“That sounds right.” Birdie dried her hands and faced me. Wide-rimmed, round glasses covered half of her face, showing her faded blue eyes. “Did you want to see the refrigerator? I heard that Gloria sued Fiona.” She clucked and shook her head.
There were no secrets in Silverville. “Yeah. I need to get to the office and type up an Answer, but thought I’d check out the fridge first.”
She pointed toward the back wall. “That’s the one. I’ve got the only key now.”
The industrial fridge stood tall and solid, humming low. It looked like it could outlive us all. I crossed the tile and laid a hand on the heavy chrome handle. The lock shone, newer than the rest of it, and the seal looked tight, uncut.
“Has anyone been in here since the contest?” I asked.
“No one but me,” Birdie said. “I opened it this morning. Everything’s exactly how we left it.”
I crouched and checked the hinges, scanning the floor for scuffs or crumbs, looking for anything that didn’t fit. Nothing. Just cold air and metal. “I don’t see any scratches.” I turned to look at her. “Is there any chance someone has a spare key?”
She shrugged narrow shoulders. “Not that I’ve heard. Aiden asked the same question.”
I figured he’d been by earlier. “Did he see anything off?”
“No.” She wiped her hands on a towel. “He’s a handsome one, Anna. I know both of your grandmothers would like to see you married. After Tessa, of course.”
I barely kept from sighing. “So they said.” I studied Birdie. “Did you grow up in Silverville?” Sure, she’d always been around during my childhood, but that didn’t mean she came from the valley.
“Yes. My family moved here when I was in elementary school.” Her lips tipped up. “Not a lot has changed.”
I wasn’t sure about that. More and more people kept moving in, raising the property values and creating tax problems. “Did you know my grandmothers growing up?”
“Yes. Well, kind of. I was about five years older than them, but it’s a small town.” She pushed a strand of light gray hair over her shoulder. “Why do you ask?”
The words had never been said, but it felt like we’d all been ordered never to delve into why our grandmothers didn’t like each other. “I’m trying to figure out why Nonna and Nana have never been close.”
Both of Birdie’s eyebrows rose. “What are you talking about?”
Crap. So she didn’t know. Did anybody outside of the family know that the two weren’t the best of friends? “I’m not sure.” That was a lame response.
Birdie waved a hand. “Oh, there’s always been a good-natured rivalry between the Italians and the Irish here in town. You’re probably sensitive to that, considering you’re half of each.”
I nodded vigorously, feeling like I’d almost let out a family secret. “That makes sense.”
The door to the kitchen swung open, letting in a gust of cool, rain-soaked air that smelled faintly of espresso and expensive perfume.
“Buongiorno,” came the warm, melodic voice that could still hush a room. Nonna stepped inside, trench coat belted at the waist, a pale blue scarf tied loosely over her dark hair. Even in her sixties, she looked like Sophia Loren had wandered off a film set and into the Elks Lodge kitchen.
Birdie turned from the counter with an easy grin. “Elda Albertini. I was wondering when you’d show up. There’s a pie saboteur afoot, you know.”
“Birdie, my dear,” Nonna said, crossing the floor to kiss her friend on both cheeks. “That was kind of you to allow Donna to take my place at last month’s bridge game. I was on a case, you know.”
Birdie laughed, swatting at her with the towel. “I enjoyed teaching Donna. She bids like a gambler and bluffs like a saint. That girl doesn’t stand a chance.”
Nonna smiled indulgently. “Then it’s good you taught her. You have always been lucky with cards.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it,” Birdie said. “I practice.”
“You always do.” Nonna turned, her gaze sweeping the room before landing on me. “There’s my sweet granddaughter and brilliant lawyer.”
I set down the clipboard I’d been using to take notes. “Hi again, Nonna. I think I have this covered.”
Nonna slipped off her gloves, her tone light but her brown eyes sharp. “I spoke with my two partners this morning. The Three Hens are taking Fiona O’Shea’s cases.”
I blinked. “Both of them?”
