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coat. Take care.”
    “Good night, Mr. Watts. Wish I’d seen that cat.”

C HAPTER 5

    LeRoy continued down Barnes Road to the end and turned right onto the Edgartown–West Tisbury Road. He passed the airport, where the runway lights made a path for incoming planes. The lights looked menacing tonight for some reason. A small plane came in for a landing, right over the road. Right over him. He ducked his head as the engine noise grew to a roar, then faded quickly as the plane touched down at the end of the runway. LeRoy pulled over to the side of the road. He couldn’t see to drive. His hands were shaking and sweat trickled down his forehead into his eyes. He put his hand over his chest. His heart was beating irregularly. He turned off the motor. Was he having a heart attack right here? Would the EMTs find him with the body of Jerry Sparks in the back?
    After a few minutes, LeRoy felt calmer. He turned the key in the ignition and started up.
    A couple of miles from the airport, he passed Victoria Trumbull’s big old house. Her lights were on downstairs and he could see someone moving around inside. LeRoy shuddered when he thought of the way she’d inspected the shop and him. She’d sensed something. He mustn’t forget to fix that outlet of hers on Monday. He prayed that she wouldn’t question him any more about Sparks.
    He checked his speedometer as he passed the police station. The Bronco was parked out front. He braked at the hand-lettered sign by the Mill Pond— SLOW ! TURTLE CROSSING !—stopped at the stop sign on Brandy Brow, then continued up the hill and turned into the library’s parking lot. The lot was full of cars. Damn. Movie night. Tonight it was open until nine. A woman came out with an armload of books and waved at him. A small girl skipped alongside her.
    There was no way on heaven or earth he could move Jerry Sparks to the shed until the library closed. He’d have to drive around and kill a half hour or so.
    It was almost nine o’clock when Elizabeth returned home and parked her convertible under the maple tree. She bounded up the stone steps and into the kitchen. After her divorce, Elizabeth had moved in with her grandmother—for just a couple of weeks, she’d said months ago. She settled into Victoria’s life, and now Victoria, who’d always cherished her solitude, couldn’t imagine life without her.
    Victoria was sitting at the cookroom table, opening mail she hadn’t gotten to earlier.
    “Hi, Gram, I’m home.”
    Victoria handed an unopened envelope to Elizabeth. “You have a letter from your mother.”
    Elizabeth made a wry face.
    “She means well,” said Victoria. “Don’t judge her so harshly.”
    “Was she always like this? I mean, trying to run everybody’s life?”
    “She was very caring, even as a little girl,” said Victoria. She pushed aside a full-color catalog of scanty underwear. “Such a waste of paper.”
    “ ‘Very caring’ translates into busybody . I’m in my thirties, for Pete’s sake. Doesn’t she realize that?”
    “Our children never stop being our children.”
    “You don’t interfere with her life. You never have.”
    Victoria changed the perilous subject of mothers and daughters. “How was the knitters’ group?” She understood Elizabeth’s feelings. Amelia could be difficult.
    “Great. You wouldn’t think you could knit something that looked exactly like coral, would you?”
    “I’d never thought about it before. Are you referring to the quilt you’re making?”
    Elizabeth nodded. “We have to finish it by mid-June, so it can go on tour with other quilts. We’re going to meet every night from now on.”
    “How many quilts are entered so far?”
    “Close to a hundred, I think. People all over the country are working on reef quilts. Ours is three-dimensional. We’re knitting stuff like coral and sea anemonies.” Elizabeth ran water into the teakettle and put it on the stove. “Tea, Gram?”
    “That would be nice.”
    While she