“At the Round Table”—which was perfectly true, though somewhat misleading—“and we’re . . . uh . . .” I half laughed. “Okay, I’ll come clean if you promise not to tell Mom and Dad.”

Aunt Frances eyed me. “Then I can guess what you’re doing with your new aunt. Looking into those murders. Brown and that woman they found in the state forest.”

“Emily Acosta,” I murmured.

“Right. But who’s this other aunt?”

Otto smiled at his wife. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re showing signs of jealousy.”

“Of course I’m jealous,” Aunt Frances said. “For thirty-five years I’ve had no competition in the aunt category and now I have to share Minnie’s nieceness with a stranger?” She blinked and rubbed her eyes, as if there were tears forming.

She was kidding, of course, but all the same I felt a twinge of guilt. “We were just pretending,” I said. “I was acting the concerned niece and Tabitha was being the slightly addled elderly aunt.”

“Tabitha?” My aunt’s ears practically swiveled toward me. “Are we talking about Tabitha Inwood?”

“Well, yeah. You know her?”

She smiled and her attention went back to her food. “Any and all objections to sharing you have been withdrawn. Tabitha is a gem. Carry on.”

Otto looked at her. “Is there something going on here that I don’t know about?”

“Not really,” Aunt Frances said. “Tabitha sat in on a woodcraft lecture I gave a few weeks ago at the senior center. We chatted afterward and as soon as we can set a date, we’re going to have her and Hal over to dinner.”

I dearly hoped I’d learn that date ahead of time so I could sneak into the house and listen in. Because if, in a social situation, Detective Hal Inwood turned into a real human being with actual conversational skills, I wanted to witness the occasion.

“Always good to meet new people.” Otto handed around a bowl of fresh rolls. “So, Minnie. Tell us about your investigation. Maybe talking about it will open up a new line of thinking.”

Excellent. I hadn’t wanted to plunge into all of that without an invitation. “Well, since you asked . . .”

And so I told them everything, from my first visit with Lindy, to how I’d met Tabitha and Hal at the diner, to how we’d teamed up, to our belief that the two deaths were connected through bicycling, to our suspect list of Bob, Ariella, Cody, Warren, and the yellow bicycle guy.

Otto lifted his hand, then let it drop to the table.

“What?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Give me a minute.”

Aunt Frances and I looked at each other as he left the room and went into the kitchen. “Do you know what’s going on?” I whispered.