Death on a Deadline

broccoli with a fork.
    “She moved here with their family after her dad died in a fire, sort of a foster daughter, I think.”
    “No wonder she always tries to help Marge out. You think Amelia got jealous of their friendship?”
    Mama seemed to consider this, then shook her head. “The men came in the picture about then. More likely it had something to do with them. There’s been bad blood between Hank and Byron right from the beginning. I always figured it was because each was afraid the other would get more of the family money.”
    I leaned against the counter and breathed in the aroma of baked spaghetti and fresh rolls. Smells that made me think of Carly and always would. Did Amelia think of Marge when she smelled spearmint? And maybe Marge remembered Amelia when she smelled. . .tanning lotion? I couldn’t imagine anything ever coming between Carly and me. Certainly not money. The sisters’ estrangement was almost as big a mystery as Hank’s murder. At least Zac wasn’t being blamed for that one.
    After lunch dishes were cleared, Zac took off for the golf course, and Mama asked the girls to go help her change the linens in the cabins to get ready for new guests. Carly and I offered to help, but Mama had that train-up-a-child look in her eye, so we finished up in the kitchen instead. When everything was done and Dad was snoring in his recliner, Carly tiptoed in and got the paper, then ran back in the kitchen with it, grinning like she’d completed a secret mission. Today was my Dear Prudence debut.
    She flipped it open and began to read, “ ‘Dear Pru, I will be sixteen in two months and twenty three days. My parents always told me I could date when I turned sixteen. Well, I met this neat guy and he asked me out, but my mom said no. I have begged and threatened, but she won’t change her mind. I am very mature and have never given my parents any reason to doubt me, so why are they sticking to this dumb rule? I mean, what difference does two months make? Sixteen is just a number. So what can I say to make them see how silly they are being? Trapped Teen.’ ”
    “Here’s the scary part,” I said, leaning against her chair. “My answer.”
    “ ‘Dear Trapped, you have begged and threatened? But you are mature? Sounds to me like your mom needs to extend the no-dating rule and give you a good dictionary. When you discover the real meaning of mature , you will understand why they don’t think you are ready. Also, it might help if you don’t refer to rules made by the rule-makers (in this case, parents) as “dumb” if you want them on your side. My advice to you is simple: Grow up.’ ”
    She laughed and clapped her hands. “Jenna, you’re a natural at this.”
    “Do you think it was okay?” The sense of responsibility I felt answering the letters had surprised me.
    “Perfect.” Carly had moved onto the next letter, one from a woman who started out to ask advice about how she could convince her longtime boyfriend to propose, but she ended by saying, “ ‘ Now that I have read my own letter, I see that he’s not all that great anyway. So I don’t care if he proposes or not—because I’m going to dump him. Thank you, Dear Pru, for helping me see what I need to do.’ Signed, ‘So Over Him.’ ”
    I nodded. If only they were all that easy.
    “ ‘Dear So Over Him,’ ” Carly continued to read, laughing. “ ‘You’re welcome!’ ” She looked up at me. “You did great!”
    “Yeah, but look at my life. Don’t you think it’s kind of silly for me to be giving advice?”
    “Sugar, people need to know someone cares. Look at what you’ve already done for Zac—”
    “You mean nothing?” I dodged as she elbowed in my general direction. “Well, nothing that has helped.”
    “I have a feeling it will. I know I was against it, but right now, knowing you’re on the case—”
    “ We’re on the case.” I couldn’t believe she was finally coming around.
    She rolled her eyes. “Whatever you want to think. Anyway, knowing that you won’t give up is the only thing keeping me from going nuts. And it proves you care. Which was my point.”
    I thought of Zac. He’d barely spoken at all today. Everyone else had tried to be cheerful, but even the twins seemed to know it was an act. How could I possibly give up?

Thirteen

    “Alex, Jenna again. Give me a call when you get this.” I slapped my phone shut and climbed out of my car. I’d been phoning Alex for two days to apologize for