Sugarplum Dead by Carolyn Hart Page B

embarrassment was on Annie’s behalf. A delicate sigh. “But we all do what we can do. I’m sure you mean well.”
    â€œLaurel.” Annie looked deep into those eyes, searching for even a hint of humor. Laurel had evidenced other odd enthusiasms through the years, wedding customs and saints and ghosts and Shakespeare, but she had not sought counsel from the dead. Especially not financial counsel.
    Laurel’s eyes met Annie’s, her gaze kindly, interested and utterly serious. She clasped her hands to her heart. “Annie, you will excuse me, I know, but I feel compelled to continue my quest. I know that if I can talk to Buddy, everything will be all right.” Her lower lip trembled. “You see, I have felt quite frightened and it came to me—things do, you know—that everything would be all right if only I could talk to Buddy.”
    Laurel frightened! Annie couldn’t have been more shocked had Go-Dog suddenly materialized beside them. She stared at her mother-in-law and saw uncertainty and despair in her eyes and bowed shoulders in the elegant jacket and an aura of frailness and confusion.
    Laurel pressed one hand to her lips, then she looked past Annie.
    It was painful to Annie to see the effort it took for Laurel to lift her face and manage a smile.
    But Laurel was almost her old insouciant self when she called out, “Gertrude, what a pleasure to see you.” Laurel clapped her hands together. “Why, Annie, look who’s here! It’s Gertrude.”
    Annie looked over her shoulder.
    Gertrude Parker’s long, horsey face sported a strainedsmile and she had the decency to avert her eyes from Annie.
    Annie stared at her frostily. Clearly Gertrude had crept up to hear Laurel’s soliloquy, intending to bring an eyewitness report to as many islanders as she could reach by phone and E-mail before the ten o’clock news.
    â€œHello, Laurel, Annie.” Gertrude’s voice was a high whinny. Her eyes glistened with interest. She came even with Annie, stepped past to look avidly at Go-Dog’s grave.
    Laurel gazed around the clearing. “Isn’t this cheerful! So many of us converging right here!” Laurel looked beyond Gertrude and Annie toward the pines. “Are you with Gertrude?” Then she blinked. “Oh my. Oh, Annie.”
    Annie didn’t look around again. She knew who stood behind her. Worry about Laurel was swept away by a furious spurt of anger. How dare he follow her! And wouldn’t this be a choice item for Gertrude’s gossip mill? What would she emphasize, Laurel’s tête-à-têtes with Johnny Go-Dog Davis or the intriguing appearance of Annie Laurance Darling’s father? Annie could imagine Gertrude’s unctuous tone: Well, my dear, I am not one to gossip, but I was out tending to some graves, oh you know, I just feel it is my duty at Christmastime, and I happened to overhear Laurel Roethke, you know, she’s Max Darling’s mother, and she was talking, that’s the only way I can put it, she was simply having a conversation with Go-Dog Davis. And to cap it off, here came Annie Darling and she looked like she was worried to death. (A little giggle.) And then, you won’t believe this, but this man came up behind us…
    Annie was damned if she was going to give Gertrude anything to crow about. She said briskly, “Laurel, my”—it took enormous effort—“father’s visiting and, of course, he’s eager to meet you.”
    Annie had to hand it to Laurel. No one would imagine there was anything peculiar either in the circumstances of this meeting or in the locale. Laurel bestowed a charming smile on Pudge Laurance. “Such a pleasure. We have so much in common, don’t we? Our dear children have truly made a love match and isn’t that simply the greatest achievement of all?” As Laurel burbled, she somehow maneuvered Gertrude—surely she