I looked around Millicent’s living room. This morning she had walked into this room and allayed Fairchild’s fear; it would never happen again. Suddenly, the fact that she had not come home last night loomed as an important piece of information that Fairchild would have to tell the lieutenant.

“Lieutenant,” I said, “you don’t need us for anything, do you?”

“I’ll need to talk to you later.”

“We’re going next door, then.” I looked at Mary Alice who had reached over and was moving a red four to a black five on the solitaire game. “Mary Alice?”

“I think I’ll stay a while, see if Fairchild’s going to be all right.”

“Okay. If you need us just holler.”

“All of a sudden, I couldn’t breathe in there,” Haley said as I closed the door behind us. She shuddered. “I knew exactly how Fairchild felt when he opened the door and saw us standing there with the policeman. We didn’t have to say a word. He knew, just like I did with Tom.”

I nodded.

“And then when he found out she was murdered!” Haley began to cry.

“Come on, honey,” I said. “Let’s go see if Frances has taken all the aspirin and Valium.”

“I’m so glad you didn’t see her, Mama. Who would have killed Millicent like that?”

“God knows, honey.” I led my weeping daughter into Sister’s condo where my best friend sat on the sofa with an afghan over her head. “Frances?” I said. “What are you doing?”

“Saying my mantra and freezing.”

“Why don’t you turn the air conditioner up?”

“You mean down?”

“Whatever. So it’s not so cold.” I’ve never figured out if that’s up or down.

“I did turn it down.” Frances’s voice was muffled. “I think I’m in shock.”

“No you’re not,” Haley said, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hands.

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not. I know what shock’s like.”

Lord! “I’m going to make some hot tea,” I said. I went into the kitchen and put the water on to boil. Then I reached up in the cabinet, took down a bottle of bourbon, and put it on the tray with the tea cups.

“Did you take any Valium?” I asked Frances as I brought the tea to the living room.

She lowered the afghan. “No.”

“Then pour a slug of this into your tea. And you, too,” I said to Haley.

“It’ll taste awful,” she said.

But Frances was already lacing her tea with the bourbon. “I had an aunt used to do this.”

“So did I,” I said. “A toddy for the body.”

“And another aunt drank paregoric.” Frances sipped the tea and made a face.

“One of my great-aunts did,” I said.

“Which one?” Haley asked.