"I remember you." Lola paused. "We were close...very close. Les and I." A tear rolled down her cheek. She lowered her head then looked up at me. "We were going to be engaged." She wiped her cheek with the palm of her hand. "Why...."

CLANG! The woman setting the table dropped a tray of silverware. We looked at her then I turned back at Lola. "I'm sorry. It's so tragic."

Lola nodded. She wiped her cheek again.

"Were any of the residents in the kitchen the morning of the tea? Or the director, the doctor, anyone who isn't normally in there?"

She made a humph sound. "Are you kidding? The director?" I could hear the anger in her voice. "It would be beneath her to grace us in the kitchen. If she wants to speak to someone, she summons us...like a queen, to her office. No. I wouldn't have minded if the doctor would come into the kitchen. He is... Well, he's nice." She put her head down. "But no, Sheila's the head of the kitchen. She takes care of everything."

"What about the residents? Were any of them in there that day?"

"They pop in from time to time looking to see what we are serving or to visit a little. We all have our favorites. That morning?" Lola hesitated for a few moments. "It was busy, getting everything ready. I saw a few. Anne Niven popped in, said she was doing research on a Christmas book she was writing. A couple others, that nasty new man...Mr. Barnowski. Probably checking out the kitchen staff. He pinched my butt the other day. I gave him a piece of my mind. There were others. Can't remember."

Hmm. Barnowski and Anne popped in. I wonder why Anne didn't mention this. "Who put the food on the trays that you served?

"Sheila arranged the trays."

"Did every table receive the same foods."

"A few of the residents on special diets sat at their assigned tables but otherwise everyone's was the same, down to the exact number of those little cookies on the trays."

So why then would Les have had peanut products in his food, but not Martin's friend at the next table? "Were the trays marked for specific tables?"

"Why all the questions? You a cop? You don't look like-"

The kitchen door opened. "Lola, Nancy wants to see you in her office," the lean, muscular woman looked at me. "Pronto."

"You know, when you get summoned..." Lola hurried out of the dining room without finishing her sentence, the door swinging behind her. The muscular woman went back into the kitchen.

I started putting on my coat to leave. The young woman who had dropped the silverware came over to me and said in a low voice, "Don't believe Lola. I heard what she was telling you. Les broke up with her months ago. Several months ago. Lola was so angry with him. She looked like she could have killed him for days after he broke up with her. That being engaged talk is a lie."

"Kill? Do you mean that?"

"I shouldn't have said kill. But angry, you bet."

"I'm Kay Driscoll. What's your name?"

She looked between the swinging dining room door that Lola just went out of and the kitchen door. "Chelsey."

"Chelsey, did Les have a new girl friend?"

She looked at me kind of strange-like and shrugged her shoulders.

"At the tea, Lola said the trays were marked for specific tables?"

"They were. We have numbers for all the tables in the dining room. Sheila put the numbers of the tables on the trays." Chelsey looked over at the kitchen door again. "I need to get back to the kitchen."

"Here. I'm going to write down my name and phone number if you remember anything else about the tea."

"Les told me once that something funny was-"

Just then, the same muscular woman came out of the kitchen again and looked between Chelsey and me. She called out Chelsey's name and went back into the kitchen. "That's Sheila. She mustn't be kept waiting," Chelsey said, with a roll of her eyes as she hustled into the kitchen. I had the feeling this wasn't the friendliest place to work.

A minute later, Nancy came into the dining room followed by Lola. Maybe Lola had told her I was asking questions about Les and she wanted to see if I was still here.

Her look was direct. Her sharp eyes had a warning of "back off" written in them. Then they quickly changed. Had I imagined that? "Hello, Mrs. Driscoll. Can I help you?"

"I heard Les' autopsy results. I was wondering which foods had the peanuts."

She looked down at her watch. "As I told you before, it wasn't our food. This isn't any of your business."

"I feel like I have a part in all of this since I tried to save the man."

"I'm expecting a new resident in my office soon. You'll have to excuse me. Please show yourself out."

She turned around and left the dining room. There was more to Nancy than met the eye.

Before I left Hawthorne Hills, I stopped off at Dr. Lee's office to find out why the food that was on Les' table wasn't saved. His office was dark.

On the way home, I stopped at Goodman's and stocked up on Christmas gift wrap and bought a couple boxes of Christmas cards. I bought a scarf, similar to what Will gave to Frances' mom. It was on sale and a real steal. I tried on a few sweaters but had a hard time choosing one. I kept wondering what Chelsey had been about to tell me. Then I went into the book department and found a set of CDs called Italian for Beginners. I paid for my purchases and hurried to the car.

As I approached our house, I saw a moving truck in Ted's driveway. I knew I should go over to welcome the new neighbors, but Will would be going back tomorrow with Andy and Rose until they all returned on New Year's Eve for Phil's gig. I could welcome whomever they were some other day.

When I walked into the kitchen, there was a pile of games on the counter. It looked like someone wanted to spend the afternoon playing board games. The Game of Living, Evidence, Chess, and Masterbrain.

Glancing at each of the titles made me think of Les' murder. The Game of Living: Investigating Les' murder would lead to setbacks, delays, and randomness thrown in to make everything more difficult. Foresight and focus would play just as big a part as evidence in this case. Evidence: It was done in the dining room, with peanut products, by the director, the girlfriend, the mystery writer, a resident, the doctor, or someone else. Which one? Which one? Chess: The dark side and me. Think long term before taking steps. Adapt to changing situations. Give up smaller wins for larger milestones later. Tenacity. Masterbrain: trying to divine the true nature of the murder through reasoning and logic. A hidden answer which must be brought to light.

We started with "Living" and then went on to "Evidence." We played until it started to get dark. Then while Andrew, Rose and I prepared dinner, Phil and Will began a game of chess.

Chapter Seven.

Saturday, December 27 Will, Andy, and Rose left after breakfast. I looked through the travel book on Italy. I'd need to get brochures, and lots of them. I took out the first language CD and started listening. We weren't going to go to Italy until summer. I'd have plenty of time to become fluent in Italian, or at least fluent enough to know how to ask the important things, like how much something costs or to how to order Tiramisu.

Listen to this conversation. Then repeat each part. Buon giorno Signorino. "Buon...giorno Signorino," I repeated. How do you say, Good day, Miss? "Buon giorno Signorino," I said. The phone rang.

"Kay." It was Elizabeth. "Have you gone over to meet the new neighbors yet?"

"I haven't had time to. Will and Andy just left."

"I baked carrot apple muffins this morning."

I glanced at my watch. "Really, Elizabeth. At nine o'clock in the morning."

"Okay, so I bought them. Let's go over and see who moved in."

"Don't you think it's a bit soon? Shouldn't we give them a little time?"

"Deirdre and I are going over at ten o'clock. If you'd like to come..."

"Okay, okay. I'll go."

We rang the doorbell. It felt strange standing at Ted's front door knowing someone else would answer it.

"Weird vibes are radiating from this house," Deirdre said.

I smiled. "Maybe it hasn't been properly feng shui'ed."

"We'll have to see," Deirdre said.

A man with a tanned face, fair hair that was graying at the temples, and green eyes answered the door. "Hello, ladies." He smiled an irrepressible, cheeky smile.

Stunned, but still the first to speak, I said, "Hello. I'm Kay Driscoll from next door. These are my friends, Elizabeth and Deirdre."

We all shook hands. "Nice to meet you...Kay, Deirdre," he hesitated, "Elizabeth." I noticed he held Elizabeth's hand a few seconds longer. "My name is Robert...Robert Peterson."

There was an awkward pause. "We wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood," I continued. This was the distinguished man that I watched at Elizabeth's party. The one who had good taste in shoes and an expensive watch. I glanced down first at his wrist then at his shoes. A frown followed; old sneakers, no watch. He must be dressed-down for moving. I looked over at Elizabeth. Surely Elizabeth already knew him. He was at her party. But she just stood there. Why wasn't she opening her mouth?

I nudged Elizabeth's elbow a little. "It's nice to meet you, Robert. These are for you," Elizabeth said, handing over a basket of muffins. "I made them this morning."

I looked at the muffins, then glanced over at Elizabeth, and smiled to myself. I hoped an ingredient label didn't cling to any of the muffins.

"How thoughtful, Elizabeth," he said warmly, taking the basket from her. "They look delicious. Would you like to come in?"

"We'd love to," Deirdre said, peering past Elizabeth at the arrangement of the furniture.

I gave Deirdre's sleeve a little tug. "You must have lots to do, Robert."

"I'm ready for a break. Please come in if you have the time." Deirdre strode into the house, with Elizabeth following close behind.

As I entered, I heard Elizabeth saying to Deirdre in a low voice, "I'm feeling some vibes also."

I looked at her. She winked and smiled.

We walked into the living room. It was filled with boxes, in some places almost up to the ceiling. I always liked Ted's house. Robert's furniture was modern. Something you would see in Architectural Digest. He removed some packing paper from the sofa and chairs and straightened out the cushions.

"Sorry about the mess," he said.

Deirdre stood in the center of the room with her arms out, surveying the layout of the space. I sat at one end of the sofa, Elizabeth in the middle. Robert sat next to Elizabeth, looked at Deirdre, and then at me, and then back over at Elizabeth.

"Where did you move from?" Deirdre stopped circling to ask.

"Chicago," he said, still looking at Elizabeth.

"Did you know that your furniture should all be turned ninety degrees to face the northwest?"

Everyone ignored Deirdre, especially Robert who was still staring at Elizabeth. Come on. Elizabeth was nice looking, but Robert didn't care if his apparent interest in Elizabeth was obvious. Too bad she would be engaged soon to John. "Where in Chicago?" I asked.

"My wife and I had a condo facing Millenium Park, in the building across the street from the Chicago Cultural Center. If you know the area," he added. I did know the area. Was it my imagination or did Elizabeth's shoulders slump when Robert mentioned his wife.

"Your wife?" I asked.

He continued. "She died last year after a lengthy illness. Chicago held too many memories." He took his eyes off Elizabeth for the first time and looked towards the window.

Elizabeth's face wore a look of empathy that seemed genuine. "I'm sorry," she said.

"And you moved here?" I asked. My inflection went up on the word here.

"Kay, what's wrong with Sudbury Falls?" Elizabeth snapped, then smiled at Robert.

I shrugged my shoulders.

He stood up. "Where are my manners? Would you like some coffee, tea?"

Or me, I thought, looking over at Elizabeth. "Well..." Elizabeth began.

"Didn't I see you at Elizabeth's party last week?" I asked. Elizabeth looked at me with a surprised look.

"So you did." He sat down again, shifted in his seat. I watched Robert as he prepared his reply. Was that a hint of sweat on his forehead?

"I was driving past the house, and saw people going in and out of Elizabeth's home. And thought, why not?"

I looked between Deirdre and Elizabeth and raised my eyebrows. Our new neighbor was an admitted party crasher.

He smiled and continued. "See what the neighbors are like. Quite pleased I must say."

Elizabeth returned his smile, then looked down.

I had never seen Elizabeth act shy before. Deirdre was being very quiet also.

"Elizabeth, you were attending to your guests, I never had the chance to introduce myself. I only stayed a few minutes. I must say, I enjoyed your toast."

Creepy. It was like Deirdre read my mind and looked over at me. "I think it's time to go, and leave you to your unpacking," Deirdre said.

Elizabeth gave Deirdre a pleading look. Then I stood up and Deirdre and Elizabeth followed. We said our good-byes.

After we got outside, Elizabeth gave a theatrical sigh. "That was sudden, Deirdre. And I must say...rude."