I’d earlier told the detective what I’d overheard at the edge of the bluff between Ralph and his son. Yes, Ralph had been intent on preventing the marriage. If Jenny knew that, and she likely did, how far would she go to stop his interference? None, I decided. It didn’t matter one whit what Ralph or Sophia, or even Jenny, wanted. Greg and Hannah intended for the marriage to go ahead. “What of it, Detective? For heaven’s sake, this isn’t the nineteenth century. What’s Ralph going to do, threaten to banish his son and his bride to the colonies? Send him to a monastery?”

  “Personal disagreements never have to make sense, Lily. Not to outsiders, although they can make perfect sense to the participants.”

  “You can’t accept hearsay.”

  “I can, and will, accept anything I want. Hearsay isn’t valid in court, but we use it all the time in putting together a case.”

  “Surely, it means nothing. We all get mad and make idle threats. Well, most of us do, at any rate . . .” My voice trailed off.

  “That’s true. But when someone threatens to stop someone else, one way or another, and I quote, and the second someone ends up dead less than twenty-four hours later, I take it seriously, yes.”

  I thought of the figure I’d seen slip out of the shadows to follow Ralph, after an angry Greg had stormed off. Had Jenny overheard Ralph trying to bribe his son into abandoning Hannah at the altar and decided to take action? I answered my own question with a firm no. Greg had turned his father’s offer down. And forcefully at that, not wavering for a moment. “Okay. Okay. Say I buy that. I don’t, but Jenny and Ralph had an argument about the wedding. It would appear that Ralph accepted a drink from the person who meant him harm. He wouldn’t have invited Jenny up to his room for a drink a few hours later, would he?”

  She studied my face. “I’m not coming to any definite conclusions, but it’s also been brought to my attention that Ralph and Jenny were involved at one time. In a romantic relationship. From what I understand, they were engaged, the wedding date was set, the arrangements made. And then she left him to marry another man. Maxwell Hill, Hannah’s father. Ralph didn’t take being dumped almost at the altar well, but he married Sophia shortly after that. Admittedly that all happened a long time ago.”

  I nodded. I’d heard the same.

  “His marriage to Sophia, according to his mother for what that’s worth, was never a happy one. His children haven’t come straight out and said the same, but they obviously agree.”

  “So?”

  “So, perhaps, if he still had feelings for Jenny, he invited her up to his room. For old time’s sake. And, I have to ask, did she still have feelings for him? But feelings in the opposite direction? Max Hill worked at Ralph Reynolds’s company. He quit, or was fired depending on who you ask, after Jenny broke her engagement to Ralph. He’d been an up-and-coming business executive. He ended up managing the small-town branch of a national hardware chain. He died only a few years later. Does Jenny hold Ralph responsible for that?”

  For no other reason than because I liked her, I felt compelled to defend Hannah’s mother. “That’s all pure speculation. You can’t accuse a woman of murder based on that.”

  She raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “I can’t? We’ll see. I believe I’ve kept everyone waiting long enough.”

  I followed her into the house. The two uniformed officers stood beside the open doors leading to the dining room. Karen, the bridge player with the big glasses, huddled beneath the staircase, anxious to eavesdrop on the drama, but trying not to be noticed and ordered to leave. She gave us a weak grin and held up her phone, pretending she’d come out into the hall to make a call.

  Redmond and I went into the dining room. As well as the Reynolds family, with the exception of McKenzie, Hannah and her mother were there, as was Samantha, the bridesmaid. Dave was nowhere to be seen. Take-out containers from the local Chinese restaurant, barely touched, were piled on the serving table next to the kitchen. Disposable plates, plastic cutlery, and crumpled paper napkins covered several tables, along with bottles of wine and beer and glasses taken from the bedrooms. Unlike the food, the wine and beer had been touched. And quite heavily judging by the level in the bottles and the number of cans scattered around the room.

  I stifled a groan. Highly unlikely Sophia would encourage her family to clean up after themselves before turning in. Edna would not be happy to arrive at work tomorrow to see the dining room in this state.

  Detective Williams was helping himself to an egg roll as we came in. He dipped it into a small container of lurid orange sauce. Rose had taken a seat at a table for two by the French doors. Robbie sat on her lap, ears up, tail twitching slowly. She stroked him methodically. Two sets of eyes watched events with much interest.

  “So pleased you could join us, Detective Redmond,” Regina said. “Now, can we get this over with as quickly as possible? It is getting late. Your partner said we were to wait for you. I told him—”

  Williams swallowed a huge bite of egg roll and wiped sauce off his face with a paper napkin.

  “I’m here now,” Redmond said.

  Undeterred by the detective’s sharp tone, Regina continued, “I told him a lady of my age needs her beauty rest.”

  Rose grinned to herself. That’s pretty much what she’d said.

  “As if that’s going to help,” Sophia said under her breath. She might have meant the comment to pass unnoticed, but Regina’s face tightened.

  “Enough of that.” Greg pushed his unfinished plate to one side. “We’re all here now, get on with it.”

  I thought it significant that Greg and Hannah had taken a table for four, with Jenny and Samantha, rather than joining the rest of his family around the big table.

  Ivan got up and helped himself to a beer. Regina waved her empty glass at him. “While you’re at the bar, dear . . .”

  “That might not be wise. We need to keep our wits about us,” Sophia said.

  “My wits, thank you, Sophia, are always about me,” her mother-in-law replied.

  I don’t know much about police methods, although I have learned a few things since coming to North Augusta, but I suspect there’s not much the cops like better than a group of suspects freely airing their dirty laundry and revealing minor (and major) resentments in front of them.

  Ivan ducked his head and filled his grandmother’s glass. He handed it to her without looking at his mother. Regina, however, gave Sophia a look of triumph.

  Sophia looked away.

  “Where’s Dave Farland?” Amy Redmond asked.

  “He went into town with McKenzie and Jack earlier. They’re going to have dinner and hit a few bars. He says he’s getting tired of hanging around here,” Greg said.

  “He’s not the only one,” Ivan mumbled.

  “Why has he not left then?” Williams asked. “Gone home.”

  “He’s being supportive,” Greg said. “Which is his role as my best man. Besides, he and I work together, so I know he doesn’t have any jobs to hurry to get back for. At the moment, I mean.” A quick, nervous glance at his grandmother. “Contracts are starting to come in.”

  “As you are aware,” Williams said, “I regard the death of Mr. Ralph Reynolds to be suspicious. I have further questions for you all. “Did anyone of you—?”

  “We’ll speak to you one at a time,” Redmond said. “If we can use your drawing room once again, Mrs. Campbell?”

  “Certainly,” Rose said.

  Redmond half turned and nodded to Bland, telling her to keep an eye on the people in the dining room.

  “Okay,” Williams said. “Good plan. Let’s start with—”

  “Mrs. Hill,” Redmond said. “If you’ll come with us, please.”

  Jenny threw a worried glance at Hannah as she said, “Me? I don’t know anything. I wasn’t even here when . . . when Ralph died.”

  “It’s okay, Jenny,” Greg said to her with a smile. “They’ll be talking to us all in turn. It’s routine procedure.”

  Hannah gripped her mother’s hand in encouragement and Jenny stood up slowly. “If I can help, I will.”

  I threw a look at Rose. She tilted her head to one side, in the direction of the hallway, sending me a message. Reluctantly, I gave her a small nod. “Why don’t I put the coffeepot on?” I said.

  “Good idea,” Williams said. “This might take a while. Some cookies would be nice, too.”

  Rather than going directly into the kitchen, I slipped into the hallway in the wake of the detectives and Jenny Hill. Bland gave me a nod and a smile as I passed and said, “Coffee’d be good, thanks.”

  I moved to close the dining room door, but Bland put out a hand. “It’s okay the way it is.” From the dining room entrance, she’d be able to see into the hallway and watch the door of the drawing room in case she was needed.

  Karen still hovered under the stairs, her eyes as bright and wide with interest as Robbie’s had been. “Can we help you?” Detective Redmond said in a cool voice.

  “No. I’m just . . . uh . . . looking for a cup of hot tea. Oh, there you are, Miss . . . I’m sorry, but my stomach’s quite upset. My friends went out to dinner, but I didn’t feel well. I’d like some herbal tea. Do you have any?”

  “Packets of tea should have been refreshed in your room this morning,” I said. “Were they not?”

  “Uh . . . I didn’t check. Sorry. Sheila, that’s my roommate, might have used them all. She likes her tea.”

  “If you wouldn’t mind checking first,” I said. “Then you can let me know if you need any, and I’ll see if I can find something.”

  She scurried off down the hallway to her room. Redmond watched her go, a look of disapproval on her face. “Crime-scene groupie,” she muttered.

  They went into the drawing room along with Officer Kowalski. He shut the door.

  I was pretty sure Rose had been signaling to me to slip into the secret room and listen to the goings-on in the drawing room. Not only did I not want to—part of that not-wanting-to-get-involved thing—I couldn’t.

  If Officer Bland half turned and glanced into the hallway she’d see me creeping into the linen closet. And, more to the point, not coming out bearing fresh linens. Plus, I couldn’t be sure crime-scene groupie Karen wouldn’t sneak out of her room when she thought the coast was clear in an attempt to listen to the various conversations swirling around.

  Nothing I could do but make coffee and put the kettle on. I didn’t keep any cookies in the B & B kitchen, and I didn’t want to use the muffins and coffee cake I’d prepared for tomorrow. Besides, plenty of take-out food was still left. Not to mention the wine and beer.

  Coffee on and kettle filled, I slipped out the rear door and climbed the three steps to ground level. Outside, all was dark and quiet. The beam of light thrown by the lamp over the door shone on the cliffside pathway. On the far side of the fence protecting walkers from the drop, the waters of the bay murmured softly as the tide came in.

  The dining room drapes were open, and I could see everything clearly as I hurried past. Greg and Hannah had pulled their chairs closer together and clasped hands on the top of the table. Samantha, the bridesmaid, had gotten up and was talking to Ivan by the serving table. The Reynolds family sat in silence.

  Regina happened to look up as I slipped past. She saw me, but did not acknowledge me. Just another servant, going about her tasks.

  I hurried to the cottage and called to Éclair. She needed a walk, even if it was only as far as the big house. It was unlikely anyone would need me, other than to make the coffee, but I wanted to be nearby if anything happened.

  My dog also needed her dinner, so I quickly opened a can of dog food and served it up. While Éclair dined, I texted Bernie: Cops back. More questions for everyone. No other news.

  Bernie’s reply was instantaneous: Having drinks with Matt. Need us?

  Me: I don’t even need me. Just providing info.

  Bernie: [Thumbs-up emoji]

  Finally Éclair finished her meal and looked up at me with a hopeful smile. “You’re in luck,” I said, taking the leash off its hook. “You can come with me.”

  She yipped and ran for the door.

  Outside, the dog sniffed at the base of bushes and fence posts, all ready to settle in for a long leisurely walk. “Sorry, girl, but this is a short one,” I said. “I have to get back.” I snapped my fingers, called her name, and she, reluctantly, tore herself away from the important business of gathering the news of the neighborhood.

  When I passed the dining room windows a second time, some people had moved position. Jenny was back, sitting at the table with Hannah, Greg, and Samantha. Her head was down, her shoulders hunched. Her daughter rubbed her back, while Greg kept his hand on Hannah’s arm. Jenny looked up as I passed and we exchanged glances. Her large, dark eyes brimmed with worry. I gave her what I intended to be an encouraging smile. She turned away, not looking encouraged.

  Sophia’s chair was empty. Ivan was piling his plate with another round of Chinese food. Most of the rest of them had pushed half-eaten plates aside.

  In the kitchen, the coffee was ready and the kettle hot. I made tea in an old-fashioned Brown Betty pot and poured the fresh coffee into a carafe. Cups and mugs were kept in the drawers of the serving table in the dining room. I put the drinks on a tray along with cream, milk, and sugar and carried the lot out. Again, taking the route via the hallway rather than the door leading directly into the dining room. I didn’t order Éclair to stay and she trotted after me.

  At the sight of us, Karen stepped out from the door to her room. “There you are. I was coming to look for you. I found those tea packets, like you said. A chamomile will do me good, I’m sure.” She spoke to me, but her eyes wandered to the dining room. She attempted to crane her neck to see around the corner. From the drawing room came the sound of low voices, but I couldn’t make out any words.

  At that moment the front door opened to admit the three remaining women of the bridge group.

  “What’s going on?” Marie asked. “There’s a police car outside.”

  “Have they come to arrest the murderer?” Laurie asked, the excitement in her voice palpable.

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  “A coffee’d be nice.” Marie threw a pointed look at the tray I was carrying.

  “Not for me, thanks,” Laurie said, even though I hadn’t offered. “I can’t have caffeine after noon or I’ll never sleep.”

  Victoria-on-Sea isn’t a full-service hotel, and I didn’t want anyone mistaking it for such. “This is for the police,” I said. “You should have everything you need in your room.”

  The bridge players peered into the dining room. I wasn’t surprised they were interested. The scene was like something out of a movie. The tall, young, stern-faced cop, standing at the doorway, back straight, feet apart, hands on hips, silently watching everyone and everything. The elegant formal dining room. The dark night outside; the sound of the sea in the distance. The feuding families, gathered in their own private worlds, all of them trying to hide how nervous they were. Voices, either low in questioning or sharp in reply, coming from behind a closed door. My grandmother, black cat alert on her lap, long fingers moving through the fur, taking it all in without appearing to be doing so. Like an elderly English version of Benoit Blanc.

  Only one of the bridge players had no interest in the official goings-on. She’d spotted Éclair the moment she came in, and immediately dropped to her haunches and held out her hand. “Aren’t you a darling. Are you a little girl or a boy?”

  “Girl,” I said. “Her name’s Éclair.”

  The woman laughed. “Perfect. I could gobble you right up. Yes, I could. Munch munch munch.”

  Éclair graciously allowed herself to be scratched.

  “Trust Sheila,” Laurie said. “She never met a dog she didn’t want to take home with her.”

  “Got that one right,” Sheila said.

  A shout came from behind the drawing-room door. Instinctively we all looked toward it. It appeared to be Ivan’s turn under the bright lights, and he wasn’t bothering to keep his voice down.

  Marie winced and smoothly changed the subject. “How are you feeling, Karen? Tummy better?”

  “Much better, thanks.” Karen tore her attention away from the goings-on in the dining room. “Did you have a pleasant dinner?”

  “It was great. Nice place close to the pier.” Marie indicated the closed door to the drawing room. “We planned to watch a movie together. Shall I assume that’s not in the cards tonight?”

  “Sorry,” I said. “The police have taken that room for their own use.”

  “I’d love to know what’s happening, but it really is none of our business, right, girls?” she said. “The night is still young, although we are not. How about a couple of hands of bridge before turning in?”

  Even Éclair’s attention couldn’t distract Shelia from the sound of that. She pushed herself to her feet with a soft grunt. “I’m in.”

  “I’d rather not,” Karen began. “I’m still feeling a bit queasy. Plus I’m at an exciting part in my book and—”

  “You can’t bow out,” Sheila said. “You just said you were feeling better, and a proper game of bridge needs four people.”

  “Probably not tonight,” I said. “But another time if you need a fourth, my grandmother’s a good player.”

  “She told us that. I’d love to have her join us one night.” Sheila linked her arm through Karen’s and led her away. “Our room, ten minutes. Although I’d just as soon not partner with you tonight. You’ve been off your game.”

  “Stomach bug setting in,” Karen said.

  “Yuk,” Laurie said.

  I took the tray into the dining room.

  Chapter 14

  One by one the Reynoldses and their friends and frenemies were interviewed by Detectives Redmond and Williams, and then allowed to return to the dining room. Ivan did his best to demolish the leftover Chinese food, but no one else ate much of anything. Other than Regina, who made good use of the wine, despite (or perhaps because of) Sophia’s disapproving glare.