“Charles,” I croaked. “I have to go to Charles.”
The poor cat was attempting to throw himself through the living room door.
“He can wait,” Holly Rankin said. “You need to stay here. The detective’ll be here in a couple of minutes.”
I changed tactics. “I’m feeling faint. I need to lie down. My throat hurts. I need a … cough, cough … glass of water.”
She eyed me suspiciously and then said, “Oh, all right.”
A second police car had arrived moments after the first, and Diane, screaming that it was all my fault, had been hustled away, hands cuffed behind her back. Butch was taking statements from the onlookers and Holly stayed with me, helping me search for my phone. We eventually found it, trampled underfoot and half buried in the sand.
As the stairs to the deck hadn’t been installed yet, I had to throw my upper body onto the planks and wiggle myself up.
“Feeling faint, are you?” Holly said as she, stronger than me, used her arms to hoist her body.
I opened the door and scooped Charles up. He licked my face. “One more time,” I said, “the … cough, cough … hero of the day.”
“Considering he was inside and you were outside,” Holly said, “I don’t see how that worked.”
The back door crashed open, footsteps pounded down the hall, and Connor yelled, “Lucy!”
“Here.” The words came out as a broken squeak rather than the confident shout I’d intended.
And then I was in his arms, Charles’s solid body being crushed between us.
“Sorry.” I pulled myself away and put the cat down. He leapt up onto the windowsill to watch sea gulls swoop over the beach. I melted into Connor’s arms again. Behind us, I could hear Holly Rankin shifting her feet.
“What on earth happened this time?” Connor said into my hair. “When I saw cars tearing out of the police station lot and then my phone started ringing, I knew it had to be about you.”
“Sorry about that,” I mumbled. “Diane Uppiton tried to make me think our house was haunted, and then she killed Jimmy Harper and tried to kill me.” I coughed. My throat felt like it had been rubbed down with a good quantity of beach sand.
“Why?” Connor said.
“Why indeed?” Sam Watson had followed Connor in. “First, Lucy, are you all right? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
I touched my throat. I took a deep breath and sucked in fire. “I’m … cough, cough. Sore, but no harm done.”
“If you’re sure,” he said. “Officer Rankin, get some pictures of that throat. It’s already bruising up.”
Connor growled.
“Try not to talk too much. I’ll get a statement from you when you’re ready,” Watson said. “You and Connor go into the kitchen. I want to check what’s happening outside, and then I’ll join you.”
Holly followed Connor and me into the kitchen. She made me stand under the lights and snapped pictures of my throat while Connor put the kettle on and got the teapot out.
Pictures taken, Rankin went back outside, and I dropped heavily into a stool at the island. I hoped never to see those pictures. Charles soon lost interest in the activities outside and wandered into the kitchen to settle into his cat bed for a nap.
“Diane Uppiton,” Connor said, as he put a cup of hot, fragrant liquid in front of me. “I never would have thought it. Why did you—” He lifted one hand. “No, don’t talk. Save it for Sam, and if you can’t talk, tell him he’ll have to wait.”
“Paper,” I croaked. “Pen.”
He got them for me. I put my phone on the table and said, “Recording.” I jotted down a quick outline of what I’d guessed and what Diane had told me.
Watson soon came in and pulled up a stool. He read my notes and nodded grimly. I indicated the phone, and he said, “Let’s hear it, then.”
I pressed the buttons. The recording wasn’t good, but it should be good enough, particularly when Diane’s voice started rising with her rage. Watson’s face remained impassive, but when she confessed to killing Jimmy with Charles’s leash, his eyebrows rose a fraction.
“Pretty open-and-shut case,” Connor said, when he could speak again.
“She’ll plead diminished responsibility, most likely,” Watson said.
She’s crazy, I wrote.
“Fortunately,” Watson said, “that will not be up to me to determine.”
Through the kitchen windows, I’d seen a constant stream of people coming and going—not only police and forensics people but neighbors and curious passersby. A loud rap sounded at the side door, and Connor opened it. My aunt Ellen and uncle Amos stood there, mouths agape.
“Lucy,” Aunt Ellen said, “We heard what happened. You were attacked by Diane Uppiton? Why on earth?”
“Allegedly attacked,” Uncle Amos, a criminal defense attorney, said.
“Attacked,” Connor said firmly. “The news traveled fast.”
“As it does,” Ellen said. “I was volunteering at the library today, and a patron called to tell us she was on the beach near your house and there was a significant amount of police activity and Diane Uppiton, of all people, had been taken away in handcuffs and Lucy was observed being assisted by police.”
“You left—” I croaked.
“Don’t talk,” Connor ordered.
I wrote it down: You left the library desk unattended?
Connor read the message aloud.
“We’ve closed the library for the rest of the day.” Bertie came into the kitchen, followed by Ronald, Louise Jane, and Denise. “Our patrons are used to us being shut down by the police for an investigation, so we closed early and came here.”
“I heard about it from Stephanie,” Uncle Amos said. “Who was leaving the police station after seeing a client when Diane Uppiton was brought in, looking madder than a wet hen and obviously under arrest.”
“Diane Uppiton attacked Lucy,” Louise Jane said.
“Allegedly,” Uncle Amos said.
“I knew she was up to something,” Louise Jane continued. “I didn’t act fast enough, and I’m sorry, Lucy. Next time I’ll be on my guard.”
I shook my head, trying to say there would be no next time.
“Although,” she said, “as I might have speculated before, one has to wonder if on occasion paranormal forces are behind people’s apparently irrational actions.”
“Diane never needed any outside influences to be a nasty person,” Bertie said. “She managed that all by herself.”
“Allegedly,” Uncle Amos said, as once again no one paid him any attention.
“Beer, Amos?” Connor said.
“Don’t mind if I do,” my uncle replied.
“It’s awful early in the day, but a beer would be nice,” Louise Jane said.
“You’ve done a good job on the kitchen,” Bertie said. “I like the way you tore down the wall between it and the living room. Gives you a lovely view from so many angles.”
“Furniture would be nice,” Ronald said. He wandered into the living room to watch the police activity on the beach.
“As long as I’m serving drinks …” Connor said. “Can I get you a glass of wine, Bertie?”
“Thank you.” She pulled up a stool and sat.
The kitchen door opened one more time, and Josie’s head popped in. “Knock, knock?”
“Come on in,” Connor said.
“Hi, Mom, Dad. Goodness, Lucy, you look awful.”
“Thanks,” I choked. I put my hand to my hair and felt a mess of curls and sand.
“No talking,” Connor and Bertie chorused.
“I thought you might like lunch,” Josie said. “So I grabbed some things on my way out.”
I smiled at my cousin. Josie believed food was the answer to every problem. She was usually right.
How did YOU hear? I wrote on the pad while Josie put her offerings on the island, and Connor placed a roll of paper towels next to it so everyone could dig in. Josie’d brought a selection of sandwiches, muffins, and containers of fruit salad. Connor poured wine and got more beer bottles and jugs of water and tea out of the fridge.
“Mom called to tell me something was going on out this way,” Josie said. “Needless to say, we all assumed it had something to do with Lucy.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. As though I were a magnet for nefarious goings-on.
I touched my throat. Maybe I was. I took a wineglass and reached for the bottle. Aunt Ellen snatched it away. “Water for you, my girl, until we’re sure you have no aftereffects.” She poured me a drink from the jug. I pouted at her but accepted the glass.
“Is the party still on for later in the week?” Louise Jane asked as she munched on a ham-and-cheese sandwich.
“Party?” Connor said.
“Party?” I squeaked.
“The housewarming party you told me about.”
Connor threw a question at me, and I shrugged. I’d forgotten about that. “I think that’s been changed to today,” he said. “As in, we’re having it right now. Wine, Josie?”
“Not for me, thanks. I need to get back soon. I just wanted to be sure Lucy was okay.”
I gave her a grateful smile. I looked around the kitchen and out into the front rooms. So many people loved me. My throat tightened, and this time it was not from the pressure of Diane Uppiton’s fingers.
Fred and Marie McNeil were next to arrive. “Any more damage to that deck,” Fred said, “and I’m going on strike. I can’t keep repairing it.”
“Yes, you can, dear.” Marie put a cake dome on the island and lifted the lid to show a chocolate bunt cake nestling within. “I was finishing this when Fred called to me, so I brought it with us. Let me see that.” She leaned close to me and peered at my throat. “How does it feel?”
“Okay,” I squawked.
“Doesn’t sound it,” Fred said from the depths of the freezer. “Any ice cream in here to go with the cake? Never mind, here it is.”
“I got here as fast as I could.” Stephanie Stanton was next to let herself in. “I called Butch for an update, and he told me they’ve made an arrest in the Jimmy Harper killing and for the attempted murder of Lucy. Glad to see you’re still hale and hearty, Lucy.”
“Reasonably,” I sputtered.
“Don’t talk.” Connor said.
The bell rang yet again, and as Fred was closest, he went to answer. He came back with Ralph Harper.
“Haven’t been this many people in this house for many a year,” Ralph said. “It suits the old place. My mother used to love to talk about the grand parties they’d had when she was a girl. Kitchen looks nice.” Ralph glanced around the open rooms. He nodded with such satisfaction his beard shook. “He’s gone.”
“Who’s gone?” Connor asked.
“Ezekiel Froomer. My granddaddy.”
“You knew he was here!” Louise Jane squealed. “How long did you—”
I gave my head a shake, and Connor caught it. “Not now,” he said. “Beer, Ralph?”
“Don’t mind if I do.” Ralph helped himself to a slice of cake. “I hear tell someone’s been arrested for Jimmy’s murder. Friend of mind whose daughter works at the police station as a civilian clerk called me. It’s some woman I don’t even know.” He took a bite of cake and then narrowed his eyes and squinted at me. “You don’t look too good, Miss Lucy.”
“Sore throat,” Aunt Ellen said.
“Most of the excitement’s died down,” Ronald called from the windows, where Denise had gone to join him. “A few cops still poking around in the sand below your deck. Hard to get evidence off sand, I’d assume.”
“You’d be surprised what they can do these days,” Louise Jane said.
The doorbell rang one more time, and Josie said, “I’ll get it.”
She slipped down the hall while Connor mumbled, “Might as well prop the door open and hang a sign that says come on in.”
Josie returned, accompanied by Theodore Kowalski.
“What on earth is going on here?” he asked. “Vehicles are lined up all along the street, never mind police cars and a van, and cops wandering around.” He looked at the arrangement of sandwiches, the cake, the jugs and bottles and glasses. He looked at Connor and my family and friends, my coworkers, Ralph Harper. “Are you having a party? In the middle of the day?”
“Beer?” Connor said.
“Thank you.”
“Can’t talk,” I croaked. I wrote on my pad: You didn’t come because you heard about it?
He peered at me through his clear-glass spectacles. “Heard about what? Why can’t you talk? Never mind, you can tell me later. I called the library this morning, and Louise Jane told me you wouldn’t be in. I had to come into town for some shopping anyway, so I thought it might be a good time to stop by.” He accepted a bottle from Connor. “Seems I was right.” He tilted the bottle toward Connor, who clinked it with his. “Cheers, old chap. Cheers, everyone.”
“Cheers,” they chorused.
Cheers, I wrote.
“Meow,” Charles said.
It was the middle of the day in the middle of the week, and one at a time everyone said their good-byes and went back to what they’d been doing. Fred said he’d be around in the morning to fix the railings of the deck, and Bertie, Marie, and Ellen told me to call if I needed anything. Josie, Steph, Uncle Amos, and Ronald wrapped me in hugs as they left. Denise said to Bertie, “I wonder if many of these old houses have secret passageways. Might be worth finding out.” Louise Jane hesitated and then threw out her arms and enveloped me. “Oh, Lucy. I don’t know what we’d do if we lost you. Now remember, call me if anything happens. Dramatic events can latently rouse supernatural forces.”
Ralph Harper made to leave, saying, “Jo’s out on the beach with her friend. She’ll want to hear you’re okay, Miss Lucy.”
Stay a while, I wrote on my pad. Judging by the secret grin on Theodore’s face, the way he bounced on his toes as though he couldn’t contain his excitement, and the constant patting of his jacket pocket, I suspected Theodore had something to tell us.
Connor peeled Louise Jane off me and politely showed her to the door. He slammed the door shut after her, turned around, and leaned against it with a heavy sigh. “Okay, Teddy, what’s up?”
Theodore grinned at us. “I see Lucy isn’t the only detective in this family. Yes, I have something of importance to tell you.”