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clanging at this side, the technician she had noted running the lights for Othello walked around the flat. He stopped, gave Elizabeth a cross stare, as if she had tangled in his cord on purpose, then continued winding up his cable.
    “Elizabeth, what’s going on?” Tori parted the curtains, started toward her, then with the dedication of her profession, stopped to adjust an imp’s costume that had gone askew.
    “I see what Gregg means by interactive.” Elizabeth laughed shakily as she and Tori made their way off stage. She stopped to rub her throbbing knee but insisted she was fine when her sister noticed. Upsetting Victoria was the last thing she wanted to do.
    Gregg returned with the missing file, and in a few minutes they were back at the apartment.
    Richard was there before them, waiting with the gentle smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and never failed to make Elizabeth catch her breath. And his announcement made her forget her paining knee. “Good news. Medical examiner said natural causes. The play can go on.”
    Elizabeth closed her eyes and breathed a thank you. Getting tangled in a murder investigation was the last thing she wanted.
    Gregg threw both hands to his forehead and sank into the nearest chair. “Oh, what a relief! I don’t think I slept more than ten minutes last night thinking I might have killed that woman.”
    Elizabeth looked at him with surprise. He hadn’t seemed to be giving Sally’s death a thought this afternoon.
    “And no poisoned darts in the costume.” Tori grinned. “I never did put much credence in that theory anyway.”
    “Tell us what the doctor said,” Elizabeth urged.
    “Apparently Sally’s heart just stopped. Seems she had a rheumatic condition—probably from an untreated case of strep throat as a kid. It may have been that the strain of stepping so suddenly into the starring role was just too much stress.”
    The color drained from Gregg’s naturally pale cheeks. “Wait a minute. Does that mean she was already weak and something like my holding the pillow down too hard could have been fatal—like putting a glass over a candle? Did I kill her?”
    “Oh, Gregg. . .” Tori held her hand out to him, but her voice choked before she could say more.
    Richard stepped in. “Gregg, you’re taking too much on yourself. You don’t have to carry the responsibility for everything all alone.”
    Tori slipped from the room, and Elizabeth followed her as the men continued talking. As soon as the bedroom door closed Tori flung herself into her sister’s arms. “Please help him!”
    Elizabeth moved her sister to arm’s length and shoved a tissue into her hand. “Tori, what have you gotten yourself into? What do you know about this man?”
    Tori sat on the end of her bed and dabbed at her eyes. “I don’t know anything much. Just that I love him.”
    Elizabeth dropped to the bed and put her arm around the sister she had been a mother to for almost ten years. All her objections and doubts about this admittedly attractive man rose in her mind while her heart gripped her with fear. She was far more afraid for Victoria than she was for the physically threatened Erin.

Chapter 7
    LESS THAN AN HOUR later, back in their B & B, Elizabeth gave the ends of her shiny black hair a final fillip with the brush and was admiring her softly-flared apricot skirt and pastel-flowered knit top in the mirror when the phone rang in the hall. Richard answered Mrs. Landor’s brisk knock calling him to the phone. When he returned a few minutes later Elizabeth was all ready to go to dinner and the play—even holding their tartan lap rug in her arms. But at Richard’s words she dropped the blanket on the bed and sat down beside it. “Looks like Erin was right. About half the capsules in the bottle were potassium chloride. The other half were sugar.”
    “Oh, Richard. What does that mean?” She didn’t want to accept the obvious answer.
    Richard sat beside her. “It means