“You know,” Mike said, “when I was younger, there used to be this stuff called pepperoni . . .”
“Yeah, and I used to have a dad who had a healthy heart,” Sunny shot back. “Be happy I didn’t suggest pineapple chunks.”
She looked in her wallet and scowled. Then she glanced over at Jane. “Would you mind some company? A pie is a little much for two people. Jane, would you like to join us?”
“What?” Mike said into the phone.
“Are you sure—” Jane began.
“Fine, it’s all set up. See you in about half an hour, Dad.” Sunny ended the call and gave Jane a big smile. “There’s just one thing. You’ll have to pay the freight on the pizza. I don’t have enough money with me.” Jane laughed, and readily agreed.
About twenty minutes later, Jane turned onto Wild Goose Drive. Sunny sat in the passenger’s seat, the cardboard pizza box in her lap, feeling the heat of the pie on her thighs, smelling the sauce, the cheese, and yes, the pepperoni on a couple of slices. She had to swallow deeply, or she’d have started to drool. How long ago was that sandwich she’d eaten at her desk?
Jane parked, and Sunny got out, carefully balancing the pie so that the cheese didn’t shift, and walked to the door. Since she was only carrying a sack with their free liter bottle of soda, Jane got there ahead of her and rang the bell.
“Figured it would save you doing contortions to get the key,” she said.
Mike’s voice sounded on the other side of the door. “Coming, coming.” He swung the door open and smiled at Jane. “Welcome, dear.” Then he turned to Sunny. “Let’s get the guest of honor into the kitchen.”
“And by that he means the pizza,” Sunny explained.
Shadow came up, drawn by all the commotion in the doorway. His eyes went wide and his ears perked up when he saw Jane. He came trotting over immediately. But about a foot from their shins, he stopped, wrinkling his nose. Then he stalked away ahead of them.
The three of them ate in the kitchen, Mike doing his best to play the genial host while shooting sidewise glances at Jane and then at Sunny.
“This must be a very
“That’s an interesting question,” Jane said, sipping at her glass of diet soda as if she wished it were something much stronger. “The chief medical examiner hasn’t yet released Martin’s body. And when I got in touch with them, I found out that someone else had already been making inquiries.”
“Who?” Sunny and Mike said together.
“Dawn Featherstone.” Jane shook her head. “It seems she wanted to save him from my clutches. As if I would want Martin back.”
“Well, this sounds kind of awkward,” Sunny said.
“No, we found a way to resolve it,” Jane told her. “Martin always wanted to be cremated.”
“So when all that is taken care of, Dawn will organize a memorial service, and I’ll pay for it.”
Mike looked scandalized. Cremation was definitely not the Kittery Harbor way. “No funeral? No family?”
“Martin’s parents both passed away before I even knew him,” Jane explained. “My dad is no longer with us either, and my mother is in Arizona. She says the heat makes up for all the Maine winters she lived through. Also, although she’s never said it . . . she never liked Martin. Guess Mom is a better judge of character than I am. And neither of us have any siblings. So I figured I’d let Dawn make whatever arrangements she wants in Portsmouth. That was where Martin went off to have his new life. Let him stay there.”
“Uh-huh,” Mike said, looking a bit thoughtful—and relieved.
