Back to the Plot

        Joseph went back to his car and opened the passenger door.  She laboriously climbed off the kneeling cushion. “Here’s your purse.”

       “I suppose they’ve dusted it!”

       “They got it from Bobby’s car. It had your prints, Bobby’s prints and someone else’s.”

        “Theirs, most likely!”

        “No. But after they fingerprint everyone on the island they’ll know whose. Ma?”

         “Yes, Joseph?”

         “You’re going to have to figure this out. For your sake and my sake and Bobby’s sake. And your grandson’s. And for the sake of everybody on the island. They’re never going to be able to do it. And we can’t live like this, suspecting each other.”

         “We mostly do. It’s island tradition.”

         “Not this bad,” said Joseph. “Talk to Bobby. Cook something up.”

         He walked back to the toolshed. She put her purse down on the garden bench and clunked down on it herself.