Dangerous Secrets by L. L. Bartlett, Kelly McClymer, Shirley Hailstock, C. B. Pratt Page B

accented English. She brushed a strand of her
long, brown hair behind her left ear, her expression concerned.
    ‶ Much better, thank you.″
    ‶ I am Michele DuBois and this is
my husband, Jean.″
    I introduced Maggie and myself.
    ‶ I was so worried when you had
your accident last night. Frightening things have been happening here.″
She studied my face for a moment, perplexed. ‶ Do you know, you seem to
resemble the doctor.″
    I nearly choked on my coffee. ‶ I
do?″
    ‶ Oui. It′s impossible, no?
But your noses are very similar. I am an artist. I paint for a living. My
specialty is portraits.″
    Jean gently nudged her arm. ‶ We
must go.″
    She smiled. ‶ Good day.″
    After they′d gone, I found Maggie
studying me. ‶ I
don′t think you look like Richard.″
    ‶ He got our mother′s blue
eyes, I got my father′s brown eyes.″
    She shrugged and pushed back her chair. ‶ I′m
going to the room. Want me to bring you anything?″
    ‶ Yeah, my camera bag. If
we′re going out, I may as well take some pictures.″ That is if I
could buy another memory card.
    ‶ Okay. Meet you at the car in
fifteen minutes.″ She headed for the stairs and I left my empty plate and
cup on the table and made for the door to the gardens.
    Although the temperature was in the
mid-sixties, the trees were already beginning to show the change of season. The
highest branches were tinged with yellow and orange. Zack and Susan had dug a
fishpond near the inn′s namesake sugar maple, and I wandered across the
enormous yard, stopping by the miniature lake. Seeing my shadow, the fish
gathered before me, impatiently waiting for food.
    ‶ Sorry, boys, it ain′t
feeding time.″ I sat down on the bench provided and watched the fish swim
in lazy circles.
    A lot of care had gone into the gardens in the
back, but like the front of the inn there were signs of neglect. Maggie said
Zack used to own a landscaping business, so he must′ve had the green
thumb. I couldn′t imagine Susan getting dirt under her long nails.
    ‶ Penny for your thoughts,″
came Richard′s voice from behind me.
    I turned. ‶ I don′t think I can make
change.″
    He held a slice of bread, broke off a corner,
and tossed it into the pond. The fish went wild, like hungry piranha.
    ‶ Are you supposed to do
that?″
    ‶ Probably not.″ He threw
in another piece. ‶ What′s on tap today?″
    ‶ Maggie′s freaked. She
wants to go home. Hell, I want to go home. But I have this feeling
something′s going to break today. If it does, maybe we can leave
tomorrow. In the meantime, let′s do some touristy stuff, get her mind off
all this.″
    ‶ Sounds like fun.″ Plop!
went another piece of bread.
    ‶ We can rendezvous at the
municipal parking lot in the village.″
    ‶ Okay.″ Plop!
    I started off, and then thought of something
else. ‶ What
did you say as you left the dining room to make the DuBois′ laugh?″
    ‶ Last night Michele told me
people always try to get her to do drawings or paintings for free. I told her
people always ask me for free medical advice. At breakfast Mrs. Andolina
entertained me with the history of her uterus.″
    I couldn′t help but smile. ‶ What′s
Michele′s husband do for a living?″
    ‶ He′s an editor at a
magazine in Québec.″
    My smile waned. ‶ Interesting. Laura Ross is a
former editor; Eileen Marshall agented for magazines, and Jean DuBois currently
edits a magazine.″
    ‶ And Maggie′s written for
magazines. It′s only coincidence, Jeff. I can′t see those two young
people involved in anything sinister.″
    ‶ I suppose. Maggie and I
haven′t had any luck penetrating Laura′s steel veneer. Do you think
you could talk to her this evening?″
    ‶ I′ll try.″
    I studied him. ‶ It′s got to be the
mustache.″
    ‶ I beg your pardon?″
    ‶ Why else would women casually
unburden themselves to you?″
    ‶ People always tell doctors
things they′d never tell their spouses. You have no idea