The phone rang, finally, and I made a mad dash to answer, fumbling the handset in my haste.

“Kate? That you?” It was Bill. “You sound out of breath. Everything all right?”

I sank down at the kitchen table. “I’m fine, Bill. I was just expecting a call from Claudia’s attorney.”

“Bad Jack, eh. What’s up?”

I felt like wringing my hands, which is a little hard to do when holding a phone, so I opted for a sigh instead. “On his way home from the golf committee last night, Pam’s husband saw Claudia being led off in handcuffs.”

Bill let out a low whistle. “Sorry to hear that. Anything I can do to help?”

“Not at the moment, but thanks for offering.” I knew I could count on Bill. He’d supply a shoulder to lean on, an ear to listen, or lend a handkerchief if need be. Sturdy, dependable, sensible. A true friend. That pretty well summed up Bill Lewis. Of course, he’d never replace Pam as my BFF, but then Pam didn’t inspire the same fluttery feeling in my tummy as Bill did.

“I wanted to let you know my buddy just dropped off Krystal’s car. It’s purring like a kitten.”

Mention of a kitten had me glancing around, half expecting to spot Tang lurking nearby and eavesdropping on my conversation. Of late, I’d seen Krystal coax him into the house. Sneaky little bugger, that cat. One look at me, he’d vanish under Krystal’s bed never to be seen again, at least not by me. My tuna, my house, I wanted to scream at the silly critter. I added “ungrateful” to my list of grievances.

“I know you don’t want to miss BJ’s call, so I won’t keep you. I’ll be happy to drop the car off tonight, provided someone gives me a lift home.”

“No problem,” sayeth Kate McCall, mistress of understatement. “Krystal has rehearsal, but I’d be happy to give you a ride. She’ll be thrilled to get her car back.” And so would I. This meant no more getting up early to drive her to the diner. Selfish, I know, but to me retirement means no more alarm clocks. Even when I was an early riser, I wasn’t an early riser. I’m just not hardwired that way.

“Let me know when you hear something about Claudia. And, Kate…” He paused. “Don’t let yourself get too upset. It can’t be good for you. See you later.”

Aw shucks, Bill sounded worried. I smiled a little at hearing that. It’s been a while since a man fussed over me-not since Jim-and I rather liked the notion. I’d been tempted-almost-to invite him for dinner, to lure him into my man trap with beef stew or chicken pot pie, but I stopped myself in the nick of time. I didn’t want to seem like a pushy broad. There’s nothing more pathetic, to my way of thinking, than a woman who sets her cap for an attractive single man and will stop at nothing to gain his affection. My thoughts circled back to Claudia. Is that what she’d done with Lance? If so, look where her machinations had landed her-free room and board at the county jail.

Another glance at the clock confirmed the electricity was still coursing through wires, conduits, and whatever, although the hands plodded along with painful slowness. Weary of waiting for the phone to ring, I grabbed a light jacket and my purse and headed out the door.

Fifteen minutes later I found myself in BJ Davenport’s office. Aleatha stopped pecking away at her keyboard, and her round dumpling of a face creased into a smile. “Hey, Miz Kate.”

“Morning, Aleatha. Is BJ in by any chance? I need to talk to him.”

“He walked in not more ’n a minute ago.” Maybe I was coming down with a case of acute paranoia, but Aleatha’s smile didn’t seem to beam quite as brightly as before. “Sorry, hon, but he doesn’t want to be disturbed. He’s busy workin’ on a case. You know how it is.”

Maybe I did; maybe I didn’t, but I did know I wasn’t in the mood to be put off. Aleatha sounded as though she’d taken a page from Tammy Lynn Snow’s manual, How to Protect Your Boss from Nosy Women. BJ didn’t want to be disturbed? I’d show her disturbed if it meant calling in reinforcements. And by reinforcements I was referring to the Babes-armed and dangerous and full of attitude.

I planted my feet firmly in front of her desk and folded my arms over my chest. “I’m not leaving until I speak with him.”

Aleatha looked at me long and hard, then chuckled. “Like I always say, girlfriends are like bras. They’re there to give support.” She pointed a fuchsia-painted nail at a closed door. “He’s in his office, but if he asks, tell ’im I was away from my desk. Say I must’ve been on a potty break.”

“Gotcha.” Turning on my heel, I charged into BJ’s office like a locomotive gathering speed.

He never looked up from the papers strewn across his desk. “Dammit, woman! Didn’t I warn you-”

“We need to talk-now.”

This got his attention. It got mine, too, since I’m usually the candidate most in need of an assertiveness-training seminar. “I demand to know what’s going on with Claudia.”

BJ’s ever-present bow tie, a wild affair in bright yellow and orange, was askew, the top button of his shirt undone, and his sleeves rolled to the elbows. He hurriedly ran a hand over his snowy mane and almost tipped over his coffee mug in the process. “Miz Kate,” he apologized, “please excuse my attire. Aleatha failed to inform me of your presence.”

“Aleatha’s in the john,” I stated baldly. “I want some answers, BJ.”

He tossed down his pen and shoved aside the legal pad. From the resigned expression on his pink, wrinkle-free face, I could tell he knew I wasn’t going to budge until I got some answers. “Forgive me, dear lady, where are my manners? Please make yourself comfortable.”

I perched like a sparrow on a clothesline at the edge of the comfy-looking client chair he indicated. “The Babes and I are the closest thing Claudia has to family here in South Carolina. And families stick together… no matter what.”

“True, true. Can’t argue with that logic.” He folded his hands over his rotund belly and stared at me across the cluttered desktop. “’Fraid the news isn’t good, Miz Kate; not good at all.”

My stomach twisted into a knot big enough to hold an ocean liner in port. “Just how bad is it?”

He pursed his lips, studying me for a long moment, sizing me up no doubt to see if I was a fragile flower or a steel magnolia. “The charge against Miz Claudia has been changed.”

“Changed to what?” I heard a fragile-flower quaver in my voice.

“Murder. First degree.”

His words held me spellbound, unable to move, almost unable to think. I needed a moment to process that Claudia stood accused of murder in the first degree.

Eventually I became aware of BJ regarding me strangely. He had a should-I-ring-for-the-smelling-salts look on his face. I stiffened my spine and sat up straighter. I’d become a steel magnolia or die trying. “What happens now?”

“Apparently Sheriff Wiggins convinced the prosecutor that Claudia had a strong motive to kill her husband.”

“First degree?” I echoed. “Isn’t that premeditated?” Cell by cell, the synapses in my brain started firing again. I shuffled through my mental filing system of old Law & Order episodes, wishing I’d taken notes instead of simply watching. Maybe I should learn Microsoft Excel and design a spreadsheet. I’d enter such items as criminal charges, clues, and evidence. I’d be so organized, the FBI would beg to study my method.

BJ continued, his cool gray eyes never wavering from my face. “The fact Bill Lewis and Monica Pulaski both swear the chamber of the Smith and Wesson was empty at the beginning of rehearsal that night means someone-the killer-deliberately and with malice aforethought brought the bullet to the scene and placed it in the weapon. Hence, premeditation.”

I felt heartsick.

“Miz Claudia was rearraigned this morning before Judge Blanchard and a bond hearing was held.”

“So she’s out on bail?”

He shook his head. “Sorry to say that’s not exactly the way things went. Judge Blanchard happens to be, pardon the expression, a hard-ass. Miz Claudia’s bond was revoked. She’ll be a guest of the county until she comes up for trial.”