“Coffee,” Sister mouthed over Fairchild’s shoulder which she was patting.

I stuck my tongue out at her, but I headed for the kitchen. I was in need of a caffeine fix, too.

“What time was it when we saw Millicent last night, Mouse?” Sister called.

“About eight thirty? Nine?” I got the coffee from the refrigerator where Mary Alice keeps it and filled the top of the Mr. Coffee. “I had already talked to Fred, but he called early because he figured we’d be going out to supper a little later since we’d just gotten here.” I leaned across the counter that separates the kitchen from the dining and living area. The Gulf, I realized, looked blue this morning. Unusual. “Look, y’all. The water’s blue this morning. Reckon that means anything like ‘red sky at morning’?”

They both looked out at the Gulf, but neither said anything.

“I guess not,” I said.

“We had come straight from the Redneck when we saw you, Fairchild,” Mary Alice explained.

Fairchild shook his head. “She’s never done anything like this before. I think I ought to call the sheriff, don’t you?”

“She said she was having a drink with someone,” I said. “Maybe they got to partying and she decided it wasn’t a good idea to drive home.”

“Millicent isn’t much of a partier. You know that.”

“She looked in a party mood last night.” I could have bitten my tongue the minute I said it. Sister glared at me. “I mean she looked pretty. And happy.”

“Younger.” Fairchild put his head in his hands.

“Now, just a minute.” Sister got up in a swirl of pink, opened the end-table drawer and got out a pencil and notepad. “I’m sure she’s all right, Fairchild. Why don’t we make a list, and Patricia Anne and I will help you make some calls. Millicent could even have gone up to De Funiak Springs to check on her family.”

“Not without telling me.”

“Well, we’ll make a list anyway. Fetch us some coffee, Mouse, when it’s ready.”

Fetch? I was to fetch Mrs. Mary Alice Tate Sullivan Nachman Crane some coffee?

“And would you like cream and sugar?” I asked sweetly.

Fairchild looked up at me. “Cream, please, Patricia Anne.” The worried expression on his face made me feel guilty; I got the tray out for the coffee.

“Let’s start with friends,” Mary Alice said. “Is there some friend she might have decided to spend the night with?”

“Her best friend is Emily Peacock. You know Emily. Lives over in Emerald Towers. I got her answering machine.”

Mary Alice nodded. “Anybody else?”

“I called Eddie and Laura Stamps next door. They haven’t heard from her, but Laura’s calling around.”