“It’s not that. Shawn found this black cat named Isis.” I went on to explain about the cat, her owner and what had transpired today.

I could tell Candace was becoming more and more interested as the story went on. When I was finished she said, “You were inside the Longworth house? Oh my god. Tell me what it was like. A palace, right? Like that palace the Queen of England lives in?”

“You knew about this estate?” I said.

Her eyes sparkled with interest, and she was leaning toward me. “Everyone knows about it. But hardly anyone from Mercy has been inside. Except for Ed. And you know Ed. He’s not much for talking.”

Ed Duffy owns Ed’s Swap Shop—the business home of Mercy’s biggest and kindest hoarder. His little house-turned-into-a-store is filled with Mercy’s discards—afghans to xylophones. I filed Ed’s connection to Miss Longworth for future reference.

I said, “What’s Ed’s connection to that house?”

“I heard he knew the woman—Miss Longworth,” Candace said. “They were friends. But that’s about all I know.”

“Aside from this great tidbit about Ed—thanks for that—do you know anything else about Ritaestelle Longworth?”

“Just what goes around town, that’s all,” she said.

“That would be plenty, then. Tell me about her.”

But I was distracted by Syrah’s paw peeking out from behind the side of the sofa. Then his entire body swooped out, and he came around the couch, landing on his back. His paw was stabbing at something under the couch, and out popped a button. It slid across the hardwood, but before he could get to his prize, Chablis pounced from her hiding place behind my late husband’s leather recliner. She batted the button, and Merlot joined in the game. This would be going on for days. Nope, I wouldn’t get all my buttons back soon.

Meanwhile, Candace had been talking, and I hadn’t heard a word. “Sorry. I missed what you said.”