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My phone vibrated again. I couldn’t answer. It would have to wait.

The key wasn’t in the drawer and I couldn’t recall Bernie handing it back to me. Wasn’t that the night he came home so late? I heard a thunk and jumped. My breathing sounded raspy in the still house. I scuttled back to the den to wait for Bernie. Positioned in a crouch near the door to the living room again, I flipped open the phone and called Nina.

“He’s in the house!” she screamed.

She had to mean Bernie. But where was he? “What did you see?”

“Either he used a key or he’s really good at picking locks. He went in through the front door. Glanced around a little like he was checking to be sure no one saw him.”

“It’s Bernie,” I whispered.

“Wait . . .”

I could hear rustling sounds and assumed she needed both hands for the binoculars. “There’s someone else. He’s going in through the kitchen door.”

Something soft brushed my knee and I stifled a squeal. Mochie purred loudly at my feet.

“I have to call Hannah!” I hung up and dialed Hannah’s number. “Who’s missing?”

“Sophie!” she said in a conversational tone. “Are you coming soon? Almost everyone is here now. We’re still waiting for Bernie and Humphrey. Vicki isn’t here yet, either, but she’s coming. Andrew says she promised to bring meringues to her office tomorrow and she’s waiting for them to finish baking so she can take them out of the oven.”

“Okay, thanks.” I flipped the phone shut. Humphrey. I never would have thought it. But if Humphrey was the killer, why was Bernie here? My head throbbed. My hands were clammy. My breath sounded like a winded elephant. I forced myself to breath shallowly. I couldn’t. I would pass out.

Okay, Sophie. Slow, deep breaths. Stay alert.

The phone vibrated. I flipped it open, wishing the LED wasn’t so darned bright. I covered it with one of Bernie’s shirts.

“It’s the darndest thing,” said Nina. “Now somebody’s watching your house from a parked car.”

I heard something in the living room. “Hang on, Nina,” I whispered. The person was making no effort whatsoever to hide his presence. I leaned forward and peeped. The beam from headlights of a car driving by flashed through the living room for a moment. Long enough for me to see Mochie jump to the top of the grandfather clock.

Where were the two people Nina had seen entering the house? I recognized the squeal of the drawer in the foyer console. Bernie. He must be putting the key back.

Or was the killer looking for the poison vial?

Nina’s voice screeched on the phone. I held it to my ear.

“Somebody’s running to your house. He’s going for the kitchen door. Having trouble opening it.”

Three people? How was that possible? Did Hannah say Wolf was there? I couldn’t remember. I hoped Wolf was the person in the car because I would need him if there were three killers. I couldn’t defend myself against three people with one lousy Taser.

The Taser. I felt around on the floor. No Taser. I must have left it on the console in the foyer. And now I had to face three people. My hands shook at the thought.

Who could they be? I had to call Hannah. This wasn’t working the way I’d planned at all.

Mochie mewed and a light flashed in the living room. I snapped the phone shut. I couldn’t call Hannah now. I gulped for air. What had Hannah said? Bernie and Humphrey weren’t there. Had she mentioned Wolf? Think, Sophie, think! Vicki would be on her way as soon as she took meringues out of the oven.

Vicki. Meringues should be left in the oven to cool. They baked on a low heat to dry out and were supposed to stay in the closed oven with the heat off for at least two hours. Especially on a rainy day like this.

Moving as silently as possible, I kneeled by the cracked door. The intruder shone a flashlight in the silver drawer of my buffet.

Footsteps slammed through the house accompanied by hoarse, hacking breaths.

The flashlight turned off.

A single gunshot echoed.

Heavy feet staggered in my direction. It took every ounce of fortitude not to slam the door and run. I was safer if no one knew I was there.

A terrific thud resounded and shook the old house so hard I could feel the tremor under my knees.

“Vicki?” A man’s voice, scared and small.

“Nooooo!”

The high-pitched scream melded with the sound of someone running into the living room.

A flashlight flickered on Vicki, who hovered over Andrew sprawled on his back.

But who held the flashlight? Wolf? I squinted to see better, but it didn’t help.

“Why is it that you make a mess of everything? You couldn’t just come in this house, find the poison bottle, and leave? Why am I always cleaning up after you?”

The man’s voice sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

Somebody sniffled. Vicki?

“You’re not even supposed to be here! And neither are you, Andrew,” she wailed. “I didn’t mean to shoot you. I thought you were Sophie or Wolf. And now you’re bleeding . . .”

“You poisoned Mars?” Andrew sounded remarkably calm for someone who’d been shot. “But why?”

“You’re such a dolt, Andrew,” said the other man. “She was supposed to poison Natasha, but, as usual, little Vicki couldn’t get the simplest thing right and she poisoned Mars instead. I thought she’d outgrown that, but it’s just like when we were kids.”

“That’s not true,” protested Vicki. “I don’t mess up everything.”

“Really? I suppose you thought it through before you whacked Simon over the head?” He walked to the buffet and shone the flashlight on it. The drawer complained when he jerked it open. “Thanks to you, I’m unemployed. Today is another perfect example. Instead of finding the poison container, you’ve shot your husband and I’m going to have to clean up after you. Again.”

“You . . . you killed Simon? Why did you want to kill Natasha?” Andrew’s voice had grown weaker.

Had he already lost too much blood? I wavered. If I went to his aid, they’d kill me. Where was Wolf?

I inched back, praying the floorboards wouldn’t creak. Holding the cell phone under my sweater to dim the light, I pressed 911.

The operator answered too loudly. I looked up, afraid I’d given myself away, but Vicki’s sobbing must have covered the operator’s voice.

Whispering as loud as I dared, I said the address and “shooting.”

“I can’t hear you. You have to speak up.”

I tried again. “Send ambulance.”

“I can’t hear you,” she shouted.

I flipped the phone shut immediately and hoped Nina had the good sense to call the cops.