As Bernie slid the last plate into the dishwasher, he said, “You’ve been very kind to put me up, Soph. But I suppose I should be shoving off soon. I’d like to stay through the contest tomorrow if that’s okay.”
“Are you going back to London?”
“To tell the truth, I thought I’d make some job inquiries around here.”
It was my chance to ask about Mrs. Pulchinski. “To stay closer to your girlfriend?”
He snapped his head up in surprise. “Something like that.”
Had I alarmed him? Maybe I shouldn’t have asked about the girlfriend. But did he plan to brazenly move in with the widow so soon after her husband’s death?
“Sophie!” Hannah shouted.
Bernie and I rushed to the den. I didn’t really think anything untoward had happened to Hannah, but after all we’d been through lately, I wasn’t taking any chances.
Hannah was viewing an enlarged photograph on the computer screen. “I zeroed in so it’s a little bit fuzzy, but I think we have a major clue.”
The printer whirred as it churned out a page.
“Look here,” she said, pointing. “The guy is reaching with his left hand and you can see his wedding ring with an etched circular design. Do you recognize the ring?”
I didn’t. “Thanks for trying, Hannah.”
“Don’t give up yet. At least we know it’s a man. Those chunky fingers couldn’t possibly belong to a woman. Craig and I will make a point of checking wedding bands when the contest resumes tomorrow. I can pretend I’m looking at them because I don’t know what I want for our wedding bands.”
Her offer startled me. She was still focused on the wedding but this time, it wasn’t in a selfish me-me-me way.
“Thanks, Hannah.”
She tilted her head. “You do realize I’ve been overdoing the wedding bit to distract Mom and Dad. They’re so worried about you. When Craig showed me the newspaper article about the dead PI, we put it together with your lame explanation about how you found Mochie and realized you were in trouble. I’ve been trying to lighten the mood by bringing up the wedding, which is a much cheerier subject.”
I threw my arms around Hannah. “And I thought you couldn’t think of anything but your wedding.”
“Aw, c’mon. I know I’ve been a pill, but Craig and I have been discussing the murders, too. If there’s anything I can do to help you, I will. We can’t quite figure it out, though.”
Sprawling on the unmade sofa bed, Bernie said, “We should lay a trap for him tomorrow.”
“For the killer?” I asked.
“No, for the guy who monkeyed with the ingredients.”
Hannah spun toward him in the desk chair. “Great idea! Sophie can leave her work station and you and Craig and I can be on the lookout.”
Bernie ran with the idea. “You could print little pictures of the ring. Then June and your parents can help as well.”
Emotion welled inside me. I wanted to pull them both into a huge grateful hug but someone called my name.
Bernie sat up. “Is that Francie?”
The three of us returned to the kitchen. Francie sat by the fire like she had this morning, but now she hid her face behind her fingers.
Hannah knelt beside her and asked, “Are you okay? Do you need a doctor?”
I wet a kitchen towel, wrung it out, and offered it to Francie.
She pressed it against her forehead. “I’m never like this, I just can’t believe he’s dead.” Tears squeezed out of her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I only came to pick up my coat.”
“Nonsense. You stay with us for a while.” Hannah stroked Francie’s arm. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
Was it my imagination or did I like my sister a lot better when Craig wasn’t around?
The scratching at the kitchen door alerted me to Daisy’s return. When I opened it, she and MacArthur bounded inside and wedged their noses in Daisy’s water bowl at the same time. Then Mom, Dad, and June entered and clustered around the fireplace. Dad hung up coats while Mom clasped her hands and said, “We’ve had the best idea. June will be leaving tomorrow after the stuffing contest and we’ll be going home the next morning, so we thought we should all get together and go out to dinner tonight.”
Francie let out a little cry.
Mom patted Francie’s hand. “I wish the colonel were here to come with us, but we think it’s a way of honoring him. We should invite everyone who came for Thanksgiving. Sophie, will you call Mars and ask them to come? I’ll call Humphrey.”
Having dinner again with Mars and Natasha, not to mention Humphrey and Wolf, appealed to me about as much as a root canal. But Mom unknowingly handed me exactly what I needed—an empty house. Except it wouldn’t be empty. I would make some kind of last-minute excuse and stay home to spy and see if anyone turned up to retrieve the vial. I embraced her suggestion with enthusiasm.
I could hear Mom giving Francie a little pep talk while I dialed Mars’s cell phone number.
He answered on the first ring and asked, “Is Mom okay?”
“She’s fine. Right here in front of me. Why? Has something happened?”
He took a minute before answering me. “Sophie, I don’t know what to do with her. Natasha is certain that something awful will happen to her if she goes home and stays by herself, and I couldn’t live with that. We’ve been talking about this all morning and I’m afraid . . . Andrew and I don’t have any choice, we’re going to have to put her in a home where they can watch her.”
I bristled at the thought. June would not go to a retirement home until she wanted to go. Even if I had to take her in to live with me. This time Natasha had gone too far. Lowering my voice so June wouldn’t overhear, I wandered into the sunroom with the phone. I told Mars about the dinner plans and insisted he come over immediately to discuss June’s situation.
When I hung up, I found Mom behind me, listening. “Is he on his way?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Run upstairs right now and change into that white sweater I gave you last year. And put on some makeup.”
“Mom, they want to put June into a home for the aged.”
“Because she talks to her sister’s ghost?”
“No, because they think she started the fire at Natasha’s. Mars is afraid something horrible will happen to her if she lives by herself.”
Mom crossed one arm over her abdomen and massaged her chin with the other hand. “Nonsense. We can’t have that. I’ll have a talk with Mars when he arrives.”
The knocker on the front door sounded.
“Too late to change.” Mom reached toward me and fluffed my hair. “You couldn’t have put on a little lipstick? You ought to keep some in the console in the foyer for these emergencies. Natasha does.”
I escaped her and answered the door. It couldn’t possibly be Mars yet anyway.
When I opened the door, Wolf stood on the stoop. “Is Mrs. Winston here?”