Dad’s quick intake of breath indicated that Seth had wounded him with that remark.

“No offense,” Seth said and held up both hands.

“I would prefer not to be compared to that person,” Dad said stiffly.

“What’s the matter, dear?” Mom put her plate on the table across from Dad. “You look like you don’t feel well.”

Seth snickered and I put my hand on Dad’s back. “Dad’s still worked up over the generator,” I said.

“Not that again, Frank.” Mom sat and opened her napkin. “That poor man is doing his best. Not everyone can fix machinery the way you can.”

Dad seemed mollified at this and went back to his meal.

The conversation had started me thinking again. There were plenty of suspects and I was wondering how to narrow the list without tipping off Vi, when Mac and Lucille walked in.

He caught my eye and gave me a half smile. I knew that was his first attempt at an apology.

Vi breezed in and skipped the line to rush over to our table. “Have you told them?” she asked me.

I started shaking my head the moment she approached. I didn’t want everyone knowing about our bargain, especially Mac, who I knew was only a few minutes away from joining us. I narrowed my eyes at her and tried as hard as I could to send her a message to keep quiet.

“Told us what?” Mom said.

“Um.” Vi hesitated. “Wally said there’s another storm due in this afternoon.”

Dad groaned and Mavis and Selma, who sat at the table next to us, joined in.

“When will we ever get out of here?” Mavis said.

Vi winked at me and turned her attention to Mavis.

“He says we’re looking at another six inches tonight. Kirk barely has the front walk cleared—I don’t know when we’ll be able to get out,” Vi said with more authority, and not sounding nearly as disappointed as the rest of us at this news.

“At least we have power and the phones are working again,” Selma said.

“And we have plenty of yarn,” Mom added. “In some ways this is like a knitter’s dream. Our real lives have to be put on hold and all we can do is knit. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wished for a few days away from my real life. . . .”

“I’m sure the dead lady would disagree,” Seth said in my ear.

“Rose is right,” Vi said. “This is an opportunity—we are in a beautiful haunted castle in the middle of a winter wonderland, where we’re required to enjoy knitting.”

“Maybe Rose can get her tarot to tell us how long we’re going to be stuck here,” Lucille said as she joined us. She had obviously been listening while she visited the buffet.

Mac followed his mother and glanced around the table. The closest he could get was across the table and two seats down from me. His lips were a thin line and I knew the buffer of the rest of our group irritated him.

As soon as Seth finished his sandwich and pushed his plate away, I shoved my chair back and grabbed Seth’s elbow.

“See you all in a while!” I said. “We have to go walk the dogs.”

I hustled Seth out of the dining room. He balked as we passed the fresh tray of homemade macaroni and cheese. I felt slightly guilty since René had likely made it with Seth in mind.

“I wasn’t finished, Clyde,” Seth said, shaking my hand off his arm.

“You made three trips to the buffet,” I said. “I’m sure you can survive until dinner.”

“What’s the rush, anyway?” He rubbed his arm where I had gripped him as if he’d been mortally wounded.

“I have to talk to you.” I gestured down the hallway toward the front desk. It tended to be less crowded than the lounge since there was no fireplace and only a view of the piles of snow. The beauty of the snowcapped trees had lost its charm.

I led him to the couch that faced the desk and the hallway so I could be sure we wouldn’t be overheard.

“I’ve done something really stupid,” I said.

Seth cocked his head and settled back in the couch, a smile beginning on his lips.

“Don’t look so amused,” I said. “Vi could drive anyone to madness.”

Seth leaned forward and sighed. “What now?”

“I made a deal with her that if she figures out the mystery before I do, I will go into business with her.” I put my head in my hands, not wanting to see Seth’s reaction.

“You what?” Seth said.

I didn’t have to look at him to know his eyes were wide and his mouth hung open.

“You’ve been fighting them off for years,” he said. “And now you’re just going to give in? Is it because you’ve learned stuff from Ms. Whittle and you want to test it out?”

“No, not a psychic business,” I said. “She wants to open a detective agency.”

“Oh, now that would be cool,” Seth said.

“What?” I said.

“You’re really good at solving mysteries.” Seth ticked his points off on his fingers. “You definitely have some kind of sixth sense, and it might keep Aunt Vi busy.”

I shook my head. “No, no, no. You don’t get it. Can you imagine the trouble I’ll deal with if I have to babysit Vi through ‘cases’ and keep Mac from killing us both? It will never work.”

“So, why did you agree?”

I stood up and walked to the window. “I don’t know. I was mad at Mac, and Vi was pressuring me with her theories and I just . . . didn’t think it through.”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Seth said. “Vi isn’t likely to win the bet and even if she does, you can wriggle out of it.”

I knew Seth was right. What bothered me the most, and what I didn’t share with him, was that I was starting to like the idea.

“Will you help me, Seth?” I said.

“Sure.”

“Keep an eye on Vi and let me know what she’s up to. Once we get an idea who might have killed Clarissa, I’m going to need you to steer her in the wrong direction.”

“You want me to spy on my great-aunt, and then mislead the poor woman?”

I tilted my head at him, feeling a bit guilty when he put it that way. Although, “poor woman” hardly applied to Vi. I shrugged and nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “We really do need to walk the dogs.”

26

The walk didn’t last long due to the weather, which had turned nasty again. The earlier sense that maybe we had seen the worst of it faded and I moved on to that sense of stoic tolerance that was necessary to get through a Michigan winter. Tuffy had been carried most of the way home. Even when Seth shoveled an area for him to walk in, he didn’t like the snow or the cold feel of ice on his feet. He walked along shaking each foot as if he could brush off the cold and finally started limping on all four feet. Not easy to do. Even Baxter seemed to roll his eyes at the dramatic display.

The wind had picked up again and the temperature had dropped. I couldn’t believe we would get even more snow. We brought the dogs back to the cottage and brushed as much of the cold stuff as possible off of them before letting them inside. I grabbed the door as it flew inward with a gust of frosty air. We hurried inside and unclipped the leashes.

Tuffy sat and shivered, glowering at both of us from under his fringe. He tended to blame me for almost everything, but this time he included Seth in his disgruntlement.

A walk in the winter weather, on the other hand, had rejuvenated Baxter. He raced through the cottage on a continuous loop while Seth chased behind him with a towel. Baxter sideswiped me a couple of times, which was his way of inviting me to chase him.

Tuffy sighed, lay down on the front door carpet, and watched. Baxter calmed down a bit and then took up sentinel duty at the door to Seth’s room and barked. When we ignored him, he barked again, a bit more sharply. Baxter usually left the barking to Tuffy, so I approached him to see what was bothering him. He backed away from me, moving farther into the room, threw himself on the floor, and moaned.