Dulcie turned at the shuffling sound to see a handsome woman leaning on her cane and understood at once why her voice had sounded odd. She’d had a stroke at some point. One side of her face hung lower than the other.

“You’ve said quite enough, dear,” the woman said to Nina Mae more kindly. “Perhaps you’d like to go down to the nurses’ station for some juice.”

“Juice?” Nina Mae bristled. “I’d rather have a beer.” But she rose and left anyway.

“She won’t remember what she was going for by the time she reaches the nurses’ station. I’m Pearl Cavanaugh.” She said it as if the name should mean something to them.

Clearly someone at the nursing home had alerted Pearl about Nina Mae’s company. She must have raced right in to make sure Nina Mae didn’t spill the beans.

“You’re one of those Corbett men,” Pearl said, nodding to herself. “I heard you were all handsome, but clearly that was an understatement. What are you doing bothering Nina Mae? Didn’t anyone tell you she has Alzheimer’s? You can’t believe anything she says.”

“Can’t we?” Dulcie asked, wondering how long Pearl had stood outside the room listening.

Pearl turned to scrutinize her. “You must be the woman who bought the old Beaumont place.”

Dulcie had heard about Pearl and Titus Cavanaugh from Jolene. They were like royalty in Old Town Whitehorse, running everything from the school to the Whitehorse Sewing Circle. If anyone knew the truth about Laura Beaumont’s murder, it was this woman.

“Actually, I inherited the Beaumont place.” Dulcie couldn’t miss the surprise in the woman’s eyes and then the realization of who she was. “I’m Dulcie Hughes, but then I suspect you know that and a whole lot more.”

Chapter 12

Midge Atkinson opened the door and looked surprised to see that Jolene wasn’t alone.

“I brought your wicker basket back,” Jolene said when Midge made no move to invite her and Dulcie inside. “I brought a friend, too.”

“I see that.” Midge was a large-framed, thick woman, shapeless in a purple sweatsuit, her face set in a permanent scowl. “Well, come in then.” She reached for the basket, stepping back with obvious irritation.

Dulcie and Jolene followed her into the kitchen. After her run-in with Pearl Cavanaugh the day before, Dulcie didn’t expect Midge Atkinson to be any more forthcoming that Pearl had been.

“I like your borders,” Dulcie said. “Did you paint them?”

“Yes,” Midge said as she put the wicker basket on the top shelf and turned toward them. “But you aren’t here to return my basket or compliment my artwork. What do you want?”

Clearly word had spread about the Beaumont girls. “We’re here to ask you about Laura Beaumont,” Dulcie said.