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“Who else is coming?” Eleanor asked politely.
Harriet’s face turned positively radiant at the mention. “There’s a newcomer in town that I can’t wait for y’all to meet.” She set down the ladle, sat in her chair, and dropped her napkin in her lap. Doyle noted how she pursed her lips like it took visible effort to withhold more information.
Sadie squeezed his hand beneath the table. “Who’s this newcomer?”
Harriet leaned over the table excitedly. “It’s a woman! She’s single, so I was thinking Otto could use some taming. That’s why I made room for so many guests this evening.”
Eleanor perked up. “What’s her name? Where’s her family?”
Amos slammed a fist down on the table, shaking the China. “I will not have you women causing any trouble. You leave Miss Caroline alone, you hear me?”
“Caroline?” Sadie asked, digging her nails into Doyle’s thigh.
Amos’s beady eyes narrowed as he assessed her reaction. “You know her, Miss Sadie? I believe you two may have met before being she’s from the same place as Mr. Doyle here.”
Doyle’s brain worked overtime even as he remained silent, squeezing Sadie’s hand reassuringly. How did the mayor know she was from the same place? And did he mean the time machine or Tucson? Or Washington? He’d been part of so many lies since coming to Devil’s Creek, he didn’t know what way was up anymore.
“I’m going to need a word with Mr. Doyle in private,” Amos said as everyone else began clinking forks against plates.
“Amos Stillwater,” Harriet exclaimed, “this is going to remain a polite dinner. You will behave civilly toward each other, or word will get out.”
Impressed, Doyle felt a new respect for Harriet. She’d threatened Amos with his reputation, right where it hurt the most.
“What makes you think I wouldn’t be civil?” Amos said with as fake a smile as Doyle had ever seen. “I simply want his side of the story. I didn’t want to repeat what Miss Caroline said about him in delicate company.”
Damn him, he just made Harriet’s century with that juicy tidbit. Doyle wasn’t prepared for this. He’d expected a gunfight maybe, or some fisticuffs, but not a gossip war.
“No wonder the poor thing hasn’t shown up.” Harriet glared at Doyle.
Judge, jury, and executioner all in one, Harriet had him strung up on the gallows and didn’t even know what Amos was going to say.
“Listen, whatever it was she said—” Doyle started.
“She’s a liar and criminal,” Sadie said through gritted teeth, and everyone turned to her.
“Seems to me,” Amos cleared his throat, “that you’ve said a lot of crazy things lately, Sadie. Maybe this Wally here has your pretty, little brain twisted and confused.”
Harriet patted Sadie’s hand, and Wally squeezed her other one again to prevent her from stabbing the woman with a fork.
“It isn’t my brain that’s twisted,” Sadie said, wound so tight Doyle could almost hear her thrum like a guitar string.
“Now everyone just calm yourselves,” Eleanor patted her chest. “I, for one, would love to meet this mystery woman that everyone seems to know about.”
Amos squirmed under her glare, and Doyle took comfort in the idea the man would be hearing from her later. He may not be married, but he knew enough to not keep things from his wife, especially about strange women he may have met.
As if on cue, a knock sounded at the door. Everyone stared at each other for a moment before Harriet stood, straightened her hair, and swept from the room to answer it.
Sadie leaned in, dropping her napkin so they could whisper beneath the table for a moment.
“What do we do?” she asked.
“At least she came to us, so we don’t have to find her. We’ll wait till after dinner and escort her back to the TCR,” Doyle said. What he didn’t comment on was the likelihood that this dinner was going to get much, much worse before they had a chance to escort Ms. Song anywhere.
