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day. Thanks for making us a little snack, Darby. I’m not sure how much I can eat, but that omelet looks delicious.”
    “Eat what you can, Helen. My feelings won’t be hurt. I’m sure you must be exhausted.”
    “I am. I can’t believe it’s only nine o’clock.” She lifted her glass and took a sip. “I hate to say it, but it feels good to be away from Casa Cameron. I’ll go back in the morning, but I did need a break.”
    “What’s the latest on Jack’s condition? “
    “Stable. You found him just in time.”
    Darby took a bite of the fluffy egg dish and chewed thoughtfully. After locating the unconscious Jack Cameron on the fly bridge, she and Alexandra had alerted the others and called an ambulance. At the hospital, the emergency room technicians had pumped his stomach in an attempt to rid his body of the bottle of sleeping pills he’d swallowed earlier.
    “Do you think Jack’s overdose was intentional?”
    Helen ran a hand through her short silver hair. “I do. I know Mitzi would never admit it, but that man has real mental problems. Kyle didn’t cause them, but when she left it made things worse. I think Jack always thought they’d get back together, even after two years of living apart. Now that she’s dead …”
    “He has to find another reason to go on living.”
    Helen shrugged. “Something like that.” She let out a big sigh and shook her head. “I love my friend Mitzi, God knows I do, and I never had children of my own, so maybe I shouldn’t pass judgment. But I’ll tell you what, that is one screwed up family.”
    “You’ve known them for years.”
    “Forever! Mitzi and I go way back. We were just kids in Miami when we became best friends.”
    “How did you meet?”
    “We met at a city waterskiing competition. We were twelve or thirteen, I think, and both pretty good. Well, I was pretty good, Mitzi was very good.” She smiled. “She was a looker even then, and that didn’t hurt with the judges.”
    “Waterskiing. I thought golf was your big sport?”
    “It is, now. But back then I lived to get out on the water and strap on my slalom ski.”
    Darby pictured Helen as a teen, cutting her way through the water on one ski. “Did you do tricks, too?”
    “Of course! All kinds of things. It was such fun. I’ll show you some old photos later.”
    “I’d love to see them.” She took a sip of the Chardonnay, the taste clean and with a hint of oak, curious about Mitzi’s family and their Miami roots. “What made Mitzi’s family move to this coast?”
    “Her father and his brother had some kind of huge fight. Mitzi was seventeen, just graduating from high school. The next thing you know, her Dad had sold their house and brought the family to Sarasota. This was in the ’50s, probably 1954 or so. Quite a change, especially for a Cuban family, but Juan Carlos Rios was a stubborn man. He owned several companies that made air conditioning systems, and he just transferred the whole operation closer to the Gulf.”
    “Rios is Mitzi’s family name?”
    “That’s right. Her full name is Maria Magdalena Rios Cameron. Her parents called her Maria Magdalena, but to me she’s always been ‘Mitzi.’ I think she saw it in the movies or something.” Helen smiled at the memory.
    “How did she meet her husband?”
    “I can’t remember. It was a few years after she’d moved. I was still in Miami, but we saw each other as much as we could. I remember she called, all excited, said she had met a dashing and wealthy man and that they were engaged. I met John Cameron once before the wedding. I was not impressed.”
    “Why not?”
    “I thought he was a phony.” Helen took a drink of her wine. “That Chardonnay’s not bad, is it?” She set down her glass and continued. “John has everyone believing he’s a smart, rich guy when he’s nothing of the kind. He’s one of those superficial, charming sorts of fellows. I think Kyle saw right through him, too.”
    “What makes you say