Megan, who sat nearby, seemed equally eager for information.

  Savannah looked at both of them and quietly said, “Rags found the body, but it disappeared again.”

  “What?” June said, spilling a little of her tea. She reached for a napkin and began dabbing at the spot on her dress.

  “It’s gone. It’s been moved. Or the man isn’t dead at all and he walked or crawled away.” She shook her head. “What is going on? This is all crazy.”

  “Crazy is my middle name,” June said. “I’m always finding myself in odd situations, but nothing like this.”

  Savannah sat down near June and asked, “Who knew that you had an appointment with your attorney today?”

  “Uh, I don’t think anyone did,” she said. “No, no one but you, Savannah.”

  Thinking out loud, Savannah said, “I wonder what he had on his mind.”

  “What are you suggesting, Savannah?” June asked.

  “Who would he incriminate when he shared that mysterious piece of information with you? Perhaps that person was trying to keep him from divulging it.”

  Before June could respond, Savannah’s phone rang and she answered it. “Hi, Craig.”

  “Savannah, does Mrs. Balcomb know a man named Clarence Norton?”

  Holding the phone away from her ear, she asked, “June, do you know someone named Clarence Norton?”

  “Oh my, is he dead, too?” June asked.

  “He works for you, right?” Savannah asked her.

  “Yes, he’s a trusted staff member. He drives for me and helps Megan with various tasks. Why?”

  Savannah said into the phone, “He works here, why?”

  “He was driving the car you saw leaving the estate.”

  She repeated, “June, he was in the car we saw leaving the estate.”

  “Well, sure he was. I sent him to get cat food this morning. Is he all right?” the elderly woman asked.

  “June says she sent him for cat food. Is he okay?”

  Craig cleared his throat. “He’s okay. He was on his way to the pet food store when we stopped him and we found no body in the car.”

  “Yeah, Craig, the body’s still here. Or was. It disappeared again before Deputy Jim got here.”

  “What? Savannah, what are you ladies drinking this morning? Bloody Marys?”

  She chuckled nervously. “No. Jim and Ben are out looking for the body now. Rags found it on the patio, but....”

  “Are you sure the guy’s dead?” Craig asked impatiently.

  “Actually, no,” she said. “We haven’t spent enough time with…the body…to find out. Oh, here come the deputies. I’ll call you back, Craig.”

  “Yes, do that.”

  “Come in, Jim, Ben,” Savannah invited after ending the call. “I think you’ve met June Balcomb and her assistant Megan. Megan is the one who found the body…the first time…in the kitchen. Did you find it?”

  Jim cringed a little and said, “Yeah, we found…it. The paramedics are working on him now.”

  “He’s alive?” Megan shouted, disbelieving. “But he had a knife sticking out of his back.” She gasped. “Did he say who stabbed him?”

  “Not yet,” Ben said. “He’s in pretty bad shape.”

  “Thank the Lord he’s alive,” June said, tearing up. “I don’t know what I’d do without Sterling.”

  Jim and Ben exchanged glances. Then Ben turned to Megan. “Now what do you know about what happened to Mr. Goss?”

  “Nothing. I didn’t see anything or anyone. He just walked into the kitchen like he was going to say something to me and fell on his face. That’s all.”

  Ben made a note on a pad, then asked, “Where did he come from?”

  When Megan looked confused, he said, “Did he walk in from the hallway into the kitchen?”

  “Oh no,” Megan said. “He came through the outside kitchen door—and then I guess he crawled back out.”

  “Why would a man who thinks he might be dying try to crawl back out into the yard?” June asked. “Now that doesn’t seem logical to me. Does it to you people?”

  “You’re right. Unless he was strong enough to stand, he wouldn’t even be able to open the door,” Savannah added.

  “Oh, he was dragged,” Ben said. “I don’t think he opened the door or crawled anywhere. Whoever tried to kill him might have dragged him out, thinking he was dead, and when they saw he wasn’t, they panicked and tried to hide him—or take him someplace to kill him.”

  “He didn’t have to open the door,” Megan said quietly.

  “What?” Ben asked. “What do you mean, he didn’t have to open the door?”

  “It was still open when I came in here to tell Junie what had happened.”

  Ben looked at Megan and wrote on his pad. “So he could have crawled out through the open door?”

  “I suppose,” Megan said, “…since he was still alive.”

  “Did he say anything to you?” Jim asked.

  “No. I was mixing some cake batter. When I turned around, he just stood there, then he fell over onto the floor. That’s when I saw the big knife sticking out of his back.”

  “What did the big knife look like?”

  “Didn’t you see it?” she asked. “It was protruding pretty far. I don’t know how you could miss it.”

  “No, it wasn’t there. There was no knife, just a wound. Can you describe the knife?”

  “It was….” she hesitated, “…a kitchen knife. I see Gwen use one like it all the time.”

  Jim stared at Megan. “Are there any knives missing from the kitchen that you know of?”

  “Hell, I don’t know. Ask one of the cooks.”

  He addressed June. “Can we get one of the cooks in here? I’d like to ask them a few questions.”

  June nodded and picked up her phone. “Gwendolyn…” she hesitated “…we’ve had an accident here. Are you on the premises? Could you meet with an officer in the kitchen right away?” After ending the call, June said, “She’ll be right there.”

  As Jim left to meet with the cook, Ben continued his questioning. “Do any of you know who would want to harm Mr. Goss?”

  The three women glanced at one another, then June spoke, “I’d sure like to know that myself, officer. I sure would. It might bring peace again to my life.”

  Before long, Jim returned, looking grim. He peered at Megan. “The chef’s knife is missing from the block.” He glanced around at the others. “I had Ms. Harris look for it and she couldn’t find it. She seemed alarmed because it is a knife they use regularly and she’s never known it to go missing before. She said she’d let us know if it turns up.”

  Jim took one quick look at the women and said, “Well, let’s get over to the hospital, shall we? I’d like to speak with Mr. Goss. We may have more questions for you ladies, too.”

  ****

  “I saw some of your photos on exhibit at the diner today,” Michael told Savannah later that evening. He pulled a piece of newspaper from his pocket. “This is a list of participants.”

  “The photographers or where their work is being exhibited?” she asked.

  “Both,” he said, handing it to her.

  She glanced at the list and let out a sigh. “I didn’t make it downtown today.”

  “I guess you didn’t, with all that you had going on at the estate. Rags sure dragged you into a mess when he found June’s cat, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah,” she said rolling her eyes. She smiled. “So how did the pictures look?”

  “Professional. Quite professional.” He squeezed her hand. “Good job, hon. Oh, I saw people looking at them, too, and I told them, “Those are my wife’s photos.”

  “Cool.”

  He peered into her eyes. “I’m proud of you. Really proud of you.”

  Before Savannah could respond, the house phone rang. “Probably a telemarketer,” she said as she reluctantly picked it up.

  “Savannah Ivey?” the male voice on the other end said.

  “Yes, who’s this?”

  After a pause, he responded, “An admirer.”

  “Oh?”

  “I saw your picture in town today. You look really good. But I think you’re hotter in person.”

  “Is this Peter?” she asked suspiciously. “Always joking, aren’t you, Peter, and always flattering the women.”

  “Uh, who’s Peter? Does he think you’re beautiful, too?”

  Savannah hesitated, then asked again, “Who is this?”

  “I told you, an admirer. Have coffee with me and you’ll find out.”

  Still thinking it might be a friend playing a prank, she said, “Um, I don’t think so. My husband wouldn’t like it. I am married, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know…to that weasel Michael Ivey. I’d sure like to take his place.”

  With that, Savannah scowled and quickly hung up the phone.

  “Who was it?” Michael asked, his brow creased in concern. “Did I hear you say Peter’s name?”

  “Yeah, I thought it might be him joking around. But I don’t think so. I don’t know who it was. Someone who saw a picture of me—hanging with my photographs, I guess.”

  “Yes, there was a picture of you.”

  Well, darn. I guess some random guy liked the way I look, found the phone number for that damn landline, and made a lewd call.”

  “Lewd?”

  She shrugged. “Well, not exactly, but I think it was going in that direction before I cut him off. Michael, let’s not answer that phone anymore. Let’s let the machine take messages, okay?”

  “Okay with me.”

  She frowned. “Actually, I guess it’s someone I’ve seen before—or he’s seen me. He mentioned something about seeing me in person.” She giggled nervously. “He said you’re a…”

  “A what?” he asked, frowning.

  “A weasel.”

  “A weasel?” Michael said, as if insulted. “Well, that…”

  Savannah wrapped her arms around Michael’s neck. “I don’t think you’re a weasel and I don’t take this flirt thing seriously, so you shouldn’t either.”

  “I don’t like other men coming on to my wife. I hope you nipped it in the bud, Savannah.”

  She laughed. “Of course I did. I don’t think he’ll be bothering me again. In fact, he probably called all the photographers and he’ll go with the first one who agrees to a coffee date.”

  Michael laughed. “Even old grumpy Mr. Phipps? He got an honorable mention, you know.”

  Savannah smirked playfully at her husband.

  ****

  “I think June’s trying to reach you on your cell,” Michael said, as he caught up with Savannah in the kitchen the following morning. He handed her the phone. “It was ringing when I came out of the shower.”

  Savannah looked at the screen. “Oh, yes, that’s her number. She’s up early.” She placed a few cereal puffs and cut-up fruit on Lily’s high chair tray and returned the call. “Hi, June. How are you this morning?”

  “Hello, dear. I wonder if you could drive me to see poor Sterling.”

  “Oh, how’s he doing? Have you heard?”

  “Not well. Not well at all. I spoke with his wife this morning and she said he’s in a coma, but the doctors think he could wake up at any time. She says he’s certainly not out of the woods.”

  “Well, June, if he’s in a coma, is there any point in visiting him? Will they even let you in?”

  After hesitating, June said, “I don’t know, Savannah. I just feel this need to see him, even if I can’t speak with him yet. I can’t explain it, I…” She became silent for a moment, then asked, “So can you take me to Sterling this morning? I’m ready now. But I know you have a family, so you let me know when it’s convenient for you.”

  Savannah thought for a moment before saying, “Our housekeeper will be here in a little while and she’s planning to watch Lily this morning. So I can pick you up in about forty-five minutes. Is that okay?”

  “Oh yes, that would be fine. Thank you.”

  When Savannah told Michael of June’s request he frowned. “Why you, do you think? I mean she has a whole staff of people over there at the estate—drivers, caretakers… Why did she ask you to drive her?”

  “Well, she’s a little gun-shy about her staff these days. I think she’d rather not involve them in personal business.” She shrugged. “At least that would be my guess.”

  ****

  It was nearly eight when Savannah pulled into the driveway at the estate. She was surprised to see Megan rushing down the front steps, frantically waving a dishtowel. “I’m so glad you’re here, Mrs. Ivey! Come quickly, there’s been an accident!”

  Savannah leaped out of the car, her heart in her throat. “Is June okay?” she asked, running after the woman.

  “No. I don’t think so. Not after what happened. Hurry!” she insisted.

  As soon as she stepped through the front door, Savannah heard someone sobbing. She quickly followed Megan toward the sound and found June in the cat room sitting in her chair with her long-haired tabby, Tabitha, lying limp on her lap.

  “Oh no, what happened?” Savannah asked. “Is she…?”

  “I think so,” Megan said. “There’s a note.”

  “A note?” Savannah asked frowning. She knelt next to June and gently put her hands on the cat. “Let me take a look. She’s breathing—it’s labored and faint, but she’s breathing.” She turned to Megan. “What did the note say? Did it give a clue as to what happened to her?”

  Megan shook her head. “It said, ‘eight more to go.’”

  Savannah clenched her jaw. “Damn!” She then turned to June. “Okay, let’s get her to the clinic immediately. Michael should be arriving about now. I’ll call and tell him we’re coming. If she’s been poisoned, there may be time. Megan, would you help June to the car. I’ll take Tabitha.”

  “It’s too late,” June said, wiping tears from her face. “I just know it’s too late.”

  “Come on, we have to try to save her,” Savannah insisted, gently lifting Tabitha off the distraught woman’s lap. She rushed to the car with the cat cradled in her arms, handing her to June as soon as she was seated in the passenger seat. Savannah started to climb into the driver’s side when she stopped and asked Megan, “What time did they eat this morning?”

  “Just now.”

  “Where’s her food dish? I want to take a sample with us.” She headed back toward the house with Megan, who handed her Tabitha’s plate. “Take away any food that’s left, will you?” she called after the aide.

  “The other cats’ food?” Megan asked.

  Savannah shouted as she rushed toward the front door, “Yes, all of it!”

  Once they arrived at the clinic, Savannah eased Tabitha off June’s lap, rushed into the clinic, and handed her to Scarlett, their long-time receptionist. “This is Tabitha,” she said. “Dr. Mike’s expecting her—it’s an emergency.” She then went back to help June, who had slipped out of the car and was making her way slowly toward the clinic.

  “Will she be all right, Dr. Mike?” June pleaded, when Savannah ushered her into the exam room.

  “Sit here,” Savannah suggested. “I’ll go get the food sample.” When she returned, she said, “The food doesn’t smell right, Michael. It has a sweet smell that’s familiar to me.” She sniffed at it again. “I’ve smelled it before.”

  “Antifreeze,” Bud said as he entered the room.

  Michael glanced up at him and nodded.

  “Oh no,” Savannah moaned, touching the barely conscious cat affectionately. She looked at Michael. “Are you going to pump her stomach? Make her vomit?”

  “When did she eat?” he asked. “The food looks fresh.”

  “Probably ten or fifteen minutes ago,” June said, choking up.

  “Yes, I’ll try to get her to vomit. She seems to be awake and aware enough.” As he reached into a cabinet for hydrogen peroxide, he asked, “What about the other cats? Are any of them showing signs of illness? Did they all eat the same thing?”

  “Tabitha’s on that special diet we’re feeding Mazie Mae, remember?” June said. “Oh no, my Mazie Mae. What if she’s sick, too?”

  Michael peered at the woman. “Can you call someone and ask them to take a look at her?”

  “Yes,” June said, fumbling to pull her phone out of her small purse. Once she had the phone in her hand, she tapped on the screen. “Hello, Megan. How’s Mazie Mae? Is she showing any signs of being sick?” She hesitated, then said, “Yes, Megan, now. I want you to go look at her now and tell me if she’s okay. Hurry!”

  After a few moments, June’s demeanor relaxed some. “Good,” she said into the phone. “Thank you, Megan.” She looked at Michael. “Megan said she’s acting normal. No one else seems to be ill. Oh, Dr. Mike, you just have to save my Tabitha.”

  Michael looked at June, then at his wife. “Savannah, why don’t you both wait in the reception area? June, you’ll be more comfortable in there.” When she protested, he said, “Please, we’ll take good care of Tabitha.” He then called, “Susan, can you assist me?” as he picked up the limp tabby and headed into the lab area.

  It was several minutes later when Michael reappeared. He knelt next to June. “I think she’s going to be okay. We’ll know more after an hour or so.” He took her hand. “June, it appears she was poisoned—although it doesn’t look like she ate much this morning.”

  “No, no she didn’t. She left a lot on her plate.”

  “She must have sensed something was wrong with her food, although most cats like the taste of antifreeze.”

  June chuckled a little through her tears. “Not Tabitha. She’s a finicky eater.”

  “So Mazie Mae’s okay?” he asked, looking from June to Savannah.

  Savannah nodded. “According to Megan, she’s just fine. They don’t feed them together.” She managed a slight smile. “June says sweet Mazie Mae can be a little aggressive at mealtime.”

  “Dr. Mike, what am I going to do? My cats are in danger and I don’t know who’s trying to harm them.”

  “I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head.

  Savannah faced the woman. “June, the idea about cleaning house—letting your staff take some time off—might be a good one. How about if I get a group together to help you out for a while?”