“What about the regular guests? The contract workers at Magic Portal?” Bobo asked. One of them had come into Midnight Pawn the previous Saturday and tried to bargain with Bobo over an old tray. He’d been embarrassingly persistent.

“They’re still in residence, as Lenore put it,” Manfred said. “I asked her if more old people would be coming in, and she said that was out of her authority, or something like that. But the hotel’s going to stay open.”

“Very strange,” Chuy said, scratching Rasta’s head. “Two staff, plus the cook, for two guests.”

Bobo said, “What does this mean for the future, I wonder?”

Of course, none of them knew the answer to that. It was unsettling, to say the least.

The electronic chime on the door made them all turn to see who’d come in.

“Hey, everyone,” said Arthur Smith.

They were relaxed enough with the sheriff to say “Hey” back and to make room for him at their table. He eyed Olivia’s roast beef sandwich with interest.

“I came to talk to you, Manfred, and I figured you’d be over here when I couldn’t catch you at your place.” Madonna brought Arthur a glass of water and some silverware, and he asked if he could have an open-face like Olivia. Madonna nodded impassively and left.

“What about? I’m not in more trouble, I hope?” Though Manfred tried to sound confident, he knew they could all hear the uncertainty in his voice.

“The Bonnet Park cops called me. They had a few things to say about Lewis Goldthorpe.”

“Oh?” Manfred hoped Arthur didn’t notice that everyone at the table had grown silent.

“Yeah. He came in to tell them today that he’d seen three tigers here.”

“Tigers. Three.” Manfred didn’t have to struggle to sound amazed. He really was; how did Lewis believe this news would go over at any police department in America? “Ah, and why was he here, did he say that? Because I sure can’t imagine it.”

He hoped he wasn’t imagining that Arthur’s eyes were sharp and taking in his every twitch.

“He said they ate his housekeeper. Some woman named Bertha?”

“Bertha was here, too?” Manfred couldn’t manage a laugh, but he did produce a passable sneer. “Aside from three tigers and Bertha, did he mention anyone else?”

Arthur smiled, just a little. “Nope. But since the jewelry was found and you couldn’t have killed Rachel Goldthorpe, you’re no longer part of the investigation.”

“Cleared!” Manfred thumped the table. “That’s what I’ve been waiting for all along. So did they give you a hint about who did kill her?”

“Don’t know. Lewis says it was this Bertha and that she was his dad’s mistress. I don’t know if that’s so or not. And no one can find Bertha. She’s gone from home, her son doesn’t know where she is, she didn’t show up for work, and her car is nowhere to be found. Her son says he has a blood test to prove he’s the son of Morton Goldthorpe. Annelle and Roseanna, the daughters, are pretty excited about that.”

“They want another brother? Weird,” Bobo said. “Well, the important thing is that Manfred is in the clear.”

“The Bonnet Park police couldn’t have told Manfred themselves?” Olivia looked properly indignant.

“They seem a little overrun with things to do right now,” Arthur said. “What with Lewis acting crazy, an unsolved death on their hands, the missing woman, a potential new heir, and the resultant publicity. Lewis, as it turns out, has been going all over the place telling this story about the tigers, and the chief of police there says he thinks the sisters are going to try to have him committed.”

“That’s a relief,” Manfred said. “He doesn’t sound stable enough to be running around on his own.”

Arthur nodded and began to cut up his sandwich. He closed his eyes for a moment to appreciate the aroma. “This is like heaven,” he said, and put a bite in his mouth.

“Enjoy it. I’ve got to go,” Olivia said, smiling all around. She folded her paper napkin and put it on her plate, pushing back from the table and rising in one smooth movement. She reached the glass door, where she paused. After a second, she said, “Arthur. Come here. Quick.”

With a sigh, Arthur laid down his fork and joined her. “What’s up?” he asked, making it clear he was none too happy.

“The Gas N Go is being robbed,” she said, as quietly as if the robber could hear her. “That car just pulled up to the pump. The guy went in with a hoodie on. Like the guy who’s robbed all the others. In this weather, a hoodie. He didn’t start pumping any gas.”

Madonna, who’d been clearing Olivia’s plate, went straight into the kitchen and came out with baby Grady and a shotgun. “You keep this child,” she said to Joe, handing Grady over. Grady and Joe were both a little surprised. Madonna went straight for the door with the shotgun in her hand. “No one is holding my husband up,” she said simply, and she would have pushed out the door and gone over to Gas N Go if Arthur hadn’t stopped her.

“Let me take care of this,” he said. “It’s my job. If I go down, feel free to take over. I’ve called for backup.” He smiled—just a little—and left Home Cookin.

They were all gathered at the window by then, Bobo and Manfred, Fiji, Chuy and Joe and Rasta and Grady. Olivia was outside on the sidewalk, very fidgety.