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answers soon. We need to know if that’s what the attack on Miz Mathews is all about, although it seems awfully strange that would be the reason. But I’m wondering, if the books were stolen, why? What did you write about?”
    Teensy stood up with as much flourish as a five-foot-two person could manage and started pacing again. “I’ve no idea why they would be stolen. That’s so absurd. It’s just a little—well, four hundred pages, so maybe not so little—romance and mystery. A sort of contemporary
Gone with the Wind
with all the glamour of Southern belles and the like.”
    Lizzie couldn’t help but ask, “But Miz Coldicutt, what did you do about the civil war plot?”
    Teensy stopped in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the front lawn and spread out her arms. “Why, sugar . . . sex trumps war in any plot. I just filled it with lots of hot, steamy sex.” Lizzie realized her jaw had dropped. She took a quick look at Mark, but he appeared about to burst into laughter. That wouldn’t do. Lizzie didn’t want Teensy’s feelings to be hurt.
    â€œAnd do call me Teensy, sugar. I don’t feel much like a Miz these days.”
    Lizzie nodded. “Well, I don’t see how that could make the books the target of a thief, do you?” she asked Mark.
    He cleared his throat. “No, I don’t. Are you sure you haven’t told someone’s deep, dark secret in it?”
    â€œI, sir, would not do that. I am a lady.” Teensy sounded affronted but in an instant, she burst out in mischievous laughter. “It’s all fiction, every last word of it, but I did have so much fun writing it. And doing the research.” Her eyes twinkled as she sat back down next to Lizzie.
    â€œThat doesn’t sound like the type of book someone would steal, but they must have taken the books, because they’re not here,” Lizzie said, feeling like she was stating the obvious.
    Mark shook his head. “Thank you for your help, Miz Coldicutt. I’ll see you ladies to the door now.”
    â€œIs your mama Priscilla Kearns?” Teensy asked as they were leaving. “I think I’d heard she’d married Kenny Dreyfus.”
    â€œYes, ma’am.”
    â€œHow is she doing? She used to babysit my next-door neighbor and she’d often be out in the backyard. We’d talk sometimes.”
    â€œShe’s just fine,” Mark said, his mouth twitching downward. “Thank you, again.”
    As the door shut behind them, Lizzie turned to Teensy. “You know, Molly is so delighted you’ve moved back to town. And she’s really looking forward to planning lots of events for your book.” She felt a moment’s panic, wondering if that would be such a smart thing to do after all that had happened.
    Teensy folded her hands together. “Thank you, sugar. I’m truly pleased to hear that. I missed Mopsy very much. I don’t know how much she’s told you about our younger years but we were inseparable growing up. We could finish each other’s sentences, we knew each other so well. When I left to get married, I had a harder time leaving Mopsy than anyone or anything in this town. It was my own fault that I let the years go by without any contact . . . and I truly regret that. I was hoping we could get the friendship back on track for our later years. She will be all right, won’t she?” Teensy asked, a sob escaping her lips. “I didn’t leave it too long, did I?”
    Lizzie could see the tears forming again in Teensy’s eyes. Deep down Lizzie dreaded the thought that Molly might be more injured than she’d been told but she wouldn’t let on. “Molly will be just fine. They’re taking good care of her so don’t you worry. Would you like to come over to my place and I’ll make us some sweet tea?”
    Teensy shook her head. “No,