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Ray-Bans.”
    Was it only two weeks ago that I told her not to spend so much money on sunglasses? Who listens to me? Not Bridgy, that’s for sure. “Maybe you left them in the van.”
    She glanced through the plate glass window. “Right. And Oscar is still in the parking lot.” She flew out the door.
    I was serving lemonade to the clubbies when Ophie came out of the kitchen, carrying a small bag. She looked at me. “Hope y’all don’t mind, but I helped myself to a container of
Old Man and the Sea
chowder. With some greens and tomato, it will make a nice dinner. Enjoy your meeting.”
    Ophie gave a wide good-bye arm circle to the group, but when she opened the door, she stopped dead still. She stuck her head out the door, looked back at me and barked, “Sassy, get over here.”
    I nearly knocked over a chair and ran to the door, thinking,
Please, don’t let her be having a heart attack.
    Ophie put her finger to her lips and whispered. “Listen. Is that . . . ?”
    â€œHelp me. Please. Someone, help me.”
    It was Bridgy. I pushed past Ophie and ran out the door.

Chapter Four
    The van. Bridgy said she was going to look in the van for her sunglasses, but I didn’t see her, or Oscar, for that matter. Then I heard her again. “Someone. Anyone. Please. I think he’s dead.”
    I ran to the van. Oscar was lying across the middle row of seats. Bridgy was kneeling at his side, her face soaked with tears. She looked at me and said, “He’s dead. I’m so sorry.”
    I patted my pockets but couldn’t find my phone. I heard Ophie coming behind me, her spiked heels tap-tapping on the pavement. I yelled, “Call 911,” and when I heard her gasp, I reassured, “It’s not Bridgy. It’s Oscar.”
    It didn’t take more than a glance to see that Oscar was, indeed, dead. His jaw was slack and his eyes opened and unfocused. The pallor of his skin looked ghostly. Heartattack, I thought. Then I saw the pair of scissors protruding from his neck. Oh dear Lord.
    There was nothing I could do for Oscar, so I turned my attention to Bridgy. Her sunglasses were lying on the floor. I picked them up and held out my hand. “Come on. Ophie called for help. Let’s go inside and wait.”
    Bridgy started sobbing. “We can’t leave him alone.”
    I heard the wisdom in her words. There would be an inquiry. We certainly would be questioned.
    â€œListen, you go to the café with Ophie, and I’ll wait here until the, uh, ambulance comes.” In truth I had no idea what Ophie said when she called or who would respond first, but I was hoping for an ambulance. I was positive an emergency medical technician should take a look at Bridgy, so I hoped one was on the way.
    I handed her out of the van into Ophie’s waiting arms. Of all the big ole bear hugs I’d seen Ophie give Bridgy through the years, this was the most heartfelt. Ophie stroked Bridgy’s hair and crooned, “It will all be fine, baby girl. You wait and see. Let’s get your face cleaned up and maybe a soothing cup of tea. I have some chamomile in the Treasure Trove. Let’s walk over.”
    I realized Ophie was right. The café, with the clubbies sitting in the book nook and waiting to begin a meeting, was the wrong place to bring Bridgy. I watched as Ophie loosened the hug, wrapped her arm solidly around Bridgy’s shoulders and began leading her off to the Treasure Trove.
    Bridgy looked back at me. “I don’t want to leave you alone with . . . Oscar.”
    As the sound of sirens came closer, I reassured her,“Don’t you worry. I’m going to stand outside the van. Hear those sirens? Help is on the way.”
    A white car with “SHERIFF LEE COUNTY” stenciled in green across the front and back doors pulled up beside the van. Deputy Ryan Mantoni jumped from the driver’s seat. He