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  Then there was Ted. Something really off-kilter there, and she was headed to his office. How smart was that?

  First she had to get food for Princess and the things Uncle Bob needed.

  At home, as she gathered up those items and put them in a small suitcase, Tina had a sudden urge to call Hank. She hardly ever called him, and she hesitated now.

  Finally, after Uncle Bob’s suitcase was packed, she went to her bedroom, set the case down, and plopped on her bed.

  The phone rang four times before Hank picked up. “‘Lo,” he said, sounding distracted.

  “It’s me,” Tina said.

  “Yes, I know.”

  Caller ID. Why did he sound so distant? She hesitated.

  “Tina? You okay?”

  “No. No, I’m not.” She wouldn’t cry. Couldn’t cry in front of Hank. Well, Hank wasn’t exactly in front of her. She took a shaky breath. She meant she couldn’t let Hank know she was crying, know she was weak.

  “What’s wrong?” Hank asked.

  “Everything.”

  “Well, not everything, surely.”

  “Okay. Lots of things.” Now he was ticking her off with his emotional distance. Brandon too hot; Hank too cold. Couldn’t she find someone just right, like Goldilocks? Everyone was ticking her off. First Brandon, now Hank. She’d been upset with her mother for some time. She felt claustrophobic all of a sudden. “I think I’ll just leave town.”

  “What?” Hank snapped.

  “Leave town. Move to New Jersey. Florida. Yeah, Florida would be good. Warm there.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “You think I’m ridiculous? Wonderful. Brandon thinks I’m silly, and you think I’m ridiculous.” She banged down the receiver and jumped off the bed.

  If it weren’t for Uncle Bob, she’d be looking up the price of airline tickets right now. Yeah, Tina, she told herself, run away again. She’d only done that once in her life, and she still regretted it. But it had worked, for the most part. The nightmares were fewer, the feelings of panic, of having to do something right now, were almost gone.

  The anger was new, though. Unusual for her. It suddenly hit her that often depression was caused by the suppression of anger. Of course. She wouldn’t allow herself to be angry in Virginia. But it was human to feel that way under the circumstances. So maybe her being upset with Brandon and Hank was a little overblown, but it felt good for some reason. Cleansing.

  Almost euphoric, Tina drove back to the hospital where she dropped everything off with hardly a word to her uncle or her mother. Every few minutes her cell phone rang, and finally she turned it off without even glancing to see who had called. She was in no mood to talk to anyone.

  CHAPTER 25

  When she arrived at Ted’s office, Sylvia told her he was with a patient. The office phone rang just as Tina was going to ask about Brenda, so she went to the kitchen and began cleaning. With a vengeance.

  In about an hour, a woman in scrubs came in to get a cup of coffee. “Oh, I didn’t know anyone was in here,” she said.

  Tina wiped her hands on a towel. “I’m Tina. I’m helping to get the office organized and cleaned up.” She held out her hand.

  The other woman came to shake it. She was about medium height, athletic, with her brown hair pulled back severely into a ponytail. She had big brown eyes and a small nose and mouth. “Abby Jacobs. I’m temping.”

  “Yes, of course,” Tina said. “Any word on how Brenda’s doing?”

  “As expected, I suppose, after getting the news.”

  “News?”

  “Oh, you didn’t know? I’m sorry. I can’t say any more.” She took a sip of coffee, watching Tina over the rim.

  “Well,” Tina said, feeling her anger rising again. “I suppose it isn’t good news if you say ‘as expected.’”

  Abby shrugged. Finished her coffee in two swallows. “I have to get back to the patients.”

  Tina sank down into a kitchen chair. All her oomph vanished, leaving her drained and, she admitted to herself, a bit scared. What the hell was going on?

  Ted strode into the room, headed for the coffeepot. He stopped short when he saw her. “Tina. How’s it going?”

  He loomed over her. “Not so good,” she said. “Can you sit down for a minute?”

  He poured himself a mug of coffee. Sat down opposite her. “What’s going on?”

  “Lot of things. Lots of secrets.”

  He stiffened. “Secrets?”

  “About Brenda, for example.”

  He relaxed a bit. “Oh, that. Well, of course I can’t discuss a patient with you.”

  “Of course not.” Tina slammed her hand down on the table, making Ted jump. “But I think I have a right to know.”

  “Why?” Ted asked. He seemed genuinely puzzled.

  Of course he would be, Tina realized. He didn’t know anything about the Lunch Bunch and their secret. How could he? He’d only been in town a few months. Whatever was wrong with Brenda, he wouldn’t see any connection between that and the Lunch Bunch daughters.

  Feeling overwhelmed, Tina shrugged and stood up. “Never mind. It’s too complicated to explain.”

  Ted took her wrist. “Sit down,” he said softly. “Tell me about it. Maybe I can help.”

  Tina suppressed a shudder at his touch. Was it fear? She couldn’t be sure. Why should she be afraid of him? She thought it was his intense interest in her. It felt over the top for some reason. But she sat down and he let go, much to her relief.

  “There are six daughters of women who get together once a month for lunch. Two of the daughters are dead—one from cancer, another murdered. And now a third is in the hospital. We’ve known for some time that the mothers must have a secret, and we think it’s about the daughters, but no one will tell us anything.”

  “What kind of cancer?” Ted asked.

  Tina blinked. “What? Oh, you mean Sally? I don’t know.”

  “No idea? Ever heard what it was but forgot?”

  Tina shook her head, more curious than ever. She’d been away at college, hadn’t heard much, only came home for the funeral.

  “Do you remember if anyone said it was rare?”

  “Maybe. Yes, I think so.”

  Ted stood up. “Find out what kind it was and get back to me.” Then he turned around and walked out of the kitchen.

  Tina sat a moment, her mind blank. Then she stood up to get her purse and sat back down, grabbing her phone from its pocket. She pushed in Hank’s number and waited.

  This time he answered on the first ring. Before he could say more than hello, Tina said, her voice sharp, “I just have one question. What kind of cancer did Sally have?”

  Silence. A long silence. She waited, holding her breath.

  “First,” Hank finally said, “I want to apologize. I didn’t mean you were ridiculous, just that I thought the idea of running away was, well, not a good one.”

  “Fine. You’ve apologized. Sally?”

  “This isn’t like you, Tina. You must know it still hurts to talk about Sally.”

  Her shoulders slumped. She rubbed her forehead, feeling the beginning of a headache. Then the fury came back. “Oh, poor little Hank,” she said, her voice rising. “Give me a break. It’s been over five years since Sally died. You know I know there’s something going on about the daughters of the Lunch Bunch. Now it appears it might have something to do with our health. You and the mothers have no right to hold it back from us.” She banged her fist on the table. “No right, do you hear me?”

  “Only trying to protect you,” Hank began.

  “We have a right to know!” Now she was shouting. Abby stuck her head in the door and stared. Tina waved her away and lowered her voice. “We’re adults. The other adults have an obligation to tell us.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this on the phone … “

  “I’ll be right over.”

  “No. Tina. I can’t talk to you about this. It’s not my place. You’ll have to get i
t from Laura.”

  “Like that’s going to happen.” Her voice was climbing again. She took a long, shuddering breath. “You won’t help me.” Now her tone was flat, defeated.

  “I can’t. Tina, listen—”

  She flipped the phone closed and sat staring at the tabletop. The phone rang once, and she turned the ringer off. No one came into the kitchen. She didn’t know how long she sat there. She felt stiff as an old lady when she stood up, and her head pounded. Mechanically, she put the cleaning products she’d been using away and walked to the front of the office.

  “I have to leave,” she told Sylvia. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “You okay?” Sylvia asked.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  She climbed into her car and sat. She didn’t know how long, but when she became really chilled, she turned on the ignition, put the heater on high, and drove home.

  It felt strange to walk into the empty house. No Uncle Bob and Princess in the kitchen. No feeling of her mother up in her bedroom. She made hot chocolate and slumped in a chair at the kitchen table, alone, to think.

  How could she find out more about Sally? She could call the other daughters and ask what they remembered. That would be a start. Of course, there weren’t a lot of daughters left to ask. Sally and Crystal dead, Brenda in the hospital, not talking. That left Rachel and Leslie. She didn’t think Rachel knew anything. She was younger than the rest, so would have heard even less talk. She flipped open her cell phone and called Leslie.

  As she waited for Leslie to answer, Tina decided it would be better to talk to her in person.

  “Tina, how are you?” Leslie asked.

  “Hi, Leslie. I’ve been better. How about you?”

  “I’m fine. What’s up?”

  “I was wondering if we could talk. I’d like to come by and see you. You have some time today?”

  “Sure. A new client just cancelled an appointment, so I’m free right now.”

  “Great. I’ll be there in ten minutes or less.”

  “Okay.”

  They hung up and Tina drove to Spring Street, found a parking spot about a block away from Leslie’s shop, and walked to the tall, narrow, gray-shingled building in the center of the block. Once a private home, now it had a huge glass front. Leslie had created a window display with classic Victorian furniture, all red velvets and gold and pale yellow paint. Tina stepped inside, and the bell attached to the bright red door tinkled.

  Leslie looked up from the cashier’s desk and came to hug Tina. Then she led Tina to the back where the original kitchen remained. It had old-fashioned fixtures, sink, and a huge stove, but a modern refrigerator. There was room for a large, round oak table and six high-backed chairs, and Leslie gestured toward them, so Tina sat.

  “Tea? Coffee?” Leslie asked. She’d put her long, dark hair into a French twist that suited her face with its high cheekbones, perfect nose, and high forehead. Anyone looking at her could tell she was Brandon’s sister. Of medium height, she had a lush figure that Tina had always envied. She wore an expensive lavender suit and purple high heels.

  “Coffee, I think,” Tina said, shrugging off her coat and removing her scarf.

  Leslie turned to pour them each a cup of already-brewed coffee and returned with the mugs. “Do you take cream now? I remember you used to drink it black.”

  “No, I still drink it that way.”

  Leslie sat down. She helped herself to two heaping spoonsful of sugar from the bowl on the table and stirred. “What’s going on?”

  Tina took a careful sip from her mug and found the coffee too hot to drink. She set it down and watched Leslie as she asked, “Did you know Brenda is in the hospital?”

  Leslie looked shocked. “No. Why?”

  “I don’t know. She said for tests. Said it was nothing serious. But they don’t put people in the hospital for tests if they don’t think it’s serious, do they?”

  “Not usually, I don’t think,” Leslie said. “I don’t know much about medical stuff. No one in the family has ever been ill enough to be in the hospital since I was born.”

  “Well, that’s great,” Tina said. “Uncle Bob is in there right now—he has ulcers.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Is he okay?”

  “Yes, thank goodness. Did you know they’re caused by an infection? Not stress, they’ve found out. Anyway, he should be able to go home tomorrow.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “Yeah. But I understand that Brenda isn’t so lucky. I asked the temp who’s replacing her how Brenda was doing, and she said ‘As expected, I suppose, after getting the news.’”

  Leslie almost choked on the sip of coffee she’d just taken. “What news?”

  “I don’t know. Then I talked to Ted.” When Leslie looked puzzled, Tina said, “The doctor who took over from old Dr. Stevenson.”

  “You call him Ted?”

  “Well, he’s young. He asked me to. I’m helping him organize his office—Dr. Stevenson left it in kind of a mess.”

  Leslie just stared at Tina, then shook her head. “I’m sure that’s an interesting story.”

  Tina felt herself blushing. “For later. Anyway, after I explained a little about the Lunch Bunch and two daughters being dead and another sick, he asked me what kind of cancer Sally had. Do you know?”

  Leslie blinked, then looked off into space. “I don’t think so. I can’t remember anyone ever saying. Of course, we were younger then. They didn’t really discuss it in front of me.”

  “Me, either. We weren’t that young, Leslie. In our early twenties. They were keeping it a secret from us. I’m positive of that now.”

  “How can we find out, I wonder?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think our mothers will tell us. Maybe Brenda will, eventually. Maybe I can talk to Mitzi.”

  “Mitzi? If she remembers.”

  “I think she’ll remember. But you’re positive you don’t know?”

  “Yeah. I’m sure. Now that I think of it, I remember the feeling of being shut out, of vague whisperings behind hands. Don’t you?”

  “Yes, as if it were shameful. I was too timid to ask. Not anymore.” Tina stood up, resolute. “Thanks for the coffee. I’ll let you know as soon as I find out anything.”

  Leslie stood, too. “You know it’s not going to be good, don’t you?”

  “Yes. No, I mean, it’s not going to be good. But I can’t stand not knowing.”

  Leslie sighed. “I’m not so sure I do want to know.”

  Tina put her hand on Leslie’s arm. “That’s okay. If I find out anything, I won’t tell you until you tell me if you want to know.”

  “Thanks. You’ll think I’m a coward.”

  “No. You haven’t had as long to think about all this as I have. I’m pretty sure you’ll want to know in a while.”

  They walked to the front. A middle-aged woman entered the shop, the bell tinkling over her head. Leslie walked toward her, asking her if she could help, leading her into the room. Tina said a quick goodbye and left.

  In the car, she dialed Mitzi’s number, but there was no answer. She looked at her watch. Lunch time. She’d go home and see what was in the fridge.

  As she pulled into her driveway, she glanced in her rearview mirror and saw John and Lisbeth stepping out of their cruiser, their faces solemn. She climbed out of her VW, wondering what they wanted now, realizing she hadn’t thought about her missing gun in a long time. Maybe she should have.

  CHAPTER 26

  The two officers approached her in their usual style, John aggressively, Lisbeth more casual. But for all her off-handedness, Lisbeth was probably the smarter of the two, and maybe even more intense inside than John.

  John carried a gun in a clear plastic bag.

  Tina swallowed hard and without a word walked up the side path to the front door, unlocked it, and held it open for the other two.

  They entered the living room and all sat down. John put the bagged gun on the coffee
table, where it sat as a threatening centerpiece.

  “Is that mine?” She wasn’t going to be polite and make small talk. She’d treat them as they treated her.

  “It’s registered to you,” John said. “When did you see it last?” He took out his notebook.

  “I don’t know. It’s not something I mark down on my calendar. ‘Saw gun today.’ ‘Didn’t see gun today.’”

  “Too bad.”

  “Yes.”

  No one said anything for a moment.

  Tina reached for it. “So, you came to return it to me,” she said, deliberately not making it a question.

  “Don’t touch it!” John said.

  Tina withdrew her hand. “Is it the murder weapon, then?” Her heart beat faster at the thought, and her vision grayed around the edges. She was glad her voice didn’t shake. At least, she didn’t think it shook.

  Lisbeth sighed. “No. It’s not. However, since you found the body and your gun was missing, we need to hold onto it for a bit.”

  “What’s a bit? There’s a killer out there. It might be a good idea for me to have my gun back.”

  “If you were so concerned,” John said, “you would have purchased a new one by now. Or your friend, Hank, would have given you one.”

  “Do you know Hank?” Tina held her breath.

  The three of them looked at one other. “Yes,” Lisbeth said. John didn’t answer.

  “How?”

  “How? What do you mean how?” Lisbeth wrinkled her forehead and shrugged.

  “You know him because of your job?”

  “I know him socially,” Lisbeth said stiffly.

  “Oh,” Tina said. “How’d you meet old Hank?”

  She could see it on the tip of Lisbeth’s tongue—“None of your business.” But Lisbeth had more control than that. She shrugged again. “Don’t remember, exactly.”

  “At work, I bet,” Tina said.

  But Lisbeth didn’t give it away. John did. His body jerked just slightly, and he scowled at Tina. “Look,” he said. “We’re here about this gun.”