“You’ve done a wonderful job with it,” I said.

  “Not me. All I’ve been doing is maintaining it. Uncle Gerry put in all the serious work of planning and planting over the years.”

  “Nevertheless,” I said. “Shall we sit out for a bit? It is such a lovely night. I’ve a bottle of wine in the fridge.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” he said.

  I called to Éclair. She came willingly, if not eagerly, and we strolled in companionable silence back to my cottage. It wasn’t all that late, not much after eleven, but the grounds were quiet. Greg’s car was not in the parking area, but several others were. The bridge women had packed up their game and gone in. The downstairs guest rooms and the upstairs ones facing the gardens were dark, but the light in the second-floor hallway shone. From behind Rose’s curtains we could see the flickering blue glow from her television. On the neighboring property, Matt’s place, the only light was the one above the front door.

  Simon settled himself in a chair on my porch, and I slipped inside for the wine and two glasses.

  The night was as calm and soft as the bay in front of us, stretching to the horizon in a sheet of black glass. Behind us, a sliver of moon did little to dim the brilliance of the stars.

  I opened the bottle, poured the drinks, and handed Simon a glass. He caressed my fingers as he took it. A jolt of lightning ran down my spine.

  He breathed deeply and closed his eyes. He moved the glass to his other hand, and reached for my fingers. He stroked them lightly as he talked. “I can understand why Rose bought this place. Iowa’s no place for an Englishwoman, so far from the sea, and she lived there for what, fifty or sixty years?”

  “Something like that. She missed the ocean, yes, although more likely what she missed was the idea of the ocean. I’ve never been to England, but I’ve seen a map and Halifax, where she’s from, isn’t near the coast. She says she and her family went to the seaside on holiday every year when she was a girl. It’s more about the house itself, I think, rather than the location. The poor little kitchen maid dreaming of being the mistress of a grand old home.”

  “She wasn’t a serf, Lily. By the late fifties, early sixties, she would have earned a good wage and have been treated well by her employers, if only because they’d have not wanted to lose her to a shop or factory job.”

  “I didn’t say the workings of my grandmother’s mind make any sense.” I sipped my wine.

  Éclair jumped to her feet and ran to the gate, ears up. She let out one sharp bark.

  Simon opened his eyes. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what? I guess not. I don’t hear anything.”

  He took his hand back, put down his glass, and sat up straight. “Sounded like a shout.”

  I listened, but I could hear nothing other than the sounds of the night. I might think Simon was imagining things, except that every muscle in Éclair’s body was taut as she pushed at the bottom of the gate.

  “Look at the dog,” Simon said.

  “It might be a squirrel, or something. Or a guest having a stroll. Although she’s so used to people wandering about, she doesn’t usually react. And not like that.”

  Simon stood up. “Probably nothing, but I’d like to check.” He opened the gate. Éclair shot out as though she’d been fired from a cannon, and headed for the big house.

  Then, at last, I heard it too. A low cry. A woman, calling, “Help!”

  Chapter 20

  Éclair reached her first and then Simon. By the time I arrived, Éclair was beside the woman, frantically licking her face, while Simon hovered above saying, “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Yes. I . . . think I am.” Sophia Reynolds blinked rapidly as she struggled to sit up.

  Simon edged the dog to one side, and then dropped to his haunches next to Sophia and put his hands lightly on her shoulders. “Careful, there. No need to hurry. Take your time.”

  Sophia gave him a weak smile. She lifted her hand to the back of her head. Her fingers came away wet and she started at them. Éclair moved in for a closer sniff, but I pulled her away, and ordered her to stand back.

  “Let me see,” Simon said. Sophia bent her head forward. Simon parted her hair and examined the back of her head. “I can’t tell too well in the dark, but you might have a nasty cut there. Do you think you can stand up and let us help you to the house?”

  “I . . . yes, I think so.”

  Simon took one arm and I took the other and together we helped a shaking Sophia to her feet while Éclair wagged her tail and sniffed at her legs.

  “Did you trip on something?” I looked around for a misplaced rock, a patch of disturbed earth.

  “I did not trip. Someone attacked me.”

  “Are you sure?” Simon’s tone was full of skepticism.

  I could see no one hiding in the shadows. If an intruder was lurking, Éclair was more occupied in trying to offer comfort to Sophia than searching out trespassers.

  “I’m sure,” Sophia said, her voice firm. “I heard someone behind me. I started to turn and then . . . they hit me.” Instinctively her hand returned to her injury. “I fell forward, but the cut’s on the back of my head.”

  Simon glanced at me. He gave me a nod.

  “Let’s get you up to the house,” I said. “Check it out under the lights. Do you want me to call an ambulance?”

  “No. I’m fine. I just need to sit down.”

  We walked slowly, Sophia between Simon and me, Éclair running ahead. Simon helped Sophia settle into a chair on the veranda, close to the light above the door, and then he carefully examined her head once again. “Bleeding seems to be stopping already. You’re going to have a heck of a lump though. You’d better get some ice on that.”

  “You didn’t see who was behind you?” I asked.

  “It’s dark, the person wore dark clothing. The shape was indistinct. I thought, at first, it was my daughter, McKenzie. Same height, about. But . . . no, it wasn’t McKenzie.” She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.

  “In case something’s been damaged,” Simon said, “you shouldn’t be alone. Not overnight. Can we call McKenzie for you?”

  Sophia blinked rapidly. “I don’t know if she’s back yet. Ivan is. He stepped into my room shortly before I went out. He was in town having a drink with McKenzie and Jack when Regina called and ordered him to return to Boston immediately. Immediately, as in tonight. As though Regina can order my children to do anything. He needed to talk to me about that. He wants to stay here, with me, as he should, until we can take Ralph home. Following that discussion, I knew I wouldn’t be able to get to sleep so I went for a walk. And”—she indicated the back of her head—“this happened. I want to call the police. My husband’s been murdered. I’ve been attacked. The incidents have to be related.”

  I looked at Simon. We nodded to each other at the same time. Sophia was right: if she’d been attacked, this couldn’t be a coincidence. It was possible she’d tripped and fallen and mistakenly believed someone had been responsible, but she seemed convinced such wasn’t the case. I’d attempted to take a few surreptitious sniffs of her breath. For what it was worth, I hadn’t smelt any alcohol.

  She took her phone out of her pocket and made a call. “Ivan, it’s Mom. I’m downstairs, on the veranda. I need you to come down immediately. Why? Because I said so, that’s why.”

  She hung up.

  “I’ll call the police,” I said. “And then get that ice.”

  I went into the house, wanting to get out of Sophia’s hearing range before speaking to Detective Redmond. Yes, I happen to have her number in my phone. No point in wasting time on 911.

  “Sorry to be calling so late,” I said. “But something’s going on here that might relate to the death of Ralph Reynolds.” I told her what happened. What appeared to have happened at any rate.

  “I hear some hesitation on your part, Lily. Do you have reason to doubt what Mrs. Reynolds says? You didn’t witness the incident yourself, and you say you didn’t see anyone hanging around.”

  I rummaged in the freezer with one hand and found a container of ice cubes. “I can’t say, Detective. Tensions in that family have been, to put it mildly, bubbling to the surface. I don’t think Sophia’s lying. She didn’t give herself that lump on the head. It’s possible she tripped in the dark and thinks someone caused it.”

  “I’ll be there in ten.”

  “Okay.”

  I folded a handful of ice cubes into a clean tea towel, dumped the rest of them into a bowl, and carried them out. Not only Ivan had come down but Regina also. Ivan wore a time-worn T-shirt far too large for him over boxer shorts, but his grandmother was still fully dressed.

  Simon took the tea towel from me and gently pressed it against the back of Sophia’s head. She muttered her thanks.

  My phone buzzed, and I put down the bowl.

  Rose: What’s happening? I hear voices

  Me: Minor incident. Simon and I have it under control

  Rose: What sort of minor incident?

  Me: Tell you tomorrow. Good night

  “Are you sure, Sophia?” Regina was saying when I put my phone away. “You have only a minor injury, if that. Have you been drinking?”

  “No, I have not been drinking, and I’ll thank you not to suggest such to the police. I am unhurt, because these people arrived on the scene quickly. They and their dog obviously scared her away.”

  “Her?” Ivan said.

  “You arrived on the scene quickly, Regina,” Sophia said. “Without being summoned. Why might that be?”

  “You needn’t make any insinuations,” Regina said. “Ivan knocked on my door to tell me you were in some distress. Naturally I was concerned.”

  “Naturally.” Sophia glared at her son. He glanced away.

  Color was returning to Sophia’s face, and her hands had stopped shaking. Battling with her mother-in-law appeared to require all her focus. “I wouldn’t put it past you to sneak up behind me intending to give me a fright, but you’re not exactly light on your feet, are you, Regina?”

  Regina said nothing.

  “Why did you say ‘her’?” Ivan asked. “You called the person who hit you ‘her.’ ”

  “It was Jenny Hill,” his mother replied. “I was unsure at first but now that I’ve thought it over, I’m positive.”

  Regina sniffed. “Not that again. You have got to get over blaming Jenny for everything that goes wrong in your life. Accept some responsibility for your own actions.”

  “I don’t have to account to you,” Sophia replied. “Not now, not ever. But, if I must, let me assure you I didn’t hit myself on the back of the head. As for Jenny Hill, she’s been a living ghost, constantly haunting my marriage. Always there, never mentioned but never forgotten by my husband or by you. The one he should have married. The woman he loved; the woman who would have provided him with the business sense you think I don’t have.” The color began rising in her cheeks, her eyes blazed. “Her husband died, and she and her daughter moved away, and I thought I was rid of her. At last. Although nothing got any better, did it? Not with Ralph. Not with you. The other specter in my marriage. I couldn’t believe it when Greg—”

  “Please, Mom,” Ivan said. “Don’t do this. Not now.”

  “If not now, when? I should have said my piece years ago.”

  “You have never stopped saying your piece, Sophia,” Regina said. “This is all so tedious.”

  “Why don’t I refresh the ice on your head?” I asked, trying to sound as cheerful as I could.

  * * *

  We were still gathered on the veranda when Amy Redmond drove up. Simon and I told her our story, and then Sophia related hers. She emphasized that the attacker must have run off when, first Éclair and then Simon and I arrived. She also said that, now her head was clearing, she was sure Jenny Hill had struck her.

  “How sure?” Redmond asked.

  “I’m not entirely positive, Detective. But I did get a quick glance at the person. At first, I thought it might be my daughter, McKenzie, when I began to turn to greet her. Jenny’s the same height and, although she’s considerably stouter than McKenzie, she was wearing dark, loose clothes.” Sophia snuck a sideways glance at her mother-in-law, substantially shorter than the two women mentioned.

  “I’ll pay a call on Mrs. Hill,” Redmond said.

  “You do that,” Sophia said.

  “Waste of time,” Regina said. “Sophia is confused and her brain is trying to make sense of her injury. A common psychological problem.”

  Before Sophia could retort, the front door opened and Marie’s head poked out. Her hair was tousled with sleep, her eyes bleary, and she wore a cotton nightgown that fell to her toes. “Everything okay out here?”

  “This is a private conversation,” Regina snapped.

  Marie recoiled as though she’d been struck. “Well pardon me for caring. Our bedroom window’s open, because I like the night air. I thought I recognized Detective Redmond’s voice.” She glared at Regina. “Plus, if I may say so, you people are not exactly keeping your voices down.”

  “Thank you for your concern,” Redmond said. “We’re good here. Have you and your group been in all night?”

  “We went to dinner in town. Got back shortly after nine. Nine thirty maybe? I didn’t check the time, but it was almost fully dark. I suggested a game, but some of the others said it had been a long day and they wanted to turn in, so we did. What happened?”

  “Did you hear anyone moving around in the house in the last half hour or so? Or out in the garden?”

  “People are always coming and going in this house. It is a hotel, after all. The stairs and floorboards in the hallway creak. I heard nothing specific. Not until a short while ago when I heard all this commotion.”

  “Thank you,” Redmond said.

  Marie glanced at the watching faces. “I’ll go back to my room then.”

  “You do that,” Regina said.

  Marie threw the older woman a poisonous look and slipped away.

  “When we next gather for Greg’s wedding,” Regina said, “we’ll book an Airbnb, and have the entire house to ourselves.”

  “That sounds like fun. Not.” Ivan picked up the bowl of ice. “Come on, Mom, let’s get you inside. I’ll call Mac and tell her to get back here. We can take turns checking on you tonight.”

  “Where is your sister anyway?” Sophia asked.

  “Jack has a gig in town, and she went with him.”

  “Oh, yes,” Regina said. “Jack. Him and his useless band. Speaking of useless, where’s Greg?”

  “Greg,” Sophia snapped, “has decided to follow his own path in life. And good for him. Being an artist is not a useless endeavor.”

  “It is,” Regina replied, “if it brings in no income.”

  I got the feeling this was an old argument. And probably one they shouldn’t have been constantly having in front of other members of their family. Never mind total strangers.

  “Greg went for dinner and then a movie with Hannah and Jenny,” Ivan said.

  “He’s being surprisingly loyal,” Sophia said. “I wonder if that will change when Jenny’s in prison.”

  “Before you go, Detective,” Simon said. “If Lily and I might have a word?”

  We walked with her to her car. Éclair heard rustling in the bushes and started to head off to investigate, but I called her to me and she came reluctantly.

  “Wouldn’t want to have Thanksgiving dinner at their house,” Redmond said.

  “Everyone’s saying that,” I said. “You don’t give any credence to Sophia accusing Jenny, I hope. Sophia initially told us she didn’t see her alleged attacker. She later changed her story to say it was likely Jenny.”

  “I won’t give any credence to anything without proof,” Redmond said. “But I do have to talk to Jenny Hill about her whereabouts tonight.”

  “One thing I should mention,” Simon said. “Sophia says we interrupted the attack and the attacker ran off. That’s not right. We didn’t get there all that quickly. I heard a shout, what was likely Sophia calling out as she fell, but we didn’t move for several minutes. Not until she called for help, and even then the dog reached her first. If someone meant her serious harm, I don’t think they would have given her a chance to cry for help.”

  “Good point,” Redmond said. “What then might have been the motive? If this was a deliberate attack and not just confusion in the dark?”

  “Give her a fright?” I said. “She says it wasn’t her mother-in-law, but it’s pretty obvious they can’t stand each other.”

  Redmond grinned. “You noticed that, did you?”

  “Don’t have to be any sort of detective,” Simon said.

  “Maybe Regina did sneak up behind her,” I said. “Give her a whack to remind her of her place. And Sophia decided to deal with it later, in her own way.”

  “That’s pure speculation, Lily.”

  “True, but speculation based on my careful observation of human nature.”

  Redmond sort of choked, but she didn’t reply.

  “One more thing, while you’re here,” I said. “I’ve been wondering about that Raggedy Ann doll and what it has to do with all this. Did you get any DNA or fingerprints off it? Other than Greg’s or Simon’s?”

  “Not off the doll as it’s too highly textured. But we found some on the box it was in. Pretty clear ones, too.”

  “Did they match with anyone who’d been at the shower, other than those we know touched it after it had been unwrapped?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Who?”

  “To find that out, Lily, you will have to use your powers of careful observation of the human condition. I’ll let you know if I need anything further from you tonight.”

  “Good one,” Simon said as we watched the red lights of her car disappear down the driveway.

  I gave his arm a hearty swat.

  Before we turned to head back to the cottage, headlights appeared at the top of the driveway.

  “Looks like Matt,” Simon said.