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casual for Bernard Katz.” I thought for a moment. The path through the preserve ended up right next to Cliffside. Maybe Estelle had lured him out for a late-night rendezvous. “Do you think he might have been going to meet a woman?”
    John looked up, startled. “What makes you say that?”
    “Just a guess,” I said.
    John said nothing, and I guessed I had hit close to home. I wondered what Katz had had with him that pointed to a meeting with a woman. Flowers? Condoms? If he was meeting with Estelle, my guess would be something more expensive, like a forty-carat diamond bracelet. Although that might be hard to explain to Stanley. On the other hand, Stanley didn’t seem to care too much what Estelle did.
    “So you don’t think he was out trying to destroy the terns’ nests?” I asked.
    “I don’t imagine so, not in a sports coat and slacks.”

    The kettle whistled, and I got up to fix tea. I had just poured the water into the pot when Gwen swept into the kitchen with a sketchbook under her arm, looking stunning in a red floral sleeveless dress that clung to her slim figure. I was suddenly conscious of the fact that I hadn’t changed clothes or looked in a mirror since my fall on the cliff that morning.
    My eyes darted to John; his eyes crinkled into a smile. “Hiya, Gwen.”
    “Hiya, John. Hey, Aunt Nat.” Her eyes registered the plates on the table. “Ooh, scones. Can I have one?”
    “Sure,” I said. She grabbed two. “Where are you off to?” I asked.
    “I’ve got a sketching class with Fernand this afternoon” Before I could ask, she said, “I’m done with all of the rooms. I didn’t do Katz’s, though.”
    “Thanks,” I said. “Apparently that room’s off-limits for a while, anyway. Will you be back in time for dinner?”
    “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll grab a sandwich.” She glanced at the table. “And maybe a scone or two, if there are any left.”
    “See you later, then,” I said. “Have fun.”
    John’s eyes followed her out of the room, then returned to me. I felt like an ugly stepsister in the presence of Cinderella. I hoped John didn’t plan on trying out for the role of Prince Charming.
    “I don’t understand how she eats the way she does and stays so skinny,” I said. “It’s not fair”
    “Ah, youth,” said John. “Still, kids that young are like California fruit; they look good, but they have no flavor.” He winked at me. “They need to get a few more years under their belts before they become interesting.”

    I felt the blood rush to my face and stood up, bumping the table with my skinned knee. “Cream or sugar?” I asked in a strangled voice.
    “Neither,” he said, grinning. I doctored my own tea and sat down again, still smarting.
    “So,” I said, “are the police considering anyone other than me as a suspect?”
    “Who said they were considering you?” John said. “Just because Grimes asked some pointed questions doesn’t mean you’re a suspect. Besides, it’s not official that Katz was murdered. We haven’t gotten the coroner’s report back yet, remember?”
    “True. I guess I have a few days left before Grimes decides to slap me in jail.”
    “Nat, let’s wait and see what happens, okay?” John reached across the table and grabbed my hand. Once again, my whole body warmed at his touch. Then he squeezed, and I winced.
    “Sorry.” He let go, and the warmth faded. “I forgot how banged up you are. Anyway,” he continued, “if it is murder, the coroner’s report may turn up some new information. It’s still early going.” He leaned back in his chair. Biscuit looked up and mewed for more attention.
    “Maybe Grimes is just trying to make me nervous,” I said. “Besides, aren’t something like ninety percent of murders committed by family members?”
    John laughed. “Let’s find out if anyone other than Katz is to blame before we start pointing fingers.” “
    I guess we’ll just have to wait and see”
    Yup.

    By the