I groaned.

Elizabeth had married right out of high school when she learned she was pregnant. Having moved from foster home to foster home herself as a child, she wanted to keep her baby and give him a good home. Her escape from her oppressive husband came in the form of attending college and getting her masters degree in library science. After her son finished college and married, she divorced, and wanted the freedom she never had. She threw all caution to the wind, and went from one relationship to another. Before John, she had dated three men simultaneously.

Feeling the need to change the subject, I said, "Remember in our book club last month when we discussed Catering to Death, where the mayor was poisoned at dinner because he was an abusive husband?"

"Yes," they both said, looking quizzically at me, wondering where was I going with this.

"Les looked like he was in great physical shape-"

"Now I really wish I had known him," Elizabeth interjected.

"I assume you mean in the biblical sense."

Ignoring Deirdre's comment, I said, "It probably wasn't a heart attack. Someone must have thought they had a good reason to kill Les. It had to have been the food."

"But wouldn't others at the table have been poisoned, then?" Deirdre asked.

"I doubt there was a cupcake with Les' name on it," Elizabeth said.

"But it was only poison to Les."

The sounds of Christmas came over the public address system in the streets downtown. Shoppers with hopeful expressions, meandered in and out of the stores carrying their packages in the near freezing air. Christmas still held an aura of magic with me. Deirdre and I stopped to gaze at the window displays at Goodman's.

Elizabeth glanced at the windows. "Well, I'll leave it to you girls to stare at Santa Claus putting candy in stockings, in this God-forsaken cold. I'm going to start my shopping. I need to find something for John." Elizabeth hustled, not all that gracefully, in her heels into the department store.

This year's theme was "The World Celebrates." Deirdre and I went from window to window viewing the mechanical movements of a family gathered around a table, lighting their menorah for Chanukah, a girl dressed as St. Lucia wearing a white dress and a crown of candles, and several others. I loved all the details.

Snowflakes started to fall by the time we entered Goodman's. Deirdre and I headed to the men's department where she wanted to look for a sweater for Mike.

"Kay, which sweater do you like best?"

I looked through the pile. "Oh...this green one is nice."

"So do I...relaxing, peaceful, soothing, tranquil."

"Deirdre, can't you just like the green sweater because you think it will look good on Mike? Does everything always have to be feng shui compliant? What if Mike looked great in a color that wasn't worthy?"

Deirdre gave me a blank look of incomprehension.

"Aw, forget it. Green's nice."

Deirdre craned her neck around. "I need some stocking stuffers."

"What about a book for Mike?"

"Or music. But which jazz artist? Who does Phil listen to?"

"Miles Davis, Wynton Marsalis, Blue Mitchell, Thelonius Monk...."

As I started rattling off musicians, I noticed Nancy Reinhardt, the director at Hawthorne Hills, walking in our direction. Her eyes met mine. She did an immediate 180 right where a huge wreath hung from the high ceiling of the store.

"Deirdre, did you notice Nancy Reinhardt-"

"Coming towards us and then turn away? Yes. Maybe she suddenly remembered something she had forgotten."

"Or she wanted to avoid me," I said.

Deirdre shrugged. "Maybe she's just bad at making small-talk."

I nodded. I could believe that. She had all the personality of a jellyfish. And the sting.

Four kids raced past, in the direction of the toy department to where Santa was waiting. They brushed again us. Their mothers trailed behind and when they came up to us said, "Sorry, ladies. These kids...it's hard to contain their excitement." I smiled, thinking of my boys when they were young.

We went downstairs to the music department. Deirdre looked through the racks of CDs and ended up buying a boxed set of Dave Brubeck.

Elizabeth walked towards us, juggling several bags and packages. It was hard to imagine her making it to the car without dropping some. "Ready to go?" she said.

"Elizabeth, I found some great gifts for Mike. Did you find something for John?"

"Well sort of. I bought this fabulous dress for my party tomorrow night."

After arriving home, I made a quick cup of tea, and started preparing for the mystery party. There'd be eight of us; I had invited only our closest friends. Having decided on the jazz theme so Phil and his two friends Mike, Deirdre's husband and Dinesh, who owned Gupta's New Delhi, would be interested, I sent out invitations two weeks ago. They read, "Come Dressed to Kill." I figured this would be enough time for everyone to figure out their costumes and parts. Our dining room would be transformed into a private room at the Apollo Theatre, a jazz club in Harlem in the 1930s.

I covered the buffet table with crisp white linens, added two crystal candelabras, and eight vintage, rounded champagne glasses. Then I got busy in the kitchen making various canapes. Stuffed mushrooms, spanakopita, liver pate, cream cheese wontons, garlic shrimp, and such. Everyone could savor the cuisine, as clues were revealed throughout the evening. Probably Elizabeth would show up wearing long gloves for the finger foods.

For dessert I'd serve Death by Chocolate Cake. As I glazed some pecans over the stove, I thought back to Les. Both Marissa and Nancy denied the presence of nuts in the food at the tea.

I was in the dining room getting some serving platters out of the buffet when I heard the garage door open. I glanced at my watch. Four o'clock.

A minute later, Phil called out, "Hi, hon. I'm home."

I walked into the kitchen. "How was your last day of school?"

"Great. I'm all yours for the next couple of weeks."

"Oh really. You won't be practising for New Year's Eve?"

"Well, I'm all yours tonight." Phil kissed me, then walked into the study to put away his bags.

All mine with three other couples coming to the party tonight...I didn't bother responding. Phil came back into the kitchen. "How about a glass of wine?"

"There's some Malbec downstairs. Get us a glass and you can talk to me while I cook."

Phil came up from downstairs, poured us each a glass of wine. "Looking forward to this party, Kay. You came up with a great theme." He helped himself to some pate and crackers. "Can I do anything to help? What time is everyone coming?"

"Six o'clock."

"Maybe I'll go take a quick shower. Want to join me?"

I looked around the kitchen. "Phil, there's still plenty to do. Our guests are coming in less than an hour and a half."

"Kay, relax. Clear your mind. Everything is under control." He rubbed my shoulders, then gave me another kiss. After a hard day of shopping and cooking, I closed my eyes, savoring his touch. I leaned to kiss him again, but he had already taken his hands off my shoulders to pick up his wine glass. "You know where I am if you change your mind." He ran upstairs, almost spilling his wine, I noticed.

I finished getting everything ready, glanced around one last time to see if I had forgotten anything. Then I went up to change into a dress I had ordered online from a vintage clothing company. It was a black crepe and silk faille cocktail dress with a wide waist sash. The hem fell below my knees.

Phil stood in front of the mirror, freshly showered and dressed, trying to slick back his short, graying hair. He had on a dark diagonal stripe double-breasted suit jacket and trousers. "You look handsome," I said. Phil was of average height. He had developed a little paunch in the past couple of years, but I thought his face irresistible. It wasn't movie star handsome, but it had a jaunty appeal.

"This murder mystery's going to be great...trying to figure out who killed...whomever."

I put a large rhinestone buckle on the sash of my dress. While Phil fastened my rhinestone choker, I thought back to just two months ago when I was solving a real life murder mystery. He wasn't interested in the slightest to those murders, but more interested in tonight's fake one. He had just said so twice. I finished putting on my earrings when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get the door," Phil said, his voice full of excitement.

"Wait. I'll go down too. I need to light the candles and turn the oven on."

I walked into the living room from the kitchen and saw Elizabeth, my every-dress-is-two-sizes-too-small-friend standing by the Christmas tree wearing a long, black backless dress. She had on a thick, glimmering rhinestone bracelet and a large rhinestone broach just below her clevage. John, by her side, had slick backed his curls over the top of his head, resulting in a waved look. Phil had their coats over his arms.

"Mrs. Havers-Browne, your tree is dazzling," Elizabeth said to me, smiling. "A bit sparse in branches, but just the same, dazzling."

Elizabeth, Elizabeth. "Thank you, Priscilla," I said to her, staring at her new beauty mark next to her mouth.

She turned her back to John and said quietly, "Kay, it's freezing in here. I'll have to put my coat back on."

The door bell rang. "Don't you have any dresses with backs to them," I said, and smiled.

I left to answer the door, and on the way turned the heat up. Deirdre was at the door holding a covered tray, and Mike had a bottle of champagne in each hand. He had on a gold zoot suit and wore a fedora with a large peacock feather on it. His dreadlocks peeked out from under his hat.

"Thank you, Deirdre...I mean Eva," I said as she handed me the tray.

"Bacon wrapped water chestnuts, darling," she said.

"Yummy."

Deirdre walked into the kitchen with me. She watched as I put the spanakopita and wontons into the oven. I turned to take her faux fur coat. She wore an ankle length plum bias-cut cocktail dress and long black gloves. "Guess I better take these gloves off. Won't go real well with finger foods."

The last to arrive were Dinesh wearing a black dinner jacket and Neelam donning a below the knee emerald dress with lots of sparkling bangles, that jangled on her arms when she hugged me.

I invited everyone to come into our transformed dining room. Jazz played softly in the background. "Welcome, everyone," I said. "Our dear friend Ella Fitzgerald will be performing here, at the Apollo, later tonight. We are thrilled that you were able to come to our little soiree in her honor."

Everyone helped themselves to the food and sat down in the brightly lit room. Phil poured each a glass of champagne and then proceeded to make a toast. "To an evening of jazz and....murder. Best of luck to all of you. Prost!" Then he laughed a fiendish laugh. Phil was getting into this. When he finished his toast all of the lights went out, other than the candles on the buffet. A shot was heard. Someone let out a scream. Phil went over to the light switch, flipped it back on, and the mystery unfolded. A body lay on the floor.

"Freddie...Freddie, the cornet player in your band...on the floor," Elizabeth said pointing her French manicured finger at the body.

Mike went over to the dummy, turned him over and felt for a pulse in his neck. "He's dead."

For a few seconds, I thought of Les until- Deirdre let out a bloodcurdling scream.

I covered my mouth and tried hard to hold back my laughter. Everyone was well rehearsed in their character. It was a toss-up who was more dramatic, Elizabeth or Deirdre. They should both join the Sudbury Falls' Community Theatre.

Each person asked questions about the victim and revealed facts. Phil got into the action, jumped up a few times from his seat accusing different people of being the murderer, saying why each person was happy that Freddy was dead. You know the saying, "He doth protest too much."

Dinesh and Mike in turn felt that Phil was as much of a suspect as anyone. Dinesh accused Phil of the murder since Freddy had stolen music that Phil composed, claiming it as his own. Deirdre accused Elizabeth of having a thing for Freddy and perhaps later he rejected her advances and she couldn't handle that rejection. Deirdre enjoyed that. Neelam accused Deirdre, since Deirdre was Freddy's first wife whom he cheated on with Elizabeth.

Clues were revealed throughout the evening. Everyone denied their part. Finally, evidence proved that John killed Freddy for a totally different reason. John's mistress of five years, who John was finally going to leave his wife for, was killed in an automobile accident. The car was being driven by Freddy. Freddy was intoxicated at the time and drove off the side of a bridge. One night in a drunken stupor, Freddy told John about the incident. John murdered Freddy to get revenge for her needless death.

The mystery game lasted until around ten o'clock when I served dessert. Afterwards, Phil, Mike, and Dinesh went downstairs and started playing some jazz standards while John and the four of us sat in the living room and visited. I thought again about how much Phil seemed to enjoy the murder mystery game.

Chapter Three.

Tuesday, December 23 While Phil slept in, I sat at the kitchen table quietly eating poached eggs and toast, while reading the newspaper to see if there was anything about Les Hollings in it. Just when I spotted his name, the phone rang. I tilted my chair backwards and reached behind me, picking up the phone on the second ring.

"Kay, have you listened to the news this morning yet?"

The voice had a creakiness to it. "Sarah?"

I looked down at my empty coffee cup. Holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder, I walked over to pour myself a second cup of coffee, adding a little milk and sugar, then returned to the table.

"Yes, it's me. About Les...the autopsy report. He died of an anaphylactic reaction. Traces of peanuts were in his stomach contents."

I sat down at the table. "So it was his peanut allergy. How sad." Les' death could have been prevented. At the tea, Les called out Al. I thought he was calling to some person. Was he trying to say allergy?

"Kay, we need your help."

"With what?"

"Les' murder."

I took a sip of the coffee before I answered. It burned the tip of my tongue. "But it sounds like an accident."

"We don't think so."

I added more milk to my coffee and stirred it. "We?" I raised my eyebrows in surprise and took another sip. "Who's we? And why do you think anyone would kill him? I thought you said everyone loved Les."

"Almost everyone. Kay, I don't think we should be discussing this on the phone. Can you come to the Hill this morning? I've been telling a couple of my friends here about you."

I glanced at the pile of dirty dishes in the sink from last night's party. And I told Phil I wouldn't get involved. "I still need to take a shower. I can be there in an hour. Should I call Deirdre?"