Always the historian.

"If it was worth more," Julie said, "I'd be back in the bas.e.m.e.nt, searching for something else to donate. Maybe Millie won't want to let it go, and I'll be back to the drawing board anyway. For all I know, it belonged to her great-great-grandfather or something."

"You have enough to worry about right now. The donation can slide," Daniel said in a clear effort to calm her.

"A guest died during my watch," Julie said with a little more emotion than she expected. "I will not disappoint the elementary school fundraisers."

Daniel looked like he wanted to jump up and hug her, but Julie waved her hand to indicate she was OK. "It's just been a frustrating weekend-all of us packed in here."

"Have the police given you any idea about when they'll release the scene?" Daniel asked. "That'll help."

"No," Julie said with a shake of her head. "A few officers were in and out today, but it was chaos here. I didn't get to talk to them. I have no idea what kind of progress they've made, if any."

A knock sounded on the door. "Julie?"

"Come in, Hannah."

Her pet.i.te a.s.sistant opened the door and stepped inside. "Oh. Hi, Daniel."

Julie was struck by how much Hannah and Carrie Windsor resembled each other with their elfin features and gla.s.ses-although Carrie blended in with the wallpaper every chance she got, and Hannah somehow stood out no matter how much she tried not to.

"Is something wrong?" Julie asked.

Hannah sighed. "Shirley suggested that I make simpler treats for the tearoom. She said these gawkers are a bit ... different. She thinks something more workaday would make us more money."

"'Workaday'?" Daniel echoed.

Hannah glanced at him. "You know. Ordinary."

"Sure." He chuckled. "I've just never heard the term used to describe tearoom snacks."

Hannah turned back toward Julie. "Shirley suggested sugar cookies. With frosting." She made it sound as if the mere mention would poison anyone within in a three-mile radius.

"I was thinking chocolate chip cookies," Julie said. "Everyone likes those."

"Or marshmallow treats," Daniel said.

Julie saw the twinkle in his eye as he made Hannah squirm.

"Oh, yeah. Those are the best," Julie chimed in. "With rainbow sprinkles mixed in."

"I've worked hard for the past six months to bring a certain standard of baking to the tearoom," Hannah said, clearly barely containing her indignation. "Sugar cookies and rainbow sprinkles would undermine everything I've built."

Julie and Daniel both broke into laughter.

"You were kidding me?" Hannah asked.

Julie answered with a nod as she continued to laugh.

"OK, you were kidding me." Hannah cracked a smile as she recovered her composure. "Not nice." She looked between them, settling her mock glare on Daniel. "You started it. You're a bad influence."

"Hey, I'm just glad she laughed about something." He held up his hands in surrender. "You ladies are tense."

Julie sat back in her seat and collected herself. "The kitchen is your domain. I bow to your expertise."

Hannah beamed. "Thank you. I could just picture the horrified look on Millie's face if she came in and we were serving ..." She shook her head.

Yeah, there was that. Millie expected them to maintain high standards. Selling the same fare as the grocery store bakery would never cut it.

"Will you talk to Shirley about it?" Hannah asked. "I mean, I think it would be better coming from you."

Julie nodded. "Of course."

"Thanks." Hannah opened the door and stepped into the hallway just as Inga pushed past her and entered the office.

"What is this?" Inga demanded with a scowl. She held up a small s.p.a.ce heater and a timer. "And what is it doing shoved underneath the armoire in the front room?"

"You found that in the sitting room?" Julie asked.

"When I was vacuuming. It's junky, and it collects dust."

Julie furrowed her brows. "I have no idea. I certainly didn't put it there."

"Let me see that," Daniel said, reaching for the heater. He examined it, poking at a wayward wire that stuck out from the bottom. "You found it plugged into that timer?"

Inga nodded and dropped the timer onto the desk like it had the plague. "Waste of energy. No one needs a heater this time of year."

Daniel quirked a brow. "They do if they're trying to blow a fuse at a certain time. Looks like it's been tampered with to increase the amps that it draws. It would only need to click on for a moment to trip the main breaker."

Julie nodded slowly, his meaning sinking in. "That's it. This solves the mystery of why the lights went out earlier than planned. The question is, who did it?"

Inga harrumphed. "Someone with absolutely no common sense."

Julie opened her mouth to respond, but the sounds of angry shouts floated into the office and cut her off.

"What now?" she asked, jumping out of her seat.

SEVEN.

This is what I get for taking a break, Julie thought, hurrying to the tearoom.

The yelling continued as she and Daniel entered the room. He let out a shrill whistle. Everyone fell silent.

Julie scanned the faces of her weekend guests. They seemed to have grouped themselves into factions. Gregory and Kenneth stood toe to toe. Susan hovered behind her husband. Carrie lingered off to one side next to Joyce and Sadie, while Liam remained seated. It was a clear picture of "us versus them," with Gregory being "us" and everyone else being "them." When had he come back downstairs?

"Would someone please tell me what's going on in here?" Julie asked, looking at each one of them in turn. It was apparently a bad choice of phrasing, for no one moved. "OK then." She glanced around again. "Sadie," she said. The older woman jumped. "Why was everyone yelling?"

Sadie cast a suspicious eye at Gregory and then patted her big white purse with a wrinkled hand. "I don't know the whole story, dear," she started, her fingers on her bag and her gaze still glued to the big man. "But it seems that Gregory here accused Kenneth of cheating at checkers."

"That's right," Gregory said. "I did."

"Who cheats at checkers?" Daniel asked.

"Exactly," Kenneth muttered through clenched teeth as he continued to glare at the other man.

"My point as well." Gregory narrowed his eyes at Kenneth. "If a man will cheat at checkers, what else is he capable of?"

"Are you actually suggesting that Kenneth had something to do with the murder?" Susan's voice was shrill with disbelief.

Gregory raised one brow. "Why should he be above suspicion? Because he plays with feet all day?"

Kenneth started toward him, but Daniel pulled him back. In an instant, Liam was on his feet, restraining Gregory.

Julie shot Daniel a grateful look. He gave her a tiny nod and then urged Kenneth across the room.

"Come with me," she said to Gregory, leading him away. As they headed across the room, she noticed that he still held the fire poker in his hand. "And give me that." She wrested the tool from his hand as they moved to a table away from the others.

He sat down with his back to the wall, and she supposed she couldn't find fault with his choice. Everyone was walking on pins and needles. Julie joined him at the table, hoping to defuse his anger, but not confident that she was the right person for the job.

"Would you like to tell me what happened?" Julie asked.

"No."

"Tell me anyway."

Gregory sighed with a whistly sound that seemed to expel a great deal of his tension. "That guy," he said with a nod toward Kenneth.

"What about him?" she asked. "He seems nice enough."

"A little too nice, don't you think? He came in grumpy that first day, but since Alice died, he's been nothing but smiles."

"That doesn't mean he's guilty of murder," she said.

"I suppose not, but ..." He looked out toward the front of the inn.

"But what?"

Gregory turned back to stare at his hands as they rested on the table. "I wasn't going to say anything, but the night of the murder, I heard a man and a woman talking. And they did not sound happy."

Julie tried to ignore the p.r.i.c.kle at the base of her spine, but it was there all the same. "When was this?"

"Before dinner," Gregory said. "I was in my room, getting ready, and I heard voices outside."

"What were they saying?"

"Something about a book-or maybe it was books." He shrugged. "I don't know, like accounting or something."

Books. And Alice worked for Eric Rutherford, book expert. Coincidence or setup? "Did you recognize their voices?"

Gregory shook his head. "But when I looked outside, I saw her. It was Alice Peyton, all right."

"And you think she was talking to Kenneth?"

"I know she was."

"You saw him too, then?"

"No, but I saw a man reach out and grab her arm. I could just see his sleeve. That blue revolutionary jacket he had on was distinctive, wouldn't you say?"

Absolutely.

Julie sat back, her mind scrambling to process the implication.

"Here's the other thing," Gregory added. "Kenneth was sitting next to Alice at dinner. He was the closest person to Alice just before she died."

"So, how did this all start, exactly?" Julie asked Shirley after everyone had vacated the room, leaving only the two of them and Daniel in the tearoom.

"That Gregory Wilson." Shirley frowned. "He started accusing everyone of all sorts of things. Evidently, he spent his afternoon doodling everyone."

"Doodling?" Julie asked.

"You know, on the computer."

"Oh. Googling." Julie hid her smile.

"He said that Kenneth is spending all his money putting his kids through college. As if that's some kind of crime."

"I wonder if that's why Susan looks so ... forlorn," Julie said. It was the nicest word she could think of to describe the woman. Susan had lost all the sparkle she had when she arrived at the inn on Friday afternoon.

"It's sad," Shirley whispered. "Her nerves are clearly shot."

"Anything else of note?"

Shirley shrugged, her crystal earrings glittering in the lights. "Nothing really. Once the shouting started, I couldn't make out much detail."

"Thanks, Shirley. Keep your eyes open, OK? Let me know if you see anything suspicious."

The redhead nodded. "I will."

Julie watched the woman walk away and then turned back to Daniel. "How did it go with Kenneth?"