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that’s all. Sorry—I hate to speak ill of the dead, especially someone who’s not even cold in his grave yet—”
    “Not even in his grave yet,” Rob put in. “Probably just down at the morgue.”
    “But if you want the honest truth,” Caroline went on, “he was a letch.”
    “So it wouldn’t surprise you to know that two of the Corsican volunteers are carrying on a dueling widow act?” I asked.
    The three of them looked at me and blinked.
    “Good Lord,” Caroline said. “Which two?”
    “I bet Vivian is one of them,” Clarence said.
    “That’s just a rumor,” Rob said. “I don’t actually believe it.”
    “I do,” Clarence said.
    “Is Vivian a tall, willowy redhead?” I asked.
    “Yes,” Clarence said. “Vivian Forrest. She’s a nurse at Caerphilly hospital. They met when Parker got badly bitten by a dog he was rescuing.”
    “That doesn’t mean she was seeing him,” Rob said.
    Clarence glanced over at me, rolled his eyes, and shrugged. Yes, I got it. Apparently Rob was also interested in the attractive Vivian. Thank goodness he was alibied for the time of the murder.
    “Well, she’s not going to be seeing him anymore, is she?” Caroline said. “Who’s the other one?”
    “Petite blonde, not as elegantly dressed as Vivian,” I said.
    They all looked blank.
    “Beats me,” Caroline said. “Rob, go check it out.”
    I went back out into the main barn. Rob followed me, and I pointed out the two women.
    “Yes, that’s Vivian.” He shook his head as if only now detecting some profound character flaw in the lovely redhead. “And the other one? Good grief! Louise Dietz? Who’d have guessed her?”
    “What does Louise do when she’s not volunteering for CORSICA?” I asked.
    “Works down at the courthouse as an administrative assistant.” He glanced around to see if anyone was within earshot and lowered his voice. “She’s kind of like our mole inside the mayor’s office. Parker recruited her—but I hadn’t realized before just how. Damn! I need my video camera for this.”
    He shook his head as he went back into my office. Clearly the late Parker’s romantic triumphs had earned Rob’s respect—and possibility his resentment. I continued to watch Vivian and Louise.
    They had completely opposite notions of how to carry off their self-appointed roles of chief mourner.
    Vivian was dressed entirely in black and gray, and her tailored black wool pants were certainly not what I would have put on for tending dozens of animals. She was impeccably groomed and made-up. She strode about with her head held bravely high, looking quite dignified when she wasn’t tripping over the furniture or the animals. Occasionally she would sweep up one of the animals, sigh, and clutch it to her chest, as if its presence brought back bittersweet memories of Parker. The abundance of animal hair of every conceivable color on her black mohair sweater seemed to indicate she’d been clutching quite a lot of animals. But clearly not a single tear was going to be allowed to sully the perfection of her makeup. I hadn’t yet spotted her doing anything useful, like feeding, walking, or cleaning up after the animals, but perhaps making the animals feel wanted was also an important task.
    I liked Louise’s style better. She was wearing ragged jeans and a faded sweatshirt, and didn’t appear to have combed her hair before she came over. She was a lot more efficient with the animals in spite of the fact that tears were running down her cheeks all the while. Never more than one or two tears at a time, which gave the impression that instead of actively sobbing she was bravely holding her sorrow in check, making what we saw merely the accidental spillover from a vast reservoir of tears. It certainly made you want to avoid upsetting her.
    Which was probably why she was doing one of the prime jobs: feeding baby animals. She looked like a modern-day Pietà, bending dolefully over each kitten or puppy in her lap.