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live to enjoy it for long,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee.
    “Yes, it was a shame,” Dory Browne replied, narrowing her piercing blue eyes at me as if I’d just said something original. “I think you might find the bungalow a little more cheerful …”
    Dory was interrupted in her sales pitch by the appearance of Diana with a plate of French toast smothered in blueberry preserves, a bowl of fresh strawberries, and a basket of assorted muffins and scones. I was accustomed to having half a toasted bagel for breakfast but my run had made me hungry. I took a bite of the French toast and found that it was so tender it nearly melted in my mouth.
    “I was just telling Callie that she might find old Mrs. Ramsay’s bungalow cozier than Honeysuckle House,” Dory said to Diana, who had sat down at the table with us. “Those big old Victorians are hard to keep warm in the winter and some people find all those woods in the back gloomy.”
    “I thought the woods in the back were beautiful,” I said between mouthfuls of French toast. “I found a thicket of honeysuckle shrubs. I guess they must have spread from the house.”
    “You made it as far as the thicket?” Diana asked, sounding as surprised as if I’d told her that I’d run all the way to New York City. “Most people don’t get that far.”
    I glanced up from my plate and caught the two women exchanging a meaningful look. Something clearly bothered them about my foray into the forest. “Are the woods privately owned?” I asked. “I didn’t see any private property signs. Was I trespassing?”
    “The woods belong to the LaMotte estate, but they’ve always been open to the whole village,” Dory answered. “It’s just that the thicket is so overgrown.”
    “Yes, I noticed. It’s so dense that a bird had gotten stuck in the underbrush. I helped it out.”
    I was expecting exclamations of surprise and approbation from Diana—who greeted practically every word out of my mouth with cheerful approval and who had such an outstanding collection of ceramic woodland creatures that I figured she must have a soft spot for all wildlife—but instead my announcement was met with silence. Diana had gone pale beneath her freckles and her brown eyes were fixed on Dory’s wide blue ones.
    “You rescued a bird from the honeysuckle thicket,” Dory said slowly and deliberately.
    “I guess you could say I rescued it. I suppose it would have gotten out eventually.”
    “Not once it was trapped in the thicket,” Diana said, shaking her head. “The creatures that stray there generally die there.”
    I recalled the little bones that fell out of the nest and shuddered. “How awful! Can’t someone clear it?”
    “It would just grow back,” Dory said. “But you can see why the spot isn’t so popular. Mrs. Ramsay’s bungalow, on the other hand, faces a lovely park …”
    “I want to see Honeysuckle House,” I said, putting my napkin on the table. I had polished off the whole plate of French toast and a pumpkin scone as well. “Besides, you’ve already gone to the trouble of opening all the windows.”
    Dory Browne stared at me. “What are you talking about?” she asked. “I didn’t open any windows.”
    Diana and Dory were up and heading out of the house before I could rise from the table. I really was sore now and I could only move slowly. By the time I got outside the two women were already across the street at the edge of the hedge, staring up at the house.
    “Is everything okay?” I asked. They were looking at the house as if it were on fire.
    “Oh yes,” Dory answered. “I forgot that I told my handyman, Brock, to come over earlier to air the place out. Diana?” She turned deliberately to the other woman and spoke slowly. “Perhaps you’d do me a favor and make that phone call we talked about earlier.”
    “Are you sure you don’t want me to go inside with you?” she asked.
    “No, we’ll be fine. Apparently the house wants to be shown.”