Diva Runs Out Of Thyme

Offer to make the cranberry sauce. There’s nothing simpler. All you need are cranberries, water, and sugar. The recipe is on the back of every bag of fresh cranberries. Dump all three ingredients together, bring them to a boil, then turn down the heat and let cook for five minutes. Just watch them to be sure they don’t bubble over. They won’t be ruined if they do, but you’ll have a big mess on your hands, so don’t walk away from them. The sauce is delicious hot or cold.

—Sophie

“Sophie,” whispered Hannah, “I’m so sorry. The killer is your pal, Bernie.”

I should have felt fearful or anxious. Instead, sadness enveloped me. “Everyone else is there?”

“Not yet. But Bernie peeled off while we were walking down here. Like he couldn’t wait. He muttered something about having to check on a friend and that he’d catch up with us at the restaurant.”

A friend? Did he go to alert Mrs. Pulchinski? She could come to search the house while he had an alibi, eating dinner with us and the detective in charge of the case. What a coup. “Is Wolf there?”

“Not yet. Mars and Natasha are here, though.”

Had Bernie returned the key he borrowed? What if he hadn’t gone to see Mrs. Pulchinski? What if he doubled back and was already in the house? “Call me back when everyone’s there,” I hissed and hung up.

I had to know about the key. The old floors creaked underneath me when I stood up. I’d never make it to the console in the foyer to check on the key without being heard. Grasping the Taser firmly, I scanned the sunroom and the backyard. When it seemed the coast was clear, I snuck into the dark hallway to the foyer. I couldn’t risk turning on a light. I placed the Taser on the console so I could pull the drawer with both hands. It squeaked when I opened it. Unwilling to pull it completely open, I slid my hand in and felt around.

My phone vibrated again. I couldn’t answer. It would have to wait.

The key wasn’t in the drawer and I couldn’t recall Bernie handing it back to me. Wasn’t that the night he came home so late? I heard a thunk and jumped. My breathing sounded raspy in the still house. I scuttled back to the den to wait for Bernie. Positioned in a crouch near the door to the living room again, I flipped open the phone and called Nina.

“He’s in the house!” she screamed.

She had to mean Bernie. But where was he? “What did you see?”

“Either he used a key or he’s really good at picking locks. He went in through the front door. Glanced around a little like he was checking to be sure no one saw him.”

“It’s Bernie,” I whispered.

“Wait . . .”

I could hear rustling sounds and assumed she needed both hands for the binoculars. “There’s someone else. He’s going in through the kitchen door.”

Something soft brushed my knee and I stifled a squeal. Mochie purred loudly at my feet.

“I have to call Hannah!” I hung up and dialed Hannah’s number. “Who’s missing?”

“Sophie!” she said in a conversational tone. “Are you coming soon? Almost everyone is here now. We’re still waiting for Bernie and Humphrey. Vicki isn’t here yet, either, but she’s coming. Andrew says she promised to bring meringues to her office tomorrow and she’s waiting for them to finish baking so she can take them out of the oven.”

“Okay, thanks.” I flipped the phone shut. Humphrey. I never would have thought it. But if Humphrey was the killer, why was Bernie here? My head throbbed. My hands were clammy. My breath sounded like a winded elephant. I forced myself to breath shallowly. I couldn’t. I would pass out.

Okay, Sophie. Slow, deep breaths. Stay alert.

The phone vibrated. I flipped it open, wishing the LED wasn’t so darned bright. I covered it with one of Bernie’s shirts.

“It’s the darndest thing,” said Nina. “Now somebody’s watching your house from a parked car.”

I heard something in the living room. “Hang on, Nina,” I whispered. The person was making no effort whatsoever to hide his presence. I leaned forward and peeped. The beam from headlights of a car driving by flashed through the living room for a moment. Long enough for me to see Mochie jump to the top of the grandfather clock.

Where were the two people Nina had seen entering the house? I recognized the squeal of the drawer in the foyer console. Bernie. He must be putting the key back.

Or was the killer looking for the poison vial?

Nina’s voice screeched on the phone. I held it to my ear.

“Somebody’s running to your house. He’s going for the kitchen door. Having trouble opening it.”