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it? Did Jennifer learn what her father and Sean were up to? Was the bruise beneath her eye a warning to remain silent?
    When I asked about the car, Jennifer said for years her father had dreamed of owning a red Corvette. Marge added they’d saved every penny they could until they had enough for him to buy it. He’d taken delivery two weeks ago. With a dolorous laugh, she said, “It feels so stupid, spending that kind of money and he’s not here—” She glanced at her daughter. Her eyes filled with tears, she pulled the tissue from her sleeve.
    Sean squeezed Marge’s hand. “At least,” he said, “Jim had the pleasure of driving it a couple of times befor e uh…at least he had that pleasure.” He looked in the direction of the driveway, as if he could see the red car through the wall.
    Marge’s eyes snapped in my direction. If she were sending me a message, it got lost in the mail. Looking again out the window, she said, “Woody also asked about the Corvette. Like he thought Jimmy was on the take or something. Christ, we haven’t gone anywhere on vacation in five years. I haven’t bought new clothes in almost that long.”
    Her protest sounded too vehement. What about the expensive wedding you gave your daughter? I thought. I didn’t say it, though. Instead, I remarked, “You wore a lovely coat to the funeral. What kind of fur is it?”
    Marge’s eyebrows went up. Her expression seemed to ask if I also accused her husband of stealing.
    Jennifer glanced from her mother to me. “It is beautiful, Mom,” she said, and turned to Sean. “Fake fur. Hard to tell, isn’t it? I could use a coat like that.”
    He frowned.
    “Moroni’s,” Marge said. “You know, the furrier on Main Street? Stephen Moroni gave it to Jimmy as thanks for catching his brother-in-law selling coats out of his trunk.”
    The explanation made total sense. The explanation of the new car also made sense. All at once, I felt like the world’s biggest fool for suspecting an old friend. I’d also known Jimmy since high school. He was as straight as any arrow William Tell ever shot. As for Sean’s involvement in something dirty—well, Jimmy never would have let his daughter marry someone who wasn’t as honest as he. Stupid, Emlyn, suspecting this family, I thought. Stupid, stupid!
    We talked a while longer, recalling times we’d spent together; recalling how Jimmy, silk tie undone, tuxedo jacket off, face flushed and words slurred from too much scotch, had pulled me to the floor to dance a reel at his daughter’s wedding. That was three years ago. Now he was gone.
    Leaving his wife and mother-in-law in the living room, Sean walked me to the door. When he opened it for me, he said, “Marge told me Kevin stopped by about two weeks ago. She said he looked awful. Do you know what he wanted?”
    I turned back to Sean. Did he think my ex was mixed up in Jimmy’s death? “How would I know?” I said. “I haven’t spoken to him since God knows when. Didn’t he tell Marge what he was after?”
    “Said he was looking for Jim, is all.”
    My eyes narrowed. “Do you think Kevin has something to do with Jimmy’s death?”
    Sean shrugged, turned away, and closed the door.
    As I left the house where Margaret Osborn now lived alone, a widow, I felt like an idiot. I wanted to kick myself in the rear for the way I’d behaved. I deserve a good kick for thinking I’m a detective, I thought. Well, I was done sleuthing. The next time I saw Roger, I’d mention my ex had looked for Jimmy. Other than that, I’d have to trust Harry Woodward to discover the killer. I could only pray Roger wouldn’t get in his way.
    Unfortunately, things didn’t work like that.

Chapter Six
    Hello, it’s Me
     
                   A s the name suggests, River Road winds along the bank of the Niagara River. The old link between Niagara Falls and Buffalo, the road consists of one sparsely lit lane in each direction. Past the marina, the boat yard, and a few