My heart sank. Quinn had overheard Scotty and Alex arguing about Prescott’s possible plan to sell the Trib. Quinn’s comment to me had been that neither of them should have been around sharp knives. And now Bobby was going to talk to him and ask what he knew.

“You’re in luck,” I said, as the front door opened. “He’s here right now.”

I KNEW BOBBY WANTED to talk to Quinn in private, so I left them and joined Frankie, who was in the middle of getting the Christmas decorations out of the storage room. I found her sorting through a box of ornaments.

“I think I’m going to borrow a few of these to use as decorations on the wreaths,” she said, ringing a tiny silver bell. “Okay by you?”

“Of course it is.”

She closed her hand around the bell to silence it. “Prescott Avery was murdered,” she said.

“How do you know?”

She pulled out her phone, tapped a couple of times, and held it up for me to see. “Because of this.”

It was a news aggregator app. There were links to at least half a dozen stories by different news organizations: ABC, Fox, MSNBC, CNN, The New York Times, People, and the Washington Tribune. All of them with roughly the same headline, except for one New York tabloid that read Suburban Shocker in Wealthy Virginia Horse and Hunt Country: Multibillionaire Prescott Avery Killed in Cold Blood at Party in His Own Home.

“Oh, God. What an awful headline.”

“Is that why Bobby is here?”

I nodded.

“Why would he think you know anything?” she asked.

“Because in addition to Quinn and me finding Prescott, I was the last person to see him alive. Except for the killer, of course.”

“I didn’t know that.” She looked worried. “Who do you think did it?”

“I don’t know. Bobby seems to be zeroing in on the family.”

“I heard there were about a hundred people at that party yesterday. It could have been anyone.”

“Not necessarily.”

“What do you mean?”

“It had to be someone with a motive.”

“There were plenty of guests who had excellent motives,” she said. “Tribbies who didn’t want Prescott selling the newspaper out from under them, for example.”

“Good Lord, where did you hear that?”

“Where else?” She raised an eyebrow. “The General Store. The Romeos were there this morning having their regular kaffeeklatsch.”