Hemlock Bay

debilitating. I believed I loved him, Sherlock, believed I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. I trusted him, and I trusted him with Beth.”
    “I know, Lily. I know.”
    Lily got ahold of herself, tried to smile. “Oh yes, I’ve got something amazing to tell you. Remus was dancing in my head this morning, yelling at me so loud that I went out and bought art supplies. Then, strange thing, I get on this empty city bus to go back to The Mermaid’s Tail and this young guy tries to mug me.”
    Sherlock blinked, her mouth open.
    Lily laughed. “Finally I’ve managed to surprise you so much you can’t think of anything to say.”
    “I don’t like this, Lily. Tell me exactly what happened.”
    But Mr. Monk appeared in the doorway. “I will contact our lawyers and have them prepare papers for your signature. I’ve detailed to Mr. Savich how the paintings will be packed and crated in preparation to be shipped to Washington. You will need to inform us of their destination so that we can make arrangements with the people at the other end. There will be two guards as well for the trip. It’s quite an elaborate process, necessary to keep them completely safe. I will phone you when the papers are ready. Did you plan to leave the area soon?”
    “Fairly soon, Mr. Monk.” Lily rose slowly, her stitches pulling, aching more now, and took his hand. “I’m sorry, but I really can’t leave them here.”
    “It’s a pity. Dr. Frasier said on the phone that you were divorcing him and that he had no more say in anything.”
    “I’m relieved that he didn’t try anything underhanded,” Lily said.
    Mr. Monk looked profoundly uncomfortable at that. “He’s a fine man, and so are his esteemed father and mother.”
    “I understand that many people think that. Yes, we’re divorcing, Mr. Monk.”
    “Ah, such a pity. You’ve been married such a short time. And you lost your little girl just a few months ago. I do hope you’re making this decision with a clear head.”
    “You still think my mental condition is in question, Mr. Monk?”
    Mr. Monk seemed to pump himself up. He swallowed and said, “Well, I think that just maybe you’re acting in haste, not really thinking things through. And here you are divorcing poor Dr. Frasier, who seems to love you and wants only the best for you. Of course, Mrs. Frasier, this is a very bad thing for me and for the museum.”
    “Well, these things happen, don’t they? And I’d have to say that Dr. Frasier loves my paintings, sir, not me. I’m staying at The Mermaid’s Tail here in Eureka. Please call when I can finalize all this.”
    Lily’s last view of Mr. Monk was of him standing in the doorway to the Sarah Elliott room, hunched in on himself, looking like he’d just lost all his money in a poker game. The museum had run just fine before Sarah Elliott’s paintings had arrived, and it would do so after they went away.
    When they were walking down the stone steps of the museum, Savich on one side of Lily, her arm resting heavily on his, Sherlock on the other, Savich said, not looking at her, “I was wondering if Tennyson would be obstructive when we called him up. To be honest, if it had been you, Lily—by yourself on the phone—he would have been, no doubt in my mind about that. But he couldn’t this time, not with two of us federal agents and one of them your brother.”
    He stopped abruptly, turned, and grasped Lily’s shoulders in his big hands. “I’m not pleased with you, Lily. You should have let Sherlock and me take care of all this. I’ll bet you pulled your stitches and now your belly aches like you’ve been punched.”
    “Yes,” Sherlock said, “Dillon’s right. You look like you’re ready to fall over.”
    Lily smiled down at her sister-in-law—small, fine-boned, all that incredible curly red hair, and the sweetest smile—who could take down a guy three times her size. And she played the piano beautifully. She’d known from the moment they’d first met at her and Dillon’s wedding that Sherlock’s love for Dillon was steady and absolute. Beth had been three years old at the time, so excited to see her uncle Dillon, and so proud of her new patent-leather shoes. Lily swallowed, got herself together. She said, “Do you know that you and Dillon could finish each other’s sentences? Now, don’t fret, either of you. I am feeling a bit on the shaky side, but I can hold on until we get back to the inn.” She hugged him tight, then