto and Jon Michael swear they’d left the Tropicana Club at the same time and saw Amanda heading toward the beach. Alone.”
“What do the Mexican police think?” Kate asked, knowing the answer.
Grace groaned. “They claim they’re still investigating all leads, but they allowed those three surfers to leave the country after only asking them a few questions. ‘ Sí , Señora Rowling, it is all very suspicious, but there is no evidence and no body’ has become their mantra.”
“And Amanda had mentioned the surfers to you before she disappeared.” Marlene drained her glass. Kate hoped it was Marlene’s nightcap.
“Yes, we talked every night. Amanda told me on the phone the day before she disappeared that she had a crush on a sexy blond surfer.” Grace sighed. “It had to be Jon Michael. No girl in her right mind would describe Claude Jensen as sexy. My daughter has made some poor choices
The icy fear settled in Kate’s heart. She sputtered. “Why?”
“Those surfers, Kate.” Grace Rowling sounded patient, as if she were explaining the obvious to a child. “They’re dangerous men. I just heard that Jon Michael was attacked by a shark. Well, good. One down, two to go.”
Grace’s hard words—she spoke so softly and sounded so Midwest wholesome—had caught Kate off guard. “Two to go?” she asked, grateful that Marlene had remained quiet.
“Yes. Claude and Roberto. They were with Jon Michael and my daughter the night Amanda disappeared.” Grace blinked, but tears fell and then rolled down her cheeks. She didn’t wipe them away. Kate doubted she even noticed them.
For a moment Kate wondered if Grace Rowling had anything to do with Jon Michael’s death. How? Had she hired someone to sic a shark on him? Kate felt as crazy as her thoughts.
“I’ve seen you on television, Grace,” Marlene said, “and it’s all so sad. Why don’t you tell us what you think happened to Amanda?”
Sometimes Marlene really got it right. Kate smiled at her sister-in-law.
Grace smiled at Marlene, too. Clearly, she’d come to tell them her story and she needed them to listen. “My daughter is beautiful and talented. She’s only a fair student, but a wonderful actress. She played Liza in My Fair Lady in the senior play. And she’s so popular. Everyone loves Amanda.”
It broke Kate’s heart to hear Grace talk in the present tense. Did she really believe Amanda was still alive?
“Acapulco was her graduation present, her last fling with her two girlfriends before starting college. She’s enrolled in UCLA, you know.” Grace sipped her Diet Coke, probably laced with more rum than she’d wanted. “On the night before she was to fly home, my daughter, who’d told her girlfriends she had a date—but hadn’t told them his name—left the Tropicana Club with a young, blond male. Several witnesses, including the bartender, swear to that.”
“With just one of the boys?” Kate asked.
“Yes, though the bartender said she’d been drinking at the bar earlier with three young men, all surfers, two blonds and a Latino. They’d been in the bar before, but he didn’t know their names.”
“But he couldn’t recall which blond?” Kate vaguely remembered hearing that during one of Grace Rowling’s countless television interviews.
Grace tried to grin; it turned into a grimace. “I guess all WASP tourists look alike to Mexican bartenders.”
“So either Claude or Jon Michael left with Amanda.” Marlene was mixing another martini.
Ballou had settled down between Kate and Grace, a compliment to their guest, and was now snoring.
“Well, the three surfers admitted that they’d bought Amanda a drink, but swore that none of them left with her.” Grace placed her right index finger on her left pinkie. “Claude says he never saw Amanda leave; he was in the men’s room.” She moved her right index finger to her ring finger. “And Roberto and Jon Michael swear they’d left the Tropicana Club at the same time and saw Amanda heading toward the beach. Alone.”
“What do the Mexican police think?” Kate asked, knowing the answer.
Grace groaned. “They claim they’re still investigating all leads, but they allowed those three surfers to leave the country after only asking them a few questions. ‘ Sí , Señora Rowling, it is all very suspicious, but there is no evidence and no body’ has become their mantra.”
“And Amanda had mentioned the surfers to you before she disappeared.” Marlene drained her glass. Kate hoped it was Marlene’s nightcap.
“Yes, we talked every night. Amanda told me on the phone the day before she disappeared that she had a crush on a sexy blond surfer.” Grace sighed. “It had to be Jon Michael. No girl in her right mind would describe Claude Jensen as sexy. My daughter has made some poor choices
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