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Ivy played with the children as Flora set up a space for the babies to sleep. Kat paced the kitchen, talking to herself and sipping on hot tea.
“Ready,” Flora whispered.
Enoch was already upstairs tucked into bed. Flora retrieved Scout from the couch and took her to the master bedroom.
The boys claimed the TV seconds after the last infant left the living room. They switched on a video game console and debated which game to play first. Each was ecstatic to get away with gameplay in the middle of a school day. Usually, homework and chores came before everything other than family and God time. But, when the mothers were distracted, the boys were more than happy to forgo the norm and play instead.
Eloise fretted. She was the eldest of all the children. Being a new teenager in her freshman year of high school, a disruption to her school routine set her back. She decided to bring her independent work to her room and turn on some classical music. If she could force herself to concentrate for one full hour, only then would she allow herself to play with the other girls.
Ivy stayed with the moms in the dining room. Discussing whatever case they were working, trumped playing board games.
Jess and Eden grumped about in front of Eloise’s door. They were frustrated by Elli’s suddenly developed responsible streak. It stole the joy of random playdates. They teased the older girl until they were shushed by the “mom look” from Kat. Mumbling apologies, they sulked away to Eden’s room to pout together without supervision.
Flora descended the stairs from her room as quietly as possible. She raised a finger to her lips, warning the boys to keep their exciting whooping to a minimum. Ever flashed her a wide smile and nudged Sam to copy him.
Ivy walked with Flora over to the table and the sleuthing scrapbook supplies. Kat followed.
Ivy’s rear shook as her phone registered an incoming call. She retrieved it, hoping it was Lydia. “It’s Scout’s bunny lady.” She frowned at her friends and answered the call. “Mikela, hello.”
Kat and Flora ignored Ivy’s chatter as they organized their thoughts. Kat switched her laptop back on and printed out the map of Honey Pot’s bridges and the surrounding areas.
Ivy returned to the table, placing her phone next to the scrapbooks. She frowned. “No bunnies for Scout’s party,” she said. “But, cell reception is back.”
“That’s good. Start texting Lydia,” Kat commanded.
“I already have,” Ivy said.
“Sorry about the party,” Flora didn’t gloss over Ivy’s frustration.
Ivy shrugged. “I figured it was coming. Mikela has rescheduled with me three times in the last two weeks. In the beginning, she was good to go and happy to help. Then November came, and she became a bit flakey. It’s really not that big of a deal. We’ll figure something out. Maybe Berna knows someone.”
“Maybe you can borrow her goats?”
Kat interrupted. “Goats, bunnies, pony rides, who cares? Penny and Lydia are missing, and we’re in the middle of a murder investigation.”
Flora crossed her arms and stared down her type-A friend. “One can still be kind.”
Kat rolled her eyes. “Sure.” She turned to Ivy. “Sorry about that.”
“No worries.”
“Great. Now can we get back to the murder?”
“Fine,” Flora said. “Where should we start?”
Kat swallowed. Where would Lydia begin? Would she start a search for her missing friends? Or would she try to figure out who the villain was first and hope that would lead her to her friends?
“We could drive to the areas Lydia was searching. If the rain stops long enough, the bridge will be safe to cross,” Ivy said.
“You’re right. But hopefully, Lydia will be coming this way, by then,” Flora said.
“That means we need to find out who we’re dealing with,” Kat said, with more confidence than she felt. “Finding out who killed Serene, and who kidnapped Lydia will narrow our searching. We don’t want to go galivanting all over the backcountry with no destination.”
“And no idea what to expect,” Flora added.
“But isn’t that exactly what Lydia is doing? Without us?”
Kat didn’t like admitting it, but Ivy was right. It was very likely that Lydia was in over her head with no way back. Instead of voicing her concerns, she said, “I’m sure Lydia’s twenty steps ahead of us. She probably has the killer in her sights, as we speak.”