My eyes prickled. “That is very sweet of you. Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it,” she said quickly. “You know, I’d always hoped I’d go before Grant, but it wasn’t meant to work out that way. Nothing seems to be working out the way it should. Not for any of us.” She looked over to the B&B. “We shouldn’t talk about the case, but I want you to know, I’m certain your aunt isn’t responsible for what happened to Constance. Nora’s a good person. She’s always been kind to me.”

I frowned. I could have sworn Nora had said she didn’t know anyone in Constance’s family. I waited, hoping she’d elaborate, but Mary clearly had other things on her mind.

“Do you think Constance is at peace?”

The question shocked me a little. I wasn’t sure how to answer it. I had never met a ghost who had been murdered before, and given the way Constance had been banging on our closet, I wouldn’t say she was completely at peace, but I didn’t want to upset Mary with speculation, so I thought it best to tell her only what I knew for sure. “In my experience, spirits are very peaceful on the other side. All the everyday concerns seem to lose importance. The only thing that matters is the love.”

Mary nodded and looked down again at her handkerchief. “That’s so nice to hear. I’d like to think my family could have that. My father. My siblings. It would be nice if we could find peace on the other side.”

“Mary, I apologize for what I am about to ask, but Nora is in trouble, and I know your family has been fractured for a long time. Do you think one of your brothers could have had something to do with Constance’s death?”

She flinched, then quickly shook her head. “I want to help you and your aunt. I really do,” she said in a quiet voice.

There was something in her eye that told me she meant it, but it was also plain something was holding her back.

“What you’re asking,” she began, picking at the cloth in her hand, “after all we’ve been through, my family needs to heal. I have to think of them first.”

“You do know something.” I squeezed her hand to still it. “Mary, please, you have to tell me.”

“Mom! What are you doing?”

Both Mary and I jumped at the voice of the dark-haired woman striding toward us. I didn’t recognize her, but this was obviously Liz Coleman. She had a hard, wiry look about her, but, admittedly, that impression was colored by the anger drawn across her face. Actually, I would say it was something more than anger. The woman coming toward us was furious.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. And this is where I find you? Talking to her?” Liz shot a hand in my direction. “What were you thinking?”

Mary stammered something I couldn’t hear as her daughter pulled her to her feet.