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Arthur smiled. “I do indeed. Got a game scheduled for tomorrow morning, in fact. The Villantry Golf Course is not exactly world-class and the rain has a way of canceling out a lot of games, but I figure that’s a small price to pay to live here.”
“Life is so unpredictable,” Bernice said. “What a coincidence, eh, Amy? You and I both finding true love where we least expected it.”
Amy began to look anxious again. “Right. Hey, what’s all the excitement about here in Villantry? We saw banners hanging over the main street. Something about fireworks in the park on Saturday evening.”
“Didn’t you know?” Arthur popped another oyster into his mouth. “The town is going to dedicate the new wing of the Raymond C. Villantry Memorial Public Library on Saturday. Big event. Madeline Villantry and her son, Raymond Junior, are pulling out all the stops.”
“The new library wing is really a very generous gift to the community,” Bernice said politely.
Amy raised her brows. “Do I detect a note of dutiful peasant gratitude?”
Bernice made a face. “Sorry about that. The Villantrys are nice enough in their own way, and Lord knows they’ve done a lot for this town. But they never forget for one minute that they are the leading family in Villantry. Very conscious of their position, if you know what I mean. Madeline is quite good in the role of Lady Bountiful.”
Owen grinned briefly. “But the noblesse oblige stuff from the lady of the manor gets to be a bit thick at times, I take it?”
Bernice rolled her eyes. “I’m afraid so. Then, too, even though we’re all adults now, I suppose a part of me can’t quite forget that when we were in high school together, Madeline was the acknowledged beauty of the town. She got every boyfriend she wanted, including one or two of mine.”
Arthur shifted uneasily in his chair and cleared his throat. “Villantry Fishing built this town. Most of the jobs here are connected to the company. I worked for Villantry myself years ago, before I went off to Arizona.”
“What did you do in Arizona?” Owen asked easily. He pretended not to notice Amy’s sharp glance.
“Started a construction company. Got lucky. Hit the building boom in Phoenix. Always thought I’d retire there, but after my wife died I felt restless. Did some traveling and then, on a whim, I decided to see what had happened to my hometown.”
“We met in the library,” Bernice said with a rueful laugh. “So I suppose one could say that we owe the Villantrys.”
Arthur paused with the fork halfway to his mouth. “Speaking of Villantrys,” he murmured, “here comes the lady of the manor herself, and Junior. He runs the business now, you know. Took over when his old man died three years ago.”
Owen glanced up to see a handsome woman in her fifties moving regally down the aisle between a row of tables. She was followed by a man in his early thirties who looked as if he was on the wrong coast. He wore a pale yellow sweater tied around his neck and a bored look that spoke of having grown up with a sense of entitlement.
The dining room hostess trotted deferentially ahead of the pair, as though to make certain no rude serfs lumbered into their path. Madeline paused briefly at various tables to greet people with heavy-handed graciousness. Raymond Junior paused with her. He was not so gracious, however. He appeared impatient.
A moment later the entourage halted beside the table where Owen and the others sat. Owen and Arthur got to their feet. Madeline acknowledged their chivalry with an aloof inclination of her head. The nod said more plainly than words could have that such good manners were only to be expected.
“Do sit down, both of you.” Madeline’s smile was polite, but her voice was laced with a certain pinched quality. Her gaze touched Arthur briefly before sliding away. “Bernice, Arthur, I’m so glad we ran into each other here tonight. I heard about your engagement, and I want to congratulate both of you.”
“Thank you, Madeline.” Bernice gestured toward Owen and Amy. “I’d like you to meet my niece, Amy Comfort, and her fiancé, Owen Sweet. They’re visiting.”
“How do you do,” Madeline said. “This is my son, Raymond.”
Raymond gave Owen a curt nod. “Our table’s ready, Mother.”
A fleeting frown of disapproval flickered across Madeline’s noble features, and then it was gone. “Yes, of course. You will excuse us?”
“Enjoy your dinner,” Bernice said cheerfully.
“Thank you.” Madeline glanced once more at Arthur and then she was gone.
Something in Arthur Crabshaw’s gaze caught Owen’s attention. In spite of his opinion of the crazy case and the fact that he had more important things on his mind at that moment than solving it, his instincts went on yellow alert.
Not red alert, Owen noticed, just yellow. But a warning light had definitely flashed. He felt Amy go very still beside him. He wondered if she had sensed the same thing he had.
No doubt about it: Arthur Crabshaw and Madeline Villantry had a history.
•••
Two hours later Owen sat in a chair near the window of his darkened room and contemplated the closed door that stood between him and Amy.
He had been studying the door for nearly twenty minutes, ever since he and Amy had returned from dinner and coffee in the lounge.
