“Is there someplace you can lie down for a while?” Gloria asked.

Krystal burst into tears. In between sobs, she stammered, “N-no. I-I-I’ve been sleeping in my car.”

Sleeping in her car? Dear Lord, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor thing. No money, no working vehicle, no place to stay. My heart went out to her. Before my head had a chance to engage, I blurted, “I’ve got lots of room. You can stay at my place until you get back on your feet.”

Krystal’s eyes widened. “Really? You mean it?”

Pam shot a warning dart in my direction. Are you out of your frickin’ mind? I didn’t need telepathic powers to guess what she was thinking. Had the situation been reversed, I’d have posed the same question myself.

“Sure-it’ll be fun having a houseguest.”

And it would. I had plenty of room and enjoyed company now and then. My kids were always too busy to pay their poor, lonely, widowed mother a visit. I was lucky to get an occasional phone call and a card on my birthday. Perhaps I’m being a bit facetious. Truth to tell, I confess I’m neither poor nor lonely. Thanks to planning and hard work, Jim had left me comfortably well-off. And I was rarely lonely. I’d made lots of friends here in Serenity Cove Estates, and there were tons of activities to occupy my time. Golf, Tai Chi, ceramics, book club, line dancing, and last but not least, bunco. Life was good; I had no complaints.

“Well then, it’s settled,” Janine said with a smile that seemed a bit forced. I could tell she wasn’t happy with my decision, but what choice did I have? I wouldn’t sleep a wink knowing this poor young woman was homeless, broke, and going hungry.

I felt a tug on my sleeve. Glancing down, I found Polly’s scrawny fingers clutching my sweater. “Psst,” she hissed.

“What’s up?”

“Gotta tell you something. Meet me in the ladies’ room.” She scooted off before I had a chance to ask why.

I’m a sucker for cloak-and-dagger stuff. Seeing Krystal was in the capable hands of Gloria, Pam, and Janine, I mumbled an excuse and scooted after her.

“Lock the door,” Polly instructed the moment I slipped inside the restroom.

“Curiouser and curiouser!” cried Alice. The words played in my head as I locked the door. “Why the need for secrecy?” I asked.

Polly regarded me, her eyes solemn behind shiny trifocals. “You know how I hate to gossip,” she began.

I simply couldn’t help myself. I laughed out loud.

Polly folded her arms over her modest bosom and glared at me. “What’s so funny?”

“Hate to gossip?” I asked once my chuckles had subsided. “Out with it, girlfriend. Who are you, and what have you done with the real Polly?”

My veiled attempt at humor zipped right over Polly’s head. She cast an anxious glance at the door as if expecting someone to crash through any second. “I saw something yesterday.”

All mirth vanished in the blink of an eye. My pulse quickened a tad, the way it does sometimes when I sense bad news. “Polly, for crying out loud, just tell me what’s going on.”

She inched closer. “I happened to be in town having my hair done when I spotted Lance in that flashy orange car of his parked on a side street. Thought I’d surprise him, say hello. Maybe give him an update on how things are coming along in the costume department. You know, just trying to be friendly, his being new in town.”

“And…?”

“Well,” Polly said, moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue, “I was about to tap on the driver’s-side window when I realized he wasn’t alone. He was with someone-a woman.”

I frowned at hearing this. “A woman? You mean a woman other than Claudia?”

“Try to keep up with me, Kate. You’re falling behind.”

Mea culpa! Mea culpa! Shame on me for being a little slow on the uptake. “Sorry, Polly. I’ll try harder.”

“No need to get flip with your elders, young lady. I’m trying to tell you Lance had his arm around a dark-haired woman-and I think that woman was Krystal. Want my opinion, they were acting pretty chummy. Pretty chummy, indeed.”

What had I done? How old did I have to be in order to think first and speak later? Would I ever learn? Instead, I’d gone and invited a perfect stranger into my home-or, in this case, maybe a not-so-perfect stranger. But it was too late now for second thoughts. With the Babes’ help, we’d transferred Krystal’s belongings from her Honda Civic to my Buick. At the moment, Krystal was napping in my guest room.

After a stressful afternoon, I was in need of comfort food-and comfort food for me often took the form of tuna noodle casserole. I opened the pantry door and stood there-thinking. Could Polly have been mistaken about the woman she’d seen with Lance? What possible connection did Krystal have with Lance Ledeaux? Was Krystal the same woman I’d seen Lance with behind the Piggly Wiggly? I absently reached for the cream of mushroom soup, and realized belatedly I’d grabbed a jar of salsa.

I kept trying to make sense of things. The woman I’d seen with Lance had been driving an expensive-looking automobile, not a Civic on its last cylinder. Granted, I didn’t get more than a glimpse, but I had the impression the driver was older than Krystal. Puzzling.

And I loved nothing better than a good puzzle.

I’d been relieved at Polly’s offer to move in with Claudia temporarily. I agreed Claudia shouldn’t be alone right now. We didn’t need her going off the deep end. Surely when all the facts came to light, she’d be absolved of any malice in Lance’s death. Facts would prove the shooting was just a malfunction of some sort; an accident in the worst degree.

Feeling somewhat better after my pep talk, I took out soup, a package of egg noodles, and my last can of tuna. I made a mental note to add tuna to my grocery list. Can’t think of tuna casserole and not think of Bill. This happens to be one of his favorite dishes. When it comes to food, he’s certainly an easy man to please. We seem to like many of the same things: chocolate-chip cookies, lemon bars, tuna casserole, and pizza. We even take our coffee the same way-black. Aren’t we a pair? At least, I used to think we were. Wish I knew what happened while he was in Michigan. Since his return, the temperature between us could stand some reheating. He might’ve gotten cold feet, but mine were still warm and toasty. Suddenly I had an idea. I reached for the phone before I could change my mind.

The phone rang and rang. I was about to hang up when Bill answered, sounding slightly out of breath.

“Bill? Hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”

“Kate!” he exclaimed. “I almost didn’t hear the phone over the whine of the table saw.”

Bill has converted part of his garage into a woodworking shop that would rival those on HGTV. He owns nearly every power tool on the planet and knows how to use them. No small wonder he was elected president of the Woodchucks, our local woodworking club here in Serenity, two years running

“Were you working on the set for the play?” I asked.

“Naw, after last night, that’s at a standstill.” Bill paused, then cleared his throat. “How’re you holding up? It’s not every day we see a man shot and killed right before our eyes.”

I felt touched by his concern. “I’m fine. What about you? You were there, too.”

“Have to admit I’m still a little shaken by what happened. Keep asking myself if I could’ve accidentally left a bullet in the chamber.”

Now I was the one who paused while digesting this tidbit. “You think that’s possible?” I asked when I rediscovered my voice.

“I’ve gone over this a thousand times. I’ve handled guns since I was a kid. The first lesson my dad taught me was to always make sure the chamber was empty before handing it over to anyone else. I pride myself on being safety conscious. Don’t know how I could have missed a live round.”