Was there some deep dark secret that would jeopardize Bettina’s upcoming marriage to Birch if he found out? She had a motive to kill Harriet, but why Sophie, too? Unless Sophie had some incriminating evidence against her. But would a person really commit murder over an unflattering photo?
Ridiculous, Daisy. Have some more wine.
Caroline came back with the tiny dog in her arms. “I am so not speaking to Ginny Axelrod,” she declared. “You know how hard it is to find good cleaning people? She just stole the woman who works for my good friend Rachel.”
She sat cross-legged on the blanket, balancing the wriggling dog and her glass of wine. “My husband likes my girl—too much so for my liking. He says he’s not attracted to her, just her laid-back personality. But I’m keeping Angel. She’s the best I’ve ever had, and no one’s going to steal her from me.” She gave a derisive nod in the direction of the other clump of wine club participants. “So, too bad, people!”
Ruthie leaned closer to me. “There’s always a battle going on to find the best, and they all poach from each other.”
“The one I had before Angel?” Caroline continued. “Ohmigawd, if I told the woman once, I told her a thousand times. Put the forks in the dishwasher with the tines up and the knives pointing down! How hard is that to remember, I ask you? She never stacked the dishes right, either. She’d put plastic on the bottom, shove pots and pans in there, she did everything wrong. It drove me crazy.”
“Cheese and crackers,” Ruthie muttered in my ear. “I have the same cleaning woman as Marybeth Skelton. She’s the best. I pay through the nose, but it’s worth it to keep her. Don’t tell this lot,” she whispered as Caroline commiserated with Alice Rogan about the paid help who used Tilex on travertine tiles, and were seemingly oblivious to smears on stainless steel appliances.
I zoned out a little as they talked about the correct way to fold laundry.
Would there have been any reason for Bettina to go over to Sophie’s house the night she died? Perhaps with an emergency supply of insulin? Could a patient order insulin to be delivered directly from a medical supply place, or did it have to go through her doctor? I didn’t know how that worked, but made a mental note to find out.
Alice was delivering a monologue about her four grown children and grandchildren, as if she were in charge of every aspect of their lives. I envisioned a massive whiteboard in her house dotted with multicolored Post-it notes where she kept track of it all, like a detective’s situation room in a murder investigation.
“What about The Dazzle Team, the cleaning company that Harriet Kunes used?” I asked Ruthie. “Are they good?”
“Heck, yes. They also clean the Historical Society buildings.”
Well, there was proof that they were completely trustworthy. No one would dare cross Eleanor.
“Speaking of Harriet,” I said, “did you ever hear about her sabotaging other competitors’ dollhouses? Like she did to Ardine Smalls?”
“Oh, you mean the old cockroach story?” Ruthie barked with laughter. “Not sure if that’s urban legend or not, but I heard it was the other way around.”
Was Ruthie confused? In her rosé-soaked reality, it might be tough to keep things straight.
She got up and picked up her backpack. “I’m taking the RV to Florida in the morning. Max and I will be there all winter.”
I grinned as I got up and helped her fold the blanket. I hoped I had half her spunk when I reached her age. “Have a good time. Drive safely. See you in the spring?”
“If you’re lucky.” She winked at me. “I don’t buy any green bananas these days.”