I pressed my lips together. I might’ve engaged in a similar rant a time or two. “That’s unfortunate,” I said.
“He’ll move eventually.” Hunter waved at the car and focused on me, his expression unreadable. “You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here.”
“Oh, well ... .”
“I’m going to introduce her to the euchre ladies,” Sebastian volunteered. “She told me about Martha and asked about potential enemies. The only ones I could think of were those old cranks who play in the euchre tournaments here.”
Hunter rubbed his chin. “I didn’t even consider that, but it makes sense.”
I was taken aback. “Wait ... you’re not going to give me grief for asking questions about Martha?”
Amusement danced behind his eyes. “Why would I?”
“Because ... because ... .”
Hunter chuckled. “I’m fine if you want to ask questions. We don’t have a determination from the medical examiner’s office yet. I don’t know if we’ll get those answers tonight, so if you want to feel the euchre club out while I’m waiting, I don’t have a problem with it.”
“I figured you would tell me to keep my nose out of your business.”
“Last time I checked, in about a week, my business is going to be your business.” His smile was slow and flirty. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”
“Oh, that was charming,” Sebastian intoned with a smile. “You’re much better at this than you were when you were kids.”
“I should certainly hope so,” Hunter said. “Either way, I’m not your boss. You’re not doing anything illegal. There’s a chance Martha was poisoned, so all I ask is that you don’t accept a drink from any of the card sharks in there. You know, just to be on the safe side.”
It seemed a fair request. “I think I can do that.” I managed a small smile. “Don’t let Douglas run you over.”
“I’ve got it,” he reassured me, holding my gaze before taking a step back. “You guys stay out of trouble.”
“We will,” Sebastian promised, saluting. He waited until Hunter was back across the street again to speak. “I’ve got a hundred bucks that says you guys don’t last the week.”
I pinned him with a withering look. “We’re not animals.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Okay, but I’m still wagering that your hormones get the best of you.”
“You’re on.”
THE SENIOR CENTER HAD BEEN REMODELED in the years since I’d left town. I’d never spent a lot of time in the sprawling building, but the restaurant catered funerals and other events at the facility and I’d helped with those, so I was familiar with the previous decor.
“They’ve done this place up,” I noted as Sebastian led me inside. “I’m surprised the town had the money to spend on this.”
“The town finds the money for specific enhancements while pleading poverty about other things.”
“That sounds about right.” I followed Sebastian into the adjacent room, my eyes going wide when I registered the set-up. “What the ... ?”
Sebastian’s smirk was pronounced. “Yeah. They’ve really done it up right.”
There was no arguing that. Gone were the simple card tables and folding chairs, replaced by nice wooden tables and padded easy chairs. Each table featured an ornate candle — the flameless variety.
“Wow.”
“Wow, indeed,” Sebastian agreed. “Come this way.” He hooked his arm through mine and dragged me toward the center table. “This is where the sharks swim.”
“Okay.”
“This is also the group Martha played with ... until recently.”
“You drag out a story like my grandfather. Just tell me what you’re getting at.”
“It will be more fun if the ladies tell you.” Sebastian cleared his throat to garner the attention of the three women sitting at the table. They all had mugs of what looked like coffee in front of them — although given the smiles they shot Sebastian it was possible there was a little something extra in there, too. I could feel curiosity when they shifted their attention to me.
“Hello, ladies.” Sebastian was full of charm as he greeted each woman with her own head nod and grin. “I’m sure you remember Stormy Morgan?”
The nearest woman, the one with flame-red hair that clearly came from a box, nodded. “Charlie Archer’s granddaughter.”
“That’s me,” I said, doing my best to place the woman’s face.
Sebastian smoothly kept control of the conversation so I didn’t have to ask the obvious question. “So, in case you don’t remember — and who wouldn’t remember these lovely and ageless faces? — this is Dorothy Pearson, Laura Bix, and Patty Dobkins.”
The names meant nothing to me at first, but memories began to push toward the forefront. “You played tennis with my grandmother,” I said to Laura. “You used to yell that she didn’t move fast enough.”
Laura snorted. “Yes, well, I didn’t move fast enough either. We gave up tennis for croquet for a time.”
I furrowed my brow. “Croquet?”
“Your grandmother saw some people playing it on a travel show and thought it would be fun to try.”
“It sounds a little weird.”
“It was weird. It lasted two months. Then we started playing cards.”
“I’m guessing that was a better fit.”
Laura nodded. “We all play several times a week.”
I craned my neck. “Is my grandmother here now?” I couldn’t decide if that would make things easier or more difficult. She was always hard to read.
“She won’t be here for another two hours,” Patty replied. “She has a hair appointment.”
“Well, she wants to stay platinum forever,” I said with a grin.
“She does,” Dorothy agreed, her attention flicking to Sebastian. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what brings you down to the home for the aged today? Nobody has died?”
Sebastian flashed a tight smile. “I’m not here for funeral duty, but somebody has died ... and I might very well be handling the funeral.”
“Who?” Patty demanded, straightening in her chair. “Please tell me it’s not Maxine Murphy? She still owes me a hundred bucks from the tournament last week. I just knew she would find a way to weasel out of paying up.”
“It’s not Maxine,” Sebastian reassured her. “It’s Martha Madison.”
A ripple of surprise ran through the women.
“Martha?” Laura asked. “Are you certain?”
“She died in Stormy’s arms outside Two Broomsticks. It happened rather fast.”
“In your arms?” Laura’s eyebrows migrated toward her hairline, and the way they moved made me realize they were drawn on. “How did that happen? Your grandfather didn’t get annoyed with her sending her pancakes back and thwack her over the head with a skillet, did he?”
I spared a glance for Sebastian, unsure what I was supposed to say, and then opted for the truth. “We’re not quite sure what happened. She seemed fine over breakfast, but then she collapsed in the parking lot. She was gone before the paramedics could get there.”