Kate went over the conversation, while Wayne took notes with one hand and ate with the other. Multitasking. “And she didn’t suspect that Holly hadn’t just up and left?” he said when she was finished. Kate shook her head.

“Apparently not.”

“None of them did,” I added. “We spoke to Lionel Kenefick, too-he was on his way home and stopped to ask what was going on-and he said she always talked about going to Hollywood. Everyone just thought she had.”

Wayne nodded. “I’ll have Brandon…” He stopped, clenched his hand into a frustrated fist, and started over. “I’ll talk to Linda White tomorrow morning. She’s at work. Brandon broke the news to her, but apparently they’re shorthanded or something at the Shamrock, and she had to stay. Or maybe she chose to. Maybe she wanted the distraction. Or maybe it’s not that much of a shock. After four years without a word, she might have expected something like this.”

We nodded.

“If she suspected something,” Derek said, “you’d think she’d have filed a report, though. Or at least talked about it to someone.”

“Denise said Holly had left a note,” I reminded him. “And packed a bag, too. You may want to look into that, Wayne. When everyone thought she left, that made perfect sense, but now that we know she never did, it seems like someone else may have written the note and packed the bag. It wasn’t with her, was it?”

“Not that we found,” Wayne said. “I don’t know if the dog would have marked for it, but Brandon went over the crawlspace with a metal detector, too. We found some change and an old spoon and some other junk like that, but if there had been a bag or suitcase with a zipper or clasps buried down there, I’m sure we would have found it.”

“So even if Holly wrote the note and packed the bag herself, someone else has it now.”

“Or else it’s at the bottom of the sea,” Wayne said. “That’s what I’d do with it. I’ll go talk to Linda White tomorrow, see if I can learn anything more.”

He took another mouthful of stew, signaling that the subject was closed.

“Ricky sure is taking a long time,” Shannon said, with a glance at the door to the hallway.

“He spent a long time in the bathroom on Becklea the other day, too,” I answered. “Maybe he’s got a sensitive stomach.”

“I doubt it. He seems healthy as a horse. Still, maybe one of us should go look for him.” She looked at Josh, who got up. As Wayne had once said, when Shannon told him to jump, it didn’t occur to Josh to ask anything but how high.

I turned to Derek. “Everything’s been so crazy the past couple of days that we haven’t had much time to talk about the house.”

He nodded. “Is it OK for us to go back to work tomorrow, Wayne?”

“I don’t see why not,” Wayne said. “We’re pretty much done with your house, I think. You can start working upstairs, but stay out of the crawlspace for now, if you don’t mind.”

I suppressed a shudder. I didn’t mind at all.

“What about Venetia Rudolph’s house?” Kate wanted to know. Wayne turned to her.

“I’m going to seal it for a day or two, just in case I need to get back in. After that, we’ll release it, and the body, to next of kin. If she didn’t have any family, I guess the house will be auctioned off and the money will go to pay for funeral expenses.”

“Maybe you two should look into buying it,” Kate suggested to Derek and me. I grimaced.

“Another murder scene? I don’t think so. Having to get rid of one stigmatized property is bad enough.”

“Maybe Holly won’t turn out to have been killed in the house,” Shannon said, but Derek shook his head.

“Even so, there are still the Murphys.”

Josh and Ricky came back into the dining room in time to hear this remark, and Ricky’s steps faltered for a second before he continued forward and slid onto the chair across the table from me.

“What did you want to talk about, Avery?” Derek asked, and I turned back to him.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to get distracted.”

“That’s all right. It’s a distracting time.”

“You can say that again. OK.” I took a breath, trying to order my thoughts. “The bathroom.”

“Bathroom?”

“At the house. The master bath.” He peered at me across the table. “Am I right in thinking that you won’t let me get rid of the brown and blue tile? Or paint it?”

“Absolutely right,” Derek nodded. “It’s in perfect condition, a prime example of original detail.”

Kate, who had heard me explain exactly what Derek would say when asked this question, grinned.

“How would you feel about putting a teak dresser in there as a sink base?”

“I guess that would be fine,” Derek said after a moment’s pause. “You’d have to cut a hole in the top to drop the sink in and then close off the top couple of drawers to make room for the plumbing. Do you have a piece of furniture in mind?”

I nodded. “Kate and I saw it in an antique shop on Main Street yesterday. It was nice, wasn’t it, Kate?”

Kate nodded. “Low and kind of long. You may even have enough room for two sinks in the top. For a master bath, a double vanity is a nice touch. Although I thought you were talking about using a vessel sink, Avery?”

“I think I might do that for the other bathroom instead,” I explained. “The master bath is so dark, with the brown and blue tile, especially if I do the grocery-bag wall covering, that I think the fixtures need to be nice and white.”

“Grocery-bag wall covering?” Derek repeated. I explained the process, and how wonderful it would look once it was done. Then I held my breath, waiting for his reaction.

When we first started working together, renovating Aunt Inga’s house, we’d had a few run-ins over my renovation ideas, some of which were too unorthodox for Derek. He’s a restorer at heart, always trying to preserve as much of the original character of a house as possible. Over time, he’d loosened up a little, while I had realized that all my ideas weren’t always appropriate for every house. We’d figured out ways to compromise, and I hoped this would turn out to be one of the times when we’d manage that, because the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of the grocery-bag walls.

“Why don’t you make me a sample,” he said eventually. “On a piece of plywood, or something.”

I smiled. “I can do that. It’ll look great. You’ll see.”

Derek smiled back. “I’m sure it will. Your projects always look great. So tell me more about the teak dresser.”

“It’s in an antique store in downtown. Nickerson’s Antiques. In the window. Kate and I saw it on our way past the other day. I told the owner that I was interested in it, but that I’d have to talk to you about it first. Is it difficult to turn a dresser into a sink base?”

Derek shook his head. “Matter of a few hours work, at most. And a sharp saw. Teak is a hard wood.”

“Sounds good. Maybe we can go talk to him tomorrow morning, before we head out to the house? If you like the dresser, we can put it in the back of the truck and take it with us. And you can give me your opinion of Mr. Nickerson, too.”

“Why would I want to do that?” Derek wanted to know. “Do I have to worry about a rival? One who’s older than my dad?”

Kate giggled, and so did Shannon. I rolled my eyes. “Hardly. I think he was involved with Peggy Murphy.”

“Peggy Murphy?” Wayne repeated. I nodded as all eyes focused on me.

“Cora knew Peggy. Their husbands used to drink together. And she said that a couple of months before the murders, Peggy changed. Took a job, began wearing makeup, seemed happier. Cora thought it was possible that Peggy had met someone else, and that she was planning to leave Brian, and that’s why he killed her.”

“No kidding?” Wayne said. I nodded, but before I could answer, Ricky got to his feet.

“Excuse me.” He headed for the door to the hallway again. But instead of going to the bathroom, he disappeared down the hallway toward the front door. A moment later, we heard it open and close behind him with a bang.