Trouble at High Tide by Donald Bain, Jessica Fletcher Page A

was Alicia’s reasoning. Perhaps Norlene was nicer to her than you were.”
    “I was always nice to her. When I first came, I tried to do everything for her, but she wouldn’t give me the time of day.She could flirt and laugh with every man around, but not me. I couldn’t even get a smile.”
    “Maybe she was sensitive to your working relationship with her uncle and didn’t want to create the wrong impression.”
    “You can make all the excuses for her you want, but the reality is, she was just a nasty b—”
    Tom’s booming voice interrupted our conversation as he opened the door from inside the library. “I thought I heard you come in, Jessica,” he said, stepping into the hall. “Would you like some tea or a cocktail?” He looked at his watch. “The sun is officially over the yardarm. Adam’s going to bring me something. Right, Adam? Can he get you some refreshments to tide you over until dinner?”
    “Actually, I had tea less than an hour ago, but thank you all the same,” I said, realizing that I was not going to get out of dinner as easily as I had gotten out of lunch.
    “Adam, please let Norlene know that Jessica will join us for dinner.”
    “Sure,” Adam said sourly.
    “I invited the Reynoldses,” Tom said. “Wasn’t sure if they could make it, but they accepted. They’ve been so busy since they came. Don’t know how they managed to meet so many people on the island in such a short time.”
    “You introduced them to all your friends at the party,” I said, deciding Tom’s publisher had probably not yet found a hotel to move to.
    “Yes, you’re right, of course. Would you mind coming into the library for a moment? I won’t keep you long.”
    “I’m not in a hurry,” I said and followed him into the room.
    The library looked as it had the first time I’d been there, the night Alicia was killed, the furniture grouped around the fireplace, the flowering plant in front of the hearth. But Tom’s desk at the far end painted a different picture. Instead of the perfect still life it had been with pads and pens lined up just so, it was now covered with stacks of papers and files. More papers littered the floor around it, and the top drawer of a filing cabinet hung open, folders spilling out as if someone had roughly gone through its contents. I noticed several books had been removed from the shelves and put back but not in the perfectly neat alignment they had been in before.
    “Excuse the mess,” Tom said, waving me into a seat. “I’ve lost some important papers, probably left them home in Jersey, but I was sure I’d brought them here. They’ll turn up. It’s just that my mind is all a jumble since Alicia. I can’t remember things…” He trailed off.
    “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” I said. “You’ve had a great loss. And it’s been such a short time.”
    “Yes, but—Did I tell you I received a condolence call from the White House?”
    “No! When?”
    “Today. The president was a classmate of mine in law school, but we haven’t really been close since then. He was very gracious, very gracious indeed. His wife, too. She got on the phone to express her condolences. Just amazing! I don’t know whether you’re aware that I’m being considered for a higher office.”
    “I didn’t know. That’s wonderful. What position are you up for?”
    “The truth is, Jessica, there’s a possibility—and I stress that it’s only a possibility—that the president will nominate me to fill a vacancy on the Court of Appeals for the Third Circuit.” He crossed his fingers. “From there, the next step could be the U.S. Supreme Court. What an opportunity!”
    “That’s—that’s big news indeed, Tom. Congratulations!”
    “Don’t congratulate me yet. It’s not a given,” he said. “It’s been pretty hush-hush. There are others under consideration, obvious choices, but the president’s staff responsible for vetting candidates recently contacted me.” He laughed. “Of