Ralph Reynolds pushed himself through the crowd of onlookers. “What’s gotten into that girl? What’s going on here?”

  “A joke. A silly practical joke,” Sophia said. “Everyone, please, resume your seats and let us continue with the celebration. Ms. Roberts, we’d like our desserts now, if you please.”

  “Never mind the desserts,” Ralph said. “People need a drink. Let’s get those bottles of champagne open, why don’t we?”

  Slowly, nervously, people began to sit back down. They talked in low, anxious voices among themselves, but no one relaxed or resumed light conversation. Sophia might say this was a practical joke gone bad, but it was obvious Hannah was not taking it that way. A few people gathered around the box, staring at it, but no one made an attempt to open it.

  “Looked like a doll to me,” a man said. “Don’t know why someone would give an about-to-be-married couple a doll. Do you think that was a hint?”

  “I think you need to be quiet,” his wife snapped.

  Simon picked up the box. I could tell by the way he balanced it easily in his arms the doll was the only thing in it. “I’ll find a place to put this out of the way for now. Garden shed?”

  “Good idea,” I said.

  Marybeth ran up to me. “That present. I found it.”

  “What do you mean, you found it?”

  “We were getting the patio ready, and I spotted it. It was sitting near the driveway, on the other side of the gate, about half an hour before the guests were due to get here. I assumed it was a shower gift, so I put it on the table, where the bride’s mother had indicated the presents would go. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that?”

  “If saw it, I would have also assumed it was intended for Hannah. No other reason anyone would drop off a wrapped present here today.”

  “Whoever brought it, didn’t want to be seen,” Bernie said.

  “Did you notice if a card accompanied it, Marybeth?”

  “No. But I didn’t look for one. We were busy, so I just brought it in and forgot about it. Until now.”

  “You do your calm, everything’s-under-control restaurant owner act, Lily,” Bernie said. “Go check on Hannah. We’ve got this. Come on, Marybeth. Put that smile on.” They joined Cheryl at the serving counter. Bernie picked up a dish towel and wrapped the top of a champagne bottle in it prior to popping the cork.

  Hannah and Jenny were standing on the far side of the gate, the shaking bride enveloped in her mother’s comforting arms. Greg and the bridesmaid hovered next to them, not sure of what to do.

  I slipped through the gate. “You’re understandably upset, Hannah. You need some time to yourself. If you don’t want to continue with the party, why don’t we go up to the house? You can have a seat in the drawing room, and I’ll bring you a cup of tea. If you haven’t had enough tea already, that is.”

  “Thank you,” Jenny said. “That’s very kind.”

  “What on earth is going on?” Sophia marched through the gate, followed by her daughter, McKenzie. “Greg, Hannah, you have guests. People need to be assured you’re fine.”

  “Leave it, Mother,” Greg said. “Please.”

  “Leave what? I don’t see why you’re making such a deal over a silly practical joke. It might not even have been a joke. The head came off when the box was moved. I’ll admit it was shocking, at the time, but the fuss is over now. Not helped one bit by that woman who acted as though something was crawling out of its grave after her.”

  McKenzie laughed. No one else joined in.

  “That someone,” Jenny snapped, “is my cousin, Alice. As you well know, Sophia. If you’d been sitting where she was, I’m sure you’d have acted the same.”

  “Unlikely,” McKenzie said. “My mom doesn’t do drama.”

  Sophia ignored them both. “Hannah, dry those tears and let’s return to the party. People are concerned.”

  “I. Really. Do. Not. Care”—Jenny tightened her arm around her daughter and threw daggers at the other woman—“whether or not you and your self-obsessed, stuck-up relatives are concerned. Which, by the way, I don’t believe they are. All they’re after is fodder for the gossip mill at the country club.”

  “I wouldn’t say we’re stuck-up,” McKenzie said. “But self-obsessed, yeah, we can be that.”

  It wasn’t easy but I managed to keep my face impassive. What was with these people? All this squabbling was bad enough, but to do it in front of a total stranger.

  “You’re not helping,” Greg said to his sister.

  “Not trying to help. I thought it was fun. Added some drama to a boooring afternoon.”

  “That comment was way out of line, Jenny.” Ralph Reynolds joined us. He’d been first in line at the makeshift bar, and carried a glass of champagne in his right hand. “Apologize to Sophia.”

  The look on Jenny’s face indicated she would do nothing of the sort.

  “Oh, goodie,” McKenzie said. “Champagne’s being served. At last.” She slipped away, chuckling at her own wit.

  “It’s all right, darling,” Sophia said to her husband. “Hannah’s upset. Let her be upset. All that fuss and bother about nothing. They can do what they want.” She slipped her arm through her husband’s. “People are watching us. We need to join our guests. Come along, Greg, darling. You can make Hannah’s apologies.”

  He hesitated. Hannah lifted a tear-streaked face to look at her intended.

  “Time’s come, my boy,” Jenny said in a low voice. “Time for you to decide, once and for all.”

  Greg hesitated, for a fraction of a second, then he stretched his neck, pulled his shoulders back, and straightened his spine. I didn’t know him at all, but to me, standing quietly on the sidelines as the family drama played out, it was obvious he’d come to a decision. “It’s okay, Dad, Mom. You take care of our guests. I’ll see Hannah and Jenny get up to the house okay.”

  Ralph’s face tightened. Sophia sighed and gave her son a stiff smile. “Of course, dear. And so you should. Come along, Ralph. Try not to drink all the champagne before our guests can enjoy some, will you.”

  They walked away. Jenny let out a long breath. Greg put his arm around Hannah, and her mother stepped away. “You okay, babe?” he asked.

  Hannah wiped at her eyes. “I will be. If you stay with me.”

  “Always,” he said. Holding each other close, they walked slowly down the driveway toward Victoria-on-Sea.

  “Glad to hear it,” Jenny muttered. She might have intended to speak only to herself, but I heard. She gave me a rueful grin. “In-laws. Always drama. Greg’s a good boy, and he loves my daughter to pieces. As he should. But, sometimes, he doesn’t stand up to his parents as much as a soon-to-be married son should. I’m sorry you had to witness that, Lily.”

  I could say nothing in response to that, so I didn’t.

  “Jenny.” The bridesmaid came out of the patio. “Is Hannah okay? Do you need anything?”

  “She’s going to sit down for a few minutes, and I’m going to follow. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like, Samantha.”

  “Thanks, I will. Sophia’s doing a good enough job of pretending everything’s okay. What happened there? Everyone asked me, but I didn’t know what to say.”

  Jenny just shook her head and hurried after the young couple. Samantha threw me a questioning glance and then went after her.

  I turned to have a quick look at the patio before following. Bernie was moving between the tables, pouring champagne, while Marybeth made the rounds with the teapots, and Cheryl laid out the dessert platters. There wasn’t much laughing going on, and voices sounded pinched and tense. Sophia plunged into the party, attempting to calm everyone, chatting cheerfully, laughing lightly, once again the consummate hostess. Ralph stopped Bernie and held out his glass for a refill.

  McKenzie came through the gate once again. She had a glass of wine, bubbles dancing cheerfully, in each hand. She saw me watching, but said nothing. She rounded the low stone wall enclosing the tearoom patio and headed in the general direction of the shed, where Simon had taken the unwanted gift.

  I’d earlier noticed McKenzie attempting to flirt with Simon, while he pretended not to notice and paid her no more attention than he did to any of the other ladies who wanted to talk gardening with him.

  Simon, I figured, could handle himself, and my staff (and Bernie) clearly had everything under control. I broke into a run to reach the house at the same time as my guests.

  Chapter 4

  I showed Hannah and the others into the drawing room. “Tea?” I asked.

  “A glass of water would be fine,” Hannah said. “If you don’t mind?”

  “Of course I don’t mind. Anyone else?”

  “Water’d be good, thanks,” Greg said.

  “Nothing for me,” Samantha, the bridesmaid, said. She was not far off Bernie’s height of almost six feet, and very thin, with long gangly arms and legs. Her hair was died a deep black and cut perfectly straight at the line of her chin, with thick bangs covering her eyebrows. The skin on her heart-shaped face was pale, except for a patch of red on her pert nose where she hadn’t applied enough sunscreen.

  Hannah dropped onto the couch with a sigh. Greg sat next to her and took her hand. I slipped out.

  Everything had happened so fast, I hadn’t had time to think about it. But as I went down the hall to the kitchen, got out a tray and glasses, and filled a pitcher with ice and water, I thought.

  That had been no practical joke, and the doll’s head hadn’t fallen off in the box as Sophia suggested. Dolls’ heads don’t become detached with a bit of shaking. It hadn’t been an ordinary doll, either, something bought last week at a toy store. These days Raggedy Ann dolls are collector’s items or, if newly made, often purchased for sentimental reasons.

  I could understand how shocked and upset Hannah had been, but there was more to it, I thought. She hadn’t laughed the incident off, or even gotten mad at whoever’d done such a thing. I remembered the look on her face when she first saw it. She’d been genuinely horrified.

  Back in the drawing room, Hannah and Greg sat close together on the couch, gripping hands. Jenny stood at the window, looking out over the wide veranda to the gardens. The bridesmaid ran to help me when I came in with the tray and glasses. “This is a gorgeous house. Is it yours?”

  “My grandmother’s,” I said.

  “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry,” Greg said. “Your grandmother. I forgot about her and left her at the party.”

  “She’s fine,” I said. “She’s far fitter than she sometimes pretends to be. But thank you for thinking of her.” Samantha poured water, and I handed around glasses.

  Hannah lifted her head and gave me a weak smile as she accepted a glass. “Thank you. I’m sorry to cause such a fuss.”

  “No bother at all. I’m sorry your shower ended that way. You’re welcome to remain here as long as you like, if you don’t feel like going back to the party. Greg and his family are staying here. Are you and your mom at a hotel?”

  “We’re at the Pierside Hotel,” Jenny said, referring to one of the nicest hotels in North Augusta, located next to the pier that marked the center of town. “Hannah and I.”

  “The peasantry, meaning Jenny’s friends and the rest of her family, are at the misnamed Oceanview,” the bridesmaid said. “It might have a view of the ocean if you go onto the roof and climb a very long ladder. It’s not as bad as it first appeared. Sorry, we haven’t met. I’m Samantha Dowling, commonly called Sam or, as Greg’s mother says, ‘Who are you, again, dear?’ ”

  “Lily Roberts.”

  “I’m sorry I spoiled your party, Mom,” Hannah said.

  Jenny snorted. “You didn’t spoil anything. Whoever gave you that doll spoiled it. And it wasn’t my party anyway, as we all know, but Sophia’s. She graciously allowed me to think I had some input and to invite a couple of my own friends. Sorry, Greg, but that’s how it was.”

  “How it always is, with my mom.” He stroked Hannah’s pale hand. “She learned that skill very quickly from the master herself—my grandmother. Do you . . . want to talk about it, babe?”

  “I’ll leave you now,” I said. “Make yourselves at home and, as I said, stay as long as you need.”

  “Stay, please,” Hannah said. “You and your staff were so kind and did such a wonderful job making everything perfect for me. I feel I owe you an explanation.”

  “You do not,” I said.

  But, I have to admit, I was curious.

  She sipped her water. The drawing room at Victoria-on-Sea is used as a common room for B & B guests. It’s a big, comfortable room with plenty of chairs and sofas, a table for playing cards in rainy weather, and a big desk in case someone wants to write a letter or get work done while looking out over the gardens. Old board games and well-thumbed paperback books fill the shelves.

  Hannah nodded toward one of those games. “Clue. We used to play Clue for hours, when Dad was alive. Do you remember, Mom?”

  “I certainly do,” Jenny said. “Your father loved that game.”

  “One of the things, one of the many things, I’m loving about being back in your life, Jenny, other than Hannah of course, is playing games,” Greg said. “Board games, cards. We never had much of that in my family. My mom plays tennis, of course. Gotta keep up with the country club set, don’cha know. She never had any interest in teaching me to play. My mom never had a lot of interest in teaching me anything . . .” His voice trailed off.

  I’d taken a seat, thinking as I’d been invited to stay, it would be polite to make light conversation for a few minutes and then go back to work. This conversation had gotten uncomfortably intimate very quickly.

  “That doll,” Samantha said at last. “The head was cut off deliberately. It must have been. You know that, Hannah.”

  “Yeah. I figured.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Jenny said.

  “We have to,” Hannah replied.

  “I’ve never had one,” Samantha said, “but I recognized it as a Raggedy Ann doll. Hugely popular in the early twentieth century, I believe. If you don’t mind my asking, does a doll like that mean something to you, Hannah? Something in particular? Aside from the damage, I mean.”

  “I don’t—” Jenny began.

  “It’s okay, Mom,” Hannah said. Some of the color was returning to her cheeks and her breathing was settling into a regular pattern. “I kinda overreacted, I guess.”

  “You did not,” Greg said. “I remember when we were in a toy store a couple of months ago, getting a present for your friend’s new baby. You saw a doll like that and told me you had a similar one when you were young, right? You kept it on your bed for years.”

  Hannah nodded.

  “I remember.” Jenny’s voice was low and tinged with sadness. “You so loved that doll.”

  Greg turned to me. “Perhaps I should explain some of the drama surrounding our families. Hannah’s late father, Max, worked for my dad for years, at the company my family owns. More than just that he worked there, he and my dad were close friends. They had a falling-out, I never really found out why. It happened before Hannah or I was even born.”

  Jenny shifted uncomfortably in her chair but said nothing.

  “We live in a small town not far from Boston, where the company’s offices are located,” Greg said. “Small towns, everyone knows everyone else, right? It’s hard to avoid people you’d prefer not to see.”

  “Max and I ran into Sophia and Ralph on occasion,” Jenny said. “They were always icily polite to us, but nothing more. Max left the company shortly after he and Ralph . . . fell out, as Greg puts it.”

  “Hannah’s dad died when she was . . . how old were you, honey?” Greg asked.

  “Ten,” Hannah said.

  “They moved away not long after that. And then, about a year ago, Hannah and I ran into each other at a mutual friend’s party in Boston.” He smiled. “We got to chatting and realized we remembered each other from school and . . .” He took her hand. “Here we are today.”

  “That doll, the one in the box, was downright creepy,” Samantha said. “A mean trick. We couldn’t find a card to go with the box, so whoever sent it doesn’t intend to claim responsibility. My money”—she looked directly at Greg—“is on McKenzie.”

  “No,” Greg said. “That would be way too subtle for her. My dear sister thinks she’s so clever, and she likes to make a big splash.”

  “I’d say whoever sent that doll made a big splash,” Samantha said.

  “Who else then?” Jenny said. “Who would have done something like that? Did anyone see who brought it?”

  “One of my staff found it by the gate and brought it in,” I said. “She didn’t see anyone with it.”

  The room fell silent. Greg and Jenny looked at each other for a long time.

  I shifted in my seat and was about to stand, when Greg spoke again. “It’s no secret my parents aren’t wild about Hannah and me getting married, but they wouldn’t do anything like that. Not this late in the game. I mean, the wedding’s the day after tomorrow. The guests are gathering, the venue and catering have been paid for.”

  “There’s got to be more behind this,” Samantha said. “I mean, a headless doll is mighty creepy, but it wasn’t just a doll to you, was it, Han?”

  Hannah shuddered. She glanced at her mother, sitting stiff and tight-lipped at the chair by the big bay window. Past her, I could see a few cars pulling out of the parking area, and people saying their good-byes by the patio gate prior to heading for their own cars. Greg’s brother and another young man, along with two women, walked up the steps to the veranda. Ivan carried an ice bucket containing a bottle of champagne. They dropped into chairs and stretched out their legs.

  “Not long before he died,” Hannah said, “my dad gave me a Raggedy Ann doll. A real old-fashioned-looking one, with a round, soft face, and curly red hair made out of yarn, and big black feet. I loved that doll. Do you remember, Mom?”