The Cereal Murders by Diane Mott Davidson Page A

really need their college counseling. She has her pick of schools."
     
     
"Oh, ah, really? Well. I'm glad you enjoyed the dinner. Actually, it was very successful until the end."
     
     
They both looked astonished. Was it possible someone had not heard? Quickly, I explained about finding Keith Andrews. I prayed silently that the police did not arrive to ask their questions during the Bronco game today.
     
     
"My God," exclaimed Hank Dawson. I think he had just swallowed his eighth slice. He turned to his wife.
     
     
"Remember what Greer said after the state volleyball championships?"
     
     
Caroline took another bite. Then she smiled primly. "I think I was too excited to notice."
     
     
Eagerly, Hank turned back to me to explain. "Of course you know our daughter is responsible for the Elk Park Prep volleyball team being state champions."
     
     
"My heartfelt congratulations."
     
     
Hank narrowed one eye skeptically. "Anyway, after the final game, Greer did mention to us this rumor that Keith Andrews was having trouble with drugs...."
     
     
I said, "Excuse me?" and momentarily lost my grip on the plum cake platter just as Caroline reached for the last slice, approximately her tenth. "Drugs? Keith Andrews didn't seem like the type."
     
     
Hank shrugged, world-wise. "The kind that seems the type rarely is. You know, Goldy, that's been true for the team too." We shook our heads together over the unspoken name of a former Bronco tight end. He had tested positive for cocaine three times in the last year, and had been banned from pro football. An All-Pro player too. At the time, Hank and I had agreed that the state flag should have been flown at half mast. "Take the headmaster's son, Macguire," Hank said after our moment of silence. "He looks innocent as can be, but I understand that kid's had quite a history with substance abuse."
     
     
"Substance abuse?" Marla sidled up to us with a tray. "What a nice shade of red, Caroline. It suits you."
     
     
"I can tell you where I got it if you'd like, Marla."
     
     
Caroline and Hank reached simultaneously for cupcakes from Marla's tray.
     
     
"Oh," trilled Marla. "I don't think I need shopping advice - "
     
     
"Mrs. Dawson," I interjected briskly. "do you like this cake enough to sell it in your caf‚?"
     
     
Caroline puckered her lips and closed her eyes. For an instant, she looked like one of those little Chinese demons who brings you nothing but rotten luck. "Not really," she murmured. "Sorry, Goldy. We do appreciate what you're doing for Greer, though. We'll see you in a couple of hours." And off she and her square husband plodded, licking the last cupcake crumbs off their fingers as they departed.
     
     
"Was that a rejection?" I asked Marla.
     
     
"No, no, my dear, the royal short people have cleaned the trays. Now they need to talk to some other Episcopalians who've come back from the Holy Land." I did not remember the overdressed couple the Dawsons were now chatting with as being particularly religious. Marla said, "You know, Goldy. England." Under her breath, she added, "My question is, if she didn't like it, why'd she have so many pieces?"
     
     
I certainly did not know. I checked on the serving table, where Audrey had deftly kept the platters refilled. Across the room, Arch caught my eye. He was standing with the tall, skinny Marenskys, who were avoiding either me or the food or both. Stan and Rhoda Marensky were the kind of people caterers dislike most: They pick at their food, don't finish it, and then complain about how expensive it is. At that moment Stan was interrogating Arch, who shot me an imploring look that meant: Can we go? I held up my hand: Five minue's. Then I motioned him over. The Marenskys turned their backs.
     
     
"Has the headmaster's son been in trouble?" I demanded softly when Arch was by my side.
     
     
Arch pushed his glasses up on his nose. A bit of cheese hung on the corner of his mouth. I pinched a paper napkin and