“What? Serial killers don’t have cars?” Caroline asked her.

“I know, I know. But look on the bright side. Maybe this girl will turn up,” Sarah said. “Thing is, you can’t obsess, or you’d never leave your house. You just have to be smart and careful.”

Caroline shook her head. “I’m not worried about me. I’m the world’s biggest coward. I wouldn’t live in your spooky old house alone for all the tea in China. I’m worried about you. Nothing scares you, and I think some things should.”

“Not true, trust me. I have a healthy respect for being careful. I lock my doors, and I got friendly with my neighbors right off the bat,” Sarah protested.

Caroline sniffed. “Oh, right. To the left, the pregnant teenager whose husband is in the service. And to the right, the octogenarian. They’ll be a big help in a pinch.”

“Brenda Cole isn’t a teenager, she’s twenty-one. And Mr. Healey is not an octogenarian, he’s only in his seventies—and he has a dog.”

“A teacup Yorkie!” Caroline said.

“One vicious teacup Yorkie, I’ll have you know. He barks like a son of a bitch,” Sarah assured her, then laughed. “Which he is, of course. But seriously, I’m okay, honestly. I have a baseball bat, I will have an alarm system, and I can dial 911 faster than a speeding bullet.”

“Just be careful,” Caroline warned her.

“Yes, ma’am, I promise.”

“Okay. Hey, want to have dinner?”

“I can’t. I have to get home. Gary is at the house.”

“And he’s going to work all night?” Caroline asked.

“Until dark. He’s trying to finish tracing all the pipes today. I have a leak in one wall. So I’m going to head home and call up for pizza delivery.”

“Stop for a six-pack on the way home, too,” Caroline warned. “Make Gary happy. He’s the best. He’s nice, and he can do anything. Funny how all that works out, huh? Gary was such a shop geek in high school, and now he’s doing great. Pete Albright was a star, and I hear he’s working in a fast food restaurant up in Atlanta. Go figure.” She yawned. “Anyway, I’m meeting Will with Renee and Barry. You should grab Gary and go with us.” When Sarah started to reply, Caroline waved a hand dismissively. “Never mind. I know, the house comes first. Anyway, let’s go get changed.”

“Will, huh?” Renee Otten and Barry Travis were fellow docents who had struck up a romance, and Will Perkins was Sarah’s second cousin. Their mothers had been close, so he was almost like a brother to her, practically a fraternal twin, since they were both the same age, born a day apart, and shared the same coloring. And lately he and Caroline had become quite the item.

“He’ll be disappointed that you’re not coming. You haven’t been home that long,” Caroline said, turning on the reproach.

Sarah laughed. “I’ve been here six months. And Will and I see plenty of each other. In fact, he has threatened to move in once the place is done.” While she had attended Florida State—not all that far away in Tallahassee—for her bachelor’s degree, she had gone to Virginia for grad school, and then taken a job with an Arlington historical research and tour agency. But when Caroline’s parents had needed another docent, especially one with her knowledge of local history and lore, she had decided it was time to come back. Virginia was beautiful, and she would always love it, but nothing could compare to the city in which she had been born and raised.

“Fine, be that way. In the meantime, I’m changing into something cute and cool and sure to wow them over at Hunky Harry’s.”

“Honey, all you have to do is walk into Hunky Harry’s to wow everyone,” Sarah assured her. “Trust me, you’re ‘wow’ material even in what you’re wearing now.”

The lectures they gave covered topics ranging from the coming of the first Spaniards to British rule, American rule, the Confederacy, Henry Flagler and the railroad, Prohibition and beyond, and they had different outfits to wear for each. Today they were focused on the Seminole Wars and the Civil War. So today they weren’t dressed in silk and satin as would befit a pair of Southern belles.

Today they wore homespun cotton skirts and prim shirts that buttoned chastely to the neck. They were middle-class women of the era, those who churned butter and milked cows. And still, Caroline looked adorable. Sarah had yet to see a style from any era that Caroline didn’t wear well.

“Why, Miss McKinley, you do go on,” Caroline said with a mock simper. “And my, my, but if you aren’t just a plate of buttered grits yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, Missy-yourself, let’s just change and get out of here,” Sarah said as they left the lecture hall. Barry Travis, in breeches and a homespun cotton shirt, was also heading toward the door marked Cast Members Only. He was a tall, handsome man of thirty, with longish brown hair that worked well in historical context.

“I hope you two can get changed quickly, because I’m starving. Renee is ushering the last of the book buyers out the front door, and we are officially closed,” he said cheerfully.

“Sarah’s not coming,” Caroline informed him.

“Can’t,” Sarah said. “My house needs me.” She smiled to acknowledge that even she knew how silly that sounded.

“You know,” he said, studying her and shaking his head, “you could have bought a nice new condo.”

“There will be other nights,” she said.

“What if the world ends tomorrow?” Barry demanded.

“My house will be one day closer to done, and Gary won’t hate me,” Sarah said.

“I give up,” Barry said. “We’ll miss you as we dine on succulent burgers—oh, wait. You didn’t suddenly become a vegetarian, did you?” he asked her.

“She’s a fish-a-tarian, I believe,” Caroline.

“Pescatarian,” Barry said.

“Whatever,” Caroline agreed.

“Doesn’t matter. You can torture me with thoughts of food and I won’t care. Besides, I’m not sure anything at Hunky Harry’s is actually succulent. Anyway, have a great time, and drink a beer for me.”

“It’s a good thing Harry didn’t hear you say that. And it’s not true—the food there is good,” Barry protested.

“Yes, you’re right. The food is very good, especially the fish. But I can’t go. Not tonight,” Sarah said.

She hurried into the women’s locker room and quickly changed. Caroline had been right about one thing: she should stop and pick up a six-pack. Maybe a twelve-pack. Gary had a few employees working overtime right along with him.

She managed to escape without getting into further conversation, because when Caroline came in, she headed straight for the showers. Was she primping so hard for Will? Maybe. The two of them had always liked one another, but Sarah had never seen any signs that their relationship was anything beyond friendship. Then again, who knew? They said that friends made the best spouses. She certainly didn’t know.

She’d fallen in love once, and it had been a brief and poignant affair. Clay Jenner had been a soldier. They’d met in Newport News, and had quickly discovered they both loved Buddy Holly, Peggy Lee, lounge music and historic ships. They’d spent a few months laughing, talking, listening to music and exploring historic sites. Then he’d been deployed. He’d been wonderfully romantic, going down on one knee when the cherry blossoms had been exploding all over the park, and he’d offered her the diamond she now wore on a chain.

He hadn’t come home. That had been three years ago now, and although she would probably never get over the pain of losing him, she had accepted that he wasn’t coming back. He had gone into the military for the schooling and the benefits, but, as he had told her, he’d signed the paper swearing that he would obey his superior officers and defend his country. It would have been nice if he could have served out his time somewhere safe, like Germany, but it hadn’t happened that way.

He had been killed in a sniper attack. A bullet straight through the brain. He had probably never known what had hit him.