Agitation and loneliness usually sent Miss Sink into the kitchen, where she had no one to cook for these days except that sweet young police officer renting one of her many properties. She had often thought about inviting him in for dinner, but she didn’t have time to cook a big meal.

Making shortbread cookies was one thing. But pot roast and fried chicken were another. Her various boards and associations consumed her, really. It was a wonder she could ever get around to fixing that boy anything. She dialed his pager and left her number, assuming he was probably busy at a crime scene.

The page landed in Brazil’s beeper as he was knocking on Weed’s front door. It hadn’t taken much investigation to check the city directory and see that the Gardeners, not the Joneses, lived in the small house behind Henrico Doctors’ Hospital where Brazil had dropped off Weed last night.

When Roop tipped off the police that a gang called the Pikes had claimed responsibility for the cemetery vandalism, Brazil knew Weed quite possibly was into something deep and dangerous.

Brazil knocked again and no one answered. It was dark out with no moon. There were no sounds coming from inside the house and no car in the driveway.

“Anybody home?” Brazil loudly tapped the door with his Mag-Lite.

West covered the back door, and after several minutes of silence she came around to the front.

“He knows we’re looking for him,” West said, slipping her nine-millimeter Sig back into the shoulder holster.

“Maybe,” Brazil said. “But we can’t assume he’s figured out we know who his brother was.”

They were walking back to the unmarked car. Brazil shone the flashlight on his pager and read the number. He got out his phone and dialed. Miss Sink answered immediately.

“Andy?”

“Hi,” Brazil sweetly said as he thought of the florist’s card on the table in West’s hallway.

“We’re closing the cemetery to the public,” she told him right off.

West took her time unlocking her door. Brazil was certain she wanted to know who he was talking to.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Brazil said.

“The statue’s going to have to go into the shop, which is no easy thing when you think how much it weighs. So until we can get it out of the cemetery, the association has decided to keep everybody out except funeral parties, of course.”

“What time?” Brazil said in a hushed voice.

“What?” Miss Sink said. “I can’t hear you.”

“Right now?”

“Oh.” Miss Sink sounded confused. “You mean is it closed right this minute?”

“Yes.”

“It is. Do you like pot roast?”

“Don’t tease me,” Brazil whispered as West jerked open her door.

“I’m not wheezing,” Miss Sink said. “But this time of year, the pollens are awful, especially if you’re in the garden very much. Well, I guess pot roast isn’t what young people eat these days. Not fried chicken either.”

“Oh yes I do,” Brazil said as he went around to his door and got in.