“Perhaps next time,” Mother said. “Unless perhaps your friend . . . ”

She looked at Sandie, who glanced over at me.

“This is Sandie, a friend of Karen’s,” I said. “And I’m sure if she could, she’d love to take care of Timmy while I go with you to the garden party. But she has to leave pretty soon.”

Sandie looked puzzled, and then caught on.

“Yes, darn it all,” Sandie said. “Maybe some other time.”

Mother sighed as if deeply disappointed in both of us and floated out.

“Isn’t it a little late in the day for garden parties?” I asked Rose Noire.

“They’re illuminating Mrs. Wexford’s garden with hundreds and hundreds of those little fairy lights,” Rose Noire said. “It’s going to be so magical—are you sure you can’t come?”

“Duty calls,” I said. Rose Noire sighed, and followed Mother.

“Was I supposed to say that?” Sandie asked, after I shut the door. “I mean, I thought you did need a baby sitter.”

“Yes, but not to go to a garden party,” I said. “I’m going to snoop and see if I can find anything incriminating about Nadine.”

“Good,” Sandie said. “I suppose it’s wicked of me, but I do hope you find something. In fact—wait a sec.”

She rummaged in her purse and came out with a college key card.

“You can get into the building and our department with this. You’re on your own when it comes to getting into Nadine’s office, but at least I can get you that far.”

“That’s great,” I said. “Thanks!”

“Now you just go on,” she said. “And don’t worry about me. I brought my book. I’ll just sit here and keep an ear open for Timmy.”

She sat down in the living room. I peered out the front windows, to make sure Mother and Rose Noire weren’t still out there. No, I saw Rose Noire’s car chugging off.

I also noticed that Seth Early was already on guard, lurking behind the hedge at a low spot in the road. Still watching for the swarthy man? Another mystery I was still no closer to solving—who was the swarthy man, and was he watching our house, and if so, why? And could I figure out something to call him other than the swarthy man, which sounded more melodramatic every time I thought it?

Of course, I could see why Mr. Early hadn’t had much luck accosting the so-called swarthy man. Unfortunately, it still hadn’t occurred to him that while his hiding place was concealed from our side of the street, anyone coming out from town could clearly spot him from the ridge. If anyone had been watching our house, he had probably already seen Mr. Early and chosen his hiding place accordingly. I wasn’t going to make the same mistake.

“I’ll see you later,” I told Sandie. “I’m going to check something in the yard and then I’ll take off.”

“I’ll be here,” she said, holding up the thick paperback she was reading.