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A fter talking to Mack, Doreen realized that things were getting a little bit convoluted, but he was right. Just because the baby was related to a member of that Winters family tree, it did not mean they had anything to do with the child’s death.

However, the family would certainly need to provide some explanation as to where the child had been and who had been looking after her because a toddler should not be left alone on their own. Whatever caregiver had been involved with that child was somebody Doreen wanted to talk to. Although they were still far from finding out that information just yet, Doreen felt that they were suddenly a whole lot closer.

She also recognized that Mack was trying hard to warn her that, if Lilybeth’s death ended up being a suspicious death, Doreen would be kept out of it, as deemed a current case then. Of course that wouldn’t make her happy, yet it also gave her a lot of credibility when it came to pushing her way into Mack’s world again. So that would always make her chuckle. He might not appreciate it, but she wasn’t against it in the least.

She went back to her notes, knowing she would have to wait for test results from Elizabeth Harley. Doreen wasn’t even sure that the coroner would pass them on to her. Why would Elizabeth? She would most likely go to the captain—or whoever was involved in any pending murder investigation. As far as Doreen was concerned, this was her case, given to her by the captain. Still, she also knew it could get torn from her hands as soon as there was anything for them to act on, like a current murder investigation.

She groaned at that, just in time to get a call from Nan.

“So,” Nan began, “how are you doing?”

“I’m doing fine. Did you guys get anywhere?”

“We did and we didn’t,” she replied.

“Did anybody know the sisters, Claudia and Meredith Winters?”

“I don’t know,” she declared, with a snort, “but I do have a couple people for you to come talk to.”

“Good. I’ll just eat some lunch, and then I’ll come straight down.”

“Sounds good. I’ll go have a nap.”

“Are you okay?” Doreen asked, her tone sharper than she meant it to be.

“Of course I’m okay,” Nan stated. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Doreen winced. “No reason, it was just the way you said that.”

“I’m just tired,” she admitted. “We’ve been playing table tennis, and I am not used to running.”

“Table tennis, as in Ping-Pong?”

“Yes,” she stated crossly, “and I got beat, as in resoundingly beat. I thought I was in better shape, but all that running?… My goodness. Honestly, I thought it was on purpose. Some of these younger people in here, they just can’t let us old geezers alone. They’ve got to remind us of everything we’ve lost and how much of that is our fitness.”

“Oh goodness,” Doreen muttered. “Well, you have your nap, and I’ll talk to you as soon as you’re awake again.”

“Fine,” she grumbled, “but come on down, say, maybe around 1:30 p.m.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

And, with that, Nan disconnected.

She might have a solid reason for being tired, but still, it was enough to trigger Doreen’s anxiety over losing her grandmother, especially after having just found her again. So much goodness was in that woman and so much fun, so much loving spirit, that Doreen didn’t want to lose her at all. Of course it would happen one day. Doreen just wasn’t ready for that one day to be today.

And who was she kidding? It would never be the right day when Doreen could just say, Oh, I’m okay to lose my grandmother today . That’s not how life happens. Unfortunately for Doreen, it seemed to be very much on her mind these days, but then she was dealing with a lot. If Lilybeth’s death had triggered one thing, it was the fact that death happened when you least expected it.

Here Doreen had been, waiting to have a meeting with Lilybeth, even racing down there because she was a little concerned about Lilybeth changing her mind about the meeting. And, for the first time, Doreen wondered how panicked and how upset Lilybeth had been. Would she have done something to herself in order to avoid talking to Doreen about it? “Oh, gosh,” she moaned.

Feeling Mugs nudge her, she sat down on the kitchen floor beside him and hugged him close. That would be a terrible thing to find out. It would be awful if Lilybeth had felt so pressured to talk to Doreen that Lilybeth had hurt herself to avoid it. That thought wouldn’t ever let Doreen sleep again. She didn’t want to think that she was adding to people’s pain. She was trying to help, not to make things worse.

Of course Mack would say that sometimes, when you opened these kettles of fish, there was just no way to know who would get hurt and who would face trials and tribulations that they just couldn’t handle. And now Doreen was worrying if that’s what she had done with Lilybeth. Doreen hoped not; dear God, she hoped not. For Lilybeth to go at her time was one thing, but that didn’t mean she had been ready for somebody else to help her along the way either.

Confused, tired, and depressed, Doreen got up and made a sandwich for lunch, meanwhile figuring out something for dinner. If just for her, she couldn’t care less. And that was the problem. If for Mack, as in maybe he would come by later today, she could prepare something, even if just some pasta. She smiled at that because she absolutely adored pasta. She’d heard about a website where you could enter in selected elements of what you had in your fridge and pantry, and it would create a recipe for you, or it would find a recipe using those ingredients.

It didn’t take her long to find the website, and then she checked out her fridge. She had black olives and feta cheese. On her countertop, she had tomatoes. In her pantry, she had pasta and not a whole lot else. Yet she had olive oil—which she knew Mack used a lot of all the time—and, before she knew it, she had a recipe that looked incredibly appetizing in front of her. Wondering if she could tackle it on her own, she decided to give it a try and, with that, set up for dinner. Then she sent Mack a text. Pasta for dinner, if you can make it.

She got a thumbs-up in return and smiled because, of course, he would be happy with it. He would be happy because he wouldn’t have to cook. She really should do a whole lot more in the way of cooking, and having Mack busy like this was a good thing for her. It pushed her to try more things.

“It’s not that I’m incapable. I’m just, well,… maybe incapable,” she muttered to herself. Mugs nudged her again, and she smiled, bent down, and gave him a great big hug, only to find Goliath right there, waiting for his turn. Everybody was just so needy today. Maybe it was literally because she was too.

As soon as the wedding talk came up, all kinds of shivers would go down her back, reminding her that she really was doing this. She loved Mack and absolutely wanted to be with him, but the thought of marriage and everything she’d gone through before wasn’t something she wanted to face again. Yet Mack was nothing like Mathew. So her marriage to Mack would not be a repeat of her marriage with Mathew.

Groaning, she wondered if it was even fair to marry Mack, when she wasn’t completely healed from all that prior trauma. Did anybody ever completely heal from all that? She wasn’t so sure.