“We talked it over with Robson and he agreed this would be the best place to go for our anniversary trip,” Dad said, pushing his glasses up. “Especially when he heard we’d be surprising you.”

“Really?”

Mom nodded. “Robson said you could use a nice surprise or two.”

“He has no idea,” I murmured.

“Yes, he does,” Dad said, eyeing me with concern.

Robson Benedict was the leader of the Fellowship for Spiritual Enlightenment and Higher Artistic Consciousness, the commune where my parents had raised me and my five siblings. Guru Bob, as we called him, was the highly evolved being my parents called teacher, avatar and friend.

Years ago, along with several hundred followers, my folks had followed Guru Bob to the hills of Sonoma County, where they’d bought up several thousand acres of lush fields before the wine country craze drove prices into the stratosphere. A few years ago, our business-savvy commune had incorporated, and now our formerly humble hillside home was a thriving, sophisticated wine-country destination. We’d named our small town Dharma.

“So that’s when we contacted our favorite travel maven.” Mom reached over and squeezed Robin’s arm. “She was able to trade in our Paris reservations for a Scottish Highlands adventure quest.”

“A quest. How intriguing.” Over my mother’s shoulder, I saw Robin grinning like a loon.

“Robin is our spirit guide,” Mom said proudly. “So we’re off to Kilmartin tomorrow. There’s a harmonic energy circle outside of town that might finally prove the existence of the druidic triad.”

“Finally.” I smiled. Seriously, what else could I do?

“Fingers crossed,” she said with excitement. “Then we’ll go to Inverlochy to find the faerie hills. And there’s a yew tree in Fortingall that’s supposed to vibrate if your Vata dosha isn’t aligned. I thought your father could use a tune-up.”

I glanced at Dad. He shrugged, always happy to go along with Mom. Just like the rest of us.

“Lucky Dad,” I said.

“You bet,” he said.

“Is anyone else from Dharma joining you on the tour?” I asked them.

“Nope,” Robin said. “It was always just me and your folks. I told you I was bringing a whole tour group in order to throw you off the scent. Did it work? Are you really surprised?”

“I’m in utter shock,” I said.

“Good,” she said, grinning with satisfaction.

“And I wish I could go with you,” I said dolefully, wondering what Detective Inspector MacLeod would think if I up and ran off to the Highlands.

“Oh, we knew you’d be busy all week,” Mom said, patting my cheek. “We just hope we’ll get a chance to see our Pumpkin in action for a day or so! You don’t mind, do you?”

Pumpkin. That would be me. The nickname was the result of my unfortunate obsession with Thanksgiving dessert at an early age.

Honestly, just looking at Mom and Dad made me feel better. Let’s face it: So far, my time in Scotland hadn’t exactly been a vacation. So to see friendly faces? People who actually knew me and loved me and oh, yes, trusted me not to be a cold-blooded murderer? Priceless.

“Of course I don’t mind.” I gave her a fierce hug. “I’m thrilled you’re here.”

Dad tapped me on the shoulder. “How about some of that for your old man?”

I moved from Mom into Dad’s arms while Mom greeted Derek.

“Hello, Rebecca,” Derek said warmly.

Mom giggled as she gave him a big hug. Nobody in the world but Derek called my mother Rebecca, and it seemed to delight her. Mom and Derek had experienced a bonding moment last month when they’d found me in the clutches of a killer.

Dad held me at arm’s length, studied my face and asked, “How’s it going, kiddo?”

I smiled brightly. “Super.”

“Whoa, that doesn’t sound good,” Mom said immediately, her forehead wrinkling as her eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“What?” I frowned. “Nothing.”

She slapped her hand onto my forehead. “Do you have a fever?” She squinted at me. “Your third eye looks cloudy. Are you constipated?”

“Help,” I whimpered.

She tapped the top of my head. “How’s your crown chakra? Whistle for me, will you?”

I tried to whistle as Dad turned to Derek. “If there’s a disturbance in the force, Becky’ll find it.”

“Good to know,” Derek said.

“I’m fine, Mom.” I took hold of her hand, removed it from my head and squeezed it gently.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she muttered, turning to rummage through her purse. “I’ll need my stick.”

Her stick? I broke away from her to give Robin a friendly hug.

“Jimmy, did I pack my healing rod?” Mom asked as she piled the contents of her bag on a nearby chair.

“It was on the list,” Dad said.

“Why the hell didn’t you warn me?” I whispered in Robin’s ear. God knows I loved my parents, but a person really did need some preparation time before one of their visits.

“And miss this touching scene?” she said. “Not on your life.”

“I’ll kill you later.”

“You can try,” she said. “Cute boots, by the way.”

“Thanks. Oh, God, my parents are insane,” I moaned softly against her shoulder.

She laughed and hugged me tighter. “I love them.” Robin had practically grown up at my house and had known my family forever. My mom was as close to her as her own mother. Probably closer. She was yin to my yang, madcap Lucy to my down-to-earth Ethel. Since we’d grown up together in the commune, our shared memories were unique, to say the least. There was a bond between us that transcended space and time. If

I were in trouble anywhere in the world, Robin would know it.

She knew it now. “What’s going on?” she asked quietly.

“I’ll fill you in later.”

“Okay,” she said. “And I want to know where you got that jacket. It’s way très chic.”

“You think? Thanks.” I knew she would shriek when I told her I got it at Ross.

“ Brooklyn?” a timid voice piped up.

Oops. Helen. I’d forgotten all about her. I rushed over to the couch as she struggled to sit up. She still looked a little woozy.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“Just completely embarrassed,” she said lightly as she tried to fluff her hair. “I’ll get over it. Is this your family?”

I made the introductions, then explained, “Helen had a little fainting spell a while ago.”

“Oh, you poor thing.” Mom sat down next to Helen and patted her back. “Can we get you some water?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” Helen said weakly. “It was just such a shock.”

“Of course it was,” Mom said sympathetically, although she had no idea what had happened. Or did she? Maybe Romlar X had told her.

“A friend was killed last night,” I explained, realizing they would all find out sooner or later anyway.

Mom glared right into my third eye. “I knew it.”

Trying to avoid her perceptive gaze, I continued. “Kyle was a good friend of mine and Helen’s. There was a memorial service a few minutes ago. It was difficult. Helen fainted.”

“Kyle?” Robin said. “Weren’t the two of you-”

I cut her off with a warning glance. “We found his body last night.”

Helen let out a tiny cry and Mom pulled her into her arms. “Of course you’re in pain,” she said, rocking her gently. “You lost a good friend.”

Tears sprang to my eyes and I was abruptly glad Mom was here. If anyone could deal with Helen’s grief, it was my mother. She was the queen of empathy. I wouldn’t be surprised to return home in a week and find that Helen had moved in. That was how good Mom was at this shoulder-to-cry-on thing.

“I’ll never believe it,” Helen whispered.

“What’s that, sweetie?” Mom asked Helen. But she was looking at me for the answer. Everyone turned to me.

I gave Robin another look of warning, then said, “Kyle and Helen were in love.”

“Oh,” Mom cried, wrapping Helen in another hug. “How awful for you.”

“But it turns out that Kyle was already married,” I continued. “His wife showed up at the memorial service.”