“How about some iced tea, Dad?” Laura held up a glass, and I nodded. She put it on the table and then took her seat. “I’m sorry Azalea wasn’t feeling well today. Do you think she’s really sick? Or just worn out from all she’s been through?”

“I think she was probably exhausted,” I said. “If she was truly ill I’m sure Kanesha would have called to let us know.”

“If she’s not back tomorrow I’m going to check on her,” Laura said.

“You might be able to get away with it,” Stewart said. “But you’re the only one. She really likes you. The rest of us she only tolerates.” He grinned.

Laura smirked. “Can I help it if Azalea is such a good judge of character?”

“Where is Dante?” It finally dawned on me the little dog was nowhere in evidence. Usually he was within a foot of Stewart at all times.

“He’s at the doggy beauty parlor, getting all fabulous,” Stewart said. “He was overdue for a cut and a shampoo. I’ll go pick him up after we finish lunch. Pardon the change of subject, but to get back to the murder for a moment. Laura told me about Azalea’s ordeal in the back stairs Tuesday night. Poor woman. I think that would give me nightmares.”

“Me, too,” Laura said. “Stewart and I have been discussing the case, Dad. He’s part of the family now, so he might as well be part of the investigative team, right?”

Stewart looked at her adoringly, and I grinned. He had become part of the family, though I certainly hadn’t expected it when he moved in the previous year. I didn’t think of him in a paternal way, however. He was more like a kid brother.

“Of course it’s okay, but I’m not sure about this investigative team. That makes us sound like a family of private eyes.” I wiped my mouth and put the napkin down beside my empty plate. “I know I can count on both of you not to go talking about this to anyone outside the family, though.” I gazed sternly at each of them in turn.

Neither of them paid any attention to that attempt at humor.

“Do you think she actually saw anything other than Vera falling?” Stewart picked up my plate and took it to the stove for a second helping. I didn’t protest.

“It’s hard to say. It must have been pretty dim in there. The one lightbulb gives off very little light, and it’s at the top of the stairs.” I tucked into my second portion of stroganoff.

“Have you thought about a reenactment?” Stewart asked. “I don’t know that Azalea would go for it, but you could try it to test whether a person at the top of the stairs would have been visible enough to identify.”

“That’s a terrific idea,” Laura said. “I’ll lend a hand, Dad. It will probably be creepy, but if it will help, I can handle it.”