She sat down hard. “I’m sorry. No reason for a sensible woman to be so upset. But with the Gothic Spring Psychic Festival coming up, this is disaster!”

Rune waved an arm at Adam. “See? I’m not the only one.”

“We can’t go forward when there’s a madman taking aim at Gothic,” Angelica said.

Adam placed a chair next to her and gestured for Elle to seat herself. In a tone of utmost sensibility, he said, “While it is possible Gothic is the target of a madman, it’s also possible that the shooter is randomly targeting remote coastal villages knowing he has little chance of being apprehended, or even that he was shooting because he thought it would be funny to stir up the town.”

Elle noted he didn’t go into any possible reasons someone was targeting her or Rune or him.

In a low tone, Angelica asked, “Elle, you aren’t hurt more than...before?”

“I came out of today’s incident unscathed.” Elle patted Angelica’s trembling fingers. “Not to worry. As far as we know, there was one shot, everyone’s fine and law enforcement is on the way.”

A tear trickled down Angelica’s cheek, and she blotted it with her sleeve.

Elle sensed the group’s amazement. Where was Angelica’s tissue?

Mr. Kulshan whispered, “Maybe she’s got a heart after all.”

Mrs. Kulshan chided him. “Shush, dear.”

A group of six elderly women passed in front of the restaurant windows. One of them opened the door, and they all filed inside, accompanied by a wail of oncoming sirens.

“Hi, I’m Tammy White,” one said, then indicated her friends. “We’re the Shivering Sherlocks. We won the online auction to stay the week at Angelica Lindholm’s castle.”

Angelica leaped to her feet. “Excuse me, I’ve got to powder my nose,” and she rushed for the ladies’ room.

“Look, Rita, that was her!” One of the ladies nudged the another.

Rita bolted after Angelica.

“You can’t follow her!” Tammy said sternly.

Rita never stopped. “Try and stop me. I’ve got to go!”

As one, the stunned Gothic citizens looked again at the group of women.

“The Shivering Sherlocks?” Adam, at least, sounded calm.

“We solve mysteries,” a woman with smiling brown eyes said. “It’s our mystery week, and it will wrap up during your Gothic Spring Psychic Festival.”

“We’re supposed to lunch at the Live Oak before we go up to meet Angelica.” This woman had the unsmiling countenance of a math tutor. “And we most assuredly have a reservation.”

Slowly Ludwig went into motion. “I’ll set the table.”

A short bald red-faced man in a white shirt and flamboyant purple velvet waistcoat caught the door before it could close. “Hey, I’m looking for some guy named Rune. We’ve got the first truckful of equipment to set up for the—” he consulted a clipboard “—Gothic Spring Psychic Festival.”