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gardeners. Carlotta whispers it around that I have gotten away with murder, and—presto—a suspicious death crops up.
    Carlotta herself stood at one side, her expression an interesting mix of horror and avid speculation. When she saw me watching her, that malicious smile appeared. Perhaps it was one of these nervous reactions people get in moments of stress. Whatever, it drove me far enough out of my self-control to speak.
    “There’s nothing funny about this, Carlotta.”
    Her head and shoulders pulled back, her eyes widened in surprise. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, her voice huffy.
    A couple of people stepped farther away, as if to leave us in the ring together.
    Our voices seemed to bring Lois out of a trance. She began tugging at Rita’s foot. “Get her out of here,” she cried, her voice growing shrill. “Get her out of my plot!”
    I reached along the well-mulched path, grabbing for Lois’s arm. “You shouldn’t touch the body.” I looked around at the circle of shocked faces. “She is dead, I presume? Did someone check?”
    A tall black man, holding himself a little aloof, raised his hand. “I’m a doctor. I heard the commotion and came over, thinking there was an accident. I couldn’t find a pulse, so I left the area untouched.”
    “I’ve called 911,” a woman at one side of the crowd volunteered. She held her cell phone to her ear. “The police and paramedics are on their way.”
    “Lois is going to be in trouble if she doesn’t get out of there.” I didn’t care if Lois got in trouble or not, but I felt compassion for Bruno Morales, Drake’s partner in homicide investigations. Palo Alto has few homicides, so the two of them mostly work on other cases. This would turn up on Bruno’s plate, and with Drake out of town, he would be swamped.
    “She’s not the only one,” Carlotta muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear.
    That did it. “As Lois has informed all of you,” I said, “I have been involved in a murder investigation.” A few people gasped. Carlotta narrowed her eyes, sensing that I would steal her thunder. “I wasn’t convicted or even charged with that crime. In fact, Carlotta herself was a suspect in it. Due to that experience, we both know to tell you to keep clear of the area around the victim. Stay in the garden; if the police find out you were here and left before they arrived, they’ll draw their own conclusions. And tell them everything you know or saw. Their job is sorting through stuff till they get to the truth. If you don’t tell them everything, you could make it difficult for both you and them later.”
    The circle of gardeners backed obediently away from Lois’s plot. Most of them stayed on the paths, too, although the fava beans in a nearby plot had been severely trampled. The doctor went to Lois, helping her up and leading her away.
    “It’s sacrilege, that’s what,” Lois sniffled. The doctor patted her arm, making soothing sounds. “My poor Sidney! Whatever would he think? They have to get her out of there. She’s ruining everything!”
    I found that little snippet of conversation puzzling. But the police and paramedics arrived just then, heralded by sirens, and we all had enough to look at while they conferred over Rita’s body, secured the scene, and talked to gardeners.
    I recognized Rhea, one of the officers writing down names and addresses. She recognized me, too.
    “Liz. I didn’t know you were a community gardener.” She glanced over her shoulder at the forensics team, who had put up a perimeter around Lois’s garden, taking in big chunks of neighboring gardens and paths. The gardeners wouldn’t like that, but death has many unpleasant consequences.
    “Yeah, I’ve been gardening here for about four years now.”
    Rhea regarded me thoughtfully. “So you know a lot of background. Bruno will want to talk to you.” She grinned. “He’s going to be upset at having to share this one with the county,