"I hope Raina didn't pay much for the amulet," Cherise said.

"Why?" Ve asked.

"Because if she was hoping to have a child with Kent, she was out of luck. He had a vasectomy about six months ago. Snip. Snip. The Myrian is powerful, but it's not that powerful."

I didn't question how Cherise knew this information. I was just glad she did. "Wouldn't Raina have known that he'd had surgery?"

"Not necessarily," Cherise said. "I've known plenty of men who've secretly gotten snipped. The most common reason is that the spouse wants more kids, but he doesn't want the responsibility of more mouths to feed." She added, "Those relationships don't usually stand the test of time."

No kidding. If he could lie about that kind of thing, then he was bound to lie about other stuff as well. Like a mistress.

Harper said, "Maybe that's what Raina was referring to in that fight when she said he'd made a lot of decisions without her."

I didn't think that's what she'd been talking about. Or else she wouldn't have still been wearing the Myrian. More likely, it had been all the business decisions he'd been making without her input.

"Thanks for these records," I said to Harper, trying to give her a hug.

She playfully pushed me away. "Stop that! And you're welcome."

"Where does this leave you, Darcy?" Ve asked, leaning against the counter, fork in one hand, her plate in the other. "Who are your suspects in Raina's death?"

I took a bite of bacon. "I've only ruled out Kent at this point, because he had an alibi. He was showing a house." Nick had finally confirmed it. "So, there's still Calliope, Noelle, and of course, Andreus."

Ve shook her head. "I don't think he did it."

"Why?" I asked.

"He's a lover, not a fighter."

"Ew," Harper and I said at the same time.

Cherise laughed. "It's true. Besides, he doesn't like messiness. If he'd killed her, it wouldn't have been so bloody. He would have strangled her."

At the mention of blood, I pushed my plate away, my appetite gone.

"Cherise has a point. He did get all squeamish with the drool last night," Harper said, drowning her pancakes in syrup.

Apparently, talk of blood and death only boosted her appetite. "Glinda thinks he's being framed."

"Me, too," Ve said.

"Me three," Cherise added.

I glanced at Harper.

She swallowed. "Me four."

"But he doesn't have an alibi. Not one he'll share, at least," I said.

"Everybody has secrets," Cherise said, color rising to her cheeks.

Ve glanced at her, a small smile on her face. "That's very true."

Nick came back in, and Ve immediately handed him a plate. "Thanks," he said, sitting next to Harper. If he noticed she'd stolen his seat, he didn't say so.

Harper motioned to the phone in his hand. "Something good? Another break-in?"

Her definition of "good" was definitely out of whack.

"The ME's office," he said. "Preliminary report is in, and it looks like someone is trying to frame Andreus."

Three sets of eyes settled on me. I laughed.

Nick lifted an eyebrow in question.

"Him being framed seems to be the general consensus around here," I explained. "What makes you say so?"

"The blood on Raina's finger? The finger she supposedly wrote the letter A with?" he said, stuffing a bite of pancake in his mouth. "Well, it was on her right hand. Raina was left-handed."

Apparently I was the only one who couldn't eat and discuss such things. "It seems to me that anyone who knew her well would know that."

"Like Calliope," Ve added, waving her fork.

"So that just leaves Noelle as a prime suspect," Cherise said as she poured another cup of coffee.

I wasn't really ready to rule anyone out. I'd been fooled by killers before. Plus, if Raina had surprised an intruder, that person might have been in a rush and careless about such details.

Nick added, "Nothing else stood out in the autopsy. The blow to her head will be the cause of death, pending tox results."

Ve said, "Have mercy."

I stood up and gathered dirty dishes, carrying them to the sink to wash. I hoped Raina hadn't suffered at all. That she didn't even grasp what was happening. That she'd never known what a rat-toad her husband had been.

Cherise said, "You know, I've been thinking, Darcy."

"Oh?" I asked.

"About that house on Maypole."

I turned to face her. "You want to take another look? I can call Calliope. . . ." After all, Cherise had hired me to help her find a house, and I wanted to see that task through.

"No, no," she said, rubbing her hands together. "I think we should make an appointment with Noelle, don't you? See what we can wheedle out of her?"

Harper said, "Good idea!"

"Great idea," Nick added, "but I get first dibs. She's coming in for an interview this morning with her lawyer."

Cherise tipped her head. "Then I'll make an appointment for this afternoon. Good with you, Darcy?"

I smiled. It seemed Cherise was still vying for the role of sidekick. "Only if you promise not to wear the leather jumpsuit."

Ve coughed and said, "The leather what?"

Cherise lifted her chin imperiously. "I'll promise no such thing."

Shaking my head, I looked for Missy to give her a tiny scrap of bacon-one of her favorites. She wasn't in her dog bed. "Where's Missy? Outside?"

"I didn't see her when I was out there," Nick said.

I groaned. "Scott Whiting strikes again."

"What's he have to do with Missy?" Harper asked.

"She has a crush on him," I said.

Ve fanned her face. "Who doesn't?"

Cherise shot her a curious look. Ve smiled sweetly.

The phone rang and Harper jumped up to get it. "The loony bin, Harper speaking. . . . Oh hey, Evan. . . . Sure. Hold on." Harper carried the handset over to me. "For you."

I wiped my hands and took it. "Hello?"

"Darcy," Evan said tightly.

"What's wrong?" I asked. I heard the buzzing of an oven timer and murmured voices in the background. Bakery noises.

"Is there something you might have forgotten to tell me?"

"I don't think-" I gasped. "Finn."

"Yes, Finn. I thought we agreed to interviews only."

"Well, ah . . ."

"Could you please come over?"

I couldn't help but smile at his aggrieved tone. "I'll be there in ten minutes. Don't fire him until I have a chance to talk to you."

"I'll give you nine minutes; then all bets are off."

Chapter Eighteen.

Nick walked with me across the green, holding my hand the whole way.

It was such a simple thing. Two hands linked together by entwined fingers. Yet, it felt like more. It felt like . . . security. Comfort. Unity. Together . . . we could conquer anything.

"I saw your face when you were telling everyone that the Tavistock house sold," he said, watching me carefully. "You were more attached to that house than I thought."

"I know you never cared for it. . . ."

He bumped me with his arm. "Just because I wouldn't have picked it doesn't mean that I can't understand why you'd like it."

Nick liked having a big yard with plenty of space between him and the neighbors. His garage at his farmhouse was enormous, with high ceilings and plenty of room for his woodshop. The single-car garage at the Tavistock house was falling in on itself.

"It's so silly," I said, not trying to deny it. Not with him. "I never could have afforded it. Yet . . . I don't know. It just felt right. Plus, you have a wonderful house. Big. Lots of space." My cheeks suddenly heated. "You know, down the road. If . . . I mean . . . Well . . ." I cut myself off before I shoved my foot any farther into my mouth.

Crow's-feet stretched from the corners of his eyes as he smiled. "It does. Plenty of room. Not if. When."

My stomach went all gooey. "When," I confirmed.

"And you're more than welcome to help me redecorate any time you want. Single-dad-style isn't all that inviting."

"It's plenty inviting."

"You lie. I have a sheet covering my bedroom window."

I laughed. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that."

Grinning, he said, "And let's not even discuss the shower curtain."

"I'm growing fond of the mildew."

"See? Uninviting."

Squeezing his hand, I said, "Doesn't matter how the place is decorated. As long as you're there and Mimi is there, then it's inviting. Even Higgins, though I could do without the drool."

Clouds shifted, and the village immediately brightened as though transforming from black and white to color. Dew sparkled on the grass and bird chatter filled the air. The coo of the mourning dove was easy to pick out among the songbirds.

"Everyone can do without the drool," he said. "But even still, maybe we can go shopping for some things . . . The mildew needs to be evicted."

I stopped, looked at him. Nick hated shopping. "What is all this? Are you just trying to get my mind off the Tavistock house?"

Nodding sheepishly, he said, "Yes."

There was that gooey feeling again. "All right. Shopping. When?"

"Tonight?"

I'd already had plans to spend the night at Nick's, as I did most weekends. At first I slept over only when Mimi wasn't home-at sleepovers of her own-but gradually over the past five months, it just became natural for me to stay even when she was home. It became less about Nick and me and more about . . . family.