Saturday morning came much too soon for Katie. She woke at seven when her radio blasted nineties hip-hop. She had forgotten to shut off the alarm. With the determination of a marathon trainer, she powered through and fell back to sleep. She woke again at ten, disoriented and groggy. There was no bright sunlight forcing its way past her blinds. She got up and looked outside to a gray and gloomy day. The window was still wet from the morning’s rain, and yellow leaves stuck damply to the grass.

It was hard enough to get out of bed on a Saturday, but weather like that made her want to crawl back under the covers with a good book and pretend that she wasn’t involved in a murder investigation. Because that’s exactly what she was doing, wasn’t it? She was secretly investigating a murder and keeping information from the police.

The smell of bacon seeped into the room. Caleb. He knew how to get her out of bed. She followed the delicious aroma to the kitchen, where he was just plating a Swiss cheese and mushroom omelet.

“For you, madam.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll give you five bites, and then I need to know what you found out.”

Katie dug in. The food made her feel better. The coffee that Caleb set next to her plate brought her back to life.

She gave Caleb a brief summary of what she had discovered. She told him about the photos of Christopher’s parents and another couple.

“There was a family tree showing the inheritance of color-blindness. That was probably what all the color-blind searches were for. Color-blindness is an X-linked trait. That means it passes to sons from their mothers. If a woman is a carrier, she has a fifty-fifty chance of passing it on to her son. A woman can be a carrier if her father was color-blind.”

“So if the mother’s father was color-blind, the child has a fifty-fifty chance of being color-blind?”

“Yes, if the child is male. If it’s female, then the father would have to be color-blind as well in order to produce a color-blind daughter.”

“Got it. But none of the files pointed to anyone in particular? No deep, dark secrets?”

“Not really.” Katie sighed. “But Matt said something interesting the other day.”

“I’m sure he did,” said Caleb and waggled his eyebrows.

“Stop,” Katie said. “He did. It might be the last bit of wisdom he’ll ever share with me after last night. He said to follow the money.”

“Well, she has that tax file in there.”

Katie nodded. “I looked at it, and it seemed pretty standard. So far, I haven’t found any money to follow.”

“I thought Christopher was the one with all the money.”

“I think that’s right, but Dan and Todd had that brawl at the funeral. Beth said it was about how Christopher was running the business. I wonder if Dan felt threatened by Ellen?”

“It seems like the more we find out, the more suspects we have. I thought the whole idea was to narrow things down.”

Katie nodded ruefully. “I agree. The more I look into this, the more secrets are uncovered. It’s like trying to diagnose a patient with a weird presentation. The more tests you run, the more slightly off results you get until your diagnosis is all muddled up with inconsequential lab tests.”

Caleb looked at her for a beat. “Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

Katie threw a dishcloth at him. He dodged it and escaped into the dining room. “Your turn to do the dishes!” he yelled gleefully from the safety of the other room.

* * *

Katie had cleaned up the kitchen and taken a shower. Just as she was about to open the files again on her computer to be sure she hadn’t missed anything, the doorbell rang.

She left her room and went through the dining room to answer the door. Caleb was there at the table, engrossed in his own computer project.

“Don’t get up,” Katie said. “I’ll get it.”

Caleb hadn’t moved, but he managed to mumble, “Mmm-kay.”

Katie pulled the door open expecting a kid selling coupon books or magazines.

“Surprise!” Gabrielle said.

“Hey, come in.” Katie stepped away from the doorway.

“I didn’t really expect a call last night, but I thought I’d at least get a text or something this morning,” Gabrielle said. “When I heard nothing at all, I decided to come get the scoop myself.”

“Oh, you mean Matt?”

Gabrielle put her hands on her hips and scowled at Katie. “Of course, I mean Matt. How did it go?”

“I’ll need some more coffee if we’re going to talk about this,” Katie said. “Come into the kitchen, and I’ll tell you all the gory details.”

“I love details,” Gabrielle said. She dropped her coat and bag on the couch and waved hello to Caleb as she passed.

Katie poured two cups of coffee from the pot that Caleb had made earlier and sat at the table with Gabrielle.

“Go on then. Spill it.”

Katie made a face and sighed. “You’re not going to like this,” she began. “There was no date. I blew it.”

“What? How?”

Katie filled her in on the disaster date that never was.

“I don’t think he’ll ever talk to me again.”

“This is pretty bad,” Gabrielle agreed. “I’m not sure I would talk to you again.”

“Thanks for the pep talk.”

“But what were you thinking? Why would you read his file?”

Katie shrugged. “I wasn’t thinking about him so much as the murder. I felt like I had to look at everything. You don’t avoid checking for cancer just because you really like the patient and don’t want to give them bad news.”

“I guess that’s true.” Gabrielle drummed her fingers on the table. “You didn’t really think he could be the killer did you?”

“No, not really. But it’s not like I know him that well . . .”

“This is ridiculous,” Gabrielle said. “You need to figure this thing out so you can go back to your life without suspecting everyone you meet.”

“You’re right.” Katie sipped her coffee.

“What do you know so far?”

Katie rubbed her forehead and tried to put everything in reasonable order in her mind. “Ellen took, or was given, some diazepam—but not enough to kill her. She was injected with a high dose of Demerol, which was enough to kill her. On the night in question, Christopher may or may not have been seen at the house. Someone was there, but he was seen from a distance and was wearing a sweat shirt with the hood pulled up. Ellen had some clients who may have shared secrets, and she was in possession of a notebook that had been used for blackmail. Also, there were rumors she was having an affair with Nick, which puts the wife on the list of suspects. Because even if it wasn’t true, if Cecily thought it was true, that’s all that matters.”

“This is complicated,” Gabrielle said.

“And I haven’t even mentioned the secondary suspects—the ones that I don’t really suspect, but I have them on the list just to be thorough.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to start pushing for some answers. I’ll start by bullying a little old lady.”

* * *

After lunch, Katie drove to Ellen’s house and inspected the homes on either side. Mrs. Peabody had said Miss Simms’s house was on the far side of the Rileys’ driveway. A light-blue bungalow was nestled among trees, bushes, and an exuberant display of mums in every color on that side of the Riley’s place. There were two white wicker chairs on the small porch and white lace curtains hanging in the front windows.

Katie figured this was the place. She parked in the street and walked up the paved pathway to the front porch.

She knocked on the door and waited. She glanced across the street and saw the curtain twitch in Patsy Travers’s window.

Shuffling and bumping noises floated out from inside the house.

“Who is it?”

Katie recognized Mrs. Peabody’s crisp voice from the other side of the door. It seemed she would have to deal with both of them.

“It’s Dr. LeClair,” Katie said. “May I come in?”

The door swung open, and both ladies stood there looking delighted.

“Dr. LeClair, I’m so glad you stopped by. We were just about to have some tea and cake,” Miss Simms said. She took Katie by the hand and pulled her through the house to the kitchen.

“Betty, let Dr. LeClair tell us why she’s here,” Mrs. Peabody said.

“Of course,” Miss Simms said. “Just let me get her a cup.”

Mrs. Peabody shook her head at Katie. Katie took it to mean that she would have to go along with the tea party to get a word in.

Katie sat and thanked Miss Simms for the tea.

Miss Simms bustled about, put a plate with a slice of carrot cake on it in front of Katie, and poured tea from a beautiful silver teapot.

Miss Simms sat after Mrs. Peabody assured her that everyone had everything they needed.

“Now what brings you here, Doctor?” Miss Simms sipped her tea.

Katie had been rapidly reworking her strategy. She berated herself for not planning that Mrs. Peabody would be there as well. The best way forward might be to just tell them the truth.

“I’m glad you’re here as well, Mrs. Peabody. I wanted to talk to you both about our last visit at the clinic.”

“Are Betty’s labs back? Is it bad news?” Mrs. Peabody set her cup down gently and seemed to steel herself for a physical attack.

“No, I didn’t take any labs. This isn’t about your health. You’re both as healthy as ever.”

Miss Simms and Mrs. Peabody sighed, and Mrs. Peabody patted Miss Simms’s hand.

Katie looked at them and held each woman’s gaze.

“You each told me something last time I saw you, and I want to be sure it’s okay to discuss it with both of you. You may remember we discussed Ellen Riley?”

Miss Simms looked away from Katie toward her kitchen window. Mrs. Peabody studied her cake.

“Can I discuss it with both of you?”

Miss Simms turned back to Katie and nodded. “I shouldn’t have kept it from Mrs. Peabody anyway.”

Mrs. Peabody looked at her friend in surprise. “Kept what from me?”

“Is it okay with you as well, Mrs. Peabody?”

She looked back at Katie and flapped her hand. “Yes, yes, okay.”

Katie took a deep breath.

She turned to Miss Simms. “You mentioned that the Rileys had been fighting in the last few weeks and that it was unusual for them.”

Miss Simms nodded and stole a glance at Mrs. Peabody.

Katie looked at Mrs. Peabody. “You mentioned that you saw someone enter the house that evening wearing a hoodie and sweat pants.”

Miss Simms put her hand to her mouth.

“Can you see how the two of you have some very important information that you should share with the police?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Miss Simms gasped at Mrs. Peabody.

“I had no idea you were hiding this!” Mrs. Peabody snapped back.

Both women fell silent, not looking at each other. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Miss Simms turned to Katie.

“Would you like more tea, dear?”

Katie took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, ladies, but I don’t have time for hurt feelings here. I need to know what you saw or heard in the past few weeks. My partner is in trouble, and I don’t think he had anything to do with Ellen’s death.”

“Emmett? He wouldn’t hurt anyone,” Mrs. Peabody said. “Not ever.” She crossed her arms, and her look dared Katie to contradict her.

“Not Emmett. Nick,” Katie said.

The two friends exchanged a glance.

“Oh, well, Nick Hawkins . . .” Miss Simms drifted off. She sipped her tea and looked out the window again.

“What does that mean?” When Katie couldn’t get Miss Simms to look at her, she appealed to Mrs. Peabody.

“She just means that Emmett’s boy hasn’t been the same since his motorcycle accident. He used to be such a delightful person, and now he’s moody and sometimes downright unfriendly.”

Katie had only known Nick after his accident, and she had a hard time imagining him as “delightful.”

“But you can’t think that he had anything to do with Ellen Riley’s death?”

Miss Simms set her teacup gently in the saucer. “We’ve both seen him going in to the house at odd times of day.” She looked to Mrs. Peabody, who nodded. “We know there are rumors that they were having an affair, which I find very hard to believe. We thought Ellen and Christopher were very happy. I don’t know about Nick and Cecily. They used to be happy, but Cecily has withdrawn from most of her activities in the last year or so. It’s difficult to say what might be happening. And we don’t like to gossip.”

Katie swallowed the snort of laughter at that last comment and made herself cough.

Mrs. Peabody stood and whacked her on the back several times, which only made things worse. Katie held up a hand.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Just had a sudden tickle in my throat.”

Mrs. Peabody sat down.

“On another subject,” Katie said. “I was wondering what you might remember about Christopher’s parents, Jack and Sylvia.”

Miss Simms shook her head. “I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, Dr. LeClair.”

Mrs. Peabody leaned forward. “I don’t mind. She was awful!”

“What?” Mrs. Peabody reacted to the shocked look her friend gave her. “She was nosy, and pushy, and was horrible to Jack the whole time they were married.”

“Really?” Katie asked. She hadn’t heard this part from Patsy.

Miss Simms reluctantly nodded. “She used to find out things and then use them to get people to do what she wanted.”

“Blackmail?” Katie knew the answer but didn’t want to stop the ladies from sharing anything they knew.

“I don’t think she ever asked for money.” Miss Simms moved the cake crumbs around her plate. “It was more that she would try to influence things.”

Mrs. Peabody took over the story. “If she was running for school board president, she might look into any gossip she could find on her opponent and convince them to drop out.”

Miss Simms said. “I think Christopher got into some typical teenage trouble—drinking and reckless driving—and she was always able to get him out of it. The chief of police at the time must have had a few skeletons in his closet.”

Katie had surmised all this from reading the notebook Beth had given her. She was more interested in what they could share about the photo Ellen had or the family tree she had drawn.

“What do you know about the Rileys and the Talbots?”

The ladies looked at each other, and Miss Simms nodded at Mrs. Peabody.

“They were very close friends, all of them.” Mrs. Peabody studied her cup and saucer. “I hate to drag up old rumors.”

“Please, Mrs. Peabody,” Katie said. “I think it could be very important.”

Mrs. Peabody sighed. “There was some tittle-tattle that Jack Riley and Lily Talbot were closer than they should have been. Jack always took a special interest in Lily’s girl, Marilyn. If you’d seen her and Christopher when they were children, you would have sworn they were related.”

“Do you mean Marilyn Swanson?” Katie leaned forward.

“Yes, dear,” Miss Simms said. “She was a lovely girl. And so bright. It’s a shame, really, that she never finished nursing school.”

Katie sat back in her chair. This was what she’d suspected from all the genetics research that Ellen had been doing. But she hadn’t made the connection to Marilyn. Gossip and notes on genotypes didn’t prove anything, but it gave Katie a few ideas.

The mention of Marilyn reminded Katie of her initial reason for stopping by.

“Do either of you remember anything about Noah Swanson?”

“My goodness, Dr. LeClair,” Miss Simms said. “You are bringing up all the old stories.”

Miss Simms hesitated and a look passed between the two older ladies.

“Noah was always trouble. From the time he was in kindergarten, we knew he had a temper,” said Miss Simms.

“I know people tried to talk Marilyn out of marrying him, but she was determined. I felt terrible when stories of ER visits and injuries made the rounds,” Mrs. Peabody said.

“And then he just up and left,” Miss Simms said. “Marilyn had to raise both of those boys on her own.”

“I don’t know the other Swanson son,” Katie said.

Mrs. Peabody shook her head and smiled. “Noah was so awful that the younger son took Marilyn’s maiden name. Todd Talbot is her youngest.”

“Oh,” Katie said. Marilyn had been married to an abusive man. Eric Swanson was her son and so was Todd Talbot. This was one of those moments when Katie most felt her outsider status. Probably everyone in town knew that Marilyn had two sons and that one of them had changed his name to Talbot. This explained Marilyn’s world-weary manner; she’d been through a lot in her life. But what did it have to do with Ellen?

She turned to Miss Simms. “Let’s get back to Ellen and Christopher. You’re sure they were arguing more in the past few weeks?”

She nodded. “Definitely. I had never heard either one of them raise a voice to the other before.”

“And you couldn’t tell what they were arguing about?”

Miss Simms shook her head and crossed her arms.

Katie waited.

Miss Simms sighed and put her hands in her lap. “Only once, when they were in their backyard, I heard Ellen tell him that it was the right thing to do. Christopher said he would think about it, but it was ancient history, and he didn’t want to dredge up the past and disrupt everyone’s lives.”

“Do you know what they were talking about?”

Both women shook their heads.

“Thank you both for telling me all of this,” Katie said.

“We’re happy to help you, dear,” Miss Simms said, “but I do hope you’ll be careful with the information. People don’t always like to talk about the past.”