Chapter 48

HASTEN INN

Wednesday afternoon

Day eighteen

Mrs. McFarland had provided an impromptu lunch. She didn't normally provide lunch to her guests, much less guests of guests, so Jon was grateful for the cold meats and toast that she had set out with her usual, unflappable energy. Trewe and Perstow were eating as Jon pushed his untouched lunch away. They had spent the evening and night garnering forces, comparing notes, and assigning tasks. After four hours of sleep they were ready to start again.

It had been three weeks since Jon had stumbled after Tavy on the coastal path, when Chelsea led them to Victoria Benton's body dressed in Annie's clothes. Today was another inquest. The condiment jars rattled when Jon's fist hit the table.

Perstow stopped munching to stare at him. "Sar?"

"Do policemen go mad with inactivity?"

"No," Trewe growled.

"How is it," Jon demanded, "someone like the postmistress could get away with keeping such a thing quiet for so long?"