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“I have some business here. Could you take my horse back, please?”
She reached up, handing him the reins. He took them, holding her fingers for a moment.
“I am your servant in all things.”
She watched him ride away before sighing and going inside. She retrieved her phone, a nervous flutter nudging her stomach. Charlotte had called the kids at James’s house yesterday at the appointed time. There’d been no answer.
Message #1: “Hi guys, it’s Mom … um, Charlotte. I just wanted to check in, see how you are. Maybe you’re all still asleep? It’s not raining at the moment, which is my big news. Anyway, I miss you all. I’ll call again later.”
She’d come back a few hours later to try again.
Message #2: “Hey, it’s me. I’m so disappointed to get voice mail. Beck and Lu, I really want to hear your voices. Hope that everything’s okay. I miss you tons. I’ll call back tomorrow.”
She e-mailed both of her kids as well, typing brief inquiries and I-love-yous from her phone. There were no messages from them of either the voice or the electronic variety. What if they were all hurt or hospitalized with the swine flu, or had fallen into comas after a random dirigible accident? Or what if James didn’t have carbon monoxide alarms in his house and in the night they’d been put under by the silent killer? Dead suddenly like the Grey Cloak nuns? What if there were four corpses snug in their beds?
The third call rang and rang and rang. She’d thought riding with Mr. Mallery made her anxious. It was nothing compared with the pit in her middle when she got voice mail again.
Message #3: “James Kinder, I will return tomorrow morning to check for messages, and I’d like to hear one from you along the lines of ‘We’re not dead, just happen to all be out whenever you call.’ And if I don’t hear from you, I’ll be calling the local police to come check your house for bodies. Please, please call.”
The next morning there was a message.
James: “Nope, not dead. We must’ve left the phones off the rechargers for too long. Just realized you called a few times. Everything’s fine.”
Left the phones off the rechargers? If Charlotte had the power of laser vision, red-hot beams would have shot out of her eyes and burned anything she looked at. As it was, she just glared harmlessly at the houseplant in Mrs. Wattlesbrook’s office. It didn’t even have the good grace to drop a leaf in shame.
Because of the time difference, it was too early to call back, so Charlotte had to comfort herself with the hope that her kids hadn’t been killed in the few hours since James had left the message.
On the way back to the house, Charlotte passed Colonel Andrews, his face glum.
His face did not respond well to glumness. She had to toss a spark on this bundle of sticks.
“Colonel Andrews! I’ve been meaning to tell you, I’m completely caught up in your mystery.”
He turned a generous smile on her. “Indeed! I had thought none of our fine guests had taken a shine to it.”
“I can’t believe Mary Francis killed all her sister nuns. But if not, then who did? And how? I wish you’d read more of it tonight.”
“Your wish is granted, Mrs. Cordial. I am your fairy godmother tonight.”
Andrews ran off, his steps full of spring, his eyes sparkling anew.
She turned and discovered Eddie alone on a bench, contemplating her.
“You made his day.”
“Did I? I hope so. But I wasn’t being flippant. His mystery’s been a kind of lifeline for me here. Something to think about besides … other stuff.”
He patted the seat beside him and she joined him, sighing as she sat.
“How are your children doing, Charlotte?”
“I was just thinking about them.”
“I thought so. You’re worried?”
“They’re … not very good correspondents. And I can’t turn my mind off. I keep imagining—”
“All the various ways they might have been killed?”
