“What?” Skye frowned.

“Most people find their eighty-year-old grandmother dead, say a prayer of thanks that she’s out of her misery, and call the family doctor. But not Miss Big Shot. Like Neal says, it’s not healthy the way you always have your nose in a book. You want to live like they do inside the pages of your latest novel. So you involve the police and the coroner and God knows who else. Now instead of a quiet funeral, we’ve got a situation. You’re just never happy unless it’s your way. And look what you’ve gotten us into.” Mona finished without raising her voice. “I’ll bet you didn’t even call Father Burns. It’s a good thing I had him out here Sunday to give Mom and the housekeeper confession and communion.”

The silence around the table was broken only by the scraping back of Skye’s chair as she stood. She walked to the sink and ran cold water as she took a glass from the cabinet. Bingo wandered in and sat at her feet.

After her drink, she turned to the room full of staring faces. “Well, it sure is enlightening to hear what you truly think of me, Mona. I’d share my insights about you, but it would upset my mother and she’s already been through enough today. But, be warned, if you ever speak to me like that again I won’t restrain myself. Understand?”

Vince came over and stood beside Skye.

Mona’s features stiffened and she opened her mouth.

Before she could speak Neal said, “Drop it, Mona.”

“But, Neal.” Her voice sounded whiny and a drop of sweat ran down her temple. “It’s pretty bad when a person is threatened by her own niece on the day her mother dies.”

Neal put his hand on her wrist, his fingers digging into the soft skin. “I said, drop it.”

Skye looked at the people around the table and saw no sympathy for her aunt.

Mona’s tone changed. “Darling, this has all been too much for me. I’m feeling faint. Could I have a drink?”

Neal got up and went to the sink. He filled a glass of water and put it in front of Mona. When Mona didn’t immediately reach for it, he asked, “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Not the kind of drink you had in mind?”

Conversation died after Mona’s outburst, lethargy seeming to take over. The sound of a car door slamming made them all look up. Knocking on the door startled them. No one ever knocked at Grandma’s.

When everyone remained seated, Skye shrugged and went down the steps to see who was there. It was a little after ten-thirty at night, not a time many people in Scumble River came calling.

Simon was standing on the concrete apron, dressed in a black suit and white shirt. His expression was grim. “May I come in?”

“You might want to reconsider that request. The situation hasn’t brought out the best in the family.”

“Then they’re really not going to like what I have to say. Let’s get it over with.”

Skye tried to question him, but he insisted on speaking to everyone at once. They walked into the kitchen together, but Simon stayed at the door and Skye rejoined Vince by the sink.

Simon cleared his throat. His gaze swept the room. “First, let me say I’m sorry for your loss. I was fortunate to get to know Antonia when Skye brought me out to visit, and she was a special lady who will be missed by everyone. Sadly, it is my conclusion, as coroner consulting with Doctor Zello, her personal physician, that she did not die of natural causes.”

As Simon spoke, the twins started to cry, a twitch appeared near Dante’s eye, and Hugo blew his nose. But upon hearing Simon’s last sentence, everyone froze.

Finally, Dante pushed his way over to Simon. Thumping his index finger into Simon’s chest, he shouted, “What are you talking about? If this is some sick joke…”

Simon pushed Dante’s finger aside and went on as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “We found some irregularities when we examined her. This means we will have to perform an autopsy. I will take care of that as soon as possible and let you know when you can make funeral arrangements.”

A stunned silence followed until May asked, “By not dying of natural causes, do you mean…?”

Simon nodded. “We suspect she was murdered.”

One, Two, What Should We Do?

Suddenly voices bounced off the walls and filled the small room. Dante’s was the loudest: “What is the meaning of this? You can’t go cutting up someone just to prove you’re a big shot to your girlfriend.” He flung a look at Skye. “Skye, tell him you don’t want your grandmother to have to go through this.”

Skye considered her response. Simon would understand if she didn’t admit that it was her idea in the first place. And Wally and Doc Zello would never tell. But she believed an autopsy was necessary, and it would be spineless not to say so.

Everyone was looking at her, waiting. Vince moved closer.

“I’m sorry, Uncle Dante. I can’t ask Simon not to do an autopsy because I’m the one who talked him into it.”

The roar of voices was deafening, and this time May’s rose above the rest. “Oh, Skye, why?”

Looking at her mother’s face, which seemed to have aged ten years since that morning, Skye was torn. Maybe she should have just let things be. Why did she always seem to be the one stirring the pot?

She had taken too long to answer and now others were shouting questions.

Skye pushed off from the sink and stood straight. “Because when I got here-”

Simon broke in. “Skye, I don’t think you should discuss what you saw. I’m sure the chief would not want that information disseminated.”

The room began to buzz again. Skye heard various bits but couldn’t tell who said them.

“What do you think she saw?”

“Anyone know where Mrs. J is?”

“She’s probably making this whole thing up.”

Most of the babbling stopped at the sound of the door slamming. The appearance of Chief Boyd at the top of the stairs silenced the rest. He looked at Simon, who nodded.

“You all have my sympathies for your loss. I’m sorry that circumstances aren’t different, but I’m sure you all want to know if Antonia was murdered, and if so by whom. The only one who would gain by the termination of this investigation would be the killer.”

When Chief Boyd finished speaking, Skye noticed that the atmosphere in the room began to change. Now her aunts, uncles, and cousins were eyeing each other, perhaps wondering who had been loudest in their objections. Chairs shifted slightly and they appeared to withdraw into themselves.

Chief Boyd allowed them to digest what he had said a little longer, then went on. “We have put an all points bulletin out on the housekeeper. Now, you can all understand when I ask you to leave this house immediately. We will need to keep it secured until we know if it is a crime scene or not, so please do not return without my permission. Also, anyone who went into any room besides the kitchen tonight, please stay behind for a few minutes.”

Some grumbled, but everyone started to gather their belongings and move toward the door. As they formed a natural line, Wally stopped each one of them and asked them to come into the police station the next day to make a statement.

Mona, Ginger, and Hugo admitted to taking a chair from the dining room, but stated they’d gone no farther into the house.

Everyone else had left by the time the Denisons reached the front of the line. Jed, Vince, and May had been through the entire house except the bedrooms. Skye, of course, had been everywhere.

When he heard this, Chief Boyd shook his head. “Okay, well, Skye, I guess that means first thing tomorrow we fingerprint you.”

“Great. When’s first thing to you guys?”

“How about eight?” He didn’t look up from the notes he was taking.

“How about nine?” Skye wasn’t a morning person, and since she’d be taking a personal day due to her grandmother’s death, it would be nice to sleep in a little. She felt tired to the bone.