LITMIR.BIZ

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with cooking if you followed the recipe, you knew what you were getting, which was more than she could say about investigating a homicide.

      “Well, yes,” Bree replied. “After all, it’s not as if you haven’t done this before, because you certainly have. Twice, to be exact.”

      “Lucy won’t like it,” Libby said. “He won’t like that at all.”

      “He certainly won’t,” Bernie chimed in.

      Bree flicked a mote of dust off her suit jacket before replying. “Ordinarily you’d be correct in your assessment, but I’ve persuaded him for the good of the town to set aside his normal way of doing things.”

      “Doing what?” a voice boomed.

      Libby looked up. Chief Lucas Broad had joined them. He was wearing his uniform, but then he always wore his uniform.

      Bree smiled sweetly. “Ah, Chief Broad. I was just saying that you’ve graciously decided to accept Bernie and Libby’s help with our little problem.”

      “And my father’s,” Bernie said. “We come as a package.”

      Libby watched Lucas Broad open his mouth, then close it again. It was no secret that the chief and her father hated each other.

      “Isn’t that right, Chief?” Bree said.

      The chief struggled with the word for a second. Finally he managed to get a yes out. “That is correct,” he said.

      Libby was interested to note that a look of what seemed like genuine pain was crossing the chief’s face as he uttered those words. What does she have on him? Libby wondered as Bree turned to Libby and Bernie and gave them one of her brilliant smiles.

      “See,” she said, “I told you things would be fine.” She waved a hand in their direction. “Now you three arrange things among yourselves. I have some other problems I have to settle.” And she walked away.

      Libby watched her as she rounded the corner and entered the green room. Then she turned her gaze back to the chief. He was standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, his foot tapping, and a scowl on his face.

      “Okay,” he said. “Let’s get something straight here. I’m doing this for the good of the town. Understand?”

      Libby nodded. Somehow she managed to keep from looking at Bernie. If she had, they both would have started laughing.

      “That is the only reason this is happening.”

      “Boy, Bree must have something on you,” Bernie observed. “Or your wife.”

      Why does she have to say things like that? Libby thought as she observed the chief’s eyes becoming little slits. Why does she always have to make things worse? Her sister could never seem to grasp the fact that what she said had real consequences, as in who would take care of her father and run the store if Bernie got herself arrested? Libby, that’s who.

      “That is libel,” the chief huffed.

      “Sorry,” Bernie said. “I was just kidding.”

      “Libeling a public official is a felony,” the chief continued.

      “Are you going to arrest me?” Bernie asked.

      “She didn’t mean it,” Libby said, stepping between her sister and the chief of police. “She’s upset.”

      The chief considered Libby’s words for a moment. Then he said, “We’re all upset by Hortense’s untimely demise. She was a well-loved member of the community and will be missed.”

      Libby caught a look from her sister. If there was anything less true, she couldn’t imagine it.

      The chief continued on. “Given the nature of everything, I’ve agreed to conduct things a little differently than I usually would.” He coughed into his fist. “We’ve decided to try to delay publicizing this tragic event. At least as much as we can. Bree has persuaded me that, given the nature of the outrage, it would be better, public-relations-wise, if we had a suspect in custody when we do, which is where you come in.”

      “Why us?” Bernie asked.

      “Obviously,” the chief said, “because you’re here. Because you know these people.”

      “We don’t know them,” Libby objected.

      “Of course you do,” Lucy said. “You’re caterers, aren’t you?”

      “Yes,” Libby said.

      “So there you go,” the chief said.

      Bernie tapped her foot on the floor.

      “That’s a little like saying that just because I’m Irish, I go to mass every Sunday.”

      “You mean you don’t?” the chief said.

      “We’re Protestant.”

      “I don’t care. What I care about is that there will be no nonsense from either one of you, understand?”

      “What do you mean by nonsense?” Bernie asked.

      As Libby watched, the chief’s eyes got even smaller.

      “I mean the kind of things you and your sister do,” he snarled.

      “I don’t suppose you could be more specific?” Bernie asked, goading him on.

      Judging from the expression on Lucy’s face, Libby decided this was not a good question.

      Lucy raised one of his hands and ticked things off as he spoke.

      “No breaking and entering, no misrepresenting yourselves, no illegal entries, no stealing vehicles. In fact, no illegal activities of any kind. Is that good enough for you?”

      “Shucks, and I was so looking forward to doing all of that,” Bernie said.

      Libby noted that Lucy’s eyes seemed to be disappearing all together.

      “Do we at least get badges?” Bernie asked.

      Bernie, just shut up, Libby thought as the chief stuck his face about an inch away from her sister’s.

      “I’d rather go to hell.”

      “Well, that’s a fairly clear response,” Bernie said. “Can we at least see the case file?”

      “There is no case file at the present moment, but if there was, the answer would be no,” the chief told her.

      “Then how are we supposed to work?” Libby demanded.

      “The way you always do,” the chief said. “By blundering along.”

      “What if we don’t want to do this?” Libby asked him.

      He looked at her for a moment before replying. Then he said, “I don’t think that’s an option.”

      Bernie put her hands on her hips. “What are you going to do, arrest us?” she demanded.

      The chief stroked his chin.

      “You know,” he said, “it’s amazing how many little rules and regulations towns like ours accumulate over the years. Code enforcement, especially in food establishments, is a tricky thing.”

      “Are you threatening us?” Libby asked.

      The chief put his hand over his heart.

      “I never threaten,” the chief said. “Your father will tell you that. I was merely pointing out the obvious. By the way, the missus would love it if we could have one of your mince pies for Christmas.”

      Libby forced herself to smile. “No problem,” she said.

      “And we’d like a double portion of hard sauce.”

      “Of course,” Libby said.

      “But

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