For some reason, this sent Tabitha into another gale of laughter. When she finally subsided, she said, “Do you realize how much he likes you? No, let those eyebrows drop down into their normal position. He likes and respects you and he appreciates the help you’ve provided.”

My eyebrows went up again.

“Okay,” she admitted. “Maybe ‘appreciates’ was a little strong, but he definitely thinks you bring a fresh point of view to the cases you’re worked on.”

That, I could more easily believe. “Has he mentioned the latest murder?”

“Brown Bernier.” She nodded. “So sad. He sounds like a very nice man. Hal didn’t say much about it. He won’t, not during an active investigation. But he did say you were the one to find Mr. Bernier.”

Sabrina, who had already dropped off my coffee, put a plate of breakfast in front of me and looked at Tabitha. “What can I get for you, hon?”

“I’ll have what she’s having,” Tabitha said. “Thanks, sweetie.”

I’d heard the often-acerbic Sabrina called many things, but “sweetie” was not one of them. I pushed away the thought and said, “It’s been a week since Brown was killed. And unless things have changed dramatically since forty-five minutes ago, which was the last time I texted Ash and asked, they don’t have any suspects.”

“Not even the spouse?”

“Well.” I tried to picture Lindy as a killer and couldn’t do it. Still, you never knew. “I’m sure they’ll check.”

Tabitha gave me a long look. “Do you know what I did before I retired?”

“Until today, I didn’t even know your name.” I picked up my spoon and dug in.

“Men.” She made a rude noise in the back of her throat. “For years and years, I worked for a nonprofit organization. I did deep research of state legislative policies. Property taxation was my specialty, but I also worked with planning and zoning issues.”

I closed my mouth, which had been opening all on its own. “For some reason I thought you were a retired teacher.”

“Don’t let the white curls fool you.” Tabitha fluffed her hair. “Underneath this mass of stuff lies a brain that likes to be used. The first couple of years of retirement were fine. I rested and read and did fun craft projects. But I’ve learned that without more mental stimulation I’m going to turn into a harping shrew.”

While I found that hard to believe, I did have an inkling what she meant. And I also had an idea. “My fiancé sometimes helps me with research when I’m poking around into things that may or may not be none of my business. But he’s a school principal and busy with beginning-of-the-year stuff. What do you think about helping me? I don’t want to cause any trouble between you and your husband,” I said quickly. “But maybe this—”