The kitchen was large and I could see a wide deck accessible through a set of French doors. The cabinets were dark cherry, the counters dark green marble, with a six-burner stove-top built into a central island. Both the baby and Vera's son, whom she introduced as Peter, were already bathed and dressed for bed. Near the kitchen sink, a woman in a pale blue uniform was piping a star of yellow filling into each of a dozen hard-boiled egg halves.

"This is Mavis," Vera said. "She and Dirk are helping, to save the wear and tear on me. I've got a babysitter on her way."

I murmured greetings and Mavis smiled in response, hardly pausing as she squeezed the filling from a pastry bag. Parsley had been tucked around the platter. On the counter nearby there were two baking sheets of canapés ready for the oven and two other serving platters, one arranged with fresh cut vegetables and the other an assortment of imported cheeses interspersed with grapes. So much for Cheez Whiz – which I personally adored, being a person of low tastes.

This party had clearly been in the works for weeks. I now suspected the designated blind date had come down with the flu and I'd been elected to take her place... a B-list substitute.

Dirk, in dress pants and a short white jacket, was working near the walk-in pantry where he'd set up a temporary bar with a variety of glasses, an ice bucket, and an impressive row of wine and liquor bottles.

"How many are you expecting?"

"Twenty-five or so. This is strictly last minute so a lot of people couldn't make it."

"I'll bet."

"I'm still off the booze because of Twinkletoes here."

The baby, Meg, was strapped in an infant seat in the middle of the kitchen table, looking around with a vague expression of satisfaction. Peter, aged twenty-one months, had been secured in a high chair. His tray was littered with Cheerios and green peas that he captured and ate when he wasn't squishing them instead.

Vera said, "That's not his dinner. It's just to keep him occupied until the babysitter shows. Speaking of which, Dirk can fix you a drink while I take Peter upstairs." She removed the tray from the high chair and set it aside, then lifted the boy and set him on one hip. "I'll be back shortly. If Meg cries, it's probably because she wants to be picked up."

Vera disappeared down the hall with Peter, heading for the stairs.

Dirk said, "What can I get for you?"

"Chardonnay's fine. I'd appreciate that."

I watched while he removed a bottle of Chardonnay from an ice tub behind him. He poured me a glass and added a cocktail napkin as he passed the wine across the makeshift bar.

"Thanks."