FIFTY-THREE

I kept my promise and drove directly to my parents’ house when we left the Sheriff’s Office. Well, not directly. I took a small detour past Summer Place to assure myself it hadn’t burned to the ground. Seeing firefighters standing watch boosted my optimism.

Eva opened the door at my parents’ house and gave me a crushing hug. I wasn’t surprised that Dad had called Aunt Eva and invited her to sit in on the mystery wrap-up.

Mom kept her side of the bargain, pouring hot coffee with liberal additions of spirits, and setting out a cold buffet with something for every diet. I was quite content with peanut butter on toast, an apple, and Oreos—yes they are vegan fare. No animal products. But I do avoid scanning the list of unpronounceable chemicals in the ingredient listing.

“Do you think Ruth will get away with trying to murder her mother?” I asked Ursula and Amber. “Esther may well recant to save her daughter. Claim she contemplated suicide and wrote the Facebook post before she chickened out. Ruth spun a good tale painting herself and her dad as innocent victims. In her version, her father’s only offense was failing to report the blackmail.”

“She’d hoped all the parties painted as guilty would be conveniently dead,” Aunt Eva offered. “Hope there’s some way to prove Ruth used her mom’s computer to schedule that Facebook post.”

“I really wanted to believe her.” Amber sighed. “But I’m a cop. Healthy suspicion comes with the territory. It’s unclear when Ruth became involved, but even if her mother did poison Harriett and light the cottage fire, she has to share in the guilt. And trying to murder her own mother. Wow.”

“I’ll urge the Sheriff’s Office to check out Ruth’s and Ford’s alibis for the night the food was poisoned and the cottage torched,” Mom said.

“Ruth could be telling the truth about that part of the story or it could be a total fabrication. Maybe Jeannie was trying to protect her granddaughter, not her daughter.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Amber bite her lip. Her eyes closed for a minute. She straightened. “Even if we’re never able to determine the truth, the guilty will suffer.”

Ursula nodded.

Mom squeezed Ursula’s hand. “Are you still planning to confront Toomey?”

“No need. The powers that be will politely tell him that he needs to bow out. Too much baggage. His daughter’s being tried for attempted murder; his mother-in-law died in the act of attempted murder. The reason one of the Toomeys killed Harriet—blackmail about a ‘love child’—can’t be kept secret.

Mom patted Ursula’s arm. “You’re okay with this? Your goal from the start was to stymie Toomey’s nomination while protecting Amber’s privacy. It looks like you’ve succeeded, just not how you planned.”

Ursula smiled at her daughter. “I just hope the next time Amber and I get together neither of us has to visit a hospital, flee a fire, or outwit a murderer.”

“Amen to that,” Dad said.

I had my own reason to smile. “Whatever information does or doesn’t become public, Danny promised to repeat ad nauseam that I, Brie Hooker, an innocent, was callously framed as a food-poisoner and killer.”

My aunt, who’d been exceptionally quiet, had the evening’s last word. “It’s way past time for my niece and me to head home to Udderly. I left Billy in charge, and danged if he didn’t just call with the news we have five new baby kids.”