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“Marcie can take care of the library, and I’m sure Dad will find a replacement.”

Mom nodded and took a seat at the table.“So are you going to ask Gabi what’s really on your mind? Are you going to ask her advice about finally picking a wedding date?”

“I might,” said Odelia carefully. She and her boyfriend Chase had gotten engaged months before, but had never really talked about a timetable for the wedding, figuring they had plenty of time to figure things out.

“What’s holding you back, exactly?” asked Mom with a look of concern. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“No, of course not. I love Chase, and I want to get married. It’s just that…”

“Yes?”

“I don’t know. The topic hasn’t come up since he first asked me.”

“He did ask you in a strange way, if I remember correctly.”

“He did.” She smiled at the recollection. They’d been in England at the time, at the invitation of Prince Dante and his wife Tessa, who was being targeted by an unknown assailant. There had been a tense moment at some point where Tessa had been under attack. Shots were fired and Chase and Odelia ducked for cover. It was at this moment that Chase had proposed, and Odelia said yes, fearing their final hour had struck.

“I guess we figured we had plenty of time to get married, and why rush into things?”

“No, of course,” said Mom. “I just wondered, that’s all.”

Odelia didn’t want to admit it, but she had wondered, too. Wondered why Chase had never mentioned marriage again after their return from England. Had he regretted proposing to her and was that the reason he’d never concretized his plans?

Mom patted her hand.“You know? I think you and Chase should have a long talk about this.”

“Yeah, about that… I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. What if he doesn’t want to get married? Where will that leave me?”

“But don’t you want to know about his plans?”

She nodded. She did want to know.

“Oh, you think he’s having second thoughts, and if you ask him and he tells you the wedding is off you’ll regret asking the question, is that it? Because now you’re still engaged, and as long as you don’t talk about it, it stays that way?”

She nodded sheepishly.“Sounds pretty lame when you put it like that.”

“Oh, honey. I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. I know for a fact that Chase is still crazy about you. I can tell from the way he looks at you. But don’t you agree it’s better to discuss this with him than go on wondering how he feels about the proposal?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” she said reluctantly.

“Or do you want me to have a chat with him?”

“No, it’s fine, Mom. Next time we go out to dinner I was thinking I could slip it in.”

“Between the main course and dessert, you mean?” said Mom with a twinkle in her eye.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Mom laughed.“Oh, honey. I’m sure he’ll be happy to talk about getting married to you. Just you wait and see.”

She nodded as she traced a pattern in a little pile of spilled salt on the kitchen table. What if the reason Chase hadn’t talked about the wedding was that he regretted having proposed to her in the first place and didn’t know how to break the bad news?

Chapter 4

Vesta, Scarlett and their hostess hurried up the stairs, followed by Miss Gray’s dazed-looking niece who kept muttering, as she stared at her bloodied hands, “I killed him. I actually killed Kirk.”

Allison Gray led the way into a room off to the side and there, lying on the floor looking pretty dead, was a man whose appearance looked vaguely familiar to Vesta. He had a big old knife sticking out of his chest, and an expression on his face that told a story of being startled by the sudden fate that had befallen him.

“He looks dead,” Scarlett aptly concluded. “In fact he looks deader than dead.”

Vesta would have argued no one could possibly be deader than dead, since being dead was sufficiently fatal already, but their hostess had suddenly started screaming so this didn’t seem like a good time to teach Scarlett about the facts of life and death.

“Why, Mia!” Allison cried. “Why did you do it?!”

Her words were directed at her niece, who’d come tottering down the stairs and who now came staggering into the room.

“I… I don’t know,” Mia said. “I don’t actually remember stabbing him, but I must have.”

“What do you mean, you don’t remember?” asked Vesta.

“I was asleep in the next room,” said the girl. “And when I woke up I was sitting next to Kirk, my hands covered with his blood. Only…” She frowned, as if trying to recollect.

“Only what?” Vesta prompted.

But Mia, who was svelte and fair-haired and looked like a nymph, shook her head.“Nothing. It’s all a big blur.”

“Who is he?” asked Scarlett, gesturing to the dead man. “He looks familiar.”

“Kirk Weaver,” said Allison Gray. “The cat whisperer.”

“Of course!” said Vesta. “I thought I recognized him. He’s got that show.”