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with her all these years. Maybe he really did love her. Seemed doubtful, though.
    Had he meant for me to find Brown-Eyed Girl? Was I supposed to relay his message to her? He’d said Edith must never know. That made sense. Whether it was Edith whom he had always loved or not, he probably didn’t want her to realize he’d been in love with someone else.
    I set figures of an older couple in the village. Maybe Brown-Eyed Girl felt the same way and longed to see him. What if he died from the stab wound? They would have missed their chance to see each other one last time. I cupped my forehead in my hand. Why hadn’t I realized this sooner? I had to find Brown-Eyed Girl. But Edith must never know. Aargh. This wouldn’t be easy.

    I phoned the hospital before I went to bed, but they wouldn’t give me any information about Horace. During the night, I tossed and turned, imagining Moondoggie and his Brown-Eyed Girl. How would I ever find her? There were millions of brown-eyed women around Horace’s age.
    The sun shone in the morning, giving me fresh hope. Still dressed in my flannel nightshirt, I stumbled down the stairs, put on the kettle, and immediately placed a phone call to Wong, who confirmed that Horace had survived the night but remained in critical condition. I cracked the window to let in a little fresh air, then stirred sugar and milk into my morning tea.
    Nina tapped on the window of my kitchen door. She had dashed across the street wrapped in a fluffy lavender robe. I had barely opened the door when she demanded, “It’s Horace, isn’t it?”
    I played coy for just a moment longer in case she meant something else. “What is?”
    “Moondoggie. Horace is Moondoggie. It came to me in the middle of the night. You worked on his party yesterday. No one at the party would just hand you that note to carry around. No, no, no. It was Horace!”
    She beamed at me and poured herself a mug of tea. “We have to go see him. I wonder if he can speak.”
    I gazed down at her feet and giggled. “What are those?”
    “Christmas slippers. They’re reindeer heads. Aren’t they fun?”
    Outside someone screamed in terror.

CHAPTER FOUR
    Dear Sophie,
    My son will be on leave from the military for Christmas, so my husband wants to decorate the house from top to bottom. I’m scared of the electric bill. Which lights use the least electricity?
    Proud Mom in Lightsville, Ohio
    Dear Proud Mom,
    Solar lights don’t use any electricity but will cost more to buy. There are also battery-operated lights, some of which operate on built-in timers! If Hubby really wants to go overboard with electric lights, LED lights are your best bet.
    Sophie
    If I hadn’t cracked a window earlier to let in some cool winter air, we might not have heard the scream at all. Mochie jumped onto the banquette and peered out the picture window.
    Nina and I rushed to the front door to look outside. A few houses down, I thought I saw something in the bushes. I grabbed a coat, and the two of us dodged traffic to cross the street. We ran like clowns in our slippers, the bells on Nina’s jingling all the way.
    Baxter Babineaux appeared to be stuck on his back in the grip of boxwood bushes. He called his wife’s name feebly. “Gwen? Help! Gwen?”
    A ladder pinned him down and strands of Christmas lights draped over him like a colorful web. “Are you okay?” I asked as Nina and I wrestled the ungainly wooden ladder to the ground.
    “Sophie! Nina! I was afraid my family wouldn’t hear me.”
    I wasn’t surprised. Trendy teen music blared right through the walls of their elegant historic town house.
    He tried to disengage himself from the strings of lights but only succeeded in creating bigger knots as they caught on one another.
    I did my best to lift them straight up, but they had twisted around his legs and torso. “Can you hold on to me? Let’s get you out of the bushes first, then we’ll tackle the lights.”
    I wedged my hands under his arms and pulled.