experimentally. "It's okay," he said. "I can still move everything.”
Jane let out the breath she'd been holding. "All we need him to do is break an arm or leg," she said.
“We'd just have to have Larkspur do something with tulips and baby's breath on his crutches," Shelley said with a laugh.
Jane gave her friend the look she usually reserved for the mother of children who were misbehaving in the grocery store. "Get back to your theory. We're already about six 'supposes' away from any sort of reality. Might as well run the whole course."
“Hmmm. To tell the truth, I'm not sure where I was going with it. Except to say that it's possible Mrs. Crossthwait saw or found something valuable and put herself in danger by mentioning it."
“You're ruining my theory that somebody who has nothing to do with this wedding discovered that she was a Nazi collaborator and followed her here to bump her off as an act of revenge," Jane said.
Shelley smiled. "Sorry about that. But why would anybody follow her here to kill her? They wouldn't know the layout of the place, especially in the dark."
“Maybe it wasn't dark all night. We had lights on in the main room when the power failed. Maybe it came back on during the night."
“But unless they'd been lurking under the furniture all day, how would an outsider even know what room she was in?" Shelley asked.
Jane thought about this for a long moment and couldn't dredge up an argument. "Okay, okay. So if the police are right that somebody pushed her down the steps, and if it's somebody who was staying overnight, who do you suggest as chief suspect?"
“The aunts?" Shelley answered halfheartedly.
“Come on, Shelley! What threat could Mrs. Crossthwait have possibly been to either of them?"
“Well, there's the treasure story. From what we've heard, they're the ones who thought it up and the only ones, besides Larkspur, who seem to believe it. What if she found something valuable and mentioned it to them? Maybe something she didn't even recognize as being of value."
“And they wanted it for themselves, not to share with Jack, who had never believed the story to begin with…?" Jane said.
“Or maybe it was just one of them," Shelley said. "One who wanted to keep it all to herself.”
Jane thought about it for a while. "Maybe. But the aunts clearly snubbed her after dinner. A mere hireling daring to be chummy with them. They're really dreadful snobs."
“But last night they were the senior members of the Thatcher family present at the lodge. If she had discovered something and was being honest about it, wouldn't they be the ones she'd tell?"
“I guess so," Jane said. Then she thought for a long moment. "What if she actually knew them? Before now, I mean. Or knew of them?"
“What do you mean?"
“They're all of an age. And nobody waits until they're seventy to become a dressmaker," Jane said. "She said she'd sewn a wedding dress for Marguerite way in the past. What if her association with them caused her to know some secret about one or the other?”
Shelley's eyes lit up. "I like it," she said. "Maybe she made maternity clothes fifty years ago for the virginal-and-damned-proud-of-it Aunt Iva. They wouldn't remember someone as lowly as a seamstress, but she'd remember doing a secret job for a high society type."
“And the aunts knew perfectly well who she was and what she knew and despite their bickering, they'd stick together against an enemy.”
The cat jumped off Jane's lap and walked away, as if disapproving of the conversation. Jane laughed. "So we know what the cat thinks of that theory."
“Pretty bad, huh? A bit of a stretch?" Shelley asked.
“Just a bit. Shows a good imagination though. You get an A for effort."
“Okay, forget the aunts for the moment. It's easy to imagine them destroying someone with a few well-chosen words, but not with raw physical effort. If it has to be someone here, what about Uncle Joe?"
“Motive? And let's try to stay away from secret
Jane let out the breath she'd been holding. "All we need him to do is break an arm or leg," she said.
“We'd just have to have Larkspur do something with tulips and baby's breath on his crutches," Shelley said with a laugh.
Jane gave her friend the look she usually reserved for the mother of children who were misbehaving in the grocery store. "Get back to your theory. We're already about six 'supposes' away from any sort of reality. Might as well run the whole course."
“Hmmm. To tell the truth, I'm not sure where I was going with it. Except to say that it's possible Mrs. Crossthwait saw or found something valuable and put herself in danger by mentioning it."
“You're ruining my theory that somebody who has nothing to do with this wedding discovered that she was a Nazi collaborator and followed her here to bump her off as an act of revenge," Jane said.
Shelley smiled. "Sorry about that. But why would anybody follow her here to kill her? They wouldn't know the layout of the place, especially in the dark."
“Maybe it wasn't dark all night. We had lights on in the main room when the power failed. Maybe it came back on during the night."
“But unless they'd been lurking under the furniture all day, how would an outsider even know what room she was in?" Shelley asked.
Jane thought about this for a long moment and couldn't dredge up an argument. "Okay, okay. So if the police are right that somebody pushed her down the steps, and if it's somebody who was staying overnight, who do you suggest as chief suspect?"
“The aunts?" Shelley answered halfheartedly.
“Come on, Shelley! What threat could Mrs. Crossthwait have possibly been to either of them?"
“Well, there's the treasure story. From what we've heard, they're the ones who thought it up and the only ones, besides Larkspur, who seem to believe it. What if she found something valuable and mentioned it to them? Maybe something she didn't even recognize as being of value."
“And they wanted it for themselves, not to share with Jack, who had never believed the story to begin with…?" Jane said.
“Or maybe it was just one of them," Shelley said. "One who wanted to keep it all to herself.”
Jane thought about it for a while. "Maybe. But the aunts clearly snubbed her after dinner. A mere hireling daring to be chummy with them. They're really dreadful snobs."
“But last night they were the senior members of the Thatcher family present at the lodge. If she had discovered something and was being honest about it, wouldn't they be the ones she'd tell?"
“I guess so," Jane said. Then she thought for a long moment. "What if she actually knew them? Before now, I mean. Or knew of them?"
“What do you mean?"
“They're all of an age. And nobody waits until they're seventy to become a dressmaker," Jane said. "She said she'd sewn a wedding dress for Marguerite way in the past. What if her association with them caused her to know some secret about one or the other?”
Shelley's eyes lit up. "I like it," she said. "Maybe she made maternity clothes fifty years ago for the virginal-and-damned-proud-of-it Aunt Iva. They wouldn't remember someone as lowly as a seamstress, but she'd remember doing a secret job for a high society type."
“And the aunts knew perfectly well who she was and what she knew and despite their bickering, they'd stick together against an enemy.”
The cat jumped off Jane's lap and walked away, as if disapproving of the conversation. Jane laughed. "So we know what the cat thinks of that theory."
“Pretty bad, huh? A bit of a stretch?" Shelley asked.
“Just a bit. Shows a good imagination though. You get an A for effort."
“Okay, forget the aunts for the moment. It's easy to imagine them destroying someone with a few well-chosen words, but not with raw physical effort. If it has to be someone here, what about Uncle Joe?"
“Motive? And let's try to stay away from secret
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