The moment the gavel descended, there was a scraping back of chairs and a headlong rush toward the refreshment table. Hannah was ready. She had tea and coffee, both “leaded” and “unleaded,” and her best silver platters heaped high with cookies. As she poured steaming beverages into bone-china cups—blue flowers for the decaf and pink flowers for regular—Hannah thought about the phone call she’d received from Bill before she’d left the shop. The homeless man, whose name was “Blaze,” was no longer a suspect. Reverend Warren Strandberg had picked him up just after Claire had seen him and taken him to the Bible Church soup kitchen for breakfast. At the time of Ron’s death, Blaze had been scarfing down pancakes with scrambled eggs in front of the reverend, several church volunteers, and some of his homeless peers.

“These are simply marvelous, Hannah.” Mrs. Diana Greer-son, wife of the local bank president and social climber par excellence, held a cup of herbal tea in one hand and nibbled on a cookie in the other, her pinkie extended.

“I’m so glad you like them, Diana.” Hannah motioned toward the platter. “Do have another.”

“Oh, I couldn’t. I eat like a bird, you know.”

The thought of a vulture tearing greedily at a carcass flashed before Hannah’s eyes. The last time she’d catered an event that Diana had attended, she’d caught her dropping at least a half-dozen Date Delights in her purse.

While Hannah poured and offered coffee or tea to the women in Lake Eden, she kept a sharp eye out for her mother. Before she’d even reached kindergarten age, she’d discovered that Delores had a barometer face. If her eyes snapped, a storm of criticism was imminent. If her lips turned up, their encounter would be sunny with compliments. If there was a crease between her perfectly plucked eyebrows, a rain of judgmental questions was about to fall. Even a bland expression meant something. It warned of sudden change, and Hannah knew that she had to be prepared to either shiver under her mother’s icy censure or bask in the warmth of her approval.

Hannah filled a cup with regular coffee for Sally Percy, the wife of Andrea’s boss, and glanced at the end of the line again. What she saw made her relax for the first time that day. Her mother was standing in line with Carrie Rhodes, and both women smiled widely when they caught her eye. Hannah knew immediately that Norman had announced their plans to go to the Woodleys’ party together. It was the old case of “I know, you know, and I know you know.”

As the line snaked slowly past her, and Hannah concentrated on exchanging pleasantries with everyone she served, she noticed that Delores and Carrie seemed to be having a slight difference of opinion. They weren’t arguing. It was much too friendly for that. But Hannah heard faint strains of “But I’d like to, really. This is so good for Norman” from Carrie, and “No, she’d never accept it from you” from Delores. Then Carrie’s voice wafted down to Hannah, “I’ll order the corsage. What type of flowers does she like?” And Delores answered, “She adores sunflowers, but those wouldn’t do at all. How about orchids?”