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Nick asked.
    “That he died as the result of a blunt trauma to the head. There was blood on the bottom step of the top landing. The chief said that Ry had apparently hit his head there before going the rest of the way down the steps to the bottom, where you found him.”
    “There was no evidence that he had been struck with anything before he fell?”
    “No. Something caused him to fall backward.” She shook her head. “Someone must have pushed him down the steps.”
    “But there was no sign of a struggle, from what I understand.”
    “No. It’s so strange. I can’t think of anyone he even had a serious disagreement with. I mean, he told me about a group of environmentalists who were hounding him about opening the lighthouse area to tourists during the bird migrations.”
    “Well, they could get pretty intense at times, but I can’t see any one of them becoming violent.”
    “That was my impression too. He did say that some of the bay men were angry with him, they felt that he hadn’t supported their efforts to get the horseshoe crab off the state’s restricted list.”
    “I don’t see any of them taking it this far. In some ways, Ry was one of them.”
    “Couldn’t that have been a motive? Maybe one of them felt he had betrayed them by not taking their part completely.”
    “India, I don’t—”
    “Or Kenny.” She stood up and began to pace. “Maybe it was Kenny. Darla said that he was really upset about her seeing Ry. And he has always had a pretty short fuse when he drinks. And I heard he’s been drinking a lot lately.”
    “Nah. Too obvious.” Nick shook his head. He’d been over all this ground himself a hundred times over the past five days. “And besides, Chief Carpenter has questioned Kenny—and just about everyone else in Devlin’s Light, for that matter—and he has an airtight alibi. He was on an overnight camp-out with his son’s cub scout troop when Ry was killed, India. And for the record, Kenny has been on the wagon for the past five months.”
    “I guess the first thing we have to do is figure out why Ry was there, in the lighthouse, at that hour of the night.”
    “I think Chief Carpenter is still working on that.” Nick thought that now would be a good time to remind India that the Devlin’s Light police department had not closed the book on the investigation.
    “Nick, I know that you discussed all this with the chief, but would you mind walking me through everything that happened that night? What you saw?”
    “Of course not. Where would you like to start?”
    “What time did you first notice that something was going on over there?”
    “Um, maybe around two, two-ten.”
    “And you were where?” Her eyes narrowed as the interrogator in her kicked in.
    Nick sighed. Her eyes took on the fervor of one who was about to begin a crusade. Well, he’d expected it. Anyone who was as adept a prosecutor as Ry had said India was would want to be involved in the investigation.
    Indy had obviously chosen to begin with him.
    “On the deck of the cabin.” He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “I couldn’t sleep. Something woke me up.”
    “Do you remember what it was? A noise? A boat out on the bay, maybe? Or maybe lightning?”
    “No, there was no storm. Actually, it was a very quiet night. I turned in early—right after the eleven o’clock news—and there was nothing, not even a wave on the bay that I can recall.”
    He frowned then, recalling. It had been a moonless night. Totally quiet. All had been still until … until …
    “A bird. Took off across the bay squawking as if someone had stepped on its tail.”
    “And what time was that—did you look?” She raised an eyebrow, and a smile of satisfaction tugged at the corners of her mouth. There had been no mention of a bird squawking in the police report. She knew there had to be more.
    “Yes. It was about one-thirty.”
    “What did you do? Did you get up, turn over, what?”
    “I think I was sort