Annie didn’t open her eyes. She didn’t need to. “How did you find me?” “Dear Ms. Laurance, always so direct. I arrived on the ten-thirty ferry. Since there is only one ferry on Sunday morning, I was forced to count fiddler crabs while waiting. Fascinating creatures. When I reached your snug little island, I immediately rented a condo near the harbor and began my quest. I will confess I was surprised to find that the proprietress of Death On Demand is so slothful that she doesn’t open on Sundays, but I recalled that said proprietress is tiringly vigorous and deduced that she would probably be found on the beach, either jogging or swimming. How disappointed I am to find her stretched out on a beach towel with her face covered by the latest issue of Vogue.” Annie yanked the magazine aside, opened one eye, and squinted. “I just ran three miles on the beach. How did you know it was me?” “As has been said in perhaps another context, I would know that body anywhere.” She opened both eyes and laughed.
