A Rose From the Dead by Kate Collins Page B

popular person at that convention, so keep yourself open to all possibilities.”
    “Okay, but we don’t have any other possibilities yet.”
    “That’s our first order of business.”

C HAPTER N INE
    F or once Marco was wrong. Our first order of business was to get the refrigerated flower arrangements from the kitchen to booth twenty-nine before the convention officially opened for the day. Lottie and Grace, who had arrived earlier, had already made two trips, so Marco, being our pack mule, volunteered to get the rest.
    Grace had donned a traditional navy shirtdress and sensible navy pumps, the dark blue setting off her fair English complexion and short silver hair. She had a watch on a fob pinned to the bodice of her dress, and simple pearl studs in her ears. The surprise was her shiny orange belt, but Grace always did have a certain flair. She had brought a basket of scones as promised, along with jam and clotted cream, a supply of napkins, and a thermos of coffee. Being a proper Brit, she’d also brought a china pot for serving, and cups and saucers.
    Lottie’s outfit hadn’t changed appreciably from yesterday’s, except that her cotton knit shirt now depicted Rome, Italy. It was part of her world tour collection. She might not have the money to travel the globe, but she had the T-shirts.
    I stowed my purse under the table. Then, as we arranged the display, I explained in greater detail the events that had led to the discovery of Sybil’s body and my suspicions as to who had killed her.
    “The Urbans do seem to have the burden of proof on their shoulders,” Grace said after a moment’s consideration, “especially in light of what Walker told me.”
    “Walker?” I asked. “Do you mean Colonel Billingsworth?”
    “Yes, dear. He stopped by the booth to introduce himself, so I poured him a cup of coffee and offered him a scone, and we had a pleasant chat.”
    “You’re already on a first-name basis with him?”
    “Am I not allowed to make a new friend now and then?” Grace asked.
    There was a definite twinkle of mischief in her eye, making me think she had something up her sleeve. “A friend, huh?”
    “You should have seen Gracie in action,” Lottie said with a chuckle. “She was just a-flirtin’ away, and the poor guy was blushing so hard his scalp turned pink. I could see it through those twelve strands of hair he combs over to the opposite ear.”
    “I was not flirting,” Grace said, lifting her chin. “I was merely taking an interest in Walker’s stories. It’s amazing what one can learn when one asks the right questions.”
    “So basically you were snooping,” I teased.
    “Certainly not! I was gathering information. And frankly, Abby dear, not to sound cheeky, but your investigation could use a bit of a boost. After all, Delilah is our friend, too, and we’re quite concerned about her. As Benjamin Franklin once said, ‘You may delay, but time will not.’”
    Grace was a walking library of quotations. I could always count on her to have one at the ready.
    “I’m staying out of it,” Lottie said. “The last thing I want to do is screw things up for Delilah by poking my nose where it isn’t wanted.”
    “Okay, Grace.” I folded my arms across my chest and leaned against the table. “What information did you gather from Walker ?”
    “Among other things,” Grace said, straightening the brochures on the table, “he said that Sybil was quite infamous for having affairs with younger men.”
    I cast Marco a pointed glance as he returned with a box of flower arrangements. “I’m not surprised.”
    “There’s a first,” he quipped as Lottie and I helped him unload. “Alert the media.”
    “Good one,” Lottie said with a laugh, and gave him a high five.
    I laughed with her only to show my strength of character, because I certainly hadn’t found it as amusing as she had.
    “Seriously, don’t you think Sybil exuded a raw sexuality when she was near a younger man? Look how