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noble goal, although her guests will be dressed in animal costumes, which will probably look silly. On some of them, anyway."
    " Animal costumes!" Ma cried. "Whatever for?"
    "Good question," muttered Sam.
    "I suspect because the party is being held as a benefit for the Pasadena Humane Society, and the Humane Society cares for dogs and cats that need help. I read in the Star News a couple of weeks ago that they've even taken in desert tortoises and a goat once and a couple of sheep and a parrot." I eyed Sam speculatively. "If Mrs. P invites you, you ought to come in an ape costume."
    "Thanks," grumbled Sam.
    "Maybe someone will show up in a skunk costume," said Pa.
    "Joe!" said my mother, giving him the evil eye instead of giving it to me for once.
    "It'll be interesting to see the costumes, at all odds. I'm looking forward to it."
    "And you'll do what? Read tarot cards?" asked Vi. "Mrs. Pinkerton admires you so much, I'm surprised she asked you to work at such a... I don't know. It just sounds undignified to me."
    "Well, at least I won't be the only one who looks undignified. Heck, I get to dress up as a human being anyway. I always dress as a Gypsy for these sorts of things. Mrs. P isn't the only one who asks me to perform at charity events."
    "Why don't you have to dress as a hippo or an elephant or something?" asked Sam.
    "Because I will be manning—or womanning, I suppose—the fortune-telling tent." I shot him a good glare. "And don't you dare tell me fortune-telling is illegal, Sam Rotondo. This is for a good cause, and I won't be making money telling fortunes."
    "But you'll be making money," he said.
    I squinted at him from across the table. "Mrs. Pinkerton will be paying me to play a role, Sam Rotondo. I've never told fortunes!"
    He had the gall to laugh at me!
    "I just love to wind you up and watch you tear into me," he said.
    Everyone laughed. Except me. Blasted man. And he wanted me to marry him? Well, we'd just see about that.

Chapter 4

    Mrs. Franbold's funeral was scheduled for Friday at ten a.m. at Morningside Cemetery. Pastor Smith told us choir members that Mrs. Franbold's family didn't want a big, fancy funeral service at the church, but rather a more sedate service at the cemetery itself. We choir members practiced the hymn, "Abide with Me," to sing at the gravesite. Nice hymn, if kind of boring. Don't tell anyone I said that, please.
    The timing was all right by me, although it meant neither Ma nor Aunt Vi could attend, since they both had to work during the day. I drove Pa in our Chevrolet, and wasn't surprised to see Sam's big, black Hudson parked near the gravesite. When he saw me parking the auto, he walked over to open my door for me. He let Pa fend for himself.
    "You here in an official capacity?" I asked, hoping to get the scoop about whether or not Mrs. Franbold had been poisoned.
    "Sort of," he said.
    "Very informative," I muttered as I straightened my skirt and prepared to walk to the gravesite, which was conspicuous because a blue tent had been erected over it, although I didn't know long it would last, as a fierce wind howled that cold January day.
    "Don't pick on Sam," my father said with a chuckle. "He was there when the poor woman died, don't forget."
    "Yes, and it wasn't pleasant," said Sam.
    I peered up at him, squinting because the sun shone brightly that day in spite of the frigid wind. "I thought you were used to dead people by this time."
    "I'm not accustomed to people dropping dead at my feet," he said, sounding grumpy.
    "She didn't drop dead at your feet. She dropped dead at Mr. Underhill's feet, and he didn't even have the grace to catch her, but let her fall, plunk, right onto the floor. You had to walk clear across the sanctuary to get to her body."
    "Yeah, well, Doc Benjamin and I are about the only two in that congregation who know what to do when a person collapses like that."
    "Hmm. I guess so. So that's why you're here, right? To scope out the crowd and decided who did her