Mrs. Ellsworth nodded. “He’s changed a lot since he met you.”

Yes, he had, Sarah thought, and she had changed, too. She’d never thought she’d be able to love again after losing Tom, and she’d certainly never thought she could love a policeman.

MAEVE HAD OBVIOUSLY WANTED TO HEAR ALL ABOUT THE séance the moment Sarah had walked in the door, but she knew better than to discuss it in front of Catherine. She had to wait until Catherine was tucked snuggly into bed and she could slip downstairs to find Sarah in the kitchen, still cleaning up after supper.

“I’ll do that,” Maeve said, taking the dishtowel from Sarah’s hand. “Sit yourself down and tell me everything that happened!”

Sarah did. Maeve listened attentively, asking only the occasional clarifying question. When Sarah was finished, Maeve sat down across from her at the kitchen table and considered what she had heard for several moments.

“Well?” Sarah prodded after a while.

“Well, what?” Maeve asked in surprise.

“What do you think? Was any of it real?”

Maeve shrugged. “It’s easy enough to change your voice and pretend you’re somebody else.”

“But she sounded like a man,” Sarah protested.

“Like I said, actors change their voices all the time.”

“What about the baby crying?”

“I don’t know. I’d have to see the room. There’s ways to do that, though. Have you ever seen a magician?”

“Yes, I have.”

“Do you think he really makes things appear out of thin air?”

“Of course not. It’s a trick.”

“Madame Serafina probably knows some tricks, too.”

Sarah frowned. “I’m sure she does. The truly amazing thing wasn’t that we heard a baby cry but that she knew about the baby in the first place, or rather that Yellow Feather or whoever it was knew about it.”

“Did you talk about Maggie and her baby while you were waiting with the other people?”

“No, I’m sure we didn’t. Why would that matter?”

“She might be able to overhear what people are talking about while they’re waiting. That would be a good way to get private information about them.”

“She wouldn’t have heard us talking about Maggie. In fact, my mother even asked Madame Serafina if she needed to know who we wanted to contact. Madame said no, so she knew nothing about us before we arrived.”

“I doubt that,” Maeve scoffed. “People know a lot about Mrs. Felix Decker.”

Sarah hadn’t thought of that. “I suppose that’s true.”

“And didn’t you say your mother’s friend was the one who told her about this and invited her to come? She probably told Madame everything she knew.”

“But she didn’t know about Maggie’s baby. Nobody knows that except our family.”

“I know,” Maeve reminded her.

Sarah laid a hand on Maeve’s arm where it rested on the table. “You’re family,” she said, remembering how Maeve had recently risked her life to help solve the mystery of Tom Brandt’s murder.

Maeve blinked at her in surprise. “Oh,” was all she could manage for several seconds.

Sarah hurried on before Maeve’s emotions got the better of her. “So you see, Madame couldn’t have known about Maggie’s baby.”

“Maybe it was a lucky guess. Lots of babies die. I’m sure somebody else in the room could’ve thought it was a baby in their family, too, if your mother hadn’t spoken up first.”

Sarah hadn’t thought of that. “You’re probably right.”

“I wish I knew more about this séance business. I could explain to Mrs. Decker how they do it, and she’d be cured of ever wanting to go back.”

“I’m hoping she’s already cured.”

“Well, if she’s not, ask her to take me along next time. At least I could pretend I believe in it.”

“I could’ve pretended I believed in it if I’d wanted to,” Sarah protested, pretending to be insulted.

But Maeve was shaking her head. “You’re an awful liar, Mrs. Brandt.”

“Some people would consider that a compliment,” Sarah reminded her.

“Yes,” Maeve agreed with a grin. “Some people would.”

MRS. DECKER ARRIVED THE NEXT DAY WITH A NEW PICTURE book for Catherine. She didn’t mention Maggie or the séance, and Sarah believed she had put it all behind her. The next two weeks passed uneventfully. Sarah delivered a few babies, and her mother chanced to visit when she was out, so they hadn’t seen each other again. Then one day, her doorbell rang.

Catherine and Maeve hurried to answer it. Sarah thought it would be a summons to another delivery until she heard Maeve call.

“Mrs. Brandt, there’s a policeman here to see you.”

She didn’t sound alarmed, but Sarah knew this couldn’t be good news. She hurried out of the kitchen and through the front room that served as her medical office into the entry hall. She found the girls staring at a handsome young man in a blue uniform. He held his hat in both hands in front of his chest, and he was staring at Maeve with more than a little interest.

“Officer Donatelli?” Sarah asked in surprise.

He looked up. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Brandt,” he said, suddenly all business. “I’m sorry to bother you, but Detective Sergeant Malloy sent me to fetch you.”

“What for?” she asked in surprise. She hadn’t heard from Malloy for weeks and she knew he’d never send for her unless it was something very serious.

“There’s been some trouble…” He glanced meaningfully at Catherine, who was listening intently to every word.

“Maeve, would you take Catherine upstairs?” Sarah asked, worried herself now.

Plainly, neither girl wanted to miss hearing Officer Donatelli’s news, but they obediently marched up the stairs. When they were safely out of earshot, Sarah asked urgently, “Is Malloy all right?”

“Oh, yes, ma’am,” he hastened to assure her. “He just… Well, it’s your mother, you see.”

“My mother!” she echoed in alarm. “Has she been injured?”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. She’s fine, just fine. It’s just…”

“What is it!” she demanded impatiently when he hesitated.

“Well, I’m sorry to say that there’s been a murder.”

“Who was murdered? Someone I know?”

“I don’t know if you do or not, but it happened at a séance.”

“A séance! At Madame Serafina’s?”

“Yes, ma’am, that’s it, on Waverly Place.”

“And my mother was there?” Sarah asked, almost wailing in despair.

“I’m afraid she was. That’s why they called for Detective Sergeant Malloy. She asked for him special.”

Of course she had. She knew he would handle everything with the utmost discretion. If he could. If anyone could. What would happen when the press found out that someone had been murdered at a séance attended by a half-dozen socially prominent citizens, one of them Mrs. Felix Decker?

“And he sent me to get you,” Officer Donatelli was saying. “He wanted you to make sure your mother gets home all right.”

Sarah sighed wearily. “I’ll get my things.”