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all the same these days. The European Union, you know. And travel is such a hassle.” She narrowed her eyes at Judith after taking another swig of bourbon. “Why didn’t you and Joe attend the wedding?”
    â€œWe couldn’t afford it,” Judith admitted. “We’d spent a couple of weeks in Scotland last March.”
    â€œScotland!” Vivian shook her head in dismay. “How awfully dreary for you! All those bagpipes and whistles. Or do I mean thistles?”
    â€œWe actually had a good time,” Judith said. “Bill and Renie went with us. The men fished most of the time, and Renie and I…managed to keep busy.” It was best, Judith decided, not to mention the dead bodies they’d encountered at the castle inthe Highlands. “How do you think Billy is going to like living here?”
    â€œWe’ll see,” Herself said with a hardening of her jaw. “I promised him a yacht.”
    â€œWhy couldn’t he have a yacht in Florida?” Judith asked innocently.
    â€œThe gulf can be dangerous,” Vivian replied, polishing off her drink. “Sailing is much safer around here.”
    Judith couldn’t argue. “That’s very generous of you.”
    Vivian shrugged. “Potsy was a very generous man.”
    â€œPotsy?” Judith said, puzzled. “You mean Billy’s father?”
    Herself nodded but didn’t say anything until after Feroze had brought her second double, along with a bread basket. “Potsy had piles of money, and despite his youthful…generosity when it came to the ladies, he was rather tightfisted as he grew older,” she finally explained. “The money mostly came from a huge Oklahoma cattle ranch.”
    â€œI see,” Judith said, not sure that she really did. “Then Billy could buy his own yacht.”
    Herself swallowed more bourbon. “No, no. He didn’t inherit.” She giggled slyly. “Potsy left everything to me.”
    Judith couldn’t conceal her surprise. “You mean because Potsy lived with you and Billy before he passed away?”
    Again, Vivian had to wait as Feroze brought Judith’s food. The enticingly pungent odor of curry always evoked memories of Grandma Grover’s mutton dinners as well as Judith’s first trip to San Francisco’s India House. “Wonderful,” she said to Feroze. “The stir-fry vegetables look terrific, too.”
    The owner made another little bow. “It will delight your taste buds, Mrs. Flynn.” He turned to Vivian. “Have you decided, madam?”
    She pointed to her glass. “One more.”
    Feroze hesitated. “Along with perhaps an appetizer?”
    Vivian shook her head. “Later, maybe.” She sipped bourbon and softly hummed a few bars of “My Heart Belongs to Daddy.”
    â€œPotsy?” Judith reminded her companion. “Gratitude? Money?”
    â€œOh.” Herself’s eyes weren’t quite focused. “Yes. All of it.”
    â€œAll of…?” Judith let the words dangle as she tasted a tiger prawn.
    â€œOf course Potsy left me all his wealth,” Vivian finally said, sounding a little defensive. “Why shouldn’t he? I was his wife.”
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    S o,” Judith said to Renie over the phone three hours later, “I couldn’t do anything else except leave Herself at Taj Raj. She never did order lunch. I almost expected her to climb up on the table and burst into a torch song. I’ve no idea how she got home. If she got home.”
    â€œI forgive you,” Renie said. “I should’ve known she’d screw you over. She always does. But let me get this straight—she married this rich old coot, he died ten months later, and then she married his son, Billy, less than a year after Potsy popped off.”
    â€œThat’s the gist of it,” Judith replied. “Billy and his brother, Frankie, didn’t get a