THE PRIME SUSPECT

Sarah sighed. Her sister was the queen of avoidance. “RahRah and I are staying out of your way so you can do your Julia Child/Rachael Ray thing.” RahRah jumped up onto her shoulder and draped himself around the back of Sarah’s neck. “So are you going to tell me what happened tonight?”

“I wish I knew,” Emily muttered from back in the depths of the refrigerator. “Even though it’s too early for him to know anything for sure, Peter said Bill apparently ate a forkful of rhubarb crisp that killed him.”

“That doesn’t prove Bill was murdered.”

“I agree. Besides, if rhubarb crisp is what killed him, it couldn’t have been mine. It would have had to be someone else’s. You know as well as I do, Bill never touched my rhubarb crisp because I always use nuts in the recipe.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll tell Peter the same thing. After all, I was married to Bill for enough years to know which of your recipes he wouldn’t go near.”

“Thanks. I hope you don’t have to vouch for me.” Emily leaned against the now-closed refrigerator and used her free hand to tuck an escaping strand of blond hair back under her towel turban.

“To tell you the truth, I have a bad feeling about this,” Emily said. “The way Peter looked at me when I told him about someone else being in the Civic Center was like he was humoring me. I’m telling you, he believes I killed Bill. . . .”