The Diva Runs Out Of Thyme Part 28

"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?"

Before one of us could answer, someone screamed.

A bloodcurdling scared-to-death scream. Like someone saw a ghost.

A blast of frigid air swept through the house. All four of us jumped up and dashed into the foyer. Francie lay in the doorway, half in and half out. Behind her, June stood frozen, her back to us.

"What happened?" I slid to a stop next to Francie and knelt. Memories of Simon's corpse pounded in my brain as I reached for her wrist. Thankfully, this time I felt a pulse.

Hannah shook my shoulder. "Soph . . ." I ignored her.

"Francie!" I gently patted her cheeks to rouse her.

"SOPHIE!" Hannah shouted.

"Not now, Hannah."

She shook my shoulder and pointed outside. I followed the line of her finger and jerked upright. Waves of shock and relief rendered me momentarily speechless. I blinked hard, my brain not quite making sense out of what I saw.

The colonel marched along the sidewalk, tapping his walking stick, and turned up the walk to my house. "MacArthur's missing!" he yelled. "Have you seen him?"

At the sound of the colonel's voice, MacArthur scrambled over Francie's body and raced to the colonel.

Francie's eyelids fluttered and she gasped, "I thought I saw the colonel."

I leaned over her. "You did. He's alive and well."

"What?" She sat up. She trembled and tears flowed down her weather-beaten face. I clasped her hand, not sure which one of us was shaking harder. A little cheer went up and the gloom that had hung over us all day lifted.

The colonel appeared bewildered by the pats on the back and the hugs he received. I clasped him to me as though it would prove he was alive, while Bernie and Dad helped Francie to her feet. Then Mom herded us all into the kitchen just as a downpour began. On the way I explained to the colonel that we thought he'd died and been carted away by a hea.r.s.e.

Seated by the fire with MacArthur at his feet, the colonel slapped his knee and laughed. "I wasn't dead, but I was in that hea.r.s.e."

Dad raised his eyebrows. "Perhaps you'd better explain."

"It was the oddest thing. In the middle of the night, a call girl arrived on my doorstep. I have no idea why."

June's lips pulled tight. She obviously wasn't buying his story.

"The poor child was half frozen so I asked her to step inside while we tried to figure out what had happened. Don't look at me that way, June," he said. "I'm not in the habit of using that kind of service. Besides, she was far too young for me."

"Did you or did you not order a call girl?" demanded June.

"I did not," said the colonel emphatically. His shoulders squared in military fas.h.i.+on. "She called her, uh, office and there was some confusion about the order. I made the poor girl a cup of tea to warm up. But when she left, she twisted her ankle on the sidewalk. Little wonder, you should have seen her shoes."

We had. Those five-inch heels were an accident waiting to happen. His story sounded authentic so far.

"I didn't know quite what to do. A twisted ankle isn't really worth calling an ambulance for. But while she sat on the front walk, your friend, Humphrey, came along. He offered to deliver her to the emergency room. Humphrey and I helped her to his hea.r.s.e and I thought I'd better go with them. I was afraid she might not have medical insurance and I certainly didn't want her suing me."

June's expression softened. "Did she break her ankle?"

"It's only a sprain, though I understand they can be very painful. A most unsavory boyfriend arrived to pick her up. It was dawn by the time Humphrey brought me home. I went straight to bed and when I awakened, MacArthur had vanished."

"I'm so sorry. We thought you had died and that MacArthur was alone," I said.

"Sophie"-he flashed me an emotional smile-"it's good to know I have such caring neighbors. Thank you for looking out for MacArthur. One mystery solved. But I still don't understand how that young woman got my name. I would never use that sort of business. It's most peculiar."

"She had Sophie's address. If you'd"-June cleared her throat-"placed the order, surely you'd have given the correct address."

"It's almost like someone sent her here on purpose," said Bernie.

I turned very slowly toward Francie, who held a damp cloth to her forehead. She averted her eyes.

Bernie's lips curled into his lopsided grin.

Mom scolded, "Francie, you didn't!"

"I've suffered a huge shock. I don't know what you're talking about." Francie avoided looking at any of us. It was no small feat given that the kitchen was packed.

"Francie?" said the colonel.

"Okay, okay. I ordered the call girl. I wanted to get you back for not being interested in me. You know, a gag. And then I thought I'd killed you."

"You mean he didn't arrange for the tart?" asked June.

"Of course not." Color flooded back to Francie's skin. "He's much too proper for anything like that. I never meant to kill him, just shake him up a little bit. Maybe start some neighborhood rumors to embarra.s.s him."

Funny how life turns out sometimes, I thought. Francie's vengeful little game backfired on her. No wonder she'd been inconsolable. She thought she'd murdered the colonel by sending the tart. I started to giggle and poor Bernie couldn't hold back his amus.e.m.e.nt any longer. It was contagious. In a flash, everyone, even the colonel and Francine Vanderhoosen, laughed and wiped teary eyes.

When we recovered, the colonel asked, "Just one thing. Did I leave a door unlocked? How did you get MacArthur out of my house?"

The color that had returned to Francie's face turned an ugly shade of red.

"A neighbor knew where you hide the key," I said.

My vague answer wasn't lost on the colonel.

He looked straight at Francie when he murmured, "I see."

Just then the knocker banged on the door again. Daisy barked and we all heard the door open and close. Wolf appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of the colonel. "Glad to see you hale and hearty, sir. That explains why we didn't have any record of your demise."

The colonel grinned. "I'm fairly pleased about it myself."

"I didn't expect to find so many of you gathered here," said Wolf. "I came to see Mrs. Winston, but I suspect she won't mind if the rest of you hear what I have to say. The Loudoun County fire chief called me this morning. They know how the blaze at Natasha's home started."

TWENTY-NINE.

From "THE GOOD LIFE": Dear Sophie,

My guests are still hanging around for the weekend after Thanksgiving. I'm itching to start decorating for Christmas, but I don't dare make that kind of mess until my mother-in-law leaves. How do I create a transitional ambiance without a lot of work?

-Eager in Earlysville

Dear Eager,

Think red and amber. It doesn't take a lot to create a cozy winter feel. Look around for wide-mouthed jars in shades of amber and red, drop a votive candle in each and use them on your table or mantel. The amber and red gla.s.s will cast a soft romantic glow. Use similar narrow-necked jars and gla.s.ses by popping in a single branch of berries or pine and place them among the candles. Just be sure they don't get too close to the flames!

-Sophie

"Apparently there were small gla.s.ses of candles on the stairs in the foyer," said Wolf. "It seems they had something flammable tied to them." He shook his head in disbelief. "Stairs are no place for candles. One of them caught fire. It ignited a basket of dry pinecones on the stair landing, basically a basket of kindling. The basket rolled down the back stairs into the kitchen and the blaze spread from there."

Andrew and Mars stared at Wolf, speechless. June rushed Wolf. She hugged him like a long-lost friend and Wolf broke into a grin for the first time in days. Pointing a finger at her sons, June said, "There is nothing wrong with your old mother. Just because I have a few wrinkles and I sag in the wrong places doesn't mean I'm ready for the old folks home. And don't you pretend you weren't planning on that. I'm young enough to see a gentleman friend and enjoy myself and that's what I intend to do. Talking to a ghost doesn't mean a person is a looney tune."

She straightened her shoulders and strode from the room.

Simultaneously, Andrew and Wolf said, "Ghost?"

Their question brought Mars to life. "It's nothing. Wolf, would you mind going over to Andrew's house to tell Natasha about the fire? We'll follow you. Mom should come with us." Mars walked across the kitchen toward Wolf, paused, and turned. "Colonel, perhaps you'd care to join us for lunch? Bernie?"

Hannah jumped up. "It's been fun but we have a little shopping to do . . ."

"Good golly, Hannah. Haven't you seen every bridal store yet?" asked Dad.

"Christmas shopping, Dad."

But we'd forgotten all about Francie. She huddled on the bench, forlorn. Everyone else had someplace to go and something to do. Following the colonel wouldn't be fun for her anymore. Actually, I wasn't sure she deserved much sympathy, but I felt sorry for her anyway. She left my house as though each step zapped her strength.

Within half an hour, everyone scattered for the afternoon. I invented an excuse to stay home because I needed a little time to think through my scheme to reveal the killer and bring Nina up to speed on my plan.

I packed my black burglar-chic outfit, shoes and all, in a duffle bag. With all the commotion, I'd forgotten to give Wolf the poison vial. I withdrew it from my pocket and studied it. The rounded ends or gemstones might have yielded good fingerprints if I hadn't inadvertently messed them up. No one could have worn gloves on Thanksgiving without being noticed. No wonder the killer wanted it back so desperately.

I debated letting Wolf in on my plan to identify the murderer but decided against it. He'd say it wasn't accepted police procedure and would surely throw a monkey wrench into my plans. Tonight had to be the night. Everyone else would be accounted for at the restaurant. An opportunity like this wouldn't come along again.

Using masking tape, I attached the plastic bag containing the poison vial to the underside of a drawer in my nightstand. It wasn't the most original hiding place, but it wouldn't be discovered by snoopy Craig right away, either.

Carrying the duffle bag, I dashed through the rain across the street to Nina's. After filling her in about the colonel, I laid out my proposition for the evening. Naturally, she jumped at the opportunity to help.

After much gnas.h.i.+ng of teeth that she didn't have a widow's walk on top of her house from which she could spy, we decided her best vantage point would be the dormer window in her attic. From there, she could observe anyone entering through my front door or the kitchen door. Only the sunroom entrance would be out of her field of vision. It was a chance we had to take.

I jogged home, adrenaline coursing through my veins already. I had never been a risk taker, but I didn't feel this was too dangerous. Besides, I would have Mars's Taser with me.

One key factor remained to be set up. I needed a spy at the restaurant. Mom or Dad were the obvious choices, but they'd be worried to death the whole time. But there was one other person who shared our parents' spying genes with me. Hannah. Could she be trusted not to say anything to Craig? If he was the killer and she revealed our plans, I'd be putting myself in danger. On the other hand, I needed a spy whom I could trust. And the one thing I knew for sure was that Hannah wasn't the killer.

As soon as she came home, I corralled her in my bedroom, claiming I needed help with my hair. I closed the door and whispered in case nosy Craig was outside listening. "There is something you can do to help me but you have to promise me you won't say anything to Craig. Not a word."

Hannah grinned and held out her pinkie. I hooked mine into hers and squeezed just like we did when we were kids. "I think Mochie found what the killer has been looking for. It's a small vial that Nina and I think could have contained the poison used on Mars." I pulled the drawer out of the nightstand and showed it to her.

She ripped the baggie off the drawer and held it up to examine it. "Looks handmade. Indian or African, maybe?"

"When you go out to dinner tonight, I'm going to make an excuse and stay behind. Nina will be outside watching the doors and I'll be hiding in the living room."

"Cool. What do you want me to do?"

"I need you to call me and tell me who doesn't show for dinner. That way Nina and I will know in advance who the killer is and who to expect."

"I'm in. We'll communicate through cell phones?"

"That's the plan."

"Better give me yours now for a minute so I can set it on vibrate and it won't ring."

I handed my cell to her. "And not a word to Craig?"