Wilmington, NC 04 - Murder At Wrightsville Beach

stroked Kelly's hair. She looked just like Kelly, looked like her older sister, always had, looked very young for an almost sixty-year-old.
    "It's my fault you were put in such a dangerous situation, Ashley. I'm so sorry. I never thought it would come to this," she murmured and I didn't know what she was talking about.
    "We had no way of knowing they would send someone from the Judge Advocate General's staff down here," Ted said. "They didn't tell us what they were doing about the investigation."
    "Judge Advocate General? Investigation?" I asked, confused.
    Melanie couldn't restrain herself. "It was Devin. You won't believe it. Devin was a captain in the Army, a lawyer on the Judge Advocate General's staff. He was here doing some investigative work for them. That's why he behaved so strangely! He was trying to throw us off."
    "No!" I exclaimed. "I suspected his drowning wasn't an accident. J.C. killed him too. But why?"
    Mickey wheeled in the bar cart, used his left hand to pass out gin and tonics to everyone but me. His right hand was bandaged. He looked angry, but then that seemed to be his habitual expression. "I told you Devin was different," he said resentfully. "I told you he was too good for his own good. Now you know what I meant. And now you know why I helped J.C. off the pier when we had that scuffle. I shoved just a little too hard. I don't regret it."
    I thought of sweet, kindly Valentine Russo. I didn't regret it either. But Devin? A lawyer? "Would someone please explain this to me? But first, Mickey, how did you find the map?"
    Melanie interrupted. "You can thank Spunky for that. He heard noises and woke me, that smart little cat. Tapped my face with his paw until I awoke. Remembering how you said someone had been in your room the other night, I sent Mickey to investigate."
    "And I found you gone," Mickey said, "and the sliding glass door to the deck was open. Then I saw the arrow you'd marked on the map and that really piqued my curiosity since that was where Devin had fallen. I hurried up the beach and saw you out there on the pier."
    "Well, thank you, Mickey, you saved our lives."
    "You are welcome, Ashley," he replied formally, "and I'm glad I could help you out but the truth is I was motivated by revenge."
    "I can understand that," I said. "Okay, would someone please explain about Devin being a lawyer. "
    Ted began, "Babe and I contacted the JAG after we put two and two together. It never occurred to us that anyone here would be in danger. And they didn't confide in us about how they were conducting the case." He raised an open palm. "We knew nothing about Devin's role in any of this, Mickey, I swear."
    "Nobody did," Mickey said, sitting down beside Melanie and taking her hand in his. "Not even me. I thought he was on vacation just like the rest of you thought. Sure I knew he handled investigations for the JAG but like I say I thought he was on vacation."
    "But what was his role?" I asked. "Are you saying the JAG for the US Army was investigating the theft of J.C.'s painting? Why would they be interested in that?"
    "Shush," Melanie said, "give them a chance to explain."
    "They weren't interested in J.C.'s painting!" Ted declared.
    "Weren't ..."
    "Let me begin at the beginning," Babe said. "Ted and I have had a lot of time on airplanes to piece this all together. The paintings were the clue, you see, including the clue to my origins. My mother was never in love with a serviceman who was killed in action, the way they said. That was just the story my family told to save face. My mother was in love with a POW who worked on her family's farm. I'm his daughter. I've got proof."
    "What is it?" I asked.
    "On our last trip here in the spring, I decided to clear out Grandpa Joe's personal papers and I found some letters."
    Kelly interrupted. "They had been in the boxes we took to your house for safekeeping, Ashley. Only Mom had already removed the letters."
    Babe continued, "The Schroeder family in Germany had corresponded with Grandpa Joe for years after the war. They were searching for their son who had been one of the POWs who worked on our family farm. Their son never returned home after the war when the rest of the German soldiers did. They included the last photo they had of him, a young man of about twenty. Well, I look just like him. Ted saw the resemblance at once.
    "So I started writing to his family members who were left. Then Ted and I made the journey to Düsseldorf to see them. I met my