Ellery and Dylan exchanged alarmed looks.
“Why would something happen to her?” Ellery asked.
“That’s not what I meant,” Dylan said quickly.
“No,” Nora agreed. “It’s just that one can’t be too careful, and we’ve had a surprising number of murders in the last few months.”
“True.” Dylan directed another uneasy look at Nora, then turned to Ellery. “Anyway, I was going to say good for you. I don’t know what’s got into Sue, but hopefully this will bring her back to earth.”
Ellery wasn’t betting money on it. He changed the subject. “Speaking of mysterious behavior. Where’ve you been? What happened to you Saturday night?”
Dylan looked both smug and self-conscious. “Sorry for bailing on you, given all that happened after I left, but you remember September?”
“September? I wasn’t here in September.”
“No, no. The girl—woman—I met on Saturday. At the bar.”
“Oh, right. The one who wants to be an actress.”
“She is an actress,” Dylan assured him. “She wants to join the Scallywags, and I think it’s a wonderful idea.”
Nora sniffed. Ellery avoided her gaze.
“The more the merrier.”
Dylan beamed. “Exactly! This will bring new blood to the theater.”
“The way things are going, I hope not.”
Dylan laughed more loudly than that deserved. He did seem in very high spirits, and that was great. Who didn’t want to see their friends happy and excited about a new relationship? But Ellery couldn’t help saying, “I thought you and Janet were sort of…”
Dylan looked uncomfortable. “Oh, no. No. Janet is a dear friend. I love Janet.”
“Right. Okay.”
“This girl—woman. September…” Dylan kissed the tips of his fingers.
Sugar and spice and everything nice? Personally, Ellery felt that Janet, who owned Old Salt Stationery, was a good match for Dylan, but maybe they knew each other a little too well. Besides, Dylan was not the settling-down kind, as Miss September would soon discover.
“So that’s where you were all weekend? With September?”
“Yep. She was showing me her clippings.” Dylan winked.
“Yikes.”
Dylan laughed heartily. “Anyway, sorry I wasn’t there to stop you from tripping over another murder. I just popped in to make sure you’re coming tonight.”
Monday nights were game night in Pirate’s Cove. Ellery had recently become a member of the Monday Night Scrabblers, where he was vying with Janet for the title of Scrabble Champion (not that there was really such a title).
“I’ll be there,” Ellery assured him. He enjoyed hanging out and drinking with the Scrabblers, plus they provided a great alternative source of village gossip.
“Perfect. See you then!” Dylan nodded to Nora and departed.
The doorbell chimed cheerily behind him.
“Oh dear,” Nora said, pretty much echoing Ellery’s feelings.
It was a slow day for sleuthing and a slower day for selling books.
During the morning, Ellery tried phoning Julian but was told he was with his lawyer. After lunch, he tried again and was told Julian was unavailable. He had no idea what that meant, but in a way, it was a relief. Jack’s revelations the evening before had shaken him, no question. But just because someone had experienced emotional difficulties in the past didn’t mean they were emotionally unstable forever.
He still had every intention of helping Julian, but he was less and less sure of the best way to do that. Certainly, knowing the truth about what happened to Brett was the best, really the only, possible starting point. If, in his poking around, he came to the conclusion that Julian was guilty… Well, he would have to jump off that bridge when he came to it.
Some of the objections he had raised to Nora’s efforts to pin the murder on Marguerite held true for Julian as well. Julian’s costume, while more conducive to running and fighting and shooting, had shown no obvious sign of strenuous use. No rips, no tears, no blood spatter—and with a victim who had been shot several times, there would have been at least some blood spatter.
Also, Julian’s hands must have been tested for gunshot residue. The fact that Mrs. McGillicuddy’s informant hadn’t mentioned that tidbit surely meant the tests had proved negative? If there had been blood on Julian’s clothes or residue on his hands, Ellery was pretty sure Jack would have said so when he was making his case last night.
“If you need help, ask me, and I’ll do what I can.”
Jack had been sincere in his offer, but Ellery didn’t want to abuse that generous impulse. He figured he would hold off until he had a whole list of questions, and then hit Jack with all of them at once. That would teach him.
* * * * *
Libby was not at game night, and Tom Tulley was not happy about it.
Ellery had been about five minutes late arriving at Dylan’s. He could tell by the golf carts and cars parked along the street that everyone else had already arrived, but when he walked through the front door, not a board game was in sight and the Monday Night Scrabblers were grouped in Dylan’s retro modern living room, listening to Tom vent.
“I don’t think I’m overbearing,” Tom was saying. “Do you think I’m overbearing?”
By what seemed to be unanimous consent, the Monday Night Scrabblers did not think Tom was overbearing.
“Here you are!” Dylan exclaimed, coming to meet Ellery.
“Sorry I’m late—” Ellery didn’t have a chance to complete his greeting before Dylan hustled him off to the bar area with its captivating display of vintage movie posters.
“What’ll you have? A Tipsy Mermaid? A Drunken Pirate?”
“Tipsy Mermaid. What’s going on?” Ellery threw a look back at the living room, where the low-voiced conversation continued.
“Libby has broken up with Felix.” Dylan grabbed a bottle of Blue Curacao and began pouring.
“That’s a shame, but they’re both pretty young. They’ve got plenty of time to—”
“And she informed Tom this evening she’s not going to college in the fall.”
Now that was a shocker. “Why?”
“He couldn’t get a clear answer out of her. Something about wanting to live life to the fullest and not waste her best years in school.”
“Her best years? Isn’t she nineteen?”
Dylan nodded.
“How much living life to the fullest does she think she can do in her own backyard? She lives on a tiny island with less population than most small towns. She was going to go to school in Providence. She was going to Brown. She even has a couple of grants, doesn’t she?”
Dylan said darkly, “Tom thinks there’s a boy involved. Another boy.”
“Another— Oh. Oh.” Ellery remembered walking out of the Salty Dog with Jack the week before, and Jack’s exchange of words with the spiky-haired kid with defiant eyes and ripped jeans. Ned something.
“Some young hooligan has been hanging around her. Tom has banned him from the pub.”
“Is he underage?”
“No. That’s the problem. He’s twenty-three.”