Kissed a Sad Goodbye

embarrassing. Not to mention it being a good reason for having had an all-out row with her sister,” Kincaid added, considering the scenario.
    “Which she wouldn’t want to admit, either. But that doesn’t solve the problem of what happened after Annabelle and Reg left the party.”
    They had reached the top of the Isle of Dogs peninsula, and he took Aspen Way to the right as it curved back towards the south and the approach to the Blackwall Tunnel.
    As they entered the tunnel a draft of cooler air swirled into the car. Gemma leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes.
    Glancing at her, Kincaid said, “Were you just trying to get a rise out of Mortimer when you told him that Gordon Finch was good?”
    For a moment, Gemma didn’t respond, then she opened her eyes and gave him a swift look he couldn’t read. “Not exactly. He was practicing when I arrived at his flat yesterday. But I’d heard him before, in Islington.”
    “In Islington?” he said, surprised. “When?”
    She shrugged. “It’s been a few months. But I wasn’t sure until yesterday that it was the same person.”
    “I shouldn’t think Gordon Finch would be easy to mistake,” Kincaid said as the traffic slowed to a dead stop midtunnel. Although he’d learned he couldn’t always tell what made other men attractive to women, he sensed that Finch had a certain magnetism, and if the man had appealed to Annabelle... “The strong, silent type, is he?”
    “Who? Finch?”
    “Or maybe it was the dog that impressed you?”
    “As a matter of fact, I remembered the dog,” Gemma answered equably. “It was seeing him again yesterday that clinched it.” She smiled, examining her fingertips, and he wondered who was taking the mickey from whom.
    They rode the rest of the way to Greenwich in silence, but he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that Gemma was holding something out on him.
     
    JO LOWELL ANSWERED HER DOOR BEFORE Kincaid had lifted his finger from the bell, and at the sight of them her face fell. “I was just on my way out. I’m late for a meeting with a client. The children were dreadful this morning—” She stopped. “Never mind. What can I do for you?”
    She was dressed to go out, in crisp trousers and a white silk blouse. A dusting of makeup minimized her freckles, her dark auburn hair was pulled back with a gold slide, and she wore a pair of simple topaz earrings. For the first time Kincaid realized how attractive she could be.
    “It won’t take a minute,” he apologized, and she stepped back, ushering them in with good grace.
    “Is this all right?” she asked, indicating the dining room. The vase of yellow sunflowers still stood on the table in the pleasant room, and as they sat, Kincaid thought of Annabelle here, perhaps laughing at something someone said.
    “We’ll get right to the point, Mrs. Lowell. We’ve just had a chat with Reg Mortimer, and he admits that he and Annabelle had a row.”
    Had he imagined the swiftly controlled spasm of tension in Jo Lowell’s mouth? “Are you sure your sister didn’t tell you what the row was about?”
    “No... I... What did Reg say?”
    “That Annabelle was angry because she thought you were flirting with him.”
    For a moment, Jo stared, her mouth open; then she let out a peal of laughter. “Reg said I was flirting with him}”
    “ I take it you don’t agree?” Kincaid asked.
    “In his dreams.” Jo subsided into slightly hysterical snickers. “I bloodied his nose once too often when we were kids, the little sod. I could kill him!” She clapped her hand over her mouth. “I didn’t mean—”
    “I know you didn’t. But could Annabelle have thought there was something going on between you and Reg? He says she was really narked about something.”
    “The bastard. It wasn’t Annabelle who was angry—not in the beginning. He was the one furious with her.”
    “Why didn’t you tell us this before?” Kincaid edged the vase of sunflowers over a bit so that he could see her across the table.
    Jo sat back, sliding her hands into her lap, but not before he’d seen how tightly they were clenched. He was suddenly aware of her perfume, a fresh, grassy scent, and of the rising and falling of her chest in the warm, still room. “You knew all the time what the row was about, didn’t you, Jo? Why didn’t you tell us? And why did Reg lie about it twice?”
    He waited, sensing Gemma beside him, but knowing she wouldn’t break the tension, wouldn’t give Jo