“Massachusetts doesn’t have the death penalty,” Joe pointed out dryly.
“A card from the store?” Adam said then. “But…anyone could have one of those cards.”
“Adam, there was what looks to be gum on it,” Joe told him.
Adam frowned. “No. No, I’m being set up. By someone who figured out I was having problems. I swear, I couldn’t have done this. I must be being set up.” His arms went rigid with tension as he struggled against the restraints. “I didn’t do it,” he said pleadingly to Jeremy. “You have to believe me. And you have to get out there and find out who did do it. I’ve been reading up on the past myself, reading about Satanists. He’s going to kill seven. And he has my wife!”
Ginny greeted them at the door. “Oh, my God! I heard about Adam, and it’s so terrible. I never would have thought…But now that they have him, I hope they find poor Eve and she’s all right. But at least he’s in custody, so now we don’t have to be so worried. Come on in, dear. Oh—you’re not Jeremy,” she said, studying Zach as he came in behind Rowenna.
“Zachary Flynn, Miss MacElroy,” Zach said politely. “Jeremy’s brother.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said, looking him up and down. “Well, you just go on into the kitchen over there while I get Rowenna decked out. I made biscuits, and there’s coffee on the stove. Unless you prefer tea?”
“Coffee is fine by me,” Zach said, and started in the direction of the kitchen.
“You. Upstairs,” Ginny said.
As Rowenna obediently followed orders, she noticed that Zach hadn’t gone to the kitchen after all. He was silently returning to the foyer—and crossing through to Dr. MacElroy’s study.
Upstairs, Ginny chattered on about everything and nothing. The festival was so much work, but it was good for tourism. It was terrible, just terrible, all those women dying right under their noses. Thank God Jeremy was such a nice young man. He listened to her and checked out the lights.
Rowenna found herself hoping it wasn’t going to be too cold for the duration of the festival. The harvest cape itself—rich brown velvet with fall leaves cut from satin sewn on it—was warm. But beneath it, over brown tights and a bodysuit, the queen’s gown was pure gauze, scattered here and there with more satin leaves. At least there were brown fur-lined boots to go with it, and long, fur-trimmed brown gloves, as well.
When Rowenna was fully dressed, Ginny stepped back. “Oh,” she said, clapping her hands together in delight. “You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect. Let’s show Mr. Flynn, shall we?”
Had Zach had time to finish searching through the doctor’s desk? Rowenna wondered.
“I think we should keep the outfit a surprise,” Rowenna said.
“If you say so,” Ginny said with a sigh. “If only I could look like that. I did, once, of course. I was quite beautiful in my youth.”
“You’re still beautiful,” Rowenna assured her.
She took her time getting dressed again.
When they got downstairs, Zach was waiting for them at the foot of the stairs. “Ginny, your back lock has been jimmied,” he told her. “Did you know?”
“What?”
He waved for them to follow him through to the kitchen and over to the back door. There were marks on the door and the frame, and the lock was broken.
“Oh, my God!” Ginny gasped. “Someone broke in here.”
“I’ve called in the police—and a locksmith,” Zach told her. “With your permission, I’ll walk through the rest of the house and just make sure things look secure.”
Ginny nodded fervently. “Do you think someone is hiding in here now?” she asked, clutching Rowenna’s arm.
“Zach will make sure you’re safe,” Rowenna assured Ginny. “But I’m sure whoever did this is long gone.”
She couldn’t believe Zach had broken the lock just to get a chance to inspect the house. That was going a little overboard, Rowenna thought.
But she didn’t give him away.
She let Ginny cling to her, and by the time Zach finished his inspection, a policeman was at the door. Zach explained the situation, and they left Ginny in the hands of the officer. On their way out, they saw the locksmith’s truck arriving.
“That was quite a ruse,” she told him. “What happens when they find your fingerprints all over that lock?”
He looked at her in surprise, his brows drawn together very much the way Jeremy’s often were. “That wasn’t a ruse, and they won’t find my fingerprints. Her house really was broken into.”
“What?”
“It probably happened last night, and I think it was because someone was planting this. I found it on the doctor’s desk.”