“How did he get Eastman out of the house?"
“He lurked in the backyard in the dark until Eastman came outside to smoke a cigar. Apparently he'd seen him do it before out in front and figured if he waited long enough, he'd catch up with him and ask about the construction of the compost heap. And the ploy worked. Eastman was a large man, but not a strong one. Arnie worked hard all his life and went to the gym every other day to keep fit after he retired. It must have been easy for him to overpower Eastman."
“This makes me so sad. I hate to think of that poor old man having to undergo a trial.”
Mel took her hand and was quiet for a long moment. "He won't have to do that. He had a stroke an hour ago and died before they got him to the hospital.”
Jane was shocked. "It was my fault."
“No, it wasn't. We'd found some fibers on Eastman's clothes and the rough wood the compost bin was made of that weren't from anything in his own wardrobe at his Chicago home or his home upstate. Nor were they from anything the house‑ keeper's son had. They were distinct enough to identify easily as soon as we narrowed the field of suspects. He'd have been found out eventually."
“I'm sorry I snooped this time. I wish I'd never signed up for the class or let my mind dwell on things that were none of my business."
“Murders need to be solved, Janey. No matter how the information comes about. The family and friends of victims need to know how and why it happened. It doesn't bring their loved ones back, but it helps settle their minds. And the only person in the world who contributed to Arnie's crimes was Arnie himself."
“You're just saying that to make me feel better." "No, I'm not. It's part of what I do for a living. I understand how you feel, but you're wrong to blame yourself in any way. Arnie was very de‑ voted to his wife, but he turned that devotion into evil acts that were entirely his own responsibility.”
Sunday afternoon Katie made the same cake again. Mike came home about five o'clock all sweaty and dirty. "I put in some overtime today moving around a load of cow manure. I had Black Forest cake with Kipsy the other night. It was excellent, but not as good as the one Katie made. I guess I'll stick around tonight."
“No date with Kipsy?" Jane said with hope in her voice.
Mike grinned. "It's none of your business, you know. But no."
“Have you fallen out with her?"
“I never fell in with her. Dating for a couple nights was her idea and it worked like she said it would. I've got to get a shower before dinner.”
Jane trailed him upstairs. "Explain!" she demanded.
He was laughing at her as he sat down on the top step. "See, Kipsy had this theory. When guys of her type, the rebellious ones, see her out with a boring, clean-cut, straight-arrow guy like me, they can't understand it and want to bring her back into the fold."
“Oh, yeah?" Jane said. Where was this leading?
“And when cheerleader types of girls see a guy like me with a freaky-looking girl, they want to save me from her. So Kipsy said. So we tried it out for a couple nights in a row. Went to places where there were both kinds of people. And it worked. I've been 'redeemed' by a gorgeous blonde and Kipsy met a biker she likes.”
Jane stared at him. "That's the most cynical thing I've ever heard. Aren't you ashamed of yourself?"
“Nope. It worked. I've got a date tomorrow with the blonde. Sandra. You'll like her. It's her natural color and everything. And she's nice and funny as well. I stink of cow manure, I've got to shower."
“I guess I'm glad the threat of Kipsy as a potential daughter-in-law has passed.”
Mike got up in a swirl of cow smell and patted her head. "You worry too much, Mom. Don't touch that crutch until I'm out of the danger zone.”