“I just got hired,” she explained. She seemed startled into answering the question.

I recalled Sally Allison’s story in the paper about the county having to increase its law-enforcement budget because of increased population, which had led directly to increased crime. Okay, Detective Cathy Trumble was the result. “Where do you live?” I asked, trying to be sociable. With a mother who made a living in real estate, it was a question that was second nature.

“And you had planned this lunch date with your sisters for how long?” she asked pointedly.

Okay, we weren’t going to be best friends.

“They’re my sisters-in-law, sort of once removed,” I said for what felt like the millionth time. “We’ve been planning to go to the Uppity Women together for a month. Melinda just joined three months ago, and I’ve been a member for a about half a year.”

“And Poppy?”

“Oh, she’d gone as our guest twice. But today she was going to be inducted. Somebody had died to let her in,” I explained.

The clear eyes fixed me in their stare. I felt like I’d been caught in the headlights. “Somebody had died?” she said.

For the first time, I regretted not being questioned by Arthur. “Well, to get in Uppity Women-it’s really the Uppity Women’s Reading and Lunch Club, but everyone calls it Uppity Women-you have to fill a vacancy, because the bylaws limit membership to thirty,” I told Cathy Trumble. “You have to be nominated, and if they vote yes, you get on the list. The list is limited to five. Then when a member dies, the top person on the list replaces that member. Etheline Plummer died for me.”

“I understand,” Detective Trumble said unwillingly. She looked a little dazed.

“So when Linda Burdine Buckle died two weeks ago,” I said, “it was Poppy’s turn.” I patted at my cheeks with a soggy Kleenex.