I think Jay was out on the lawn, scraping up vomit, or maybe he was rooting through the garbage looking for the container the poison was brought in. The search of our effects had been thorough. So far no vial of suspicious liquid had appeared. So Jay was destined to grub. I was outside loading our junk into the Blazer. Dennis parked the green truck with his usual deliberation and got out, shutting the door neatly. "Hi, Lark." "Hi. You took your time." "I finished breakfast. Ginger says to tell you she'll hold the fort." "She won't have to. I'm going home in about fifteen minutes." "Is it true old Llewellyn's dead?" His air of calm annoyed me. "He was murdered, Dennis." His jaw dropped. "Geez, no kidding?" I stared into Dennis's eyes. They were as startled as a deer's. "Jay didn't tell you?" "He said Llewellyn took sick last night, that you tried CPR and it didn't work." Dennis's Adam's apple bobbed. "He said my mother was pretty upset. That's all. Murder?" I explained.
