'Were you on a smoking flight?'
He laughed. 'Are you going to take your hands away from your face?'
Quill shook her head no.
'Why not?'
'If I do, I'll cry. If I start to cry, I won't stop. And I've got a busy day ahead. My hands,' she explained, 'are sort of holding my face on.'
'I see.'
'Did you...' Her throat was clogged and she stopped to swallow. 'Did you hear what happened?'
'Just now. Downstairs. From Dina. Of course, having had experience with Dina's reportage before, I'm taking a lot of it under advertisement. I take it you didn't run over a little kid.'
Quill shook her head.
There was a different note to his voice, a note she'd only heard once before, the day she'd been shot. 'And you weren't raped by Frank Dorset.'
'Good heavens, no.' Quill took her hands away from her face.
'And the s‚ance this afternoon isn't your method of determining who killed Nora Cahill and Dorset.'
'The what?' Quill sat up straight and took a healthy swig of coffee. 'S‚ance. Tutti,' she said darkly. 'Oh, swell.' She looked directly at him for the first time since he'd come back. 'I suppose you heard all about Nora Cahill and the videotape and my missing coat and hat.'
'Your coat? You mean that ratty - er - cherished sort of down thing you weir in the winter?'
Quill nodded, then gave a coherent account of the last two days.
Myles asked a few questions, then said, 'I think I have the gist of it.' He got up and put on his raincoat.
'Where are you going?'
'I'm going to have a little talk with the mayor. To inquire about the availability of the sheriff's job.'
'Myles!' She set her cup down and rose to follow him.
'Later, dear heart. After this mess is cleared up.'
The door clicked shut behind him. Quill slipped off her robe and began to dress.
'Wow, you look fabulous.' Dina made a credible attempt at a wolf whistle as Quill came down the stairs into the foyer. 'Where'd that sweater come from? And I love the lace at the throat. Medieval. You look medieval.' She wriggled her eyebrows. 'And happy. Sheriff McHale came down the stairs about ten minutes ago and he looked happy, too.' She sighed. 'I sure feel better. Sheriff McHale said that of course you didn't stab that creep Dorset when he tried to - you know - that somebody else did it. Stabbed Dorset, I mean.'
'Nobody tried to you - know. Especially Dorset.'
'But Davy told Kathleen who told me that Dorset tried to... and somebody stabbed him.'
'Somebody sure did. But it wasn't me. I. Whatever.'
'Well, Sheriff McHale will find out who did it. And who killed Nora Cahill, too. Unless you and Meg find out first, like you've done before. Although, really, all either one of you has to do is ask Tutti. She's going to find out this afternoon, you know.'
Quill, who was absolutely famished, stopped on her way to the dining room and turned around. 'Which reminds me. What's this about a s‚ance?'
'At one-thirty. Just after lunch.'
'I didn't ask when it was. I asked what about it?'
'What about it?'
'Is it Claire's grandmother? Mrs. McIntosh?'
'You mean Tutti? Yep. And Tatiana.'
'Tutti and her dog? The dog's psychic, too?'
Dina looked uncertain.
'Who's attending?'
'You mean who's going to be at the...' She quailed at Quill's expression.
Quill reminded herself that Dina was one of the brightest Ph.D. candidates at the limnology department at Cornell University. The fact that she knew far more about freshwater ponds and copepods than real life had stopped astonishing Quill, but it didn't keep her from occasional irritation.
Dina said (meekly enough to make Quill feel badly about her momentary ill temper), 'Tutti invited Tatiana, Claire, Mrs. McIntosh - the one that's Claire's mom, that is - Mayor Henry, and that Mr. Blight.'
'Evan Blight? I didn't have him listed for check in until this afternoon.'
'Well, he showed up this morning. Said he'd been out all night under the hunter's moon and wanted the amenities of a civilized existence before he returned to the primitive glory of the woods... that's what he said, Quill, honest to God.'
'It's not what he said, it's about where he was. Out all night? Where?'
