"Your negativity is kind of a downer," I said.

She waved her hand at me to indicate I should continue.

"Once we have the list, we can run the names by Nick and Andre and see what they know," I said.

"And if they don't have any ideas?"

"Then we broaden our circle and ask other people," I said.

"Like who?" she asked.

"Viv, you're being awfully persistent in your pessimism," I said. "First we need the list then we'll worry about sources of information."

"Fine, but if Harrison finds out . . ."

"He won't," I said. Admittedly, I sounded much more confident than I felt but at this point where was the harm?

"How are you going to get Tuesday to talk to you?" Viv asked. "We didn't exactly part on the best of terms."

"I'll make it worth her while," I said.

"With what?" Viv asked. "Are you going to promise to walk away from Harrison and leave him to her because that's about the only leverage you've got."

I sucked in a breath. I knew she was right. Was I willing to do that? Would I give up Harrison to save him? Did I really have a choice?

"If I have to," I said. It was tough talk. I really hoped Tuesday didn't use my friendship with Harrison as a bargaining chip, but if she did I'd have to play it wisely.

Viv sighed. "There is one thing you aren't considering."

I nodded for her to continue, still feeling a bit sh.e.l.l-shocked.

"Tuesday could be the murderer," she said.

"I know," I said. "And I know that if she is, this could put me in harm's way."

"Us in harm's way," Viv said. "I'm not letting you do this alone."

I thought about arguing but then realized that if the situation was reversed, I would demand the same.

"Fair enough," I said. "Just like I plan to be here when Elise does her bit for the morning show because she, too, could be our killer."

"Franks will be here," Viv said. She ran a finger over the same green hat that Franks had taken a poke at and a small vee appeared between her eyes.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Elise and her producer, Sam Kerry," Viv said.

"What about them?"

"I got the feeling when we were discussing the interview that they were more than co-workers," she said. "He was very protective of her, very solicitous, and not because she was the talent. It seemed more personal."

"Was Sam a big man?" I asked.

"Not especially," she said. "He was very average, average height, average weight, even average looking. He was not someone you would notice except that he wore a perfectly tailored suit and had that indefinable air of power about him."

"I know the type," I said. "He's a problem solver, someone who is usually behind the scenes pulling the strings. If things were dicey between Winthrop and Elise and it would impact her career, Sam Kerry might have felt compelled to step in and help her."

"You mean murder for her?" Viv asked.

I shrugged. We had seen some crazy stuff over the past year. You expect when living in a city like London that you might have a few encounters with shady characters that were not always at one with the law, but we seemed to have a knack for being drawn into the misfortune of others that was becoming downright bizarre.

"If she was interested in Dashavoy for his money, then killing him wouldn't really help her, would it?" I asked. "Maybe there was something else going on there. He was raving about someone when he was being grabby with me. Do you think it was her? Maybe she wanted to end the relationship and he didn't."

"Or maybe she was one of his prescription drug clients," Viv said. "Maybe he was going to disclose her problem to the public."

"Oh, that's a motivator," I said. "For both her and her producer, a drug problem would kill her career and then where would either of them be?"

My phone was in a drawer under the front counter. I retrieved it and opened up a browser to the Internet. A quick search brought up the main number to Carson and Evers. I dialed it and waited.

"Good afternoon, Carson and Evers, how may I be of a.s.sistance?" a pleasant female voice answered.

"Could you connect me to Tuesday Blount?" I asked. "Please tell her Scarlett Parker is calling."

Viv's eyes went wide. I think she thought I was going to think it through or devise a crazy scheme. Yeah, no, those are for bad sitcom television whereas we clearly had a drama unfolding.

"One moment, please," the voice said.

It was more than a moment. In fact, the canned music I was being forced to endure a.s.sured me that it was a lot closer to ten moments than one. I tried to be patient. Maybe she was in a meeting. Maybe she had run to the bathroom. Maybe Harrison was in the office with her. Right. Now.

I shook off the thought. Even if he was there, it was just work because he had made it very clear that she was the past with no chance of returning to the future.

"h.e.l.lo, Scarlett," a familiar female voice, a very familiar smug-sounding female voice, answered.

Is it wrong that I wanted to reach through the phone and punch her in the throat? Okay, yeah, I already know the answer to that.

"Hi, Tuesday," I said. I felt very mature, too.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"The list of names of everyone invited to the bonfire party," I said.

"What for?" she asked.

"To determine who might have had both motive and access to Winthrop Dashavoy on the night of his murder," I said.

"Surely the police will be doing this already," she said. She sounded intrigued, however, so I took that as a good sign.

"I'm sure they are," I agreed. "But I don't think they know the players like I do."

"What do you know about the clients of Carson and Evers?" she snorted. Yes, she actually snorted.

"Given that I'm one of them, I know more than you think," I snapped. Yes, this was a total fabrication, but she was being super obnoxious so it felt as good a time as any to bust out a fib.

"Fine, if I get you the list, what's in it for me?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked. "I should think helping Harrison out would be more than enough for you."

I went for indignant; meanwhile my stomach was curling in on itself as I suspected Viv's prediction was true and Tuesday was going to make me give up Harrison. Well, she could try but I wasn't going to make it easy for her.

"How about a new hat?" I asked.

Viv, who'd been blatantly eavesdropping the whole time, gave me a sour look. I imagined she wanted Tuesday to own one of her hats about as much as she wanted a person with lice trying them on, but sadly it was all I had to offer.

"Those overpriced rags?" she scoffed.

I took a moment to thank the Universe that I had not been stupid enough to put my cell phone on speakerphone. I could only imagine how Viv would have responded to having her hats, works of art really, called rags.

As her business partner and cousin, I should have leapt to her defense, but I am a horrible person and it didn't suit my needs to do so. So instead, I gave Viv an eye roll to indicate what a pain Tuesday was being. Viv narrowed her gaze at me and I wondered if she had been able to hear Tuesday. Uh-oh.

I circled around the counter and began to pace. I figured it would be much harder for Viv to s.n.a.t.c.h the phone out of my hands and curb stomp it like it was Tuesday's head if I stayed in motion.

"What would you like?" I asked.

"You know what I want," she said.

My stomach dropped into my shoes as I said, "Spell it out for me."

"Harrison," she said. "I want him back. I want you gone. You must convince him that there is no future for the two of you and then I will take over your account from him."

Now the room went fuzzy and I was seeing spots. It was one thing to demand that I back away from Harrison. I understood the desire to cut out the compet.i.tion-that made sense to me and I couldn't say I blamed her for the maneuver. It was a whole other thing to mess with my business, however.

Harrison became our business manager when his uncle, who had been Mim's financial advisor, retired. Our families had been entwined through the shop for four decades. Could I really sever that just for a list of names that may or may not lead us to a suspect in a murder?

I glanced at Viv, who was watching me as I paced in front of the window. She looked concerned like she knew the price I was being asked to pay was steeper than I had bargained for. I didn't know what to do, and judging by the way my palms were sweating, my breath was short and my heart was racing, I was beginning to panic.

Chapter 20.

It was then that the sweet smell of lily of the valley infused the air. It was stronger than usual as if it was trying to get my attention. I glanced over at Viv to find her sniffing the air. She looked at me and I could see the question in her gaze. She wanted to know if I could smell it, too. I nodded and she looked relieved.

We had nothing that carried the scent of lily of the valley in the shop. Viv used lavender sachets to scent the store as they were supposed to be calming and she figured it didn't hurt to try and mellow our customers upon arrival.

But lily of the valley was imprinted on both of our brains since it was the scent that our grandmother Mim had always worn. Even now just the smell of it made me feel as if I was being enfolded in one of her generous hugs. It made me feel safe, and loved, and supported. It also cleared my head and now I knew exactly what I had to do.

"Forget it, Tuesday," I snapped. "You went too far. I was trying to help my friend but, you know what, I'll just share all of my information with the police and let them get the list of guests. I'll be sure to tell my friends Inspectors Simms and Franks how helpful you've been, not to mention Harrison. Won't he be thrilled to hear you're trying to take his clients away?"

"I am not after his clients and you know it," she snapped. "I am merely trying to sever the hold that a miserable, grubby little hat shop has on him. Of course, as soon as you became my client, I was planning to unload your pathetic little bonnet shop on another company."

"What is wrong with you?" I asked. "Are you really that dense? Don't you think Harrison would have noticed?"

"By then we would have moved on with our lives and you would be just a faded memory," she said.

"You really are delusional, you know that?" I asked. "You don't know Harrison at all if you think he is so fickle as to just forget about his friends, the people who care about him and who've had his back through this whole mess."

I heard Viv laugh and noticed that the smell of lily of the valley surged and then dissipated. I took it as a sign that Mim approved of the stand I had taken. It was absurd, given that I had no idea if the smell was actually Mim or not, but since I knew Viv could smell it, too, I chose to believe that it was Mim, visiting us from another realm, and I felt bolstered by the possibility.

"All right, don't throw a wobbler," Tuesday said. "I'll see if I can get the names and then we'll see what you can do for me in exchange."

"Or you could just e-mail the names to me when you get them, because it's the right thing to do," I said.

Tuesday barked out a surprised laugh. "You are most definitely not cutthroat enough to exist in Harrison's world."

With that the phone went dead and I took it away from my ear. It occurred to me that I should have told her not to tell Harrison about my request, but I figured since I had called her directly that secrecy was implied. If not, well, how mad could he really get?

As it turned out, pretty mad. I was just locking the front door when he appeared. The stiff set of his shoulders should have braced me for his ire, but I held out hope that it might be the cold.

"What were you thinking?" he asked. Harrison stepped into the shop, looking positively irate. It took me a moment to notice the man who followed him. With his thick head of silver hair, square jaw, amused gaze and impeccable wardrobe, I should have recognized him right away. When I did I started. It was Harry's boss, Tyler Carson.

"Good evening to you, too," I said. I was rattled but determined to play it cool, at least for now, because the minute I saw Tuesday Blount I was going to give my yeller a solid workout. Okay, not really, but it felt good to pretend. "Good to see you, Mr. Carson."

"Ms. Parker," he returned. At least he wasn't yelling at me. And really given that Viv and I had entered his house under false pretenses, he had every right. I wondered if Harrison had told him the truth about that visit. Judging by his smile, I doubted it.

"Please call me Scarlett," I said.

"Tyler." He inclined his head.

"Can I get you anything, Tyler?" I cast Harry an alarmed look. "A gla.s.s of wine, a shot of Jameson, anything?"

"No, thank you," he said. "I did want the opportunity to apologize to you."

"Me?" I asked.

"You," he said. His smile faded and he looked grim. "Harrison told me about what Winthrop did to you, and I just wanted to let you know how very sorry I am that he touched you, frightened you or harmed you in any way. That behavior is reprehensible and that it should have happened under my roof, well, I am appalled."

"Oh, thank you," I said. He seemed so upset that I rushed to make light of how awful it had been. It's the people pleaser in me. I can't help it. "Please don't fret about it. I'm fine. The worst of it was having my face smashed up against his neck and suffering through the smell of his cologne. Someone really needs to teach men that less is more."

Tyler gave me a weak smile as if he suspected I was trying to make a joke of it.

"Really, thank you for your concern," I said. "But I'm fine. I promise."