“Lois,” she said, sticking her head into the church office, “I’ve lost the vestry.”

The church secretary tilted her head, allowing her razor-cut strawberry blond bob to swing just so, against her jaw. “And this is a bad thing… how?”

“Lois.”

“They’re in the church. Taking a look at the indoor waterworks.”

“Everybody here?”

“Even the newbie. Let’s hope they don’t chew him up and spit him out.”

Clare glanced over at the pink message slips accumulating on a lethally sharp spike. “Anything urgent?”

“Yes. You had a call from Hugh Parteger.” Lois’s British accent was devastatingly accurate. “ ‘Lois, love, tell the vicar to give me a call sometime soon. She can’t spend all her time in prayer and good works. She has to be naughty sometimes.’ ” Lois looked at her significantly.

Clare laughed. “He’s really a very nice guy.” She had met Hugh last year while he was summering in Saratoga. Since he worked for a merchant bank in New York City, they had developed a very long distance relationship, which suited her just fine. She had seen him three or four times since August, and spoke with him every other week or so.

“He’s got money, manners, and he actually calls you. Of course he’s a nice guy,” Lois said. “Are you going to get back to him?” She nudged the phone toward Clare.

“Eventually,” Clare said. “Right now, the most important man in my life is the structural engineer. Where did I leave that copy of the estimate the vestry got a few years back?”

“Here.” Lois slid a folder across her desk. “Don’t wait too long on Hugh. Sooner or later, you, like the roof, will start sagging and leaking. You have to nail a man down before then, if you want one.”