"Where are you going?"
"I'm going to have a little talk with the mayor. To inquire about the availability of the sheriff's job."
"Myles!" She set her cup down and rose to follow him.
"Later, dear heart. After this mess is cleared up."
The door clicked shut behind him. Quill slipped off her robe and began to dress.
"Wow, you look fabulous." Dina made a credible attempt at a wolf whistle as Quill came down the stairs into the foyer. "Where'd that sweater come from? And I love the lace at the throat. Medieval. You look medieval." She wriggled her eyebrows. "And happy. Sheriff McHale came down the stairs about ten minutes ago and he looked happy, too." She sighed. "I sure feel better. Sheriff McHale said that of course you didn't stab that creep Dorset when he tried to - you know - that somebody else did it. Stabbed Dorset, I mean."
"Nobody tried to you - know. Especially Dorset."
"But Davy told Kathleen who told me that Dorset tried to... and somebody stabbed him."
"Somebody sure did. But it wasn't me. I. Whatever."
"Well, Sheriff McHale will find out who did it. And who killed Nora Cahill, too. Unless you and Meg find out first, like you've done before. Although, really, all either one of you has to do is ask Tutti. She's going to find out this afternoon, you know."
Quill, who was absolutely famished, stopped on her way to the dining room and turned around. "Which reminds me. What's this about a s‚ance?"
"At one-thirty. Just after lunch."
"I didn't ask when it was. I asked what about it?"
"What about it?"
"Is it Claire's grandmother? Mrs. McIntosh?"
"You mean Tutti? Yep. And Tatiana."
"Tutti and her dog? The dog's psychic, too?"
Dina looked uncertain.
"Who's attending?"
"You mean who's going to be at the..." She quailed at Quill's expression.
Quill reminded herself that Dina was one of the brightest Ph.D. candidates at the limnology department at Cornell University. The fact that she knew far more about freshwater ponds and copepods than real life had stopped astonishing Quill, but it didn't keep her from occasional irritation.
Dina said (meekly enough to make Quill feel badly about her momentary ill temper), "Tutti invited Tatiana, Claire, Mrs. McIntosh - the one that's Claire's mom, that is - Mayor Henry, and that Mr. Blight."
"Evan Blight? I didn't have him listed for check in until this afternoon."
"Well, he showed up this morning. Said he'd been out all night under the hunter's moon and wanted the amenities of a civilized existence before he returned to the primitive glory of the woods... that's what he said, Quill, honest to God."
"It's not what he said, it's about where he was. Out all night? Where?"
"In the Gorge. Mayor Henry picked him up at the Ithaca airport, I guess, and they went off for one of those S. O. A. P. meetings. Anyhow, when the mayor brought him in this morning, I told him that you were in jail for murder and that's why you couldn't meet him yourself." She smiled sunnily. "I remembered what you told all us employees about being meticulously courteous to guests, and being in jail was a pretty dam good reason you couldn't meet him."
"I suppose it was," said Quill. She reflected briefly on the fact that she'd spent the best part of the previous night in the cold embrace of a corpse, survived with seeming equanimity the unexpected (and emotionally cataclysmic) return of her lover, and that it was twenty-four-year-old Dina Muir who was going to drive her to hysterics. "And after you'd welcomed a best-selling writer with the news that his host was in the slam for murder one, what did he do? I mean other than ask about the availability of rooms at the Marriott?"
"He had a reservation here. John made it himself. Well, he walked in with Mayor Henry and, Quill, you know me, I'm not one to gossip, because gossip is tacky, but my goodness, they smelled!"
"They smelled? Like what?"
"Like... like... I don't... dirt."
"They smelled like dirt?"
"Yep. And the mayor looked like he hadn't shaved since the elections, and of course Mr. Blight has that ratty-sorry-that long beard, and there were all kinds of twigs in it."
"Dina. I'm starving. I want my breakfast."
"You want me to hurry up," Dina said wisely. "So they came in smelling like - you know - and Tutti was bombing around waiting for that icky Claire to come downstairs for breakfast, and Tutti started prophesying the minute she saw Evan Blight. He said she - Tutti, I mean - had the spirit of the ancient wise women, and like that. He was very impressed." She added with a slight tone of injury, "I mean, you and Meg dismiss things you can't hear or touch or see awfully easily, Quill, if you don't mind my saying so. So she got him to come to the s‚ance."
"What did she proph - never mind. I don't think I want to know. Where is this s‚ance going to be held?"
"The Proven‡al suite. Where Tutti's staying. Quill?"
"What."
"Could I? I mean, I definitely, absolutely did NOT ask Tutti to invite me, but I did say that I was pretty good at taking care of little dogs."
"You mean you want to go to the s‚ance?" Quill thought about this. Prone to breathless exaggeration as she was, there was always a strong foundation of truth to Dina's stories. And if Evan Blight and the men of S. O. A. P. had been rattling around the woods last night, she wanted details. Even details from Beyond.
"Sure. I don't mind if you take the time. Ask Kathleen if she'll cover the desk for you."
"Great. Look. You have a good breakfast."
"Thanks."
Quill walked through the foyer and into the dining room.
At nine o'clock on a Thursday morning in December, the Inn had very few breakfast guests. She hadn't been expecting Claire McIntosh (who normally rose around eleven), or Elaine (who never seemed to sleep at all, but roamed the halls in agitated fits), or Al Santini, but she wasn't surprised to see them at the table overlooking the Gorge. Vittorio sat with them, looking ill-tempered.
She was surprised to see Marge Schmidt and Betty Hall. Their Hemlock Hometown Diner did a brisk business in the mornings, beginning with the dairy farmers who came in after milking at six a.m., and ending with the early coffee breaks at ten-thirty of the business people on Main Street. Quill wondered who was covering the shop for them, then figured Marge had probably left out the coffee urn, cups, some of Betty's fry cakes, and a coffee can for cash.
Marge waved her over. Quill, whose stomach was now positively demanding breakfast, gave a cheerful wave in response and kept on going toward the kitchen. Marge placed two fingers between her lips and whistled, then pointed to the empty chair at their table.
Senator Santini jumped and looked nervously over his shoulder. Claire sent a sullen glare in Marge and Betty's direction. Elaine twisted her napkin into a tortured shape then dropped it on the floor. Vittorio shoveled Gruyere scrambled eggs into his mouth and didn't react at all.
Kathleen came bounding through the swinging doors from the kitchen, and Quill stopped her with a gesture. "Could you bring me some breakfast? I'll be at table five with Marge and Betty."