His smile was wolfish as he turned toward the door.
I dropped into the passenger seat. “I haven’t been gone that long. Have you ever heard about the stressful effects of a type A personality?”
Her eyes narrowed as she punched the button. “When I want mental-health advice, I’ll ask my shrink. What took you so long?”
“Ronald Phillips eavesdropped on Evelyn and Alison.” I described the scene in Laverne and Ronald’s bedroom.
She gave a low whistle of surprise. “Laverne moves majestically around The Castle and he follows like a well- bred lapdog.”
“Fake.” I was crisp. “He’s the puppeteer.”
“What do you think he’s up to?” Her tone was considering.
“He said, ‘The Great Spirit’s going to put on a good show tonight.’” I had a feeling of foreboding.
Kay gave a hoot of laughter. “They’ll make Diane pay double. Sounds like fun.”
“Kay!” My tone rebuked her.
She shot a wickedly amused glance toward the passenger seat. “I forgot, you don’t take kindly to the afterworld. Isn’t that a bit of a double standard, lady?”
“Absolutely not.” My reply was hot. “I am an official emissary of the Department of Good Intentions, sent to achieve goodness. Psychics and fortune-tellers purvey nonsense to the credulous for their own profit.”
“Go, girl. I like a woman who will slug it out. As for psychics, et al, I agree with you, even if you sound like you have vinegar in your mouth.”
Had I sounded acidulous? Possibly. But that wasn’t the point. “We should discourage Diane from engaging in the occult.”
“Lots of luck on that one.” Kay’s expression was abruptly compassionate. “Threatening to cut her lifeline to James turns her into a shrew.”
I remembered the gazebo and Diane’s passionate defense of Laverne.
Kay glanced behind her, backed up, then wheeled the car toward the street. “I’ve got places to go and people to see.” The Corvette burned out of the drive. “But”—and her tone was almost admiring—“your coming and going may turn out to be helpful. What did Alison want?”
My hair streamed behind me. I liked speed. I recalled the exhilarating plunge down one of Adelaide’s biggest hills when I was here for a spot of Christmas intrigue. As then, I couldn’t resist a whooping, “Yee-hah!” If you’ve never given a Rebel yell, you don’t know how to have fun.
Kay gasped and the Corvette swerved. “What’s up with you?” Her voice was both shaky and exasperated.
“Riding shotgun, sweetie, and having a blast. As for Alison, it’s a shame I didn’t have a camcorder. The Adelaide police carry them as part of their equipment.”
Just for fun I appeared in full police regalia, black-billed blue cap, long-sleeved French blue blouse, French blue trousers with a darker blue stripe, a nameplate for Officer M. Loy—my tribute to Mryna Loy—holster, gun, belt with flashlight, and a camcorder.
After one swift glance, Kay stared straight ahead. “Has anyone ever told you showing off is poor form?” The Corvette slowed to the speed limit.
I didn’t think it was showing off to swirl into a more summery outfit. Besides, Adelaide is a small town and a police officer riding in the passenger seat of a yellow Corvette would definitely be noticed. This time I chose a hand-painted silk georgette blouse and pale pink slacks.
Kay glanced again. “Nice blouse.”
“Thank you.”
“Why did you wish you had a camcorder?”
We were almost downtown. “I wish I had a recording of Evelyn and Alison’s conversation.” I described Evelyn’s not terribly subtle offer of profit for a verdict of erosion at the base of the vase and concluded, “As soon as Evelyn dangled the bait of replacing the vases, Alison did the Texas two-step quicker than a firefly flickers. Tell me about Alison.”
Kay turned into a parking lot behind a small redbrick building with black shutters. “Clever, smart, on the make. Jack called Laverne and Ronald Diane’s leeches. I’d describe Alison as Evelyn’s leech, albeit a suave, sophisticated, savvy leech.” She eased the Corvette beneath the shade of a sycamore.
“It doesn’t surprise you that Alison would be willing to adjust her opinion to suit Evelyn?”
Kay was sardonic. “Does the sun rise in the east? The surprise is Evelyn. Either she’s protecting herself or someone else.”
“Who would she protect?”
Kay looked thoughtful. “Possibly Jimmy. She’s fond of her nephew. I’d say no one else in the house matters to her at all. Maybe it’s all much simpler. Maybe she’s trying to deflect scandal from the family.”
“The Humes”—my voice was dry—“have always had a talent for scandal.”
“Not Evelyn.” Kay slipped out of the car.
I disappeared.
