Kate walked nervously down the hall to the guest bathroom, her robe tightly drawn around her. It was terrifying to think that the killer had been able to slip into her bathroom undetected in the space of a few hours. Granted, the house had been full of people during the reception, but that didn’t make it better. The police and the security team had both done full checks of the house when they’d shown up, but she couldn’t shake the idea that they’d somehow missed something, that whoever had left the mice was in her house right now, hiding somewhere, lurking behind a closed door, listening.

She’d spent the morning in bed, and now she only had a few minutes to get dressed for the reading of her mother’s will, which was scheduled for ten o’clock that morning at Gordon’s office. They’d considered canceling after the threats but decided it was better to get it over with. When she walked into the kitchen in the simple gray sheath she’d chosen, Simon was reading the paper. Her father sat at the table playing Old Maid with Annabelle. He hadn’t gone back to his house since that terrible night, staying instead at the waterfront condo in downtown Baltimore that he and Lily had bought last year as a weekend retreat. Annabelle looked up from her cards and jumped down from her chair. “Mommy!”

Kate gathered her daughter into her arms, inhaling the sweet scent of her strawberry shampoo. “Good morning, sunshine. Who’s winning?”

“Me!” she shouted and ran back to the table.

Kate followed her daughter to the table to lean down and give her father a kiss on the cheek, noticing again the gray cast to his skin and the dullness in his eyes.

“Good morning,” Simon said, closing the paper and setting it on the table in front of him and rising. “How are you feeling?”

“Not great.”

“Coffee?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He poured a cup of French roast and handed it to her, but as she took it, her fingers trembled so badly that it crashed to the floor. Kate looked at the mess at her feet and burst into tears. At the sight of her mother’s agitation, Annabelle began to cry too.

“Oh, sweetheart. It’s all right. Mommy’s all right,” Kate said, hugging Annabelle until she calmed down.

“Kate, you need to eat something,” Simon said, stooping to wipe up the coffee and carefully pick up the pieces of china.

She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. “I can’t.”

He stood, holding the broken shards in his hand, and gave Harrison a look, but neither man argued with her.

“Will you ask Hilda if she’s ready? And remind her to bring some things to keep Annabelle occupied while we’re at Gordon’s.”