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the dishwasher when my dad’s voice bellows, “Anyone home?”

Finally, he’s back. Obviously not arrested. Yet. “I’m in the kitchen, Dad.”

The door swings open, and my father strolls in. “What a day.” He drops into the nook. “Got anything to eat around here?”

“Yep.” Withholding a sigh, I head back to the fridge and pull out all the leftovers I just packed away. Typically, I’d reheat everything in the oven or the stovetop, but after the day I’ve had, I’m using the darned microwave. Hopefully, my chef’s apron won’t be revoked.

When the machine beeps, I take out my dad’s plate and sit across from him. Sliding it over with a glass of wine, I ask, “So? What was in the little white envelope?”

“Weird story, actually.” My dad digs into his pasta like a starving wolf.

Of course, it’s a weird story. With my father, there are no others. “I’m on pins and needles here.”

My dad nods as he chews. Then he takes another bite. I might explode if he doesn’t get on with it and tell me what the heck is going on.

Finally, Dad sets down his fork and then takes a long drink from his wineglass. After he’s wiped his mouth on his napkin, he says, “Do you remember when I was having those headaches a few years back? And terrible chest pains?”

I nod. “Meg said you had anxiety. So?”

“Well, she gave me some pills to take when my heart would start racing. I took one or two doses, and like magic, all my symptoms…” Dad makes his fork disappear up his sleeve. “Your sister is a magician in her own right, you know.”

“Clearly.” I want to laugh at his theatrics but restrain myself. He’s still a suspect in a murder case. “So the remaining pills were in that little white envelope.”

“Yep. I completely forgot they were there. Don’t carry extra cash as much anymore in this world of plastic we live in, so they must’ve settled in the bottom never to be seen again.”

More like my dad never has any cash anymore, so he’d have no reason to look in the box, but I’ll bite my tongue. “Could whatever Meg gave you have made Tina have the symptoms she had before she died?” I’m not going to beat around the bush anymore. We need to get my dad off the suspect list.

Dad lifts his hands. “I have no idea.”

I go to the bottom of the stairs and call out, “Meg? Can you come to the kitchen, please?” She’d gotten a medical emergency call earlier and went upstairs to take it.

“In a sec,” Meg replies.

I go back to the nook and sit down again. “Can I ask you a question about your lunch with Tina?”

“Only if I can have some of those amazing cookies I can’t seem to find.”

Sighing, I stand and go to the pantry. I hide the mint chocolate cookies because they’re Brittany’s favorites, and he eats them all. I guess he can have them all now. It makes me sad.

“Help yourself to the rest.” I slide the half-full package across the table. “Do you remember who else was at the diner when you guys had lunch?” I’ve been thinking more and more about Aunt Carol. I still don’t think she could have hurt anyone, but it’d be best to know for sure.

My dad’s eyes light up at the prospect of the rest of the box. “Whom are we looking for? It might be easier for me to answer with the subject in mind.”

“I don’t want to taint your memory. It’s someone related to me, though.”

My dad’s forehead crunches as he munches. “Male or female?”

“Dad, how many relatives do I have? Come on.”

“Right. Excellent point.” He grabs another cookie as he contemplates. “Let’s see. Nope. No one related to you. Just some kids, a few families, and wait. Frank was there. I like to forget you’re related to that bozo.”

“Frank was there, huh? Aunt Carol wasn’t with him?” This is interesting, seeing how Frank was dating Tina, who was eating lunch with my father. Maybe Frank was the jealous one.

Dad shakes his head. “Nope. Just Frank. He sat at the counter, glaring like he always does. Why?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m just glad I’m not posting bail for you tonight.”

My sister joins us and grabs a cookie. “Hi, Dad. Glad you’re back. What’s up?”

I say, “Seems the pills you gave Dad for his anxiety were in the puzzle box. Could those have killed Tina given the way she died?”

A slow grin builds on Meg’s face. “No more than this cookie could have.”

My dad frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“They were a placebo, Dad. Sugar pills.” She taps on his forehead. “Your anxiety was all up here. And if I recall, it never came back after I gave you a credit card.” Meg steals another cookie from the pack.

Chuckling, my dad says, “I should probably be upset by that, but seeing how I’m in the middle of a sugar high at the moment, I won’t be.”

“The placebo is the best news I’ve heard all day.” My phone dings on the counter, so I stand to retrieve it. The screen shows it’s Nat. I open the text and am surprised at who she identified as Pattie’s secret lover. It’s Joe Kingsley. Emily the flower-swapping judge’s husband. This can’t be a coincidence.

Can it?

Chapter 14

I need to tell Madge that it’s Emily’s husband, Joe Kingsley, whom Pattie had been seeing, so I take my phone with me to the front porch and dial. When Madge answers, I fill her in on Brittany and the affair.

Madge grunts. “What a hypocrite. Joe Kingsley is the first to preach to all the shop owners how important it is to follow the rules and be good citizens. What about being a good husband?”

No kidding. “But do you think it could have anything to do with Tina’s death? Emily wouldn’t have any reason to hurt Tina. Now, Pattie, that would have been a different story.”

“Right.” Madge is quiet

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