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salon was about. M.J. had added comfortable chairs, small tables piled high with current magazines, and displays of handmade jewelry and purses from local artists. A small bookshelf was crammed with used paper-backs. Across from it, a bar was built into the wall with coffee, water, tea, and later in the day, wine.
    The background chatter fell away, and soft music began to fill Nell's soul and ease away the tension. A magazine slipped from her fingers.
    "Aunt Nell!"
    Nell's eyes shot open.
    Cass and Izzy stood on either side of the chair, staring down at her.
    "Are you all right?" Izzy asked.
    Nell took a breath. "I . . . I'm fine. Just dozing, I guess. What are you two doing here?" Nell pushed herself forward in the chair and tried to clear her head.
    Izzy and Cass sank onto a couch.
    "It's just seeing you like that, with your eyes closed--"
    "You've been staring at the picture in the morning paper. I'm very much alive, Izzy, dear."
    The front door opened, bringing in a gust of cold air. Birdie walked into the salon lounge and dropped her backpack to the floor. She slipped out of her puffy down coat and walked over to her friends. "Mae said I'd find you all here. 'A gathering of the minds,' she said."
    Izzy laughed. "A gathering of friends works better for me. I should be helping her open, but I wanted to be sure you were okay-- both of you. This is awful. I can't get my mind around it. Here we spent the evening discussing this woman, and now she's dead. And you two were there ."
    "We're fine, sweetie," Nell assured her. "But poor Mary isn't."
    " 'A single gunshot. No signs of struggle,' " Izzy said. "At least that's what Mae said."
    "I wonder how she knows that." The fact that Pamela hadn't struggled and seemed to simply slip down into a dead, snow-cushioned sleep had been obvious to Nell and Birdie. The snow around her was untouched. But the news story hadn't gotten into that much detail.
    "Her sister works with Esther Gibson in the police dispatch office."
    "That explains it." Esther, a thirty-year veteran of the dispatch office, always knew things before anyone else--sometimes, Ben often teased the white-haired woman, even before they happened.
    "The paper didn't say much else," Cass said. "So . . . what do you two know?"
    "Not very much," Nell said.
    "We went to the Ocean's Edge after you left last night," Cass said. "Mary was there. She and Nancy were making some final design decisions for the carriage house and had lost track of time, I guess. When she saw us, Mary was frantic--she realized she was supposed to be meeting you. She rushed out, leaving poor Nancy with a pile of papers and an unfinished bottle of wine."
    Mary had told her and Birdie as much when she arrived. The meeting with Nancy had started late, and they'd had a few glasses of wine.
    "The stars weren't lined up right," was how Mary had put it. And Nell knew what she meant. If only she'd stayed at the Ravenswood house longer, or returned sooner, then maybe. They were recriminations that even she and Birdie had felt. What if they'd left Izzy's earlier? What if?
    "Mary arrived to a driveway lined with police cars and an ambulance. At first, she thought one of us had fallen on the ice," Nell said.
    "A far better option," Birdie said.
    "Where were all the Pisanos? Were you there by yourselves?"
    Birdie nodded. "They had a predinner meeting, late afternoon. Then they headed to the Gull Tavern to celebrate the fact that they'd finished yet another annual family meeting without killing one another."
    "So they all went to the Gull . . . except for Pamela?"
    "Pamela would have considered the Gull a bit crass," Birdie said.
    " 'Dirty' was the word she used," Cass said. "I told her my brother Pete was playing, but she told me Pete wasn't her type, as if I were trying to fix her up."
    Izzy managed a small laugh. "Can you imagine sweet, hug-gable Pete with Pamela?"
    "Mary said she had other plans, though she didn't say what they were. I don't think she liked hanging