“I’m glad to hear that. With the big rush for Thanksgiving, the place was so picked over there was hardly anything left on the shelves come Friday. You know how much I pride myself on having what my customers need. Though I must say I’m surprised how many people wait until the last minute to do their Thanksgiving grocery shopping.” She shook her head. “Especially the Romeos. Fortunately I still had a few turkeys left when the last of ’em came by. I only sell the hybrid ones these days, Lucille. You know, the kind that get to run around home on the range for free so they taste extra good. They cost a pretty penny, but people love ’em.”

“I know. We bought one of your, er, hybrids. It was excellent.”

She beamed. “Come sit a spell and tell me all about it. How about a nice cup of coffee? And a jelly donut. I’ve got an apple cinnamon left. On the house. I know you love them.”

When Thelma resorted to bribery to get you to stick around and it involved donuts, it meant she planned to pump you for information. I already knew whatever she wanted to learn from me would involve Prescott Avery. Especially if the Romeos had been talking about me this morning.

“Thanks, but I really ought to be getting back to the vineyard. We have a lot to do just now with the holidays coming up.”

“Is that so?” She placed her hands on her hips and gave me a stern up and down you’re-not-fooling-me look. “That’s not what Quinn said when he was in here the other day, missy. He told me harvest was over and you were finished for the year, so you could finally put your feet up a bit.”

“Well, that’s sort of true, but—”

“Lucille, you know I was close to your sainted mother, which is why I’ve always had mammary feelings about you and your brother and sister. And right now I think you ought to hear what I’ve got to say. To be honest, ninety-nine percent of me wants to spare you from telling you about this, but the other ten percent is saying ‘that child ought to know.’”

I was still trying to figure out her mammary feelings. “Know what?” I asked.

“How about we talk over a cup of coffee?”

She had baited the hook well. “All right. Maybe just a quick cup.”

“I thought you might change your mind,” she said, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes. “Today’s Fancy is Java-Java-Doo. It’s a new one.”

I glanced over at the counter where Thelma had labeled her three pots PLAIN, FANCY, and DECAFFEINATED. The pot of Fancy was half-full.

“I’ll try the new Fancy. And I will take that apple cinnamon donut.” It seemed as if I might need the fortification of a sugar buzz.