Cherry, their twenty-five pound Chihuahua, stood by his side. She looked like a scuba tank with legs.

He led her through the mirrored foyer and into the living room.

“Here,” Skye said. “I thought maybe you and Aunt Mona would enjoy this.” She handed him a bottle of wine.

“Thank you. I’ll put it away for a special occasion.” Neal walked out a door opposite the one they had come through.

Cherry stood and stared at Skye. She ignored the animal, having had her fingers nipped by the dog once before. Instead Skye gazed at the lavish decor. The room was done in brocade and velvet, punctuated with gleaming oak tables, stunning floral arrangements, and a selection of beautifully framed art.

Skye peered inside an imposing curio cabinet in a corner next to the windows. Nestled behind the most immense assembly of crystal and porcelain figurines this side of Marshall Field’s, she noticed a bit of black leather.

Skye had her nose pressed to the glass trying to get a better view when Mona and Neal entered.

Her aunt’s smile tightened. “Is there something of my collection I could show you, Skye?”

Skye allowed herself to be guided to a seat on the sofa. “No, just admiring the whole effect.”

“Thank you. Would you care for something to drink? Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.” Mona perched on the edge of a wing chair facing Skye.

“No, thank you.”

The ticking of the grandfather clock marked off the seconds as the trio sat looking at each other. Skye searched for something to say.

Mona finally spoke. “We saw you at Mass yesterday. Why didn’t you go to communion?”

Skye felt her face turn red and she opened her mouth, but at first no words came out. “You know, Aunt Mona, that’s a pretty personal question.”

“It is the duty of family to monitor the spiritual well-being of its young,” Mona said, as if reciting something she’d memorized.

“I appreciate your concern,” Skye managed to say through gritted teeth.

“Father Burns has confession on Tuesdays and Saturdays. Tomorrow it’s from nine to ten,” Mona said. “You should go.”

“Maybe I will. Thank you for the information.” Skye wondered how soon she could gracefully leave.

The sound of an oven timer allowed them to retreat to their neutral corners.

Neal looked at Mona and frowned. “Are you going to do something about that?”

Mona jumped up. “Sorry, dear. Dinner is ready.”

Conversation around the table did not improve. As Skye’s impatience grew, her discretion decreased.

When dessert was served, Skye asked, “Aunt Mona, do you remember going away with Aunt Minnie when you were in high school?”

“No.” Mona arched an eyebrow. “What was the occasion?”

“Aunt Minnie wasn’t feeling well and needed a rest.” Skye looked Mona in the eye. “A nurse from Chicago came and got you and took you somewhere.”

“Out of respect for your Aunt Minnie we won’t talk about that.” A tic was visible under Mona’s eye. “I hope you aren’t going to drag all of that out.”

Neal pushed a little away from the table and crossed his legs. “I don’t remember you ever telling me about that trip, darling. Something I should know?”

“It was nothing. Just one of Minnie’s spells. My parents panicked.” Mona rose from the table.

Skye also got to her feet. “Thank you for dinner.” She moved to the foyer. “Sorry to eat and run, but I just remembered. I left the iron on.”

When Skye looked back, Neal was shaking his finger at Mona, while the older woman stared at Skye.

It was a relief when the alarm clock rang. Skye had barely dozed all night. Every time she had managed to quit thinking of Simon, Wally’s anger popped into her mind. And when she finally forced herself to stop agonizing over the men who weren’t in her life anymore she thought of Miss Prynn. She wondered if the police had taken her anonymous call seriously, or if they’d blown it off and marked the nurse’s death as arising from natural causes. Or worse, was there an APB out with her description?

After removing Bingo from her stomach, Skye dragged herself into the shower, hoping the water would clear her mind. She pulled on a pair of denim shorts, a white T-shirt, and tennies, then went to feed Bingo. She had heard his yowls through both the closed shower and bathroom doors.

The weather matched her mood. Dark clouds rolled past, releasing sheets of rain. Occasional bangs of thunder and jolts of lightning enlivened the morning.

Skye barely choked down her toast, and could feel a headache starting to form behind her temples. She lay down on the couch.

Now that she knew that Hap Doozier was behind all the pranks, she could clear them from her mind. She was sure she had enough clues to her grandmother’s murderer, if only she could put them together in the right way. She closed her eyes and visualized a list of her relatives. Dante was a lousy farmer who liked to spend cash he didn’t have, and had been in charge of his mother’s money for a long time with no one checking up on him. He would gain little, and actually lose control of the trust, by killing Antonia.

Hugo had met with a housing developer, and his wife claimed she had a job with this same developer. He and his wife spent money like it came free in the mail. But they had no way to get at the Leofanti land except through Dante, who wasn’t selling.

Mona? She was a sanctimonious witch, at her husband’s beck and call, and so self-centered she would do anything if she thought it was in her own best interest. How would killing Antonia profit Mona?

Minnie was a prime suspect if she had really tried to kill herself. But her motive was pretty weak. If she was tired of caring for her mother, she could have stopped. No one had held a gun to her head. And if Miss Prynn was murdered by the same person, it couldn’t be Minnie.

The twins seemed to be short of money and they were disappointed with their inheritance. Nothing there to kill about.

Skye drifted between sleep and wakefulness. The twins might not be happy with what they had inherited, but Skye had gotten the table she wanted. She could still see it under the big window at the farm. Sighing, she turned on her side. Wait a minute. There was something odd under that window last time she was in the house. What was it? A brown mark on the freshly painted wall. What did that mean?

Skye had placed the table in her own cottage a few feet from her sofa. She got up to examine it more closely, kneeling to look underneath it. She ran her hands along the legs and studied the surface. Okay, this table was always under that window. How could it have made that mark on the wall? She remembered when Vince had picked it up to carry it out to her car. He hadn’t knocked it against the plaster.

She sat on the floor and rested the back of her neck on the table’s edge. Her head slipped farther backward. She straightened and turned around. The top of the table was slightly askew. Pushing the rim with her palm, she was able to nudge the top into a twenty-five degree angle from the base.

A small orifice was revealed. Skye slipped her hand into the hole. At first all she felt was the grain of the wood, but her fingertips soon closed upon something smooth.

As the object came into view she could see that it was an envelope. The stationery was pink and smelled of her grandmother’s lavender sachet. Skye slid out a single sheet. Her grandmother’s faint handwriting filled the page.

It was addressed to Annamaria Boggio, Antonia’s sister, but the stamp had never been canceled.

Dear Annamaria, Today has been the worst day of my life. Once again I have been weak and allowed Angelo to overrule me. Will my daughter ever forgive me? Her look of panic when we told her she had to go away will remain with me always. She was not comforted by her sister’s presence as I had hoped. The nurse he hired to do the wicked deed and take care of her afterwards seems passable, but she has no warmth and makes it clear she does what she does for money. I hear Angelo’s key in the lock. I will have to mail this when he is not around as he has forbidden me to write of this matter. Please pray for your niece as her father forces her to get rid of her child. Your loving sister, Antonia