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D oreen and her animals drove around, giving her time to think some. By the time 2:00 p.m. came, to meet the gang, she opted to drive to Rosemoor instead of going home and then walking back here. As she pulled up outside Rosemoor, a surprising amount of traffic came and went from the place. She frowned as she looked around because she never really came this way. She rarely saw the entrance to the place, not like this.

It was quite busy and really surprised her, giving her a new appreciation for the staff who worked there, trying to keep everybody safe and happy—a feat she had to admit could not be easy, at least not with her grandmother, who was a bit of an agitator in a way, but she wasn’t malicious. Nan was just busy enjoying life.

Doreen frowned as she thought about that. Nan had been living on her own successfully for a very long time so probably didn’t need someone curtailing anything now. As long as she was getting along and not causing any real trouble, it should all be good. Hopefully it would all be good.

With that thought in mind, Doreen headed to the front door with the animals, then realized it made no difference at all, so she stepped around the garden beds and walked toward Nan’s patio. As she approached, she heard a harrumph behind her. She turned to look, and a strange woman stood there, glaring at her. Doreen raised an eyebrow. “May I help you?”

“You could stop walking through the garden beds. You do realize how much everybody here puts into making this place nice,” she stated crossly.

Doreen nodded. “I didn’t step into the flower beds, but I did walk on the lawn.”

“And that crushes the grass and makes it very hard for it to look perfect.”

Doreen didn’t say anything, just smiled and nodded and tried to walk away, but the other woman wasn’t done chastising her.

“Unless you’re one of those people who think the rules don’t apply to you,” she declared, with half a sneer.

Doreen winced at that and kept on walking.

The other woman called out, “Hope you’re never in a position where you have to deal with people here,” she said. “They won’t look kindly on you over that.”

Doreen held her tongue, even as she got to her grandmother’s patio and stepped onto her grandmother’s little private area. The angry woman had followed her here.

“Oh, so this is how you get into everybody’s little special area,” she pointed out, with a sneer. “Too good for the front door, are you? Or do you realize that animals aren’t allowed, so this is how you sneak them in?”

Nan stepped out at that point, hearing something she didn’t like.

Just as Nan opened her mouth to blast the rude woman, Doreen held up her hand. “Thank you for the advice.” And, with that, she put her arm around Nan, and they both stepped into Nan’s little apartment and closed the door firmly in the other woman’s face.

Nan gasped. “Who was that horrible woman?”

“I have no idea,” Doreen said. “I think these days she’s called a Karen.”

“I don’t know any Karens,” Nan replied.

Doreen winced. “I didn’t mean that’s her actual name. I think she’s one of those people who just likes to complain. She thinks that the world belongs to her and that she’s righteous, no matter what she does.”

Nan nodded and raised an eyebrow. “ Right . So is she one of the new people you mentioned earlier would be new friends for me?”

“No, definitely not. Anyway, hopefully she’ll leave us alone now. I parked out front with the animals because I’d been down at the cemetery, so I just thought I would drive here. This run-in just tells me to reconsider that.”

“But driving here makes sense if you’re already in the car. Yet, when you’re at the house, walking here is the way to go.”

“Which is precisely why I drove here just now,” she said, with a shrug. “Anyway, it’s all good. I certainly won’t let her ruin my day.”

“You are the most amiable and the easiest to get along with woman I have ever met.” Nan stared at her. “You know it might do you some good to yell and scream at someone once in a while.”

“Really?” Doreen asked. “I can’t imagine what that would do besides freak out my poor animals.”

At that, Nan crouched to give Mugs the greeting he’d been waggling all around her for and hoping to get. As soon as he got a good greeting, he waddled over toward the food she always kept there for him. “Oh, dear,” Nan muttered, “he is getting a little…” She cupped her hands over her mouth and looked at Doreen.

“I know.” Doreen sighed. “He’s getting a little chunky.”

Nan giggled. “A little,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I’ll put it down to the fact that we can’t do very many long walks because of the weather.”

“Oh, that’s a good excuse,” Nan replied.

Doreen groaned. “But it does sound like an excuse, doesn’t it?”

“Of course it does, but that’s okay. It’s just that… Okay. We love Mugs just the way he is.”

“Sure, but it’s not healthy for him to be this way,” she noted. “So loving him isn’t enough if I’m not doing the right thing by him.” Worriedly, she looked down at the very contented animal, who was once again checking out the kitchen, the food bowls, and the table. “He really does like his groceries though.”

Nan giggled. “He’s male.”

Doreen rolled her eyes. “And yet we know all males aren’t the same,” she pointed out.

“Of course not, but, if you want to go by Richie and his propensity for bringing treats,” she explained, “you know he and Mugs are a good match.”

Just then the door opened and in stepped Richie. He held a paper bag in one hand and his cane in the other, as he precariously tried to turn and close the door.

“I’ve got it,” Doreen offered, as she raced forward to close it for him.

He beamed at her. “You’re such a sweet girl. Too bad Darren didn’t get there before Mack.”

She stared at him and shook her head. “Darren is a decade younger than I am,” she pointed out. “So, I really don’t think he would be interested.”

“Even if he was, the boy’s not very fast on the uptake,” Richie noted, with a sigh. “He’ll be single forever at this rate.”

“I wouldn’t suggest that you do any matchmaking then. It’ll just make people more upset, especially him.”

“How can he be more upset? He doesn’t seem to care about it now.”

“I’m sure he cares, but he’ll do it in his own time,” she suggested.

He just grumped at her but shot her a cheeky grin. “Mack didn’t waste any time, did he?”

She flushed. “Maybe not, though I do think he sometimes wonders if he made a decision too fast.”

“ Nah ,” Richie argued, “he’s smitten. We all can tell.”

She shook her head and quickly changed the subject. “Okay, enough of that. Let’s get down to business, since I do have the file now, such as it is.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Maisie’s frail voice came from the doorway. “I’m here. I’m here. Wait for me.” She crowded inside, telling Richie to move his fat butt.

“I’m not fat,” Richie cried out in horror.

“You should be,” Maisie stated crossly. “With the amount of food you eat, you certainly should be fat.”

Doreen, sensing a breakdown about to happen, stated, “I don’t have much time, so let’s get to the point.”

Immediately everybody turned their attention to the case at hand. Richie grabbed the closest chair, pointing Maisie to the one farthest from him, on which she sat down with a huff. Nan took the only other spare seat. “Now, tell us what you know,” Nan told Doreen.

“First off, it’s not much,” she began. “We have a dead eighteen-month-old little girl. She died approximately thirty-five years ago, give or take ten,” she added.

“Ouch,” Nan muttered. “So, what’s the story? Who found her?”

“A family in Black Mountain, while preparing their garden to plant yams.”

Immediately Richie jumped in and shared, “You know, if it was a good patch, a patch for potatoes would have been just fine for yams.” He seemed to be warming up to the subject. “We had a lovely time growing those. Not only yams but sweet potatoes too. It all depends on what varieties and whether they want to put the money into getting some of the more exotic types,” he added.

“Is a point in there?” Maisie asked.

“No, technically there’s only sweet potatoes in North America, and the yams come from Africa,” he stated.

“Oh, hush,” Nan grumbled, looking at him crossly. “Nobody here cares about growing potatoes.”

“You ought to.” He glared at her. “Growing food should be everybody’s concern.”

“That’s because you were a farmer along with being a cop,” Nan pointed out. “I just pay for the food.”

He frowned and then shrugged. “Good point. We needed people like you to pay for the food too.”

“Exactly.” Nan sighed. “Go ahead, dear, before anybody else jumps in on the wrong topic.”

Richie glared at her but settled back, reached into the bag, and pulled out a scone.

Immediately Maisie gasped. “What’s that?” she cried out. “I didn’t see any of those at lunch.”

“Nope, I went into the kitchen and got them,” he admitted, with a bright smile. “I figured I should get there before everybody else had a chance. Otherwise they would all be gone.”

“They would all be gone because you keep taking them,” Maisie cried out fretfully. “I feel as if I can’t go anywhere now without first checking to see if you’ve gotten all the treats because then I’ll lose out.”

He stared at her in astonishment. “That’s an awful lot of talking, when you could be eating,” he pointed out, passing over a scone to her.

Immediately she shut up and munched on the scone.

Doreen wasn’t sure what was going on around here with anybody today. They all seemed a bit on the cranky side.

Nan looked at her and whispered, “It’s nap time, dear.”

“Ah.” She was embarrassed, feeling inconsiderate. “You should have warned me.”

“You said this afternoon, so that’s about the only time we have.”

“Right, well, that’s a good reminder. We’ll do it differently next time.”

“Yes, I highly suggest you do,” Nan said.

“But now that we’re all here”—Richie glared at them—“and yes, it is my nap time, and I am getting cranky,” he admitted, his voice slowly raising an octave. “That doesn’t change the fact that we have things to sort out here.”

Doreen nodded. “You’re right. I get that, but I still don’t have a whole lot more for you anyway. The toddler was found in Black Mountain. The police have not brought up the records from the cold case storage area yet, but the house where the body was found has been sold and rented many times. So far the police have not located anybody who either had a baby or was pregnant in the relevant time period.”

“It’s not as if anybody would say they were pregnant,” Maisie stated, frowning at her.

“Exactly,” Doreen agreed with a nod and a quiet smile in her direction, making Maisie feel a little bit better, after all the outbursts.

“It still doesn’t change the fact that we need to find somebody who knew the family,” Richie said glumly. “We all know, when it comes to the death of a child, people don’t like to talk.”

“Yet we also know,” Doreen pointed out, “as time catches up with people, sometimes they like to talk just fine.”

He eyed her shrewdly. “That’ll be your best bet in this case.”

“It might be,” she agreed. “Still, it’ll be hard trying to find somebody who knows something but has kept it quiet all this time, or who maybe wondered about something but never brought it up.” She nodded. “If it was me, and I had killed a child, I would have moved far, far away, very quickly.”

“Sure, but, if you didn’t think you would ever get caught, or if you knew you wouldn’t get caught, or if you didn’t want to draw attention to yourself, you might not.”

She frowned at that part. “True. Maybe nobody moved at all. Plus, we can’t automatically blame one parent, as either the father or the mother may have done it.”

Richie frowned. “I really don’t like this thought, but what if the mom moved away and left the baby with the father? She may have run off with a traveling salesman or something. It was done back then, and, if the husband was abusive, maybe she took off. And maybe she took off before the baby was killed.”

“Or maybe he killed the baby and then she took off,” Maisie suggested. “If so, who knows where they could be or whether the woman even knows that her baby is dead.”

“Well, one thing I’ll tackle is the genealogy sites,” Doreen shared. “If I input the toddler’s DNA, I might get a match.” Then she frowned. “I didn’t check to see if there was any DNA available of hers to input, but, if they have the bones, I might get the captain to pull some DNA.”

“I would think that is done first thing with a dead body,” Nan stated.

“It is and it isn’t,” Doreen noted. “Remember that this case has been cold for a very long time now and that DNA testing is a newer technique.”

“But the captain gave this case to you,” Nan added, “so he must think you have some ideas.”

“I don’t know about some ideas , but I would certainly like the chance to put a name to this little girl,” Doreen stated. “It’s so sad to think of her sitting in a box all this time, completely unclaimed because of this.”

On that somber note, Richie agreed and looked at the others. “And we should start talking to everybody here.”

Nan agreed. “I was going to suggest that,” she declared, looking over at Richie, “but you wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise.”

“No,” he argued crossly. “It’s my nap time, and I’m heading there right now. We’ve been given our orders, and we are to talk to everybody, to figure out who might know something, and to tell Doreen.” And, with that, he lumbered to his feet and made his way unsteadily to the door. He turned to smile at Doreen and suggested, “Take the treats home with you. I’ve got another bag in my room.” And, with a laugh, he headed out of Nan’s apartment.

Maisie just stared at him. “He really isn’t the best at sharing, is he?” she noted fretfully.

Doreen reached into the bag, pulled out several of the treats, and handed them to her. “And he won’t know if I gave these to you to take to your room.”

Maisie looked at her in delight. “Thank you, thank you.” And she literally ran out the door with them.

Doreen sat back and looked at Nan. “How about you? Do you need to take your nap too?”

Nan chuckled. “No, child. I’ll have my nap when you leave, but watching you send everybody off is way too much fun.”

“Goodness,” Doreen muttered, “that’s not what I’m trying to do, and you know that.”

“I know,” she admitted, “but you do it without even trying, and that is a skill I admire.”

“Admire?” Doreen cried out. “How can you admire that? I’m trying to be good here, but I do feel like a referee.”

“Ah, that’s what all of us do here anyway,” Nan declared, with a wave of her hand. “Going through a second childhood and all that, people get just as cranky and just as bad-tempered and just as jealous as they did before they were living here,” she explained. “Even worse, it seems as if it gets compounded because they’re here. Good behavior goes out the window. Manners go out the window, and then you add in the fact that everybody is tired, and, well, that’s just all there is to it.”

“In that case,” Doreen muttered, “no more two o’clock meetings.”

“I can see that,” Nan said. “Honestly, I hadn’t really expected it to go quite so badly. Certainly not so quickly.”

“No, neither did I.” Doreen laughed. “The good news is,… we got through it without anyone running me out.”