didnât actually push herâtoward the path and they were walking out of the cemetery.
Annie knew that Laurel, with her uncanny ability to pick up on nuances, perceived Annieâs turmoil and she was deflecting Gertrude just as surely as a magician whips a red scarf to conceal the hidden ace. Gertrude kept attempting to turn and look back at Annie and her father, but Laurel firmly grasped her arm and moved them ahead at a rapid rate. And, of course, Annie thought sourly, she was also avoiding a grilling by Annie.
Annie allowed herself to lag back. She didnât intend to talk to her unwelcome companion, but she was not eager to end up by the gate to face Gertrudeâs scrutiny. She walked slowly and stared down at the dusty gray path.
âThereâs something rotten going on.â Pudge Laurance reached out and gripped Annieâs arm.
She swung to face him, yanking her arm free. She realized abruptly that he wasnât looking at her. He had stopped, too, but his eyes followed the women on the path as they curved around a clump of pines and out of sight. His pleasant face was somber, his gaze worried. He tugged at his mustache.
âWhat do you mean?â Why should he care about gossip? Besides, no man would likely pick up on Laurelâsartful handling of Gertrude and the reason why. As for Laurelâand no doubt he, too, had overheard that disturbing soliloquyâwhy should he care what Laurel did?
He bent his head, deep in thought, fingers still tugging at his mustache.
In the silence, Annie studied the man who meant both too much and too little to her. He might have been any island visitor, a blue polo shirt and white crew-neck sweater, khaki slacks, running shoes, but his intelligent features were too bleak for a man on a holiday. He looked up, and his eyes demanded her attention.
âThis Dr. Swanson she talked aboutââ
So he had overheard Laurel.
ââheâs the guy Happy says is taking advantage of her sister. Heâ¦â
Annie folded her arms, held them tightly against her. She shut out his voice. What was it he had said that first dayââAnnie, Iâve looked for you for a long, long time?â Had she ever, even for an instant, believed that he had come to the island seeking her?
âHappy?â Annieâs voice was harsh. âWhoâs Happy?â
Pudge Laurance shoved a hand through his hair. A lock dangled forward and he looked boyishâboyish and uncertain. He swallowed. âHappyâs my ex-wife and her sister isââ
Annie didnât wait to hear. She broke into a run, the dust scuffing beneath her feet. She never wanted to hear about this wife or any wife. Ex-wife. That would be expected, wouldnât it, of a man who wasnât there for anyone, not for Annieâs mother or Annie or this Happy, whoever she was. Annie felt the hot rush of tears. He hadnât come to the island to look for her. She should have known that right from the first. She happened to be living where he cameto see an ex-wife. That was right in character, wasnât it? His arrival had nothing to do with Annie.
As she burst through the gate, veered toward her car, she saw Laurelâs outstretched hand, heard her soft, âOh,â and she saw, too, the avid delight in Gertrudeâs face. Ignoring them both as well as the shout from behind her, Annie slammed into the Volvo, twisted the ignition, pumped the gas and jolted the Volvo back far enough from the blue Morris to swing around and gun toward the dim tunnel beneath the live oaks.
Four
A LIGHT FLASHED on his phone. Max pushed back his Christmas listâwouldnât Annie be pleased with the elegant parchment map of St. Mary Mead?âand punched on the speaker phone.
âMax Darling.â He scanned the rest of his list:
A treasure box tied with a red ribbon with contents that should amaze her.
A yellow cashmere sweater.
A box of Godiva raspberry
Stephen King
Iris Deorre
William Kotzwinkle
Willard Price
Jordyn Redwood
Claire Adams
Hope Callaghan
Lyn Brittan
LeAnn Ashers
Ony Bond