"I wonder if Marge realizes yet that she just gave us a great motive for her committing the murder."

"If she doesn't know by now, Burt will understand the ramifications as soon as she relays our conversation with her, you can believe that. You want to know something that's funny?"

Grace said, "Sure, I could always use a good laugh."

"Not funny that way, funny odd," I said. "Neither one of them ever mentioned calling the police, no matter how belligerent we got with them."

"You were belligerent. I was sweet," Grace said.

"Whatever. Don't you find that strange?"

"No, Marge admitted she had something to hide when she said Peg had threatened her."

"That's the thing with secrets. They always have a way of coming up to the surface if you give them enough time."

Grace asked, "So, who should we talk to now? I wonder if Father Pete's around. We can take a swing at him, while we're going after people in April Springs."

"Believe me, if I thought he had something to do with Peg Masterson's death, I wouldn't hesitate."

My cell phone laughed at me, and I saw my mother was calling. Before I answered it, Grace said, "I thought you were going to change that ringtone to something normal."

"I was, but I've kind of gotten used it." I opened the phone and said, "Hi, Momma, what's up?"

She nearly screamed at me, "Suzanne Hart, have you completely lost your mind?"

"Probably. Why do you ask?"

She said, "I just got off the phone with Marge Rankin, and the poor woman was in tears. What did you do to her?"

"I just asked her a few innocent questions," I said.

I saw Grace's eyebrows go up at that, and I frowned at her.

A bit mollified, Momma said, "That's not the way I heard it."

"Who are you going to believe, Marge or your own daughter?"

She paused way too long for my taste.

I said, "I'm waiting."

"I'm thinking," my mother said.

"When you figure it out, give me a call back," I said as I hung up on her.

Grace said, "Oh, you're in trouble now."

"I'm a little too old to be grounded," I said. "She's just going to have to deal with it."

"I admire you. Your mother scares the pants off me. She always has."

"That's because you let her," I said.

"So, all of the drama aside, what do we do next?"

"I'm not exactly sure," I said. "Let me get back to you on that. In the meantime, why don't we just drive around until something comes to us?"

Grace kept looking at her watch, and I finally asked, "Is there somewhere you need to be?"

"I've kind of got a dinner date, but I can cancel it if you need me."

I said, "Pull over."

We were a block from the donut shop, and she did as I asked.

I got out of the car and said, "Have you lost your mind? If you've found someone crazy enough to ask you out, you should go."

"That's kind of what I was thinking," she said with a smile.

"Who is it? Anybody I know?"

"No, he lives in Union Square. I'm meeting him at Napoli's for dinner."

She knew that was where Jake and I had gone when we'd eaten out on those rare times he was in town. No wonder she hadn't wanted to say anything to me about her plans.

"Go on, then, get out of here," I said. "Don't be late on my account. Have fun, okay?"

"I'll try. Call me if anything comes up, I mean it."

"I will," I promised as I watched her drive away.

At least one of us had a social life. I wondered what Jake was doing for dinner. No doubt he was having takeout at police headquarters as he caught up on any progress Chief Martin had made in his absence. I couldn't imagine the file being very thick, but then again, I didn't have a great deal of faith in our fair chief.

As I walked past Two Cows and a Moose, I decided to pop inside. The three stuffed animals the newsstand had been named for were on their shelf of honor above the register, and I saw that they were each decked out in Halloween costumes. Cow had a vampire cape on, Spots was wearing a cowboy outfit, and Moose had on a superhero ensemble. Emily Hargraves had taught me early on that the way to tell the difference between the two cows was the green ribbon tied to Spots's tail.

Emily, the pretty young brunette who owned the place, saw me admiring her stuffed friends. "They look positively resplendent, don't they?"

I nodded. "Where did you find costumes that fit them?"

She smiled. "I have a sewing machine and an imagination. What more do I need?"

"I'd need someone to use them both," I said. "Do you have the latest issues of Ellery Queen and Alfred Hitchcock mystery magazines?"

Emily went to a rack and grabbed one of each. "Sure thing. Can I get you anything else?"

I shook my head as I paid for the magazines. As Emily handed me my change, she said, "I'm so sorry about what happened. Why on earth someone would take something as full of joy as a donut and turn it into a bad thing is beyond me. It's just not fair."

I nodded. "You're preaching to the choir."

As I was leaving, I saluted the stuffed animals and said, "Happy Halloween."

I half-expected them to respond, but they kept their vigilant watch over the place, never shirking their duties.

I got into the Jeep, and as I drove home, I realized that my mother hadn't called me back after I'd hung up on her. That meant she was still angry that I'd cut her off so abruptly, and I debated about whether to go back home at all.

But I'd have to face her sooner or later, so I realized that I might as well get it over with.

At least there'd be food there, and I was starving.

"Dinner's almost ready," my mother told me as I walked in the door. I looked at her, searching for some clue about her mood, but from the way she was acting, it was clear she'd decided to ignore our previous exchange.

That was fine with me. I'd had enough drama today to last me a while.

"It smells great," I said. "Lemon chicken?"

She nodded. "With mashed potatoes, green beans, homemade cranberry sauce, and cherry pie for dessert."

"Wow, I feel like a queen. When did you have time to make pie, too?"

"I've been home cooking all day," she admitted.

"Just for the two of us?" It wasn't odd for my mother to cook elaborate meals for both of us, but this was a little over the top.

"I thought Jake might join us," she said. "Is there any chance you could call him and issue an invitation?"

"Sorry, Momma, he's busy," I said. "Do I still get to eat?"

"Of course you do. Set the table, and we'll go ahead."

I washed my hands first, then set the table for two. So that was why my mother had gone into "extreme cooking" mode.

As we sat down to eat, I realized just how hungry I was.

As I piled my plate up with food, Momma said, "Maybe it's just as well Jake couldn't make it. You eat like a lumberjack sometimes, Suzanne."

"I've got the appetite of one," I said. "Besides, Jake's already seen me eat. He likes the fact that I don't pick at my food."

She could tell that I was in no mood for her verbal jabs, and after our truncated telephone conversation, I realized she was a little touchy, too. We dropped the sparring, and I was surprised to find myself enjoying her company as much as the meal. My mother could be charming when she set her mind to it. Of course, I'd heard her say the same thing about me. Maybe it was true about the apple not falling far from the tree.

I was ready for bed, and reached for my telephone to turn it off when it laughed in my hands. It was Jake.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" he asked.

"It's not even eight o'clock," I said. "I'm still awake."

"For how much longer, though? You're ready for bed, aren't you?"

I looked out the window. "Why? Are you outside watching me?"

"No, but that's why I called. Why didn't you tell me there was a prowler outside your house last night?"

He was upset; I could hear it in his voice.

"There was nothing you could do about it, Jake. You were in Raleigh. I handled it," I said.

"I heard you called George, and then the police," he said. "You weren't crazy enough to go outside yourself, were you? I don't care if you do have a baseball bat, it's no protection against someone out to get you."

"I'm happy with it," I said. "I don't like guns, and it seems a little odd if I carry a sword around with me."

I put the phone down for a second and stared outside. Had I heard a twig snapping, or had it been my imagination? I was the first to admit that my senses were on overdrive, looking for possible danger where it might not exist. But I also knew that the woods made their own noises at night, and a lot of it, particularly in the silence of the evening, when the rest of the world was settling down.

Try as I might to see into the shadows though, I couldn't spot anything untoward.

I heard Jake talking loudly as I put the telephone back to my ear. ". . . coming over right now!"

"What? Why would you do that?"

He said, "Suzanne, what's going on? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I heard a squirrel out in the park, and I immediately envisioned a prowler lurking in the shadows."

"Is that what happened last night?" he asked.

"No, that was probably just a jogger bending over to tie his shoe. My imagination's getting the better of me lately; I'm the first to admit it."

"I'm coming over, anyway," he said.

"Jake, it's nothing, trust me. Besides, I need to get some sleep if I'm going to be up in five hours."

"You don't have to invite me in and entertain me, Suzanne. I'll come over, look around, and make sure everything's okay. You won't even know I'm there."

"You don't have to do this," I repeated.

"I know I don't have to. But I want to."

He hung up, and I walked downstairs to tell Momma not to worry if she saw a flashlight in the park.

She was watching a television program, something that she rarely did.

As she looked up at me, Momma almost appeared to look guilty. "I just turned it on," she said.

After a second, she asked, "What are you doing up, anyway? Isn't it past your bedtime?"

I nodded as I double-checked the locks on the front door and the windows, to be sure they were all secured.

"Jake's coming over," I said.

"So you're making sure he can't get in? Suzanne, I've heard of playing hard to get, but you're taking it to entirely new levels."