"Mrs. Gray?" I said, dumbfounded.

Tootie started to look at the wall again, then turned back to me. "You think just because someone is old and gray they're sweet and stupid." "

I do not. You, for example, are neither sweet nor stupid."

We glared at each other for a while. Then she held out her hand. "What do you want me to look at?"

"These," I said and pulled out the photocopies Ambrose had given me.

She took the first one and held it at arm's length. "Hand me those," she said, pointing to her dresser. I saw a pair of blackrimmed reading gla.s.ses and retrieved them for her. She perched them on her nose and peered at the group of people on the page.

"This is my family, just before all the boys left home. And this is my husband-" she glanced at me over her gla.s.ses, "-who had been spending more time than he should have with Miss Mavis Smart for almost two years by then. And the girl is that good-fornothing Cherry Dodds."

"You're sure that's Cherry Dodds?"

"Of course I'm sure. I remember the day her sister took this picture. What can this have to do with Walter's death?"

My heart beat a little faster. "And this woman? Do you recognize her?"

Tootie studied the photocopy of Grace Thorson's license. Her eyes narrowed and found mine. "She's back?"

"Who?" I asked, just to make sure.

"Cherry."

"Do you remember her real name?"

She pursed her lips. "Grace. Grace Dodds."

"Well," I said, taking the page back from Tootie. "I guess the answer is yes, then. She's back"

THIRTY-SIX.

THE SMELL OF PEANUT b.u.t.ter cookies. .h.i.t me like a sledgehammer when I opened the front door. Meghan was pulling a pan of them out of the oven, while Erin sat at the table and flattened another batch onto a cookie sheet with a fork dipped in sugar.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

Meghan straightened. "We decided Erin would be safer with us. And she promised to be very, very careful." She gave her daughter a look, to which Erin responded with an earnest nod.

"Well, I'm glad," I said.

"Why?" Erin asked.

"Because I like having you around."

She grinned. "You just want a cookie, huh?"

"You bet. Gimme."

She grabbed one off the pile on the plate beside her and handed it to me. Fiifteen seconds later she had to give me another one.

"Don't spoil your dinner," Meghan said, but her voice was mild. I looked at Erin, but she wasn't eating anything.

Oh.

"I won't," I said around the second cookie. "What're we having?"

"Pizza. It's on the way."

"Thank G.o.d. I don't feel up to cooking tonight. I've just been over talking to Tootie."

"What'd she have to say?"

Since Meghan didn't give me any sign that she didn't want Erin to hear, I told her how Tootie was doing, and about our conversation. When I'd left, Tootie had still been lying in bed, but at least she seemed to inhabit her own body again. She hadn't had any other pictures of Cherry, though. I'd also driven by Richard's apartment on my way home, but the windows were dark, and I didn't see his car or the white Camry he'd been driving with his mother the day of Walter's memorial service.

"She didn't want Walter's things?" Meghan asked.

"Only that one picture."

She c.o.c.ked her head at her daughter. "What's wrong, Bug?"

Erin looked thoughtful. "Nothing's wrong. I was just thinking.. .since Grandma Grace was married to Walter, that makes Walter my grandpa, right?"

Meghan glanced at me and seemed to make a decision. "Yes. And I bet he knew it, too, because he kind of acted like a grandpa, didn't he?"

I piped up. "Do you want any of his stuff? The photos are kind of cool. And there are a couple books, and a funny bank shaped like a chicken."

Erin made a face. "Nah" Saw her mother's look. "I mean, no thank you."

Ah, unsentimental youth.

But she wasn't finished. "So his mom would be my grandma, too?"

"Your great-grandma," Meghan said. "She was the lady with the white hair you met at the funeral. Do you like the idea of having a great-grandma?"

Erin considered. "I only met her once. I'd want to know her better before I decide whether I like the idea or not."

Meghan and I couldn't help smiling. "That makes sense," Meghan said. Given how Erin's last "new grandma" encounter had turned out, I had to agree.

"I'm going to call Debby and see if she wants any of Walter's things," I said Meghan nodded. "Good idea."

After we ate pizza and Erin had gone up to do her homework, I asked Meghan, "Do you really think Walter knew she was his granddaughter?"

"You know, thinking back on how he was with her, I really do."

"You're from Seattle."

"Yeah"

"And Richard's from California."

She nodded.

"Then how the heck did you two end up in Cadyville, where Richard was born? Unless he's known about Walter all along?"

Meghan stared off into s.p.a.ce for a few moments. Then she looked at me and shook her head. "I could be wrong, but I don't think he knew. At least, not that Walter was his father. He would have acted differently around him. Richard might have known he'd been born here though. I don't know. It was his idea to move here. I didn't want to, thought living in a small town would be too boring. But he talked me into it."

"Did he want to move to any small town, or just to Cadyville?"

"Just Cadyville. See, he went to the University of Washington, at least he did for a year before he quit to sell office machinery, because his mother told him that was the one school she didn't want him to attend"

"He rebelled."

"Uh huh. And he told me she used to talk about Cadyvilleshe hated it-so one day we came up here, and it turned out to be this cool little town. He decided then and there this was where he wanted to live."

"The best way for his mother to keep him away from Cadyville would have been to tell him how great it was."

Meghan laughed. "Right. She might as well have bought him a plane ticket and a map for all her insistence that he stay away."

"When you were married, did he ever go visit his mother in California? Or suggest that you all go?"

"Never. I only met her one time, when we drove down the coast before we were married." "

"She treats him like c.r.a.p," I said. "Or she did the other night."

I noticed that. And he takes it. No wonder he wanted to live someplace she wouldn't want to visit."

Debby wasn't home when I called, but she had an answering machine, and I left a message about Walter's things. I went downstairs, put molds for the lotion bars in the dishwasher to sterilize, and gathered the ingredients for the next day. I had just finished rubbing arnica oil into my bruises again and putting on my pajamas, when she called me back.

"Yes, I want anything you have of Walter's. When can I come over?"

"I'm making an early night of it," I said. "Can you come over in the morning?"

"Um, not until about eleven. Is that okay?"

"Sure. Come around to the back door. I'll see you then."

Meghan had taken off for her infant ma.s.sage cla.s.s, so Erin and I flopped on the sofa together to read. Erin seemed restless, which at first I put down to too much excitement. But she didn't settle down, and she had a peculiar look on her face. Finally, I put my book down.

"What's up?"

"I feel kind of funny," she said.

"Sick funny?" I put my hand on her forehead. Felt a little hot.

"I don't know."

I went into the bathroom and hunted up a thermometer. She had a temperature of one hundred point two. Not too bad, but she was coming down with something. I gave her some Tylenol and bundled her into bed. She was asleep by the time I went to bed at nine.

I was still reading Margery Allingham when I heard the front door open downstairs. Brodie didn't bark, so I knew it was Meghan, and minutes later she stood in my doorway saying good night.

"Erin's got a fever," I said, and filled her in.

"Poor kid," she said. "The stress of the past week has probably weakened her immune system. I'll keep her home tomorrow. Can you watch her after two?"

"Sure. How'd the cla.s.s go?"

"It went well. Eight couples showed up. Three heard about me through word of mouth."

"The best advertising. Oh, hey, I forgot to tell you. Ann over at Caladia Acres asked me to tell you that you 'got the ma.s.sage gig.' And something about the board needing to approve the cla.s.ses you wanted to offer the staff?"

Meghan looked pleased. "Oh, good. I was hoping they'd let me work on the residents."

"So, you're going to be around tomorrow morning?"

"Uh huh. I have two clients in the early afternoon, but I'm open in the morning. Why?"

"Debby Silverman's coming over around eleven." And I related what Ambrose had told me about Debby's manic-depression and past violence.

Meghan looked unhappy. "That poor woman. No wonder her brother's so anxious about her. But I'm surprised Ambrose told you her diagnosis. He must really be worried about you."

"I think he was more worried about her criminal record. But frankly, I'm more concerned about Grace."

"So am L"

I was out by ten. And awake again at midnight. After listening to the quiet and staring at the ceiling in the dark for almost an hour, I got up and padded downstairs. I thought I'd seen some melatonin in the kitchen cupboard, and if I had to, I'd suffer through a cup of valerian tea, even though the stuff tasted like sour dirt. I needed to sleep.