I presumed he meant June. “She had nothing to do with the colonel’s death. I promise you she did not kill him.” I stepped outside and closed the door behind me. “I don’t know what you’ve heard but she’s a very sweet lady and she’s not incompetent.”
He drew back, a perplexed look on his face. “Someone murdered the colonel?”
I’d put my foot in it. “I don’t know that he was murdered. But whatever happened, June wasn’t involved.”
“He’s dead? When did this occur?”
“Last night. I assumed you knew.”
Wolf flipped open his phone.
I motioned for him to come in the house. “You can talk in the living room. I can’t guarantee privacy but it’s your best bet.”
Digging in my pocket for the vial, I followed him and said, “Mochie found . . .”
Wolf held up his forefinger in a gesture that meant “wait a minute,” turned away from me, and spoke into his phone.
I didn’t want to stick around the living room to eavesdrop, but when I retreated to the dining room, I caught Craig ducking into the foyer. I’d had about enough of his creeping around and spying and was about to tell him off but thought better of it. Maybe the poison vial did belong to him.
Pretending I hadn’t seen him, I acted as though I was hiding the vial in the top drawer of the dining room buffet, while actually leaving it safely in my pocket. Hopefully when we were all out to dinner and he thought the house was empty, the killer would feel free to come back to retrieve it. Except I would be waiting.
Mustering courage and a friendly smile, I strode toward the kitchen, feigning surprise when I saw Craig. “Back from your run? Good that you got it in. I think they’re calling for rain this afternoon.”
I continued to the kitchen. What a horrible day.
Craig followed me, plopped into a fireside chair, and Hannah promptly sat on his lap. Why did she turn into a simpering sexpot around him? Yuck.
Mom handed me a lipstick that she must have retrieved from the bathroom upstairs. “Humphrey agreed to meet us at the restaurant. We should invite Wolf, too. Where is he, Sophie?”
“He’s in the living room. He didn’t know about the colonel.”
Francie stiffened. “The detective is here? In the house?” She looked around frantically, jumped up, and lunged toward the kitchen door.
TWENTY-EIGHT
From “THE GOOD LIFE”:
Dear Sophie,
My elderly mother-in-law is moving in with us and we’d like to make her as comfortable as possible. What can we do to make her life in our house easier?
—Worrier in Woodstock
Dear Worrier,
Throw rugs cause a high percentage of falls in the home. Remove them from main walking areas. A grab bar in the bath and shower will make her feel more secure. Round doorknobs and water handles can be difficult for older hands to grasp. Replace them with lever handles for your mother-in-law’s comfort.
—Sophie
But just as Francie gripped the door handle, she suddenly went limp. Luckily Bernie leapt to her aid and caught her before she hit the floor. Then Mom rushed in to fan her and everyone spoke at once.
“Should I call an ambulance?” I asked.
Bernie carried Francie to the bench in the bay window and Mom opened a window panel.
Francie’s entire body slumped. “No ambulance,” she murmured. “I’ll be fine.”
Daisy and MacArthur kept their distance as if they knew she wasn’t well, but Mochie jumped onto the bench and sniffed her.
“Maybe she needs a good, stiff drink,” said Dad.
“What’s going on?” asked Wolf.
I hadn’t noticed him come in.
“I’m afraid the colonel’s death has been too much for her.” Mom wrapped a comforting arm around Francie, who looked like she might be sick.
And then my mom, never one to be deterred for long from thinking about my love life, or lack thereof, proceeded to invite Wolf to join us for dinner. Wolf paused before he said, “Sure. I think it would be very interesting to see the whole group together again.”
Oh, great. Mom had just set up a detective’s dream. He’d be scrutinizing us for clues to the killer. But if my plan worked, the killer would be here. Maybe Nina could help me watch for him. And I should corral the dogs in the sunroom—
“Sophie!” Mom interrupted my thoughts. “Mars and Andrew just drove up. June, would you be a dear and brew Francie a strong cup of tea?”
Trust Mom to keep people occupied. She snagged Dad’s sleeve and pulled him into the foyer. “Bring June some rum for Francie’s tea and make sure June stays in the kitchen.”
Promising to return shortly, Wolf strode out the front door just before Mars and Andrew walked in. June’s sons said hello to her before following Mom and me to the sunroom.
“Sophie, please don’t start arguing,” warned Mars. “We’ve discussed this issue thoroughly and it’s for Mom’s own protection. I know you love her, too. But how would you feel if she started a fire and burned to death?”
“You’re overreacting because of Natasha,” I said. “She’s laying a guilt trip on you to achieve what she wants.”
“I don’t even like Natasha.” Andrew flashed a guilty look at Mars. “Well, I don’t. I’d argue the sun was purple just so I wouldn’t have to agree with her. But the fire at Natasha’s house was huge. We’re not talking about some little flicker in a pan on the stove. Natasha talked to the folks who run the place we’re sending Mom. She won’t have access to an oven. Won’t have to cook at all. She’ll have a nice room and she can take her own furniture.”
I had no doubt that Mars would only allow June to live in a lovely facility. I wasn’t worried about that at all. “But I don’t think she’s ready. You’re pigeonholing her based on one incident. Besides, we don’t even know how the fire started.”
“Now listen here,” said Mom. “I’ve spent the last few days in June’s company and there’s not a reason in the world for you to put her away like she’s some kind of inconvenience.”
Go Mom! I swelled with pride.
“Inga, I don’t want to do this. But don’t you understand? She set fire to Natasha’s house. She’s a danger to herself.”
“That’s baloney,” I said. “Except for the little quirk, she’s fine. She hasn’t fallen or left water running or started a fire here.”
“What quirk?” asked Andrew.
“Andrew,” said Mom in her no-nonsense-mother voice, “couldn’t you and Vicki take her in?”
Andrew winced. “We don’t want her to burn our house. And I don’t think she’d like having a babysitter when we’re out. But what’s this quirk you mentioned?”