“I don’t know,” Darlene said. “No one does. Land’s just sitting out there, doin’ nothing. No cows, no sheep. The clover hasn’t been turned over in a year. It’s a mess.” Darlene wiped her mouth. “Boy, when the witch found out the price Manfred paid Pappy Willard, she started working on poor Luke to get Pappy D to sell and hasn’t let up since. Day in, day out—”

“Now how do you know that?” Annette said.

“Things get around,” Darlene said. “Things get around.”

“Darl, for being such a Christian, you sure don’t turn the other cheek,” Annette said.

“I’m a fine Christian,” Darlene said. “I just know the Devil when I see him…or her.”

Annette said, “You could at least call her Linda instead of the witch all the time. You know, it’s gotten so that the kids call her the witch to her face.”

“Well, that’s what she is,” Darlene said. “A refill, Mister Detective?”

Decker nodded.

“How ’bout you, miss?” she asked Marge.

Miss? “Thank you,” Marge said.

“A witch is a witch,” Darlene said. “And if it was you, you’d think she was a witch also.”

“I’m not calling Linda an angel,” Annette said. “She was wrong to do what she did.”

“Darn right she was wrong.” Darlene angrily poured tea from a ribbed glass pitcher until the brown liquid sloshed over the rims of the tumblers. “She did what she did ’cause she’s a witch. Can’t get away from what you are.”

“I just don’t think it’s a good Christian example for the kids to hear you carry on,” Annette said, mopping up the spill with her napkin.

“And I mebbe don’t care about what you think,” Darlene said.

“Well, you might care, if only for the sake of the kids.”

“The kids are just fine, thank you.”

Darlene sat down stiffly and clasped her hands tightly. Annette bit her thumbnail. A moment later, Annette reached out for Darlene’s hand.

“We bicker a lot,” Annette said. “But that don’t mean we don’t love each other.”

Decker smiled.

“More cake?” Darlene offered. Her voice was shaky.

Decker said, “No thank you.”

Marge said, “It sure was delicious. Would you part with the recipe?”

It was Decker’s turn to cough. Marge’s idea of baking was microwaving a frozen coffee cake.

Marge added, “If it’s not a family secret. My granny has a recipe for Christmas fruitcake that she wouldn’t part with even if Jesus came down from heaven and asked her for it in person.”

Darlene smiled tightly. “Well, you don’t have to be Jesus to get the recipe here.”

“Matter of fact,” Decker said, “might be a good idea to give Detective Dunn some of your other favorite recipes. Her cooking could use it.”

“This is true,” Marge said.

“One of the reasons she can’t find a man.”