than pop.â
Renie ignored the comment and propped herself up with a couple of throw pillows. âHow many real suspects are there? Iâd guess well under a hundred, if you donât count kids. Probably not too many visitors this time of year. You can do it.â
Judith sank back into the recliner. âI do not intend to interrogate a hundred people. I couldnât. Besides, some of them might not have known Ernie very well. This is like any other neighborhood. People bond through common interests, not addresses.â
âSee? Youâve already eliminated half of the suspects. Keep going. Donât forget, some of these houses are vacant because their owners went south for the winter.â
Judith turned stony-faced. âOkay. Iâll start with you. What did you notice on the way to and along the beach before we found Ernie?â
Renie gazed up at the open beamed ceiling. âNot much. I tend to keep my eyes on the ground, especially when Iâm on unfamiliar turf. In case youâve never noticed, Iâm kind of a klutz.â
âThatâs because when you get in gear, you rush around too much,â Judith said, still annoyed. âAre you sure you didnât notice anything?â
âYes.â Renie turned to look at her cousin. âAnd you?â
Judith made a face. âI didnât either. The locals probably stayed inside because they know when a stormâs coming. Heck, we shouldâve known better than to go out.â She paused, her anger dissipated. âWhy didnât I roll down the window and say hello to Ernie when I saw him on the ferry? Iâm usually outgoing and friendly.â
Renie had gotten up to rummage in the cupboards, apparently seeking snacks. âBecause you didnât know heâd be your next victim?â
âSo he is,â Judith muttered. âI wish I could remember if Iâve met Mrs. Glover. Edna, that is.â
Renie had found some saltwater taffy. She popped a piece into her mouth. âWidonyaser?â
âI wonât ask her if weâve met,â Judith shot back. âThe poor womanâs husband just died. Iâd feel cheeky barging in on her.â She paused again while Renie sat back down. âBut we should offer condolences on behalf of Auntie Vance and Uncle Vince.â
Renie had swallowed the taffy. âNow?â
Judith shook her head. âTomorrow. Even Iâm not that pushy.â
Her cousin merely shrugged. Judith started going over the notes sheâd made at the Sedgewicksâ. The names were no longer those of mere neighbors. Now they were the names of suspects.
T he storm had passed over shortly after Jacobson left. Judith and Renie sat down to dinner at exactly six, lapping up Auntie Vanceâs legendary beef noodle bake. As usual, there was enough left to last for two or even three meals. The boysenberry pie was predictably delicious. They finished cleaning up from dinner by six thirty, with ample time to get to the seven oâclock meeting. Jane had called shortly after five to assure Judith and Renie there was no cancellation. She also gave directions to the clubhouse in case theyâd forgotten where it was located. Which, in fact, they had. Neither cousin had ever been inside the gray frame building that stood at the south end of the development.
âNondescript,â Renie murmured when they pulled in next to a big black SUV. âDonât they have an architect living around here?â
âThe clubhouse was the original sales office. They enlarged it later.â
âThey sure didnât improve it,â Renie said, before exiting the car.
Judith waited to respond until after they were both on the paved path that led to the entrance. But before she could say anything, she saw Mel and Sarah Friedman coming their way.
âHi,â Judith called out. âHow was the doctorâs appointment?â
Both Friedmans laughed as they