Read Online Remember Me by Mary Higgins Clark - Free Book Online Page B

them.
    Interesting, he thought.
    A maid led him to the sunporch at the back of the house where Graham and Anne Carpenter were seated on brightly cushioned wicker chairs, sipping iced tea. At the funeral service, Nat had gotten the impression that these were cold people. The only tears he had seen shed for Vivian Carpenter Covey had been her husband’s. Looking at the couple in front of him, he was embarrassed to realize how wrong he’d been. Both her parents’ patrician faces were visibly strained, their expressions filled with sadness.
    They greeted him quietly, offered iced tea or whatever beverage he preferred. On his refusal, Graham Carpenter came directly to the point. “You’re not here to offer condolences, Mr. Coogan.”
    Nat had chosen a straight-backed chair. He leaned forward, his hands linked, a habit his colleagues would have recognized as his unconscious posture when he felt he was onto something. “I do offer condolences, but you’re right, Mr. Carpenter. That is not the reason I’m here. I’m going to be very blunt. I’m not satisfied that your daughter’s death was an accident, and until I am satisfied I’m going to be seeing a lot of people and asking a lot of questions.”
    It was as though he had jolted them with a live wire. The lethargy disappeared from their expressions. GrahamCarpenter looked at his wife, “Anne, I told you . . .”
    She nodded. “I didn’t want to believe . . .”
    â€œWhat didn’t you want to believe, Mrs. Carpenter?” Nat asked quickly.
    They described for him their reasons for being suspicious of their son-in-law, but Coogan found them disappointing. “I understand your feelings about not finding a picture of your daughter anywhere in her home,” he told them, “but it’s been my experience that after this kind of tragedy, people react differently. Some will bring out every picture they can find of the person they’ve lost, while others will immediately store or even destroy pictures and mementos, give away the clothes, sell the car of the deceased, even change homes. It’s almost as though they believe removing any reminder will make it easier to get over the pain.”
    He tried a new tack. “You met Scott Covey after your daughter married him. Since he was a stranger, you must have been concerned. By any chance did you investigate his background?”
    Graham Carpenter nodded. “Yes, I did. Not a very in-depth investigation, but everything he told us was true. He was born and raised in Columbus, Ohio. His father and stepmother retired to California. He attended but did not graduate from the University of Kansas. He tried acting but didn’t get far and worked as a business manager for a couple of small theatrical companies. That’s how Vivian met him last year.” He smiled mirthlessly. “Vivian insinuated that he had a private income. I think that was a fabrication for our benefit.”
    â€œI see.” Nat stood up. “I’ll be honest. So far everything I’ve been told checks out. Your daughter was crazy about Covey, and he certainly acted as though he was in love with her. They were planning to go toHawaii, and she’d told a number of people that she was determined to be a good scuba diver by the time they got there. She wanted to do everything with him. He’s an excellent swimmer but had never handled a boat before he met her. The squall wasn’t supposed to come in until midnight. Frankly, she’s the one who was experienced and should have known to turn on the radio in order to monitor the weather.”
    â€œDoes that mean you’re giving up the investigation?” Carpenter asked.
    â€œNo. But it does mean that except for the obvious factors that Vivian was a wealthy young woman and they had been married only a brief time, there’s really nothing to go on.”
    â€œI see. Well, I