Death Among the Doilies by Mollie Cox Bryan

head.
    â€œThree adults and one child,” Cora answered. “Ruby, what’s going on?”
    â€œAs I was walking by, well, I noticed something strange,” she said.
    â€œStrange? A strange person?” Glass said, standing up.
    â€œNo, I wish. I didn’t see him,” she replied. Her hands were on her hips, now, and her voice was forceful.
    â€œHim?” Jane said. “Him who?” Jane’s voice rose a few decibels.
    â€œCalm down,” Shimer said, standing up. “Let her finish.”
    Jane stood close to Cora, wondering what Ruby was blathering on about. She tended to be a little dramatic at times.
    â€œSomeone spray-painted a message on Jane’s door,” Ruby said.
    â€œHuh? My door?” Jane said.
    â€œWhat does it say?” Cora asked.
    Ruby shook her head back and forth.
    â€œLet’s go out there and check it out,” Shimer said.
    They all followed Ruby out, through the back kitchen door, past the rows of marigolds and mums, and down to the quaint carriage house Jane called home. The place was newly painted in sky blue and cranberry trim around the windows—with the approval of the historical commission. They had hung shutters and flower boxes to match last week.
    A gasp escaped from Jane’s mouth as she read the message. G O H OME , K ILLER was spray-painted in orange across her door.
    Cora stood beside her and wrapped her arm around her.
    Ruby cleared her throat. “There was an intruder on this property, Officers, one who vandalized this house. What are you going to do about it—stand there, looking stupid?”
    The cops eyed each other. Shimer pulled out his cell phone and called the station. “We’ll need to search the area. It couldn’t have happened very long ago. What time did you leave your house this morning?” he asked Jane.
    Jane couldn’t speak. Her mouth wouldn’t move. Why was her tongue so dry?
    â€œShe came to a breakfast meeting at eight-thirty,” Cora said. “I’m sorry, Officers, I think she’s had quite a shock. I should really get her inside.”
    â€œI agree,” Shimer said. He slipped his cell phone in his pocket. “We’re going to search the area. It’s eleven-thirty, so the person could be anywhere by now. But we’ll ask around. Maybe a neighbor saw something. You never know.”
    â€œThanks, so much, Officer,” Cora said, leading Jane away and into the house, past Ruby and Jude, who stood by, befuddled.
    Jane forced a smile as they passed Jude and went back into the kitchen, where Cora sat her down and put a glass of water in front of her. Jane held the water in her hand—it was so nice and cool against her sweaty skin. She took a drink and then pressed the glass to her face.
    â€œAre you okay?” Cora asked.
    â€œI don’t know,” Jane said, after a minute. Light was streaming through the kitchen window and shining right on Cora, her best friend in the world, standing there with an air of concern pasted on her face, but sheer fear was just beneath the facade. Jane knew this because she knew Cora so well. “Stop biting your lip.”
    â€œOkay. It’s going to be okay,” Cora said. “Cashel is going to get you completely off, of course, because you are innocent and then . . .”
    â€œBut someone believes I’m guilty,” she said.
    Cora sighed. “It looks that way, doesn’t it? Okay, let them believe what they want.”
    â€œBut in the meantime—”
    â€œIn the meantime, we do as Cashel suggests.”
    â€œYou mean we just . . . act like nothing has happened?”
    â€œYes,” Cora said after a minute, but she looked away.
    â€œReally?” Jane said. There was something about the way Cora turned from her and started wiping off the kitchen counter. She was hiding something. “For some reason, I don’t quite believe you.”
    Cora turned to face her.