Alicia sniffed. “This crowd will probably do more drinking than eating. Seems to be their way, if the past week is any indication.”
“Well, you have to admit this has been a strange week,” I said, before steeling myself to make a request. “Listen, I know it’s not in your job descriptions, but could you help me out with the activity for this evening? I wondered if you would be willing to at least sit in on that part of the event.” I pressed my palms together in front of my chest, as if in prayer. “It might help the atmosphere to have you in the room. Lessen the tension between the guests and all that.”
“I’d say no, but since you’ve been kind enough to keep me employed, even after my meltdown last week, I guess I owe you that much,” Damian said.
Alicia made a face. “All right, if you insist.”
“Thank you. Now, we’d better get a move on. The guests should arrive any minute.”
Scott was waiting in the library when we carried in the food and drinks. He helped Alicia and Damian adjust the seating while I hurried to answer the ringing doorbell.
The Sandberg sisters were the first to arrive. I had to stifle an urge to laugh when I saw they were both wearing deerstalker hats.
“How apropos,” I said, after welcoming them inside.
“We thought it would be fun to get into the spirit of things,” Ophelia said. “Although Bernie drew the line at wearing long coats.”
“Too darn hot for that,” Bernadette said, before turning to greet Pete and Sandy, and Julie, who’d all just appeared at the door.
Jennifer Delamont came down the stairs then, but paused on the bottom step when Julie stepped inside. She looked the younger woman up and down. “Surprised you have the gall to show up, Ms. Rivera.”
“And hello to you too, Ms. Delamont,” Julie said, not batting an eye. She strolled down the hall toward the library without waiting for a reply.
“I think everyone is here now, except for my neighbor, who’ll be here any minute,” I told Jennifer. “Oh yes, and the Rowleys, but they told me they’d be a little late. If you’d like to accompany me to the library …”
She made a derisive noise but followed me.
As we entered the library, I noticed that Julie had selected the seat next to Scott. Pete and Sandy had also chosen the wooden chairs, leaving the softer armchairs for the Sandberg sisters.
“Please, everyone, grab some snacks and drinks. I thought we could enjoy a little mixer before starting this evening’s event,” I said, motioning to the desk, which was once again serving as a table.
Of course, I was actually stalling for time, waiting for Ellen and the Rowleys before I dove into any leading questions that might help the authorities.
I surveyed the group, wondering what their own secrets might be. I wasn’t a trained investigator, or even an experienced amateur detective. It was possible I’d made false assumptions about everyone.
As all the guests—except Jennifer, who remained slumped in her chair—mingled over the food and drinks, I headed for the kitchen to remind Alicia and Damian to join us.
But as I walked down the hall, Ellen appeared at the back door. I hurried to let her in. “Ready for this?”
“Born ready,” Ellen said, giving my arm a pat. “Don’t worry. All you’re doing is asking questions and making comments. For anything beyond that”—she pointed to her chest—“we have backup.”
I nodded and told Ellen to wait in the hall while I asked Alicia and Damian to join us so we could walk into the library together.
“All right, if everyone can take a seat, we’ll get started,” I said, grabbing my folder of notes from one of the library shelves. I slipped the folder under my arm and poured myself a glass of water before sitting in a chair near the door. Ellen sat down next to me, while Alicia and Damian slipped behind the desk and remained standing.
Jennifer shifted in her chair, her expression darkening. “I don’t know about this. Discussing murder mysteries sounds too much like the misery I’ve already suffered through this week.”
Ophelia whipped off her wool hat and used it to fan her face. “It’s just a game.”
“Itisodd to be talking about fake murders when we have a real one that still needs to be solved,” Julie said, fixing Jennifer with an intense stare.
Jennifer threw up her hands. “I know you all think I killed Lincoln, but I didn’t. Honestly, I shouldn’t have agreed to this. I don’t appreciate being treated like a criminal when I’ve done nothing wrong.”
I glanced over at Ellen. The evening was going in a direction I hadn’t expected, but as we already seemed to be touching onsome of the questions Detective Johnson wanted me to raise, I had no intention of guiding things back onto the rails.
“Now, now,” Sandy said, in a soothing tone. “No one thinks that, Mrs. Delamont.”
“Oh good heavens, of course we do,” Bernadette snapped. “It’s usually the spouse in these situations, isn’t it? Not that I blame Mrs. Delamont in this case. In my opinion, that Lincoln fellow was enough of a jerk to deserve killing.”
