'Not them boobs in the S. O. A. P. meeting. Members of the organ'zation have the sense to dress with respect. So you get dressed with respect. I'll see you down there.' She turned and marched out the door, mop slung over her shoulder. Tatiana poked her blunt little nose out from under the couch and eyed Quill with suspicion.
'Go on,' Quill said encouragingly. 'Go find Doreen.'
Tatiana rolled her upper lip over her teeth and advanced sideways, like a mongoose stalking a cobra. Quill jumped up on the oak chest. 'Beat it, Tatiana. Go hunt some ghosts. Better yet, go bite the senator.'
The prospect of senatorial flesh between her jaws apparently appealed to Tatiana. She cocked her head, trotted off, and Quill climbed down from the chest. She was so tired she felt as though she were swimming through mud.
She pulled on a stretchy ankle-length velvet dress over her head, swept her hair into a knot, and slid on a pair of black sandals. 'The well-dressed host,' she muttered, spraying herself with musk perfume, 'goes to meet her fate.'
She heard the drone of Tutti's voice halfway down the hall. The conference room was only three years old, and John had designed it for several purposes. Wood panels on the walls opened up to reveal whiteboards and film screens. The long credenza on the south wall opened up into a serving bar. And the long mahogany table in the center of the room could hold more than twenty people in a pinch.
Quill knocked on the door and opened it in a single motion. The room was dark, except for a single lamp at the head of the table. It was a lava lamp in the shape of a globe, the viscous red liquid churning like the contents t of somebody's stomach. Tutti's round face hung over the lamp like a wrinkly white moon.
'Nnnnnnnnmmmmmmmm,' she hummed.
'Nummmmmmmmmmm,' responded the members of the Hemlock Organization of Women.
'Shut the damn door,' somebody called out. Quill flipped on the light. Doreen sat at Tutti's left, Marge Schmidt at her right. Tatiana barked from the safety of Tutti's lap. Tutti herself blinked owlishly and smiled. She was dressed in a fuzzy angora sweater, a long plaid taffeta skirt, and an emerald necklace that weighed more than her dog.
'Sorry,' said Quill. 'I hope I'm not interrupting anything.'
'Of course you are,' Miriam Doncaster said testily. 'What is it, Quill? We were just about to hear the truth about what goes on in that dratted men's group.'
'I won't keep you. I have something to ask you guys. It's important, but short.'
She walked to the head of the room. The women of Hemlock Falls looked back at her: Esther West, in a black chiffon cocktail dress with rhinestone earrings; Betty Hall in purple lam‚, a red bow in her hair; Marge in a size twenty-two Diane Freis after-dinner suit that cost more than Quill's automobile when it was new. Even Adela Henry looked vulnerable in the sudden flare of the overhead lights.
Quill felt a wave of affection so strong she blinked back tears.
'You okay, honey?' Nadine Wertmuller (Hemlock Hall of Beauty) snapped her gum in concern.
'Yep,' Quill said a little huskily, 'I'm just tired, that's all.'
'PMS,' said somebody. 'Gets me like that, too.'
'I want to ask your help.' Quill tugged at a tendril j of hair. 'Some of you were at the s‚ance this afternoon. By now, most of you have heard what went on. And I believe that Tutti's been given a warning.'
There was a swell of excited comment, like wheat, rippling in the wind.
'Tutti was right - or rather, her - um - spirit guide was. The man who killed Nora Cahill and Frank Dorset is connected with rabbits.'
'Those bums at S. O. A. P.,' yelled Nadine. 'Torturing animals in the woods!'
'Oh, no!' Quill flung her hands out. 'The killings don't have anything to do with S. O. A. P. Sheriff McHale is very close to obtaining evidence that will convict this man.'
'You find something in Syracuse?' asked Marge.
Quill made what she hoped was a noncommittal 'hmm.' Tutti regarded her with the set, unblinking gaze of her dog. 'I found something that I think will be useful in bringing this person in. But until the case is wrapped up, I believe that Tutti is in real danger.'
'Surely not!' Tutti protested.
Meg, dressed in jeans and a clean T-shirt (which meant that the kitchen was closed), appeared at the open door. She caught Quill's eye, wriggled her eyebrows, then folded her arms and leaned against the door frame. Quill straightened her shoulders and continued firmly, 'I'm afraid so, Mrs. McIntosh. I know,' Quill said, scanning the room, 'that no one at this meeting is implicated in these murders. I saw the murderer myself.'
Meg went, 'Phuuut!'
Quill ignored her.
'Jeez,' said Betty Hall. 'You think you should announce it like that?'
'If we were weren't close to bringing him in, and if I didn't trust everyone in this room, I'd agree with you. As it is, I wonder if we could assign a guard for Tutti, just until Sheriff McHale gets back from this snow emergency. Would some of you volunteer to keep an eye on her at all times?'
'Of course we will,' said Esther West. 'My goodness, do you think she'll be attacked? Right here at the Inn?'
'It's possible.'
Meg cleared her throat, rolled her eyes, and yawned.
'How long do we keep this watch?' asked Miriam.
