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lips. I still wasn’t used to the tentative courtship going on between Martin and Miss Georgina.
    “Victoria, could we go into the parlor?” Miss Jane asked. “It’ll be more comfortable in there, and Mr. Riley could share more of his adventures with us.”
    Martin snorted, then coughed in a poor attempt to cover it up. Georgina sent him a worried glance and shook her head.
    “I have a better idea. How about the great hall?” I figured it would lend a backdrop of ambience to Mr. Riley’s stories.
    Murmurs of assent met my suggestion, so we were soon seated on the deep leather chairs and sofas in front of the nearly wall-sized fireplace.
    “It’s very kind of you to arrange this welcome dinner for me, Miss Storm.” Mr. Riley flashed a smile in my direction. The kind that had probably melted the hearts of many a lady in his younger years. Even I could feel the charisma. Eightiesor not, he definitely had finesse and charm. No wonder Martin was jealous.
    “Mr. Riley, how is Jenny? We haven’t heard from her in a while,” Miss Jane said.
    Jenny Simon, a.k.a. 1940s film starlet Jeannette Simone, was Mr. Riley’s ex-wife and still good friend. While she lived here for a few months the year before, we’d discovered she had a daughter by Miss Aggie’s older brother, Forrest Pennington. Jack had adopted the child, and no one knew who the real father was. I still got confused trying to untangle all the threads in that skein.
    “Jenny is wonderful. She recently moved to Berlin so she could be near Helen and Samantha. I must admit, I find it very comforting to have her there.”
    I curled up in an oversized chair and tried to focus on the stories the octogenarian was relating. The seniors, including Martin, seemed mesmerized.
    “So you hid on the train?” Frank’s voice held admiration and incredulity.
    Jack nodded, a faraway look in his eyes. “At one of the stops, I managed to slip off. I found the underground unit I was searching for and told them about the trainload of Jews being transported. I hoped they’d be able to do something, and they did their best. They managed to get the train stopped, killing most of the SS guards. The prisoners were all freed and scattered to the nearby woods.” He paused, and pain clouded his eyes. “We later heard they’d all been rounded up and sent to the camp on the next train.”
    “Did any of them survive?” My voice sounded strange, and I shivered, wrapping my arms around my shoulders.
    “From the information we received, everyone was sent to the gas chambers.” He spoke quietly, and I wondered how he could tell such a story with no emotion. Then I saw his eyes and inhaled sharply. Oh yes, he felt emotion. Grief lay deep in those piercing eyes.
    But if he was grieving, that knocked down my suspicions that he’d swindled wealthy European Jews of their property. Unless, of course, he’d come to regret it later. A wave of
déjà vu
washed over me, and I knew why. I’d been around this circle of thoughts before, the last time Jack Riley was here. I was determined, this time, to resolve the issue.

CHAPTERSEVEN
    M iss Jane’s black monster careened wildly around the sharp curves while I held tightly to the seat on the passenger side. I should’ve had my head examined. Why in the world had I agreed to let her drive to Caffee Springs?
    “Jane! Please be careful.” The terrified screech from the backseat was evidence enough that Miss Georgina felt the same.
    “I’m being careful. Don’t be such a scaredy-cat, Georgina.”
    Since the weather had warmed back up the last few days, we’d decided to drive over and try the new tearoom for lunch today. We all needed to get away from the constant reminder of the two-week-old murder.
    The tires squealed as Miss Jane pulled into the sparse parking area at the side of the tearoom. We got out on wobbly legs. That is, mine. Miss Georgina’s were wobbly, too. Miss Jane’s confidence in her driving skills never ceased to amaze