Neither Caroline nor I spoke on the drive back to Udderly. I barely saw the road in front of me and had to snap myself to attention when I pulled into Farm Lane, which was jammed with people and cars. I pulled up to the house.
Caroline said, “Riley, what do they say in old movies? I feel the net tightening around me.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Caroline,” I said, but the words died in my throat. A Penniman police SUV pulled in behind us. Voelker got out and walked up to the passenger window, his eyes hidden behind his mirrored sunglasses. “Miss Spooner, will you please come with me?” he said. Now she was “Miss Spooner.”
“I’m coming too,” I said, scrambling from the car.
“Not necessary, Ms. Rhodes.”
“Detective Voelker”—Caroline’s voice was barely a whisper as she got out—“do I need a lawyer? Are you arresting me?”
“No, I’m not arresting you,” he said, more gently, as he shut her door. “But you may wish to have a lawyer present while you’re questioned.”
Caroline looked to me in a panic. “Riley, I don’t have a lawyer.”
“I’ll ask Dad.” I knew what she was thinking. Kyle was Mike’s friend, but there was no way she’d trust him after learning about his duplicity in the real estate deal.
I felt numb watching Voelker take Caroline away. Heads turned as the police SUV inched through the crowds. Pru ran up to me and put her strong hands on my shoulders. “What happened?”
I told her what Angelica had told the police. “Pru, Caroline needs a lawyer.”
“Wasn’t Kyle Aldridge just here?” Pru said.
“She wants someone else.”
Pru’s eyebrows knitted together, then she pulled her phone from her pocket. “I know someone. I delivered her twins. She and her husband are lawyers. I’ll call and see if one of them can help Caroline.”
The focus of the police investigation had shifted to Caroline. Voelker’s being thorough, I thought. You expected this, didn’t you?
Pru squeezed my arm. “Riley, you’re pale. Let’s get you something to eat and drink. The shop will be fine.” She dragged me up the steps of Buzzy’s house. I fished in my bag for the key, unlocked the door, and we went into the kitchen. Pru placed some calls as I paced, Rocky at my heels.
“I texted Caroline and told her to expect my friend.” Pru brewed tea and gave me some cheese and crackers from the refrigerator as I picked up Rocky and nuzzled him against my chest, glad he allowed me this comfort. Sprinkles sat at the window, surveying the crowd, resigned to the invasion of her kingdom. She always gave Pru space—one queen recognizing another.
I spilled everything that had been happening and Pru’s eyes grew wide as she listened. “So Angelica’s innocent and was the victim of the same person who put the sleeping pills in the wine?” Pru asked. “Did Caroline take sleeping pills?”
“No. Wait. She told me she took one the night of the funeral.” I remembered seeing a bottle in the house. “Buzzy took them.” I dashed upstairs, grabbed the bottle from Buzzy’s nightstand, and brought it downstairs.
I poured its contents into a dish. “The bottle says twenty pills but there are only ten.”
Pru checked the label. “These expired a year ago!”
“I know that and you know that, but everything makes Caroline look guilty.”
I paced the dull linoleum floor, Rocky pouncing at my heels thinking my pacing was a game. Caroline’s fight with Mike. The wine. The pills. Her—I stopped. I wouldn’t mention the scarf to Pru. Why, when I was certain Mike must’ve picked it up accidentally when he left the kitchen that night?
I remembered the oil painting Caroline had worked on. “Pru, Caroline started a landscape before the funeral. The next day it was almost finished. She couldn’t have done that much if she’d been up at the Love Nest.” Some alibi. Voelker would never buy it, but I knew my friend was a slow and deliberate painter.
My biggest worry of all was that Caroline had a motive to kill Mike. “The night Mike died, Caroline and he argued. When he left she said, ‘I could kill him.’”
Pru squeezed my hand. “Darwin said those exact words, too, and I know he wouldn’t have done it either.”
The killer wanted to make sure it would be easy to kill Mike by drugging him. That might have ruled out Darwin. I couldn’t see him doing something sneaky like poisoning wine.
“My head hurts.” I texted Caroline but she didn’t answer.
Willow knocked on the doorjamb as she walked in. “Mom, the cash register at the stand isn’t working and no one can figure out how to fix it.”
Pru stood. “Duty calls. We’ll talk when Caroline’s back home.”