"What about Sheila's eyes?"

"She had some subconjunctival hemorrhages and she complained about pain. Nothing that wouldn't take time to heal. Nancy Reinhardt came in around six o'clock to see Sheila on her way out."

I stood up and started for the door. I heard footsteps going down the hall. "Thank you for your time, Celine."

Celine stood up as well. "Kay, I understand you're my brother's neighbor."

"Yes."

"He likes the neighborhood. And you're friends with Elizabeth?"

Where was she going with this. "Yes."

"He's obsessed with her."

My mouth fell open while my heart raced. Why is she telling me this? It wouldn't hurt to tell a lie, to get Robert off Elizabeth. "Elizabeth's engaged."

"John?"

This was a weird conversation. "Yes."

"Robert likes John very much. He'll be pleased to hear that."

"Why? I thought he liked Elizabeth." Too much. I shouldn't have said that.

"Of course he does. She's why he moved to Sudbury Falls."

Okay, now this conversation was getting weirder. "Really?"

"Well sure. Being her father. You know, don't you, that Elizabeth is Robert's daughter."

Her father? But Elizabeth had grown up in foster homes! Elizabeth didn't know who Robert was. Why was Celine telling me this? Was she tired of all the secrecy and thought it was about time Elizabeth knew? Or did she think Elizabeth already knew? Why hadn't Robert told Elizabeth?

I looked down at my watch. "I'm sorry. I'm late for an appointment. Thank you for letting me look at the log."

I made a hasty retreat, my mind spinning.

Chapter Twenty.

Wednesday, January 7 It was another long night of tossing and turning. I had little sleep, running through what I had just learned about Robert being Elizabeth's father. Would Elizabeth be angry when she found out? Thrilled? Maybe eventually. Why didn't Robert just come out and tell her, instead of being so creepy about everything?

Phil's alarm rang. He turned it off, then reached over and pulled me towards him. I laid in his arms and drifted off to sleep. I woke to Phil kissing me good-bye.

"So early?"

"It's almost eight o'clock. I brought you coffee and the newspaper. They're on your bedside table."

"Thanks, Phil. You're sweet."

I closed my eyes for a few seconds, until the phone rang. "Hello." Sitting up in bed, I reached for the coffee, and took a sip. It was cold. I looked at the time. Nine o'clock.

"Mrs. Driscoll...Kay, this is Chelsey. I remembered something about you know who at the Christmas tea."

"Sheila?"

"Right. I never mentioned it before because it had to do with Viktor, not Les. Any chance you're coming here today?"

"I can." I looked at the clock again. "In about an hour."

"Do you have any more of those eclairs?"

"I'll pick some up on the way."

An hour later, I called Chelsey on her cell after parking in the back lot of Hawthorne Hills.

"I saved my break for when you got here. I'll be right out."

Oh shoot! I forgot the eclairs.

When Chelsey walked towards my car, I noticed a person looking out the backdoor watching her. Oh no!

She opened the car door, got in, and looked around the car.

"Chelsey, close the door. Sheila's standing in the doorway watching us."

"Damn! She must have been looking when I left the kitchen and followed me. What should I do?"

"Let's think of something." I paused a few moments. "Do you ever leave the Home on your breaks?"

"Not often."

"I think I should drive away like we're going to the patisserie. I did forget the eclairs. I rushed over."

Her expression was a mixture of disappointment and worry. "No. I need to go back in. You said Sheila tried to strangle you and now she's watching me."

Chelsey looked towards the door. A tear started trickling down the side of her nose. I handed her a tissue. With trembling hands she took it.

"Okay. Here's another story. I asked you to serve at a dinner party at my home. You'll refuse. Everything will be okay. Please don't worry."

I reached for her hand. It was ice cold. "We need to pull ourselves together." I smiled at her. "Go with my lead. And call me later with what you wanted to tell me."

"I get off of work at two o'clock. I'll call you then."

As we walked towards the building, Sheila came out and lit a cigarette. She shot a piercing look first at Chelsey and then at me.

Within hearing distance of Sheila, I said, "Chelsey, I hope you'll reconsider helping the caterers to serve at my dinner party."

"I'm really not interested, Mrs. Driscoll. Maybe one of the other girls in the kitchen would be. Hi, Sheila," Chelsey said, in a calm voice, and opened the door to the building, glancing back at me, a worried look on her face.

Sheila sat down on the stoop, then said, "Quit harassing my workers. You heard her, she doesn't want to work for you. And stay away from any of my other girls or-"

"I'm not harassing anyone. I only asked for some assistance with a dinner party." I started for the door.

Sheila stood up blocking the door. "La-di-da, lady! You need someone for your hoity-toity dinner party," Sheila said in a mocking voice. Sheila was clearly losing it. "You made quite the fool of yourself at the patisserie. I'm surprised anyone would even want to come to a party of yours."

I turned around on my heels and walked back to the car. I could hear her shrill laughter.

About two-thirty, Chelsey called.

"I hope Sheila didn't give you a hard time when she got back in the kitchen."

"I tried to avoid her, even though she watched everything I did like a hawk."

"What was it you wanted to tell me about the tea?"

"A new girl, Jessie, started the morning of the Christmas tea. Sheila had the tiered trays numbered for specific tables. Jessie messed up on the tables."

And? "How so?"

"Jessie told me she had given Table 2 a tray that was designated for Table 4. One of the guests stopped her on her way saying they needed a refill. She figured she would get a different tray for Table 4. When she came into the kitchen asking for a new tray, Sheila went berserk."

Hmm. Had Sheila purposely started the new girl to work the tea, knowing she could be blamed if necessary for anything, that needed blaming, perhaps even the peanuts?

"Did Jessie prepare any of the food?"

"We all did."

"Please go on."

"Lola had been assigned to Table 6, where Les and Viktor were seated. When they needed another tray of food, she was busy with a resident. I heard her tell Jessie that Sheila had made up some special Russian treat that she thought Viktor would enjoy and to make sure that the tray got to Table 6. By this time Jessie was frazzled."

"So Viktor's and Les' tray was different."

"Yes. But it was because of Viktor. It had nothing to do with Les."

I remembered Lola had said that the food on all the tiered trays was the same, down to the exact number of the cookies. Sheila could have slipped peanut butter into any of the food on that tray. "I'll need to talk to Jessie."

"Sheila fired her the next day. Blamed her for throwing away the food that Dr. Lee told the kitchen to save from Les' table for the police. Before Jessie left, I heard her complain to another girl that Sheila had told her to make sure and clear all the tables before she left."

Sheila's cover-up was itself covered-up as the standard confusion in a busier-than-usual kitchen. Clever. "The poor girl."

With this new information, I decided to go to the police station. I took along what I had collected on Les Hollings and Sheila Harris. Chief Kirk didn't look too pleased to see me.

I told him about Sheila making specific foods for Les' table. I told him about the nurse's log, and the forty-five minute hole in Sheila's alibi when I was attacked. I showed the information I found online about Sheila being the sister of the boy Les had killed.

"Chief Kirk, Sheila had the means, the motive, and the opportunity."

He looked at me for a few moments, then he stood up and walked over to his window before turning around and saying, "Excuse me, Kay. I'll be right back." He left.

I lowered myself onto an edge of one of the chairs facing Kirk's desk and rested my chin in with my hand. What else did Kirk want...blood! Why did I even bother? Would he take anything I said seriously. I shook my head.

About five minutes later, Kirk came back into his office. I straightened up. "We're going to verify these facts. If everything proves to be true, I'll write up the information and personally take it over to the DA. He's a friend of mine. I'll keep you informed if we have enough to arrest Sheila Harris for the murder of Les Hollings. I didn't like that stunt you did making the citizen's arrest at the patisserie. But you may have done some good work here. Thank you."

My eyes went wide. "You're welcome."

While driving home, I decided to go over to Deirdre's. I didn't want to be home alone with Sheila out of jail. Phil still wouldn't be home from school for a while. I wasn't going to mention about Robert Peterson being Elizabeth's father. Elizabeth would learn that first.

I told her about Sheila and the arrest that I hoped was to take place soon. Deirdre was excited at the news.

"Do you think Nancy will bail out Sheila?" Deirdre asked.

"Can you imagine how high the bail would be for first degree, premeditated murder? Plus I would think flight risk could be a real possibility."

"Do you think Nancy's bail was high?"

"I looked it up in the State of Wisconsin Uniform Bail Schedule. Two hundred and fifty dollars."

Her mouth fell open. "That's all?"

"She didn't even have to wait to be arraigned. It was her first offense."

"You mean first time she was caught," Deirdre said.

I sighed. "Right."

"Elizabeth's coming back tomorrow," Deirdre said. "I feel something is going to happen, and soon, between her and Robert."

I shrugged my shoulders. I knew something was going to happen after I told Elizabeth what I had learned. "I'm glad she and John went to visit Dominic. What's her son like?"

"Very nice. Quiet. Talented."

"Must be, to play with the San Francisco Symphony. I would love to learn more about him. I don't know why she doesn't talk about him."