“Okay, great,” said Lucy. She hung up the receiver and called for Sara to come and put her jacket on.

“Come on, honeybun. We’ve got to get some groceries.”

Lucy enjoyed her little outings with Sara. She had just turned four, and she still loved going to the grocery store, the bank, or the story hour at the library with her mother. Before she knew it, Lucy realized, she’d have another touchy preteen like Toby to cope with.

Sara and Lucy took their time strolling through the aisles at the IGA. They debated the relative merits of Cheerios and Lucky Charms and found a great deal on fabric softener, and Lucy decided that a package of cupcakes wouldn’t hurt just this once. When it was time to check out, Lucy saw her friend, Miss Tilley, standing in the checkout line behind Barb Cahoon, who was the mother of three basketball-playing sons and had the grocery order to prove it.

“Miss Tilley, is that heavy cream in your basket? You shouldn’t be buying that.”

“Nonsense, I’ve had oatmeal with cream for breakfast every morning since I was a little girl. Hasn’t hurt me a bit. Of course, I’m only seventy-three years old.”

“You don’t look a day over eighty,” teased Lucy.

“Don’t get smart with me, young lady,” retorted the old woman. “Now tell me . . . about this Sam Miller business. Who do you think killed him?”

“I haven’t got the foggiest idea,” answered Lucy, tucking a stray clump of hair behind Sara’s ear.

“I seem to remember that you love to read mysteries. I used to save the good ones for you at the library.” Miss Tilley had been the town librarian until the board of trustees finally gathered the courage to retire her forcibly on her eightieth birthday.

“I don’t have time for mysteries these days. In books or in real life.” Lucy shrugged. “Everybody’s saying Marcia killed him.”

Miss Tilley raised an eyebrow. “Why do folks think that?”

“I guess because it’s the usual thing. Husbands and wives usually kill each other.”

“I wouldn’t know,” observed Miss Tilley. “I’ve never been married. I would imagine he was killed by someone who had something to gain by killing him.”

“Well, Marcia might have gained a lot. First, she got out of an unhappy marriage. Did you know they had separate bedrooms?” Lucy nodded for emphasis. “And, he probably left her a lot of money. Money, and the freedom to spend it. Sounds like a pretty good motive to me.”

“Not necessarily. She received a settlement when she married, but that’s all she got. Sam’s money is all tied up in the business.”

“That’s interesting,” said Lucy; remembering that Sam Miller’s mother and Miss Tilley were close friends. “Who. really runs the business? Is it a family board of directors?”