Free A Deadly Vineyard Holiday by Philip R. Craig Page B

door.
    â€œDoes the president really come to places like this for clambakes?”
    Karen spread her hands. “He likes to eat, and he’s impulsive about where and when he does it. It drives security crazy, but that’s the way he is.”
    â€œSo he might really come?”
    â€œHe has a tight schedule, so he may not be able to make it. But then again, he’s supposedly on vacation, so he might. He’s the president of the United States, remember. He doesn’t have to eat broccoli if he doesn’t want to, and if he decides to accept your invitation to have clams here, I don’t know who’s going to tell him he can’t, especially since he has to head back to Washington the next day.”
    â€œHe’ll come,” said Debby. “When do we go clamming tomorrow?”
    â€œEarly afternoon. Low tide. Make sure you bring the twins. I need their muscle.”
    I stepped back, and Karen drove away.
    About a half hour past midnight, Zee came home. She was surprised to find me still up, and said so.
    We sat on the porch and I told her about Burt Phillips and what had happened since his death.
    â€œI’m glad Debby’s up at John and Mattie’s place,” said Zee. “But maybe we’d better send her back to her parents tomorrow. I don’t like all this stuff. If somebody’s after her, she’ll be safer there than here.”
    I’d been thinking about that very issue, and surely so had Walt Pomerlieu, Jake Spitz, and the rest of the security people. But Cricket was still here, supposedly, instead of at the compound. It was a curiosity.
    â€œBesides,” said Zee, putting a hand on my thigh, “I don’t like us being in the line of fire, if there is a line of fire. I don’t want us to be two of those innocent civilians who get shot by mistake.”
    â€œMaybe we’re not in as much danger as we think we are,” I said.
    â€œHow could that be? There are dozens of agents there, and only Karen here.”
    â€œYeah, but how many people know that Debby’s here and not there? I’ll bet that only a handful of people know where she is, and that that’s her security. If nobody knows where she is, she’s safer than if they do.”
    â€œAnd that’s why you let her go stay with the twins. But who are they hiding her from? And what about Burt Phillips? He must have had some reason for watching our place. Did he know she was here? And if he knew, who else knows? And who killed him? And why? I don’t like any of it. I really think she should probably go back to the compound. I don’t want to be responsible for her safety.”
    â€œI don’t know who killed Burt Phillips or why, but I can think of one reason why Walt Pomerlieu might think Debby’s safer here than at the compound.”
    â€œYou mean a traitor.”
    â€œOne person’s traitor is another person’s hero,” I said. “All I’m saying is that what with this Burt Phillips business and all, common sense says to send Debby back to the compound. But that hasn’t happened, and the only reason I can think of for that decision is that Walt thinks there’s somebody there who’s a threat to her.”
    â€œBut who’d want to hurt Cricket?”
    Zee, ever the healer, had a hard time imagining evil intent. I had less trouble.
    â€œOn the bright side of things,” I said, “the presidentand his wife may be coming for clams on Sunday. Debby invited them, and I said it was okay.”
    â€œYou did! My gosh! I have to wash my hair!” Her hands flew up to her head, and she stared into space the way she does when she’s thinking. “We’ll have to clean the house, and mow the lawn, and do the flower beds so they don’t look so scraggly. I should call Manny Fonseca and cancel tomorrow morning’s shooting down at the club, so I’ll have time to get this place looking good.