Death With An Ocean View (A Kate Kennedy Mystery Book 1) by Noreen Wald

I still can’t believe Stella’s gone.”
    Kate swept across the room and sat on the couch, planting herself between Mary Frances and her quarry. “Joe,” she said, all warm and toasty, locking her eyes on his, “at a time like this, it helps to talk. Tell us about you and Stella. I’ll bet she was a delightful young woman.”
    “More like a pugnacious little brat. We were in first grade together—I told you that—and she organized a mini revolt, protesting against the small boxes of Crayolas, demanding the larger size that held forty-eight different colors. Our teacher didn’t stand a chance. In less than a week she caved and every kid in the class had the bigger box of crayons.” He paused and accepted a glass of white wine from Marlene. “Stella was a skinny kid, with wild black curls, great big charcoal gray eyes, and the rosiest cheeks I’d ever seen.” He laughed. “I can thank her for changing my life and coloring my conversation. Anyway, that little brat sure caught my attention and I’ve loved her since the day I met her.” He took a sip of his wine.
    Kate certainly hadn’t expected such a seemingly sincere and passionate response. She’d rehearsed several questions with Charlie while getting dressed, but now, completely thrown, she couldn’t remember any of them.
    “So you two dated all through high school?” Mary Frances placed a hand on Joe’s arm and, though Kate couldn’t be sure, seemed to give it a squeeze.
    He turned away from Kate to answer Mary Frances. “Well, I carried her books, passed out her protest pamphlets, and rode her back and forth on my bike all though grade school, but in our junior year, she ran for president of the student council and started dating the far more dashing captain of the football team. About broke my heart. But he dumped her for a cute blond trick—I forget her name—and Stella and I got back together.”
    “And when did you get married?” Mary Frances had tilted her head forward, so that her lips were inches from Joe’s, and no doubt about it, she was squeezing his arm.
    “Right after high school I joined the Marines. Stella’s mother had died by then, and her father, well, he drank too much—so we got married and moved to North Carolina.”
    Kate started, remembering what Marlene had said at the pool on Wednesday morning. “So when did Stella attend Northwestern?”
    Joe spun around to face Kate. “Never. Why do you ask? When I was stationed in California, Stella took a few acting classes at UCLA, then enrolled in a secretarial school. Got herself a damn good job at a movie studio. She’d always wanted to be a movie star. I guess working as a stenographer at MGM was the next best thing.”
    Somehow Kate doubted that Stella would have agreed with Joe’s conclusion.
    Marlene placed a small tray of cheese and crackers on the coffee table. “Why don’t you try the Brie, Joe?” She spread some on a cracker and handed it to him. “You know, I spent a lot of time with Stella. On the beach. Playing Hearts. At condo meetings. She never mentioned living in California, but she certainly mentioned graduating from Northwestern—even wanted that fact to be included in her obituary.”
    Reaching for the cracker, Joe said, “Oh that Stella…always playing a role.” He paused to swallow.
    Kate paused too. Could they all be role players? Was she playing the June Cleaver wife and mother? Was Marlene playing the tough gal with a heart of gold? Was Mary Frances playing the coquette? Was Joe, in his crisp khakis and white linen shirt, playing the sainted husband, still loyal to the dead sinner?
    With a wry grin, he continued, “We lived in California for almost three years, then I was assigned to Guam. No way would that woman move there—so that’s when she first came up with our married, but separated scheme. We lived apart on and off for years.”
    “And you agreed to that?” Marlene sounded angry. At what? Or whom? Joe? Stella? Kate couldn’t