a party at Gibbs Pond that they may or may not have attended.
When Jasmine is close enough to speak to, he says, “Miss Kelly? May I have a minute?”
Jasmine Kelly recoils. “Me?”
The two boys remain at her side, sentries. The Chief likes this; she has loyal friends.
“It’s nothing bad,” he says. “I just have a few questions.”
She regards him frankly. Why her out of all the guards? she must be wondering. Why her and no one else? “Is something wrong?”
“No,” he says, holding up his palms. “I could just use some help, and someone gave me your name.”
“Who was that?” she asks. She’s not being rude, but she’s certainly not eager to help. The Chief can tell, even from this brief exchange, that she’s a straight shooter and will give him the truth.
“Joe DeSantis,” he says.
“Big Joe!” one of the boys says, then clamps his mouth shut.
“It’ll take only a few minutes,” the Chief says. “I won’t keep you.”
Jasmine sighs. “Wait for me, you guys, please,” she says, and she trails the Chief over to his car.
Ed says, “I’m investigating Vivian Howe’s death.”
“Are you, though?” Jasmine asks.
Whoa, Ed thinks. She’s tough. Well, she’s Cruz’s girlfriend, so he probably deserves her suspicion.
“Do you remember the night before Vivian Howe died?” he asks. “There was a bonfire at Fortieth Pole?”
“Yes,” Jasmine says. “It was mostly seniors, my class, local kids.”
“Do you know anything about a photo from that night being sent around by Peter Bridgeman?”
Jasmine frowns, shakes her head. “Peter? No. But I did see him hanging out with Marissa that night, after she and Leo broke up.”
“Leo Quinboro?”
“Yes. Really, the only thing that happened at that party was that Leo broke up with Marissa. And later, Leo disappeared and I saw Marissa sitting in the dunes with Peter. But I don’t know anything about a photo, sorry.”
The Chief needs to think for a moment. Leo broke up with his girlfriend? Neither Cruz nor Leo mentioned this. And then the girlfriend was seen with the Bridgeman kid? The Bridgeman kid then sent Leo and Cruz a picture—of him and Marissa, maybe? Was that what had them so upset? Or maybe it was a photo of only Marissa, a nude or whatever, which would have been upsetting coming from Peter Bridgeman.
Peter Bridgeman is at camp for the summer in Maine. He must have left pretty soon after Vivian Howe’s death. Peter Bridgeman’s mother is Pamela Bonham of the Bonham Insurance Agency. Did Peter Bridgeman head over to the Howes’ early on Saturday to see Leo? Did he want to confront Leo—or apologize?
Did Peter Bridgeman hit Vivian Howe? Cruz told the Chief that he was coming from the Bridgemans’ house, that he went to see Peter but Peter didn’t answer the door. He also said he didn’t see Peter’s truck. Maybe Peter had just left; maybe Cruz had missed him by a matter of minutes and knew he was heading over to the Howes, so he chased him, which would explain running the stop sign and speeding.
The Chief will find a way to talk to Peter Bridgeman. But before he does that, he needs all the information he can get.
“This Marissa,” Ed says, pulling out his notepad. “What’s her last name?”
“Lopresti,” Jasmine says.
The Chief stops, looks up. Lopresti, he thinks.
Willa
Pamela needs to talk to Willa, but she wants to do it when neither Zach nor Rip is around, which is tricky. Then a day comes when Zach is flying himself over to the Vineyard to see his “buddy Buddy,” who heads air traffic control at MVY. They get together once a year. Zach is leaving early and will be gone all day.
“Can you come to my house at nine?” Pamela asks Willa.
“I have work.”
“Can you come at noon?”
“I’m having lunch with Rip at the club,” Willa says—though this isn’t true. She has an OB appointment at the hospital.
“Cancel it.”
“I can’t,” Willa says.
“The two of you are freakish in your devotion,” Pamela says. “Do you hear me? Freakish.”
Willa is proud of being freakish in her devotion. At least she’s not monitoring her husband’s every move trying to figure out who he’s sleeping with.
“I know,” Willa says with some smugness.
“Can you come now?” Pamela asks. “Stop by on your way to work?”
“I was planning to ride my bike to work today,” Willa says.
“Drive instead, you’ll have extra time that way,” Pamela says. “There’s something I have to show you.”
Willa doesn’t want to drive; she wants to ride her bike. And she’s pretty sure she doesn’t want