A Groom wirh a View

that Mrs. Crossthwait could be quietly removed before anyone else was up and about was dashed by the sirens on the ambulances and the police car that arrived a few minutes later. Iva and Marguerite came stumbling into the main room, their wigs askew. “What’s going on?“ Iva asked. “Is there a fire? Should we leave the building?“
    “No,“ Jane said, doing her best to shoo them back to their rooms. “There’s been an accident. The seamstress fell down the steps.“
    “Is she badly hurt?“ Marguerite said. “I did a little nursing in my youth. I might be able to help—“
    “There’s no helping her, I’m afraid,“ Jane said.
    “She’s dead?“ Iva screeched. “Someone has died here just before dear Livvy’s wedding?”
    Wedding, Jane thought. Dresses. Somebody would have to finish the dresses! Then she felt guilty. The poor old woman was dead and all Iva and Jane were thinking of was the wedding. Still, she had to ask. “Do either of you sew well?“
    “I do,“ Iva said.
    Mr. Willis, in a shocking red silk dressing gown, nearly knocked the old women down as he careened through the door. “What is it! Not a fire!”
    Jane left Iva and Marguerite to explain the situation to him while she went to open the door to the ambulance. She could see Uncle Joe sprinting out from the woods. He could really move when necessary, she thought sourly.
    The two men and a woman from the ambulance rushed past her and a tall, blond Viking of a police officer followed. Eden, Layla, and Kitty had joined the knot of people at the door to the bedroom hallway. Shelley and Larkspur stood with Jane at the front door. In a few minutes, the police officer joined them and introduced himself as John Smith.
    “A likely story,“ Larkspur said with a nervous laugh.
    Officer Smith ignored him. “Who’s in charge here?“ he asked.
    “I guess I am,“ Jane said. “This is the early contingent of a wedding party and I’m the planner.“ She gave him her name and home address.
    “And did you find the body?“
    “No, I did,“ Larkspur said.
    “And you are—?“
    “The florist. Larkspur.“
    “A likely story,“ Officer Smith said without a trace of a smile. “And you put in the call for us?“
    “Yes. I was up early. Couldn’t sleep. I put some coffee on, then came in here while I waited because I wanted to consider putting flowers on the stairs. I saw her—“ He shuddered.
    “Did you touch the body?“
    “No. Oh, no! I could tell she was dead, and even if she hadn’t been, I wouldn’t have known what to do.”
    Officer Smith turned back to Jane. “Who is the woman?”
    Jane gave Mrs. Crossthwait’s name and agreed to supply him with an address and phone number. To all other questions—next of kin, age, and such—Jane had no answers.
    “Do any of you have any reason to suspect foul play?“ the officer asked.
    “No, of course not!“ Jane said. “She was old and not very steady on her feet and she must have come down the stairs overnight and lost her footing. The stairs are very slippery, as you can see.”
    Officer Smith made a note of her comments.
    Shelley cleared her throat meaningfully. “I don’t mean to be an alarmist or troublemaker, but—“
    “You are—?“ Smith asked.
    “Shelley Nowack. I live next door to Jane and came along to help with the wedding. I just wanted to mention that I watched Mrs. Crossthwait go up the stairs twice yesterday and she was extremely wary and cautious. She held onto the banister with both hands and took each step very slowly. I can’t imagine her just skipping lightly down the stairs in the dark. I didn’t see a flashlight anywhere near her and the power was out overnight.”
    Officer Smith made more notes.
    Shelley said, “Jane, don’t you have something to contribute?”
    Jane sighed. “Okay, okay. I came out here late last night because the front door had blown open. When I started to return, I saw someone at that end of the room. Well, I didn’t see them, exactly. But somebody was there and shined a flashlight in my eyes for a second, then wouldn’t answer when I asked who was there.“
    “And what did you do then?“ Smith asked.
    “I picked my way through the dark to my room. Shelley and I came back here with a flashlight, but there wasn’t anybody in here. We went to bed,“ Jane said. “I assumed somebody couldn’t sleep. Was maybe coming down to the kitchen to get a glass of milk or something, and just didn’t feel like talking to