Krista Davis - Diva 01 _ Diva Runs Out of Thyme, The

I continued to the kitchen. What a horrible day.

Craig followed me, plopped into a fireside chair, and Hannah promptly sat on his lap. Why did she turn into a simpering sexpot around him? Yuck.

Mom handed me a lipstick that she must have retrieved from the bathroom upstairs. “Humphrey agreed to meet us at the restaurant. We should invite Wolf, too. Where is he, Sophie?”

“He’s in the living room. He didn’t know about the colonel.”

Francie stiffened. “The detective is here? In the house?” She looked around frantically, jumped up, and lunged toward the kitchen door.

TWENTY-EIGHT

From “THE GOOD LIFE”:

Dear Sophie,

My elderly mother-in-law is moving in with us and we’d like to make her as comfortable as possible. What can we do to make her life in our house easier?

—Worrier in Woodstock

Dear Worrier,

Throw rugs cause a high percentage of falls in the home. Remove them from main walking areas. A grab bar in the bath and shower will make her feel more secure. Round doorknobs and water handles can be difficult for older hands to grasp. Replace them with lever handles for your mother-in-law’s comfort.

—Sophie

But just as Francie gripped the door handle, she suddenly went limp. Luckily Bernie leapt to her aid and caught her before she hit the floor. Then Mom rushed in to fan her and everyone spoke at once.

“Should I call an ambulance?” I asked.

Bernie carried Francie to the bench in the bay window and Mom opened a window panel.

Francie’s entire body slumped. “No ambulance,” she murmured. “I’ll be fine.”

Daisy and MacArthur kept their distance as if they knew she wasn’t well, but Mochie jumped onto the bench and sniffed her.

“Maybe she needs a good, stiff drink,” said Dad.

“What’s going on?” asked Wolf.

I hadn’t noticed him come in.

“I’m afraid the colonel’s death has been too much for her.” Mom wrapped a comforting arm around Francie, who looked like she might be sick.

And then my mom, never one to be deterred for long from thinking about my love life, or lack thereof, proceeded to invite Wolf to join us for dinner. Wolf paused before he said, “Sure. I think it would be very interesting to see the whole group together again.”

Oh, great. Mom had just set up a detective’s dream. He’d be scrutinizing us for clues to the killer. But if my plan worked, the killer would be here. Maybe Nina could help me watch for him. And I should corral the dogs in the sunroom—

“Sophie!” Mom interrupted my thoughts. “Mars and Andrew just drove up. June, would you be a dear and brew Francie a strong cup of tea?”

Trust Mom to keep people occupied. She snagged Dad’s sleeve and pulled him into the foyer. “Bring June some rum for Francie’s tea and make sure June stays in the kitchen.”

Promising to return shortly, Wolf strode out the front door just before Mars and Andrew walked in. June’s sons said hello to her before following Mom and me to the sunroom.

“Sophie, please don’t start arguing,” warned Mars. “We’ve discussed this issue thoroughly and it’s for Mom’s own protection. I know you love her, too. But how would you feel if she started a fire and burned to death?”

“You’re overreacting because of Natasha,” I said. “She’s laying a guilt trip on you to achieve what she wants.”

“I don’t even like Natasha.” Andrew flashed a guilty look at Mars. “Well, I don’t. I’d argue the sun was purple just so I wouldn’t have to agree with her. But the fire at Natasha’s house was huge. We’re not talking about some little flicker in a pan on the stove. Natasha talked to the folks who run the place we’re sending Mom. She won’t have access to an oven. Won’t have to cook at all. She’ll have a nice room and she can take her own furniture.”

I had no doubt that Mars would only allow June to live in a lovely facility. I wasn’t worried about that at all. “But I don’t think she’s ready. You’re pigeonholing her based on one incident. Besides, we don’t even know how the fire started.”

“Now listen here,” said Mom. “I’ve spent the last few days in June’s company and there’s not a reason in the world for you to put her away like she’s some kind of inconvenience.”

Go Mom! I swelled with pride.

“Inga, I don’t want to do this. But don’t you understand? She set fire to Natasha’s house. She’s a danger to herself.”

“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 hearse.

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 hearse.”

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 fashion. “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.”